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#seokjin fanfic
taeshobipop · a day ago
“You definitely said it—I heard you.”
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Pairing: Seokjin x Reader
Genre: drabble, office!au, coworkers!au, fluff, humor 
Prompt: “You definitely said it — I heard you.”
Warnings: jinnie has curious hands that land in forbidden places, nipple pinch 😁, quite a few references to random disney characters because 🤷🏻‍♀️
Word Count: 1.4k
a/n ✑ inspired by jin’s brazenness during the late late show interview with James Cordon — he be winking at the host 😂 also, although short, it’s unedited. sorry!
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The grin on Kim Seokjin’s face taunted you.
“Howdy, partner.” He sang, rounding the edge of the work cubicle. He was grinning again; that same shit-eating grin that told you the man was up to no good, that same devilish grin that just begged to be smacked off. You would do it. You were going to do it, count your words you were going to slap that smug smile right off his gorgeous lips.
It wasn’t until Seokjin’s broad frame had stopped in front of you, that you finally saw the monstrous stack of documents lodged between his body and forearms. “Delivery!” He dropped the paperwork onto your desk, a loud thud crescendoing against your grey cubicle walls.
“What’s this?” You hissed, pinning him with an icy glare. 
“It’s your weekend taken away,” Seokjin smirked. “Boss wants you to complete those forms by next Monday. So, good luck.” Sending you a flirty wink, he leaned down scandalously close to the hem of your skirt. You jolted back in surprise, swivel chair flying across the room as it crashed into one of your coworker’s cubicles, your life flashed before your eyes — butt sliding off the seat, face falling in direct line with the cold concrete floor.
You yawped, eyes bolting shut in anticipation for what felt like the end of your life, bracing yourself for the fall that never came.
“Wo-oah,” a voice heaved. A heavy pressure pressed against your breasts, holding you up. “Slow down there, babe. I was just picking up a pencil.” Someone was holding your breasts. “Don’t go falling for me now.”
Slowly, you peeked your eyes open, tilting your head to see Kim Seokjin’s arm wrapped snuggly around your chest. Again, he was grinning, and you weren’t gonna back down on your claim as you briskly swung your hand up to…wipe across his lips pretty pathetically. 
Seokjin blinked, arms not loosening around your breasts before his brows drew in, perplexed and unfazed. “Uh?” He said, pulling you both upright.
“Um.” You responded awkwardly. You flattened your hair as soon as he had let go, ignoring the surfeit amount of curious gazes from your surrounding coworkers. You cleared your throat. “Thanks for the papers.”
He cocked a thick brow, clearly still hung up on your previous attempt to fulfill your internal wish. “What was that?” Seokjin questioned, stepping closer to smoothen a crease along your blouse. His hand had brushed the underside of your left breast, sending a chockfull of shivers down your spine. He stepped back as if it was the most normal thing in the world; to smoothen your coworker's blouse.
“Nothing. Leave. You’ve given me so much work to do.”
“No, tell me.”
“Tell me.”
“Kim Seokjin,” you rolled your eyes, sighing in defeat, “I don’t have the time to deal with you.”
Gaze narrowing, he snatched back the load of forms only to shove it into the arms of a passing intern. The intern stuttered, head snapping between the pair of employees that seemed to radiate this unusual combination of sexual and detestable tension. The intern had decided then and there that it was best not to get involved — he walked away with the pile of forms. 
“Now you have no work. Tell me.”
You merely gawked at him. What was this man’s problem? “You really wanna know?”
“Well, I already know,” he offered after a beat of deliberation, “I just want you to confirm it for me.”
“What? Confirm what?” You asked disbelievingly, genuinely confused. How could this man know? Unless he was some wizard on crack. Maybe he was, you wouldn’t rule out the possibility.
Seokjin just grinned, the duplicated guileful grin that continues to haunt you in your sleep. Like the Cheshire Cat, hypnotic eyes and all. “You’re just finding an excuse to kiss me, aren’t ya?” He stated confidently, hand gestures pointing at nothing in particular. 
You choked, eyes widening as you gripped onto your desk to prevent your knees from buckling. “Wh-what?!” 
The nerve of this man — he was absolutely shameless!
“And I can assure you that you don’t need an excuse for that,” Seokjin winked. 
“What!” You squawked, appalled yet…intrigued? The heat creeping onto your cheeks had only boosted his ego. “Why would I do that?!”
More heads had begun to spring up from their cubicles, inquisitive eyes bouncing in search of the source of the sound. You ducked down, pulling the lapel of his dress shirt to tug Seokjin below the shallow walls. He chuckled at you, hand rising to clasp around your wrist before lifting it up to kiss the side of your thumb.
You yanked your hand back, heat prickling your face from his sudden display of affection, even though you were no stranger to it. Seokjin had always been flirty — just never this flirty. It scared you, it scared you and fascinated you all at once. 
This man was Flynn Rider masquerading as Prince Charming. 
“Hey, we’re pretty much already dating,” he suddenly shrugged, unconcerned. “Ask anyone. Literally. They’ll tell you we’re married.”
Your lack of response had prompted him to roll his eyes playfully. Gaping, your mouth opened and shut for several moments; completely dumbfounded by this new piece of information thrown at you. Your colleagues really thought that…? Strangely, the notion didn’t make you want to puke your brains out. 
“C’mon, this really shouldn’t be a surprise to you,” Seokjin exasperated, a doting touch along your arm. 
He was right, this shouldn’t be a surprise.
Your relationship with Seokjin was complicated, to say the least. You had never placed a label on it, there was no need to in your humble opinion, but it went along the lines of the occasional “hey, can I come over?” To the consequential fucking, then the late night pillow talks (where hands and hearts would linger), staying over, waking up together, enjoying breakfast, someone rushing home to get ready for work, and then seeing one another again in the office — a minefield of bickering — where you swore that one day Kim Seokjin would end up winking his eyeball out and smirking his teeth off. 
“So, dinner tonight. You,” Seokjin pointed at you, “and me,” he pointed to himself. “7pm. Sound like a plan, babe?”
“Uh, hello?” He pinched your cheek, arm slipping around your waist to pull you close and by effect, your hands had shot up to rest on his taut chest. The feeling of his body beneath your fingertips had your heart rate spiking to the moon, proximity rendering you speechless. “Because I like you and you like me. You do like me, right?” He asked, the glint of uncertainty swimming in his orbs.
Did you? Yes. Yes you did. “Of course I do,” you confessed, flittering butterflies attacking your stomach from the way Seokjin’s eyes had lit up. 
“In what way?” He clarified, gaze shifting away from your face. “As a colleague or…”
“More than that,” you whispered. He bit his lip to dampen a smile. Not a grin but a smile — sincere and heartfelt. 
“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that. What did you say?”
And just like that, his sly fucking grin was back. 
“I said I hate you.”
He squinted his eyes, thick brows furrowing. “I think you said that you like me more than a friend,” he provided.
Shaking your head, “I really didn’t. You’re delusional.”
“You did!”
You shook your head once more, hands still firmly planted onto his chest. The creeping grin across your lips told him you were being playful. He knew that grin like the back of his hand because he had the exact same one, and Seokjin adored how it looked on your face. He inched closer until his forehead knocked with yours. 
“You definitely said it — I heard you,” he murmured, breath ticking your chin.
You giggled. “Maybe.”
Then suddenly, your finger slid up to pinch his pert nipple, twisting it slightly for added effect. Seokjin yelped, hand shooting up to cup his pec as he sent you a glare. 
“What was that for?” He scowled, frown allaying upon seeing your pleased expression. 
“We’re in the office, Mr. Kim — please refrain from any scandalous activities.”
He snorted, leaning closer to place a peck on your temple. “Sure thing, Ms. Y/n,” he said before calling over his shoulder, “pick you up at 7.”
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56 notes · View notes
floralseokjin · 4 months ago
⊶ small tuna fish (m). ⊷
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Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? 
It the end, it takes one charity car wash event and one – or two, depending on how dirty your mind is – soakings to make things very clear. 
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pairing; kim seokjin x f reader  au/genre; college au, friends to lovers, romance, smut  warnings/notes; inexperienced! jin, kissing, so much kissing, groping, dry humping, lots of cute reassuring, this jin might be more of a boob man (shock horror), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, protected sex, sweet and soft, jin has a big dick (don’t let the title mislead you lol)  words; 17,103
listen to; blanket kick 
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author’s note; thank you to @tan-dulset​ 💖 I can always count on you to shower me with ideas and inspiration! This wouldn’t exist without you <3 I hope everyone enjoys because I had great fun writing it! (And FYI, Seokjin is inexperienced because his dick’s too big lmao poor baby 🤧) Also, yes, I am highly aware of how much the word count grew… who is even surprised anymore 🤣
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“I’m terrible at public speaking. Why did I do this to myself?”
“Because the idea is to build your confidence up,” you tease, deeply amused by Sunmi’s pain. Then, a little cleverer you add, “It’s actually one of the best classes to take.” 
“Okay, smartass,” – she clicks her tongue – “if it’s so beneficial, why didn’t you take it with me?” 
You grin. She’s missing something important. “I’m already great at it.” 
Whatever Sunmi is going to comeback with gets cut short when you both hear a voice calling your name from behind you. You turn your head immediately, grin now spreading wider across your face as if you can’t stop it.
You really can’t.  
And that is because over the past couple of months you’ve become quite fond of that voice. 
“Oh, hey Jin.” 
Sunmi hangs back, waiting for you. 
While your best friend is sweating her ass off in public speaking 101 this semester, you’ve been making new friends in your business writing class. Which has definitely made learning how to write résumés and professional emails a lot more fun. 
Jin catches up to you, a little out of breath, which you can’t help but find cute. Is he in a rush? Or had he just been trying to chase after you? You tell yourself to shut up, it’s obviously the first one. 
You hike your backpack strap further up your shoulder, trying to adjust the weight. Fridays may be your shortest day, but it calls for the heaviest books. “What you up to?”
He’s carrying a large plastic box, which may also further explain the light panting. “Last minute prep,” he explains with a small smile, plump lips lifting slightly, making his cheeks round. 
A little confused, you take notice of the contents of said box, feeling guilty when you see the yellow sponges and bottles of car soap. “Oh, the car wash.” 
Of course. Tomorrow is Saturday and the college has organised a car washing event for charity. You feel guilty because Jin has been going on about it for over two weeks now, a part of the committee that’s organised it in the first place.
Ignoring your gaffe, you rush your words. “Are you excited?” 
A light breeze blows his hair in his face, chocolate strands in his eyes, and he cutely attempts to shake them away by moving his head. You fight the urge to reach forward and help him. “I mean, is washing cars all day cause for excitement?” He chuckles. 
“Good point.” 
You can feel your face heating up at yet another stupid mistake, which is unlike you, and actually embarrassingly, Jin has always been able to get this type of reaction out of you. And it’s not like he tries or anything, it just happens. 
As if he notices, he’s quick to reassure you. “But yeah, I can’t wait. Been organising this thing for so long now.” 
You smile politely, aware of Sunmi who is still hovering behind you. Jin must make eye contact with her because you watch him nod his head in her direction, a friendly acknowledgment, and that’s him all over. He doesn’t know her, much like he didn’t know you until a couple of months ago, but he’s still pleasant. Still nice. 
“Will you be dropping by?” He asks you after clearing his throat briefly. He’s casual about it but you notice the way the tops of his ears burn red, similar to how they get when he answers a question in class. “If you come early enough, I’ll still be enthusiastic – probably.” 
You giggle but can’t stop the need to tease him. “Who says I’d want you to wash my car?”
His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, much like they always do when you’re laughing and joking together. He tilts his head to the side. “I’d do a really good job at it.” 
“Oh yeah?”
Your voice is low to match his. 
“Yeah.” This time his smile morphs into the smallest of smirks. There’s something cocky about it, and you like it. 
You sigh dramatically, crossing your arms. “That’s a shame then. I actually don’t have a car right now. The engine blew up a month ago and I can’t afford a new one.” 
Maybe you’re deluded, but he looks a little disappointed. It does something funny to you. Inside your chest. “That sucks.” Then quickly, “You could always volunteer? The more the merrier. We’re expecting a big turnout.” 
You narrow your eyes playfully. “Are you getting some kind of commission?”
He just looks confused, not following. 
“Charming innocent women to come and do the dirty work.” 
It finally clicks and he chuckles almost shyly. “Busted.” 
You point at him. “I’m on to you, Kim.” 
He feigns innocence, holding one hand up in surrender.
It makes you laugh – hard – unable to stop yourself. This is yet another reaction he gets out of you very easily. Don’t get you wrong, he’s a funny guy, but most of the time you’re cracking up over nothing. It’s embarrassing, and that’s why you turn down his invite. 
“But gonna have to give tomorrow a rain check, sorry.”
Again, he looks a little disappointed, but it’s probably all in your imagination. It’s gone in a second, his usual smile directed at you as he nods in understanding. 
“There’ll be other opportunities, right?” You can’t help but feel guilty. Not only because he’s asked you, but also because the car wash is for a good cause. 
Jin laughs, readjusting the box he’s still holding to try and point his finger at you. “I’ll hold you to that.” 
“I know you will.” You laugh back, both hanging on it seems, despite the conversation being practically over. 
He takes the lead first as you carry on dithering. “Okay, best get going with these sponges. See you Monday?” 
You nod, forgetting your voice for a moment. “Y-yeah, of course. See you Monday, Seokjin.” 
His entire name slips from your lips, and you can’t understand why or how. You never call him that. No one does. But he seems to like it if his smile is anything to go by. You wave him goodbye, and he attempts to do the same before turning and walking off in the opposite direction. 
“What the hell was that?
You suddenly remember the existence of your best friend.  
“What was what?” You demand cluelessly, turning around. What was she going on about now? 
She thinks she’s just explained everything but really, it’s nothing. 
She scoffs at your puzzled look. “What I just witnessed. The. Flirting.” 
“Shut up, he wasn’t flirting with me.” You try to sound unfazed, but your voice is unnaturally high-pitched. 
“He was!” She cries. “And you were flirting right back!” 
“Sunmi, I wasn’t!” 
She pauses to think. “Actually, I couldn’t work out who the instigator was.” With a flick of her long dark hair, she begins to mimic both you and Jin. “’I’d do a really good job’… ‘Oh yeah?’” 
“Shut up,” you grumble, nudging her forward. She’ll be late for class at this rate. And besides, your voice definitely wasn’t that squeaky! 
She starts walking and you follow, feeling the need to defend yourself. “We weren’t flirting, we’re just friends.” 
“Friends.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Dude was practically begging to see you tomorrow.” 
“He wasn’t.” 
“He– Y’know what,” she sighs, looking back at you, “never mind. I’m not arguing anymore. If you refuse to see what’s right in front of you, then so be it.” 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. She’s so fricking dramatic. “And what is right in front of me?” 
You regret asking as soon as the question leaves your mouth. 
“Kim Seokjin looking at you with hearts in his eyes!” 
You walk ahead, still fighting her. Finding it. 
“He’s too nice for someone like me.” 
Sunmi snorts behind you. “Oh yeah, ‘cos you’re a real bitch.” 
“I’m just saying,” you turn back, shooting her a glare, “he…” 
“Does charity work?” She prompts, amused as you struggle to explain yourself. “You could too. It’s not hard.” 
“We’re just different.” 
As much as she’s teasing you, Sunmi makes a valid point. That is the type of guy Jin is. He spent last month volunteering at an animal shelter on the weekends. The guy loves to help others, and while you’re not exactly selfish, and definitely not self-absorbed, you’re nothing like him. The idea of someone like him liking you seems too good to be true. And if he does like you, you’re scared it will only be a matter of time before he realises his mistake and changes his mind… 
“No, he’s different,” Sunmi corrects. “Different from the other guys you insist on giving a chance.”
You mull her words over. She probably has a point. Let’s just say the guys you usually attract are the complete opposite of Jin. And that doesn’t help with all your second guessing… 
“He’s a good guy, _____. You don’t get many of those. Especially around here.” 
To prove her point, perfectly timed, although he doesn’t know it, Sunmi’s ex (very brief) boyfriend is walking out of the door you both want to head through. He sees her and smirks – the gross kind, not the cute kind Jin had shot your way just now – and stops to hold the door open. 
“Ladies,” he greets. 
“Get lost, Hyunjun,” she practically barks, barging past him and leaving you no other option but to chase after her, Jin still definitely on your mind. 
Now more than ever. 
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This is a stupid idea, you tell yourself for the one hundredth time today. 
But by now you’re pulling into the college, following the signs that direct you to the lot near the tennis courts – which is where the car wash is being held. You’re on autopilot. Have been ever since you woke up this morning, deciding to act on the bright idea you had last night as you tried to fall asleep. 
Your grandma had easily agreed for you to borrow her car, so here you are, parking up in one of the available slots as a guy you’re vaguely familiar with walks towards you with a clipboard in hand. After a brief conversation, which involves you shamefully asking if Jin can be the one to wash your car, hoping and praying it will work – which surprisingly it does – you pay and get directed to his slot where he’s just finishing up with another customer. 
You hang back, letting the other car drive off before you slowly take its place. Jin is too preoccupied to notice it’s you, his back to you as he pours away the dirty water in his bucket. You watch familiar clipboard guy head over to him. 
“You’ve been requested, Jin.” 
There’s something in his voice, he sounds amused, you think, which is kind of embarrassing for you, but you watch on still, see the puzzled look on Jin’s face as he turns around. Even more so when he meets clipboard guy’s gaze, but then he’s pointing towards your car with his pen, and Jin follows, face morphing into surprise instead. 
“_____,” he says, sounding it too. 
You can’t help the smile you give him, nerves and embarrassment disappearing, and you wave before stepping out of the vehicle. 
“Have fun washing her car,” clipboard guy practically snickers as he leaves – but not before Jin pushes his shoulder. He pays no mind, actually laughing harder, and when he walks past you, he gives you a gummy smile, eyes bouncing with silent glee. You feel like you’re missing something. 
Before you can dwell on it though, Jin is rushing over to you. “You came,” he smiles, looking genuinely happy to see you. Your stomach flutters. 
“Surprise,” you sing cutely, not even cringing at yourself. 
It makes him laugh, eyes crinkling up before he’s peering behind you. “And with a car…?”
“It’s my grandma’s,” you explain. “She doesn’t drive much anymore so it’s just collecting dust in the garage. Thought it could do with a clean.” 
You wonder how believable that is. You mean, yeah, it’s all true, but there isn’t some kind of dire need to get her car freshened up. You’d just needed an excuse to come, which is funny because you don’t actually know why you’re here in the first place, or even what you want from the situation. He wanted you to come and you felt bad for blowing him off. But deep down you know that you really, really wanted to see him today, and now that you’re in front of him, you almost feel giddy… 
Whatever he thinks of the situation – if anything – he doesn’t share, so you continue on, smiling coyly. “I know I’m a little late, but I was hoping you’d still have some of that enthusiasm left?” 
You spent half the morning battling with indecisiveness, so by the time you finally made your decision, there was less than a couple of hours left before they had to call it a day. 
You make him laugh, and that makes you feel great, even more so when he moves in a little closer, his familiar scent floating in the breeze. “I’m sure you can help make it appear again.” 
“Yeah?” Your smile turns a little brazen. 
Sunmi is right, you are so flirting with him. And you can’t stop. 
“Yeah,” he replies in a low murmur, plump lips rising to one side. 
It’s that damn smirk again. The one that makes your knees wobble. It also emboldens you further, one of your hands reaching for his bare arm, fingertips brushing down the smooth skin. “And how exactly would I do that…?”
How ever you’re expecting him to respond, it definitely isn’t with a jump backwards as if you’ve just scalded him. 
“A s-sponge.” He chokes out, stumbling a little. 
“I need my sponge,” he blurts. “To wash your car– I mean, your grandma’s car.” 
You blink a couple of times as you watch him reach for the bucket, trying to work out what’s just happened. His cheeks are pink, flushing darker by the second and you stifle a laugh. Okay, interesting, you’ve managed to out-flirt him. You find it adorable but tell yourself not to push it. You don’t want to mortify the poor guy after all. Slow and steady wins the race. Obviously you came on a little too strong. Stronger than what he’d been expecting. 
“I’ll help you?” You step forward as he grabs the hose off the floor. 
“Huh? No way.” He looks up, sounding horrified, all hints of embarrassment disappearing immediately. “You don’t need to help me. You paid after all.” 
You shrug. “It’s fine. Seems like fun?” 
He doesn’t look convinced. 
“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” You try. “Walk ‘round campus waiting for you to be done?” 
He sighs, giving in way too easily, you note. “Fine.” 
You grin, snatching the damp sponge from his hand. “I’ll take this. You can get another one, yeah?”
The quiet chuckle he gives you sounds fond, and you watch him walk off with the bucket, filling it with hot soapy water and grabbing a new sponge for himself in the process. As he heads back, you can’t stop yourself when you pipe up, “I like your outfit, by the way.” 
However, this time it’s not flirting, you just want to compliment him. 
He looks down at himself, sounding dubious. 
“Mhm.” You nod. 
It’s the first thing you noticed earlier. Mainly because it’s not his usual style at all. Well, on second thoughts, it’s probably nobody’s usual style. You can’t say denim overalls are a popular sight to see on campus. Especially with the way Jin is wearing them, the top half unzipped down the middle and hanging loose around his waist, an animal print scarf weaved through the belt holes, tied together at the side. The white t-shirt he has on underneath only emphasises how broad he is, and you’re sure you’ve never seen him wear something so short sleeved. The guy has biceps, and now you wish you’d ran your fingers down them instead… 
“One of the girls came up with it,” he explains, setting down the bucket at your feet. He plops in his sponge. “Thought it might help bring in some extra custom if we had outfits.” 
“It definitely worked. I’m here after all, aren’t I?” you can’t help but joke. 
He genuinely finds it funny, laughing as he crouches down to submerge the sponge in water. You copy, squatting on the opposite side of the bucket. 
Your hands touch inside the sudsy water and you look forward. “You look good in denim.” 
“Thanks,” he replies, dropping his gaze, attention in the bucket as he reveals a shy smile. 
The following half an hour is spent laughing and joking around together as you wash your grandma’s car. You’ve never actually hung out with Jin outside of class before so getting to be this loud and chatty is super fun. He spends nearly ten minutes trying to convince you that he thought the capital city of Belgium was Waffle up until he was fourteen years old and you’re still unsure whether to believe him or not. Even as he promises you he’s telling the truth with the straightest face you’ve ever seen. 
And he could very well be telling the truth, but you think his main goal is to just make you laugh as hard as you can. Every time he succeeds, he has this adorable tiny smile on his face – half smug, half fond. 
He makes you laugh harder than anyone you know, and often it’s the unattractive, embarrassing kind. The kind where you snort and choke. His laugh is no better, slightly squeaky at times, dorky, but you love it. In fact, it makes you laugh even more. 
You’re laughing seriously hard when you’re wringing your sponge out over his back. 
You’re nearly done by now, Jin about to hose down the last of the remaining suds, and you really can’t help yourself, his broad back almost goading you, especially in that criminal white t-shirt. 
“Oooops,” you say, sounding not in the least bit apologetic as his shoulders lift and tense automatically, the water, by now almost cold, a cruel shock. 
“What the hell, _____?” He cries, rounding on you immediately. He looks and sounds (comically) betrayed, and you can’t help but burst into laughter. This kind that erupts from between your lips, greatly amused but also in disbelief at what you’ve just done. 
“I’m getting you back!” 
He’s reaching into the bucket as he speaks, grabbing his sponge that’s soaking in what’s left of the water, but you don’t hang around for much longer, speeding off as fast as your legs can carry you. 
“Wait, no!” He chases you around the car until you’ve done a full circle, next to the bucket again, your hands up in surrender. “Jin, please!” 
You have no qualms about begging. 
He stops a couple of feet away from you, and you think you’ve succeeded, relaxing slightly. But he’s luring you into a false sense of security because a second later he’s launching the dripping sponge at you. 
You don’t really know where he was aiming for, but you’re pretty sure it wasn’t your face. Which is exactly what he does hit. Square on. A mouth full of wet sponge has you spluttering instantly, the incriminating item falling to the ground with a squelch. 
“Oh, shit,” Jin gasps, rushing towards you. “_____, I’m so sorry.” 
You turn away from his as his hands find your shoulders, devilishly wanting to grab the bucket, but he doesn’t know that, and it makes him only worry even more. 
“I didn’t mean to hit your face. Are you okay?”
You try to hold in your giggles, acting fast once you grab the bucket and spin around. About half the water spills out, hitting his stomach, but most drops and hits his feet. 
“Sorry!” You sing out, once again not apologetic in the slightest. 
He stands there in shock, mouth open as he makes an unimpressed sound, his eyebrows arched. You make a mental note: He looks hot when he’s mad. 
“That’s it.” He moves just as quick, grabbing the hose on the floor. 
You squeal, panicking for real now because that’s the best weapon you could possibly have at a time like this. “No, not the hose,” you beg, taking a cautious step back. “Seokjin, please not the hose!” 
It’s serious now, you’re using his entire name. 
“Why?” he asks simply, finger on the trigger. 
“I thought you liked me.” 
“Correction,” – he takes a step forward – “I did like you. Then you threw a bucket of water at me.” 
“You hit me in the face with a sponge!” 
“You started it!” 
You take off, Jin immediately racing after you, shooting the water at the floor, either careful not to spray you for real, or just taunting you further. It splashes up your jeans as he chases you around and around your grandma’s car, the both of you laughing like crazy. You’ve probably gained some attention by now – not that you notice, too engrossed in your own little world with Jin. 
Just as you’re getting dizzy, Jin changes tactics and spins around. You’re practically running into him before you realise, shrieking out as you try to backtrack, out of breath and tired by now, all the running getting to you. 
“Where do you think you’re going?!” 
He lunges for you, both arms wrapping around your waist, pressing your back into his chest, and his finger accidentally hits the trigger of the hose, a jet of water hitting the ground and accidentally spraying into both of you. You scream your head off, feet flailing about, even after he’s knocked the hose off, and he laughs loudly, easily taking your weight to lift you off the ground. Even with all the excitement you manage to take note of how nice it feels to be held by Jin… How warm his body feels against yours… 
The loud shout gains both your attention, Jin settling you back onto your feet as a red-haired guy who’s been washing cars next to you picks up his hose. “Time for the water fight!” he hollers. 
What follows next is complete chaos. 
You both bring the car wash to its very wet end. The car lot turns into a battlefield, people taking cover behind cars, behind walls, behind buildings, whatever they can, wherever they can reach, as jets of water shoot in all directions, soggy sponges getting hurled around and buckets getting dunked over heads. You manage to stay pretty unscathed, Jin kindly acting as your protector, in stealth mode as he guides you to safety, the both of you giggling all the way. 
You hide near the sports centre’s fire escape, taking the time to catch your breaths. 
“What did we start,” you whine weakly, coming down from the adrenaline rush. 
Jin’s so close that when you lean your head to the side it falls against his shoulder. You look up to see he’s already looking down at you, a smile growing on his face when your eyes meet. Your heart starts drumming for another reason. The ends of his hair are wet in some places, brown strands wavy, falling in his eyes, and this time, unlike yesterday, you don’t fight the urge to swipe them away. 
His smile turns softer as you do so, blinking down at you, and suddenly it’s just you and him. You can’t hear the commotion nearby, you don’t care where you are or what you were doing beforehand. You’re just in this moment. 
“I’m sorry I threw a sponge at your face.” 
The timing of such an apology sends you into a giggling fit, Jin finding it adorable – and you think that’s what he wanted. He moves in closer, his body turning and shutting off the outside world. His eyes keep flicking between yours and your lips, and you know he’s never been this brazen with you before. It’s like if you give him the go ahead, he’ll kiss you in an instant. 
And you do go to open your mouth, your gazes locking – his hopeful, expecting… 
But then – 
The red-haired guy appears out of nowhere. Grinning like a Cheshire cat and holding a full bucket of water. Jin has just enough time to shield you, his reflexes kicking in, before he’s getting said bucket thrown over his back, gasping out loud because it’s so cold and there’s so much of it. He’s sopping, and you’re shrieking as if you’ve got hit too. 
The perpetrator runs off, laughing loudly as Jin yells after him, “Jimin, I’m going to fucking murder you!”
You can’t help it; you lose it again. It feels like all afternoon you’ve been laughing, your jaw actually beginning to ache now, but it sounds so strange hearing Jin curse. He looks confused at first, unsure why you’re nearly on your knees, especially after the moment you’ve just shared, but soon enough he can’t help but join in, eyes crinkling up at the edges. 
The water fight gets cut short when someone returns to pick up their car. They’re cool about it, but ultimately the fun has to end in order to finish off the remaining couple of vehicles. Seokjin is so soaked through he has to use the bathroom in the sports centre to try and dry off. The hand dryer does an OK job but in the end, he comes back with his t-shirt removed completely, wearing his (damp) overalls zipped up, which is probably a good idea. His white t-shirt had become awfully see-through in the back, revealing just how wide and muscular his back truly was. It had become very unbearable very quickly. You’re just lucky he didn’t get his front drenched, trying to avert your gaze would have been torture! 
You stay behind after everything is over to help clean up. You tell yourself it’s because you feel guilty for causing the added mess, but really you know it’s because you want to hang out with Jin for a little while longer. So, you’re ecstatic when he invites you over to his dorm room. 
“Come on, my dorm is only a short walk from here. Park up your car and we can dry off. I’m sure I have a spare t-shirt you can borrow.” 
You’re really not expecting the invite, but the offer of borrowing his clothes nearly sends you into a tailspin. And then, he asks if you want to get takeout later to eat at his place too. Your expectations are all over the place, but yet, you don’t want to get your hopes up in fear of getting hurt.
His dorm room is really nice. It’s the more spacious, fancier – definitely more expensive – type. You’ve continued living at home, the college only a short journey, but you know that Sunmi’s is much smaller than this, and it’s even an upgrade from last year! The guy even has his own (small but adequate) sofa and bathroom. He’s living the dream. His room cutely decorated with little personal knick-knacks that you try not to stare at too much in fear of looking too nosey. 
Your lower half had been the main thing to get wet during the water fight and your jeans are still quite damp even now, so after some digging, Jin finds a pair of grey baseball shorts he used to wear back in high school. He’s unsure why he has them here with him, seeing as there’s no way in hell he’d fit into them now, but it works out pretty well for you. He also finds a purple t-shirt he manged to shrink in the wash last week, so once again, you luck out. 
You change in his bathroom as quickly as you can manage, pulling a face at yourself in the tiny mirror in front of his sink once you’re done. You feel awkward. For two reasons mainly. 1. What you’re wearing is crazy unflattering, the drawstrings of his shorts pulled as tight as they can go and tied in the toughest knot you can manage, and 2. This is crazy intimate. You feel like you’ve missed a couple of steps along the way. Sure, you’ve worn the jackets of ex-boyfriends in the past, but this is extreme. You can smell his laundry detergent all over you, and just like that you remember back to earlier, well, not even a couple of hours ago, when he had his arms wrapped around your waist, the warmth of his chest against your back… 
Reality hits you then. You’re in Kim Seokjin’s dorm room. In his bathroom, in his clothes. Without any underwear on… 
They had also gotten soaked through and are now hidden in the laundry bag Jin had given you with the rest of your clothes. The plan was to make the short walk downstairs to the laundry room and shove your clothes in the dryer for ten minutes before ordering something to eat, but now you’re not so sure… 
God, you wish you had your cell phone with you to text Sunmi. Instead, it’s in your purse which is on Jin’s sofa… 
You’re just going to have to go out there and look like garbage in front of him. You have no other options. Well, you did have another one earlier, but that involved saying no to Jin’s invite and you wouldn’t have been able to bear turning him down again, so yeah, you’re just going to have to suck it up. 
You steal some extra time when you decide to wash your hands, but of course, it’s you, so you run into trouble along the way. The faucet in the sink is pretty old looking, with double handles instead of the single ones your used to back at home, but that’s not the problem, you can work faucets, obviously. The problem is that the one that controls the hot water won’t fricking turn off! You try your best, but it’s as stiff as a board. 
You rush out the bathroom, momentarily forgetting you look like an eight-year-old dressed in hand-me-downs. “Jin, the faucet won’t–oh–!”
You walk in on a very shirtless Jin, who jumps violently at your voice, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“Shit, sorry,” you squeak, heat rushing to your face as you turn your head. 
But the damage has been done. Like it’s been implanted into your eyeballs, the image of Jin’s chest is all you can see. If you think his back is a sight to see, the front is enough to send your knees weak. He’s a naturally built guy, that much is obvious even with his clothes on, but you guess he must work out pretty regularly with how toned his abs are, how defined his pecs are… 
In the corner of your eye, you see him attempt to cover himself up with the t-shirt he must have been about to slip on before you barged in on him. You turn further, heading back into the bathroom – well, running back into the bathroom. 
“I, uh, the faucet is too tight. It won’t move.” 
“T-two seconds,” he calls after you, sounding a little embarrassed. 
It’s the longest two seconds of your life, which is probably because it’s more like an entire minute. The whole time you’re waiting for him you can’t stop thinking about what you’ve just seen. His hard chest, nipples a soft brown. The small dark hairs that travelled down to a destination that remained hidden by his (very low slung) sweatpants. You’ve seen bare torsos before of course but none have quite affected you like this. Despite how brief the glance was… 
You’re so attracted to him it’s beginning to hurt, and it has taken you this long to realise you may not be able to control it for any longer… In fear of combusting. 
When he appears (fully clothed, although his black t-shirt is dangerously loose, you note), he seems flustered, eyes darting over your body briefly before he looks away. His face was already mildly flushed when he entered, but now it’s turned even darker, those cute little ears flaming red. Your heart races. Is he embarrassed because you saw him shirtless? Is he embarrassed because you’re in his clothes and he likes what he sees? You feel bolder now, no longer self-conscious in his baggy t-shirt and shorts… 
“It’s always getting stuck. I’m sorry, I should have told you beforehand.” 
It takes you a moment to realise he’s talking about the faucet. You watch him start to struggle with it and lean in closer, practically touching him as you joke around. “Is this the moment you yank it off and we get soaked?”
“I hope not,” he chuckles, looking over at you slightly. “Then I’d have to apologise for getting you wet twice in one day.” 
Your eyes widen just as his do, the both of you realising how what he’s just said could be perceived. It takes everything in you not to snort unattractively. Jin looks away before you can give him a reaction anyway, cheeks filling with colour. He twists the faucet handle harder. 
You like flustered Jin, and you want more of it. 
“I don’t recall you apologising for the first time yet.” The playfulness is evident in your tone, but he tries his best to ignore you. “Come on let’s hear it,” you prod, elbowing his side. 
He breaths out a laugh, refusing to look at you. “Sorry.” 
“Properly, please.” 
He’s not listening, giving the handle one last tug before it works, knocking off the stream of water successfully. “Finally,” he mutters. 
You don’t care about that though. Not anymore. You place a hand on your hip. “I’m still waiting.” 
You hear him groan your name softly, but he looks you in the eyes this time – and despite his face being aflame right now, he tries to beat you at your own game. “I’m sorry for making you wet today.” 
But you don’t get so easily embarrassed as him. At least not right now anyway. Instead, you erupt into laughter, finding the entire thing hilarious. His mouth quirks up, and you know he finds this funny too. To prove you correct, he lets out a quiet chuckle. “So embarrassing.”
His voice is soft. Actually, everything about him is soft. His voice, his face, his gaze… It makes your chest ache a little. Soft and inviting, that’s what he is. 
When he turns to leave, you act without thinking, the disappointment of yet another moment disappearing too much for you. (And hopefully this time someone doesn’t appear out of nowhere to dunk a bucket of water over his head…) 
You grab his hand, making him look back. 
He lifts an eyebrow, curious, but it’s all a front. His eyes give it away. He thinks he knows what’s coming. You take a deep breath. 
“Sunmi thinks you like me.” 
Then, unsurely, you add, “Is she just deluded?”
That’s code for: are you deluded? You don’t think you are but making the first move is scary. You can’t wait one second longer though. You need to know what’s going on between you both – what could go on… 
Jin gives you a lopsided smile, almost coy, before he chuckles awkwardly. “So I was making it really obvious, huh?” 
You fight the urge to grin, your heart starting to drum with excitement. “Not really, I was pretty oblivious.” You watch as he steps towards you, almost going cross-eyed in the end because he’s so close. “Thought you were just being nice.” 
“Ah,” he sighs playfully, “the dreaded nice.” 
“I like nice.” 
He looks unconvinced. “Did you know that being called a nice guy is actually a bad thing now?” 
That makes you laugh. “If it’s being used as a noun, then yes.” 
He lets your information marinate before coming up with his conclusion. “I don’t know, I still don’t like the idea of you describing me as a simple nice.” His nose cutely crinkles up at the adjective. 
“There’s other words I can use…” This time you take a step forward, your noses brushing together. 
It feels so good to be this close to him. It’s finally happening. The moment you’ve barely let yourself think about. 
“Yeah?” He murmurs. 
“Yeah.” Your voice is just as gentle. “But I’ve had enough of talking…” 
He pulls his head back slightly, briefly taken back by your boldness maybe, or possibly just making sure he’s not imagining this. Once he’s positive, he slowly begins to move in, lips parting. You copy, hand reaching forward to curl your fingers in his t-shirt, and as soon as you feel the warm press of his mouth you let your eyes close. 
His kiss is soft too, of course. What else would you expect? 
Your lips touch briefly for a few moments, giving you both time to familiarise yourselves with the feeling – or just the situation in general. It doesn’t take you long to melt, the meeting of your mouths just feeling so right, and with his next press there’s a little more oomph, retreating momentarily before applying even more pressure. Your fingers instinctively curl tighter into his t-shirt when you begin to kiss him back. Your eagerness meeting his gentleness in a way that shouldn’t work, but does. It really does. 
When his hands cup your jaw, you can’t help but sink further, heart beating quickly, your other hand sliding over his hip, the smallest of sighs slipping past the seam of your lips. Jin loves it, for the briefest of moments pressing into your harder, grip on your jaw tightening as he holds you close. 
You feel something zap southwards, heat flooding your face, and you give him another sound, lower this time. He breaks away with a shaky breath, and when he come back his mouth opens yours ever so slightly. Then again. And again. Until you’re moving together effortlessly. You’re the one who slips in some tongue, needing to taste him, and he complies eagerly, but keeps it to a minimum, hints of tongue joining each glide of your lips, and somehow such a simple kiss has your legs feeling like jello. 
His kissing is addictive, much like he is, so when you feel him start to withdraw, you can’t help but feel disappointed. You want it to last a little longer, all evening if possible. 
He takes his time with it though, which reassures the insecurities inside your heart. He’s stopping out of thoughtfulness, not because he wants to. After multiple drawn-out pecks, he finally manages to gain the strength to pull away. His eyes crinkle up when he gives you a warm smile, and it’s impossible not to return such an action. His lips are shining, even plumper than usual if it’s possible and you want nothing more than to dive right back in. 
The tips of his fingers graze down your cheeks as he moves his hands away, and you feel fresh warmth spread over the skin. You want him to touch you more. You want him, period. 
“Pinch me, let me know that was real,” he finally says, voice airy. 
The hand against his hip stays put, but the one gripping his t-shirt lifts away, your eyes drifting over his left collarbone, his baggy t-shirt finally giving up the fight as it slips down the top of his shoulder. You let your hand graze up his arm, feeling goosebumps pop up, and pinch his bicep softly. “It was real,” you confirm with a smile. 
He doesn’t jump away like earlier today. Instead, letting out an affectionate laugh before he takes your hand in his, lifting it between your bodies to run his thumb over your knuckles. “Hm,” he thinks aloud, eyes locking. “Do you just want to eat here?” 
His question naturally throws you. 
“I have stockpiled ramen hidden in my room so nobody can steal it.” 
Food is the last thing on your mind right now, especially if it means you have to prepare it in a kitchen shared by his entire floor, but you let him lead you out of the bathroom, because well, your hand is in his. How could you not? 
There’s a cupboard just above his desk filled with ramen – he wasn’t joking around. But you’re not in the least bit interested as he reels off flavours. All you can think about is the kiss and how much you want to do it again. Right now. 
“Okay, so there’s shrimp, beef… There’s hot chicken but that’s pretty spice–”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because your lips are pressing into his suddenly, cutting him off. It’s only one kiss, that’s all your tiptoes will let you do, and when you pull away you laugh at Jin’s puzzled expression. His eyes comically wide. 
“I wasn’t done kissing you,” you smile. “I know you were enjoying it so why did you stop?”
He chuckles coyly, finding it hard to meet your eyes. “Sorry, didn’t want to push my luck.” 
“Please do.” 
It’s as simple as that. 
You bite down on your bottom lip, waiting for him to do something, and when he meets your eyes, it’s a look unlike anything he’s given you before. The usual playful sparkle in his eyes is replaced with something else, he’s serious, but not in a bad way. There’s a need there, and it shows with how he takes your hips in his hands, leaning in slowly, never taking his gaze away from yours. You have just enough time to swallow, your mouth unusually dry before he’s pushing his lips into yours intently. 
There’s something still gentle about the way he moves, but it’s laced with something new – a determination, an urgency. It has you needing to grip onto the tops of his arms, a muffled moan slipping from between your lips as the hands on your hips press you into the edge of his desk. It’s such a simple action, but your body heats up. He loves it, fingers twitching against your sides like he wants to do more, but instead he removes them completely, holding onto the desk instead. You can’t mind too much though, because now he’s closer. That, and his tongue is running along the seam of your lips, seeking entry…
You give it to him easily, the sheer purpose of his movements taking you by surprise, nothing like a few minutes ago in the bathroom. This time he meshes your tongues together, taking full control of your mouth, and you can’t help but to run your fingers through his hair, gripping gently at the roots as your body falls pliant. The small moan he gives you sends you almost wild, even more so when his hands wrap around your waist, desperate to embrace you – to feel you. He’s had enough of holding himself back it seems, and you can’t help but grin into the kiss. 
“What?” He whispers, feeling it and in turn grinning back. 
“Nothing,” your breath is hot against his and you’re panting slightly, so is he. “I just like it when you touch me.” 
His breath hitches, wet lips pressing into yours once before he replies, “I’ve wanted to touch you for a really long time.” 
Okay. Whether he’s trying to be sweet or dirty, he has you. Your heart races, kissing him eagerly as your hands relax in his hair to run down the expanse of his back. You tug him closer, your lower halves pressing together, and Jin gives you another small moan, only this time it’s gruffer. You follow suit, the sweet noise you present getting swallowed by his greedy tongue. 
With how intense things are getting you shouldn’t be surprised when you feel his erection starting to form in his sweatpants, the swell nudging your thigh, but you still are. You’re making him get hard. You’re turning him on. It just does wonders for your ego. 
And your greed. 
You spend the next few seconds trying to break away, but he makes it difficult, his kiss hungry, grip on your waist firm. You giggle as you finally manage to pull free, hands on his shoulders, evading his mouth as he tries to lean in again. 
“Why did you stop,” he whines, nuzzling into the crook of you neck instead. The sweet kisses he places on the skin bend and fold you, one of his hands drifting down to your hip.
“Can we go somewhere a little more comfortable?”
He freezes his movements, processing your words before he shoots his head up. “Oh yeah, shit, sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” you laugh softly, rubbing one shoulder. Why’s he apologising? 
You give him one – as innocent as you can muster – peck, before straightening up. He moves too, a little woodenly as he gains his bearings, eyes refocusing in the process. You notice the way he pulls his t-shirt down lower, attempting to conceal his erection you guess, which is funny seeing as you’ve already felt the beginnings of it pressed against you. 
But you don’t point it out. Instead, you take his hand, prompting him to lead you forward. You have your sights on his twin bed, but he moves to the low sofa at the foot of it. You’re not that disappointed, guessing he must not have wanted to ‘push his luck’ again, and that’s actually pretty adorable. 
“Here?” He asks. When you nod, he sits first, still concealing the growing tent in his sweats. 
You don’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t for you to take a seat directly on his lap. His eyes widen, mouth popping open as he lets out a simple ‘oh.’ 
You stop on his thighs, second guessing yourself, hands hovering above his shoulders. “This okay?” 
“Definitely.” he nods quickly, eager to confirm. 
It makes you giggle, and he chuckles along, leaning forward to recapture your mouth. His hands wrap around your middle as yours find his neck, tongues already lacing together, your breathing heavy. His fingers graze the top of your ass as your mouths work together urgently, but he seems hesitant to travel further. You’re craving his touch by now, the heat between your bodies becoming unbearable, so you remove yourself from his mouth with a sticky pop and run your hands down his chest. It feels strong and hard beneath your fingertips and it’s a wonder you’re able to control the urge not to tear his t-shirt off and suck hickies all over his skin. 
“Touch me more, Seokjin.” 
You’re trying to tell him, but it sounds more of a beg, unable to stop yourself from diving back into the kiss, his swollen lips looking way too inviting. He moans just as you do, a hand tentatively sliding over the curve of one butt cheek. When you push into him, he repeats, gliding his palm back and fore before his other hand wants in on the action. When he suddenly squeezes your behind it jerks you forward, makes you rub against his dick, and he can’t help but grunt. It sets you alight, and you swallow the moan greedily, rocking your hips again, wanting more. 
It feels good for you, too – more than good. You can feel yourself growing wet, which is a little embarrassing considering you don’t have any underwear on under Jin’s shorts, but you guess that doesn’t really matter anymore, not when you’re grinding all over him, kissing him like your life depends on it. You can’t imagine he’s going to care. 
Soon, it begins to feel too good though, getting hard to concentrate as pressure builds, Jin keeping a firm grip on your ass as you move on top of him. You break away from his mouth to catch your breath, arching into him as you wrap your arms around his neck, circling your hips around and around. Jin groans, nose nudging your throat before he starts to kiss it. Wet kisses, teeth nipping you every now and then. It has your breath shaking, body thrumming, and it only gets worse (read: better) when you feel one of his hands slip up your (his) t-shirt, his warm, gentle touch spreading over your back and throughout your entire body. 
He runs his fingertips up and down your spine, and it feels even better because he’s doing it without any prompting. Eventually he gets higher with each caress, and you know the exact moment he realises you’re not wearing a bra because you feel his movements still briefly. He changes tactics, running his fingers along your side and over, down the soft skin of your stomach, before he travels up. Your breath hitches when you feel him stroke the underside of your left boob. He’s moving slow, as if he’s giving you a chance to tell him to stop if you want him to. But you don’t. 
You really don’t. 
You press your chest into him, giving him the go ahead, his palm taking a handful of boob, squeezing the flesh carefully. You move his head back, wanting to kiss him again, and when you do, he smiles against your mouth, laughing quietly. 
“What?” You laugh back, voice uncharacteristically soft. 
“Nothing, just happy.” 
“Happy because you’re feeling my boobs?”
“Maybe,” he shrugs, going in for another kiss. 
You snort unattractively but it doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Soon enough you’re letting out a little yelp, Jin’s fingers pinching your nipple suddenly. 
“Sorry,” he grins, thumb now rubbing small circles against the hard bud, before he does it again. “I swear that’s the last one.” 
Your gazes meet, eyes silently dancing with laughter before you’re kissing again, palms cupping his face, until you drag one hand down his chest. You want to feel his body too, and you slip your fingers under the baggy material, feeling the faint ridges of the abs you’d caught a glance of earlier. It seems like a lifetime ago now, the unthinkable happening. 
He moans at the sensation, the hand still on your ass gripping tightly as you continue to explore his chest as best you can. You kiss across his cheek, then down his jaw, hitting his throat, pressing your lips softly against his thick neck, teeth grazing his Adam’s apple. He practically quivers under you, your name slipping from his mouth sweetly.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confesses quietly. 
“Yeah?” you ask, nipping his collarbone. By now the hand on your boob has slid down your stomach, he’s turning boneless underneath you. “You’ve been imagining this?” To explain, you roll into him, his boner brushing against your core. His fingers grip your hip, a puff of air expelling from him. 
You press on, having fun. “Kim Seokjin has dirty thoughts about me?”
His cheeks are already red from being so turned on, so you can’t tell if he’s embarrassed when he responds, although he does avert eye contact briefly. “Only sometimes.” 
You feel jubilant, the idea of such a thing thrilling. 
“I don’t make a habit of it,” he continues, quick to explain. “Most of the time I’m thinking about how beautiful and pretty you are.” 
If any other guy would have told you that you wouldn’t have believed them, but it’s Jin, so you don’t doubt him at all. 
“Oh yeah?” You laugh. 
“Well,” he adds, “you’re still beautiful and pretty during the x-rated thoughts too, obviously.” 
That just makes you laugh even harder, leaning in to kiss him again. You lose yourself for a moment, his hand on your ass moving to thread through your hair. He hisses when you start to drag your hips over him again, and you’re suddenly really, really hungry. 
“What do we do in these 18+ fantasies of yours,” you pry, pulling back to look at him, winking playfully. “Maybe I can make it a reality.” 
He chuckles, stroking your stomach as he looks between your bodies. “This.” 
“This?” You grind a little quicker, gripping his sides. He lets out a faint moan. “I grind on you so hard I make you cum your pants?” 
He flutters his eyes closed, pressing his back into the sofa. “If you keep talking like that then, yeah.” Then he opens them again, the same smile on his face from yesterday, the one that’s similar to a smirk. You flutter. Even more so when he speaks again. “But we, uh, we… we might be naked.”  
You don’t need to hear another word, your hands reaching for the hem of your (his) t-shirt, and you begin to lift it up. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” 
Jin stops you with both hands on your hips. 
“Making it a reality,” you laugh, before noticing the look on his face. You panic, misreading it. “Unless you don’t want to?” The t-shirt slowly falls back down your body. “Shit, sorry, Jin. I didn’t mean to–”
Maybe you’re being too forward? It isn’t intentional, just kissing him turns you crazy. 
“No, I do want to,” he assures, before giving a short laugh. “Trust me.” He sees how confused you look and tries to explain. “I just… I’m not in a rush, okay?” He pauses. “You don’t have to do this. I still really like you either way. If you want to kiss me all evening, I’m fine with that.” 
As if you couldn’t like him more than you already do, he decides to go full gentleman on you… 
You give him an appreciative but coy smile. “And if I want to do more?”
You don’t miss the way he clears his throat before he flashes you a grin. “Then I’m great with that.” 
You’re pretty sure the throat clearing was a good sign, but just in case. You don’t want to push him into doing anything he didn’t want to. 
“Sure,” he settles, reaching for you, his hands sliding up the t-shirt. 
“You don’t think…” you stop yourself, regretting it immediately. Now you’re over thinking things. 
He raises his eyebrows, sensing something. “Don’t think what?” When you don’t reply, his forehead pinches in concern. “_____, talk to me,” he murmurs encouragingly, giving your side a stroke. 
You look at him, deciding he won’t ever judge you. You trust him. “I don’t want you to think I’m easy.” 
It’s silly really. You’re quite a confident person, always have been, and hopefully always will be. But you’ve had numerous bad relationship (if you can call them that) experiences since being in college. The latest one was a few months back, and that word still echoes in your brain from time to time. You’re still pretty wounded. 
Jin looks horrified. “Of course I don’t think that. Why would I?” 
You give him a simple shrug, feeling a little awkward. 
“Has someone told you that before?” 
You don’t reply and he doesn’t push, but you know he understands, having guessed right. 
He’s quick to shower you with kindness, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your nose. “I think you’re beautiful” – then your lips – “and amazing, and kind, and funny, and –”
“Okay,” you giggle, “you’re already getting in my pants, no need to butter me up anymore.” 
He laughs along, kissing you once more. 
You take a moment, gazing into his eyes. “I like you too, Seokjin.” You haven’t actually told him that yet, have you? “That’s why I want to do this. You’re different…” Wrinkling your nose, you cringe at yourself but carry on, wanting him to hear it. “I think you’re incredible.” 
He smiles gratefully, letting you push him against the back of the sofa. You run your hands over his shoulders, admiring his face and then his body. “And really hot.” 
He snorts softly, embarrassed no doubt. It’s the truth though. You kiss him, speaking against his mouth as it puckers. “And sexy.” Again, your hands travel across his shoulders, hips grinding into crotch, stirring his cock again. He kisses you back for a couple of minutes, your tongues tangling together hurriedly as you get more desperate by the second, but when you start getting more handsy, Jin fidgets a little. You notice his kiss becoming a little distracted too.
“What’s wrong? 
“Nothing,” he mutters, “it’s just…” He winces, head falling back. “This is embarrassing.” 
You’re lost. 
He takes a deep breath. “Just don’t go expecting too much, okay?” Then meekly, “I’m not very experienced.” 
Your jaw drops in shock. “Wait, you’re a–?” 
“No,” he rushes. “I’m not, but…” 
“But?” You repeat, confused now that you think of it. “What about you and Daeun?”
Daeun was the girl he’d dated through pretty much all of first year. You hadn’t known him personally back then, but it was still common knowledge around campus. 
“We didn’t really do it much when we were together,” he explains with a shrug, not meeting your eyes. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to sound casual, but secretly you can see straight through him. 
Each to their own, but if you’d been dating him back then, you would have been jumping his dick every single day. 
“Christ, I’m so embarrassing,” he groans, dropping his head in his hands. “Why did I just tell you that?” 
“No,” you insist, grabbing his wrists. “No, you’re not embarrassing, Seokjin.” 
He peeks at you through his fingers, seeing no judgment or laughter on your face. 
You give him a small smile when he drops his hands completely. “Thank you for telling me. I’m really looking forward to this.” 
“You are?” He sounds unsure. 
You chuckle, nodding your head. “I thought that much was obvious.”
“Yeah, it is,” he mumbles with a shake of his head. “Ignore me.” 
You place a sweet kiss on his mouth before lifting the edges of the purple t-shirt. “Should we continue?” You smile. 
He nods, smiling back. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 
His eyes are round as he watches you remove the item of clothing, soaking in every last bit of your torso. He’s almost frozen, and in the end, you have to take one of his hands yourself to place over your chest. He comes alive then, the warmth of your tits making all his apprehensions disappear, just like magic – of course. 
“Can I…?” He asks, dipping his head, and your stomach flips, realising what he wants to do. 
You nod, not sure you’ll do a good job with words right now, and watch as he descends, arms wrapping around your waist as his pillowy lips press a kiss to each pert nipple. Instinctively your hands find their way to the back of his head, fingers locking into the chocolate strands when you feel the wet warmth of his tongue, tip circling one bud, making it extra sensitive. 
You need a moment to process. 
Kim Seokjin is kissing your boobs. Kim Seokjin is sucking your nipple between his lips. 
You arch into him when he starts wanting more, taking more, as if he wants your entire left tit inside his mouth, tongue tracing patterns into the soft skin. You can’t help but moan a little, the sound choking in your throat, fingers tugging on his hair a little. He gives you a grunt of approval, moving to nuzzle between your breasts, eyes shut, before he starts to mouth the one he’s neglected. He’s so tender, so loving, it’s by far the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced, and the pressure between your legs increases, if possible. You’re surprised you haven’t soaked through the fabric of his shorts. 
When you don’t think you can take much more of the way he’s straight up worshipping your chest, you push him back against the sofa, lifting his head up so you can kiss him, feel how wet his lips are, how soft his tongue is. His breath quivers, hands pawing hungrily at anything he can reach, the softest, neediest of moans slipping out every now and then. 
It drives you wild. 
Your hands slip up his t-shirt, noticing how slightly sticky his skin has become. His muscles tighten under your touch, whining when you tear yourself from his mouth. “You too,” you simply say, tugging at the fabric. 
He helps you take it off, stretching it over his shoulders, and while he’s pulling it over his head, you rightfully get distracted, fingers grazing up and down his chest, brushing across his pebbled nipples. This is a dream come true. You feel uncontrollable raking your nails across his smooth and muscular body.  
“Do you work out?” you ask, curious but also wanting to praise him as much as possible.
“Occasionally,” he breathes, watching the way you touch him. “It’s mostly just natural–wait–that sounded so big-headed.” He sounds panicked, it’s cute, even more so when he begins to stumble over his words. “I meant, like… I just–I’m like this naturally for the most part –I guess…” 
You grin, leaning in as you glide your palms along each shoulder. “Should have known with shoulders this wide.” 
You can’t wait to cling to them while he fucks you… Your tits press into his chest as you place a kiss to the nearest shoulder, and he groans, his hands spreading over your back, holding you to him for a second. That is until you wriggle free, hands travelling down his stomach, the small, dark hairs ticking the pads of your fingers as you hit below his (very cute) bellybutton. 
You look at him and raise an eyebrow. “Should we free something else too?” 
He gulps when you run your hand along his erection, pressed against his inner thigh, and you can’t help but notice just how long and thick it feels. You’ve been grinding on it for the past God knows how long, but under your palm it feels entirely different – entirely new. The monster twitches at your touch, Jin’s hips lifting slightly, chasing for more and you lock eyes, his lips parting as he mouths his affirmation. 
Your heart is drumming inside your chest as you rush to push his sweats down, fingers curling underneath the waistband of both the clothing item and his boxers. You really don’t know what to expect, equal amounts excited and nervous because of what you’ve just felt. Jin helpfully lifts his ass off the sofa, and you tug at his clothing, jaw dropping open when his cock springs out – hard, smooth, long and thick. Very, very long and thick… It slaps against his stomach with an intimidating thump, tip angry red and shiny with precum. 
Your practically speechless, unsure what you can say – what you should say. 
“You’re really big,” is what you settle on, stating the obvious dumbly. 
Jin must sense your panic because his forehead creases in concern, mixed with embarrassment you think. “I, uh,” – he swallows – “I should have said something.” 
Yeah, a heads up would have been lovely, but then again, how the hell would he have brought it up? 
He continues on, grimacing slightly. “I was hoping this was just normal.” 
“What do you mean?” 
You’re confused, but also highly distracted as you watch his dick bob against his abs. You’re pretty sure your mouth is watering because despite how daunting that thing is, you can’t help but be mesmerised. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Of course he would have a gigantean dick. Of course. He’s blessed everywhere else, may as well include his cock on the list too… 
“Okay, so I haven’t been entirely honest.” 
You force yourself to pay attention, fighting the urge to take him in your fist and squeeze. 
“The reason me and Daeun didn’t do it much was because I couldn’t fit properly.” 
His face burns red, and you can’t blame it on how aroused he is this time. You patiently wait for him to continue, not wanting to hurry him. 
“I mean, I’ve seen other dicks before, obviously. The size checks out in porn but in real life?” He snorts in humiliation. 
“I don’t know, I was just kinda hoping there were other guys on campus who…” 
“Who were hiding dicks this big?” You can’t help it, your mouth quirking up at the edges. Why is he so adorable? 
He whimpers, burying his face into his hands for the second time in less than fifteen minutes. “This is so fucking embarrassing.” 
You move in closely, speaking against his ear. “Seokjin, every single guy on campus wishes they had one this big.” 
He makes an agonised noise against his fingers. You smile and kiss his earlobe before gently running the tip of your tongue along the edge, dipping inside, making sure to be wet about it. Your eyes are very much locked onto his erection, so you see it jolt in response. Emboldened, you reach for his hands and push them away, wanting him to see when you take his dick in your fist. You feel his body freeze when you give him a firm squeeze at the base, before raking your palm upwards, following with a squeeze at the head, a fresh bead of precum pooling out of the slit. He makes a tiny noise, and you swear you feel a fresh gush between your thighs. 
“Trust me,” you reassure, voice low and hopefully seductive, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” 
“Kiss me,” is all he says, voice breathy. 
You listen, stroking him in time with how your tongues caress, one of his strong arms holding you tight, purposely wanting your tits brushing up against his chest, your nipples grazing the solid flesh. 
“What if…” He tries to speak but gets distracted when you start nibbling on his bottom lip. You pull back to let him continue, but you’re unable to stop pecking at his lips as he does. “What if–mhm–what if –mhm–s-stop,” he laughs loudly, holding you still the next time you attempt to. “I’m trying to be serious.” 
“Sorry,” you grin, kissing his cheek instead. “Please continue.” 
He stares at you in warning, a smile twitching at his lips, before he frowns slightly, remembering what he wanted to say. “I just…what if we can’t do it either?” 
His concern touches you. 
“We’ll try,” you smile softly, the hand around his erection moving away to brush up and down his thigh softly. 
In all honesty, you aren’t actually worried about that. Like yes, it is the biggest dick you’ve ever seen before – in real life and on screen – but it’s Seokjin’s dick, so you want it with everything you have… 
He kisses you this time, a hand curling over your ass, kneading the soft flesh. You moan into his mouth, reaching to cup his face as your tongues curl together. You tap his jaw as you move away. “I’m not going down without a fight, Kim.” 
His face breaks into the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, the sound his laugh makes breaking your heart a little. “I don’t doubt you,” he says simply, and there he is, the Jin you know. No longer the one filled with worry over his humungous dick. 
“But first…” you trail off, letting your movements do the talking as you slip away from him, attempting to drop to the floor on your knees. You have never wanted to suck dick so much in your entire life. Your jaw is already vibrating just from the thought, imagining the ache that will come from trying to stuff yourself full of him – and you’ll love every minute of it. You’re certain. 
He stops you though, taking your hands in his tightly. “Your knees,” he worries. “It might be painful.” 
Christ, if he’s going to be this sweet about it you might just cry. 
“Let’s do this,” he suggests, and you watch as he maneuverers out from under you, lying lengthways across the sofa. It’s so tiny he has to half lay down, half sit up, feet dangling over the opposite edge. You giggle, straddling him as best you can as the furniture groans in protest, but you both make it work. 
“Okay?” he asks. 
You nod, leaning in to kiss him briefly before moving your lips down his chest, kissing his nipple which makes him shudder and chuckle shyly. You travel down his sternum, licking away sweat that’s collected in the ridges of his abdomen, before you find yourself at his bellybutton. You can feel his hard on brushing against your boobs, hot to the touch, desperate for more relief, but he doesn’t rush you. Just waits patiently, one arm resting against the sofa cushions, the other dangling off the edge, hand pressing into the floor the sofa is so low. 
You wriggle down further, one knee getting jammed between his thigh and the sofa and fight to free it. His cock bobs against his stomach, and you lean in to place a small kiss to the head of it, pulling away just as he freezes before going back for seconds. This time taking your time, pressing your lips to the sensitive flesh for a few seconds. Jin holds himself still, but you notice his fingers twitch against the cushion out of the corner of your eye. 
With a smile you take his cock in your fist, standing him upright, and then you let your tongue dance around the tip, tasting the sweet and saltiness of his precum. He hisses at the sensation, hips jumping up, and you can’t help but suck him for a brief second, looking over at him just in time to see his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut. You feel so much discomfort between your legs that you can’t help but grind down a little on his thighs, needing at least some relief. 
When you pop him out of your mouth, he opens his eyes and lifts his neck up, watching you curiously to see what your next move is. You stroke him slowly a few times, but you want it to be easier, you want to be able to glide across the veiny skin. So you start licking lines up the length almost like he’s a popsicle. You physically see him reel, eyes stuck open this time as if he can’t bear to look away. You keep eye contact, grinning a little, making sure he’s practically soaked in your saliva, and then you run the tip of your tongue along his slit, wiggling it back and fore crudely. 
“_____,” he chokes, now white knuckling the cushion, the palm of his other hand pressing into the floor. He’s twitching like crazy in your hand, veins pulsing. 
“Good?” You ask, lifting away. 
His chest heaves just as you do, grunting when you start jerking him off quickly. 
“Yeah, seriously good,” he strains out, voice sounding a little panicked. “_____, this is… I feel like –” 
“Shhh,” you soothe, knowing exactly what he’s getting at. “If you cum, you cum. I won’t mind.” 
As you finish your sentence you descend once again, this time feeling bolder, wanting to see how far you can take him into your mouth. You want to give him the best head of his life. 
Wrapping your lips around him, you gradually sink down a couple of inches, already feeling the burn, and Jin shouts out as go. You think his head falls back again, but you can’t be too sure because now your attention is solely on the job at hand. You manage to take him halfway, your mouth stretching open as much as you can manage before you begin to bob your head up and down, clumsily finding a rhythm, although you don’t think he minds that you’re doing a sloppy job about it if the airy moans and occasional grunts are anything to go by. 
He does panic when you start choking though, gurgling noise freaking him out, but you reassure him with a couple sucks of his head that you’re okay. “Hold my head,” you murmur, your voice shaky from how turned on you are, and he listens quickly, lifting the hand from the floor to lace his fingers through your hair, eyes rolling back when he feels the flick of your tongue against the underside of his cock. 
By now you’re not even noticing the ache in your jaw, too focused on making Jin feel as good as possible. You think he slips deeper, head of his cock tickling your tonsils but you’re so in the zone you can’t be sure. He glides in and out of your mouth like magic, but of course, you do need to catch your breath at some point when breathing through your nose doesn’t suffice. You lick a long, sloppy trail up his length before you pop off, trails of spit still attached to your mouth, breaking apart and coating his dick even more. 
“Ngnn, _____,” he moans, fingers tightening in your hair as he stretches his body out, pleasure still lingering. “How are you doing that?” 
His disbelief gets you good, praise going straight to your head, and you lean back in to suck at his tip. You don’t stop, the flesh red hot and squelching around your lips, until he’s becoming weak under your grip, oversensitive but somehow desperate for more. 
He sounds just as weak when he speaks again. “If I look at you, that’s it. I’m going to fucking blow.”  
You giggle, unable to stop yourself. You love hearing him curse, gets you hotter for him. The sound vibrates down his cock and sends him close to death. 
“Shit, _____,” he groans. “I-I can’t take much more.” 
You pull back to look at him in all his fucked-out glory. Lips wet and parted, face flushed, chest patched with the same shade of red as his it rises and falls aggressively. “Would you like to cum like this, or wait?” you ask innocently, digging your tongue into his slit to wiggle it back and fore again 
His head falls back, knot in his throat looking so sexy you want to bite it. “It feels so good,” he moans weakly, “but I can’t cum yet.” 
That’s all you need to hear, some kind of decision, for you to stop teasing him any further. The idea of more to come has you pulsing with fresh desire, and you crawl your way up his body, lying on top of him (and ignoring the protests of his sofa) to kiss him like it’s been days. Like you miss him. You do. 
He hums in enjoyment, holding your face passionately, enjoying the taste of himself on your tongue. “Not yet,” he repeats softly, although at the same time he’s rubbing all over you. 
At this point you’re 100% sure you’ve soaked through his shorts that you’re wearing, and if you don’t get some type of relief soon you might just scream. Unable to wait much longer, you ask, “Can we go to your bed?” 
He doesn’t need telling twice. You’re up, he’s up, kicking off his sweatpants like there’s a fire (and for some reason he needs to be naked for it…), but he does pull his boxer shorts up, practically tenting a mile away from his crotch, which is hilarious. You make the short distance to his bed wrapped up in each other, crashing down onto his mattress with a silent bounce – surprisingly. Well done springs! 
All over you, he hurriedly moves from your lips to your neck, kissing you so hard you’ll probably bruise, sucking at the sensitive skin, making you whine and cling to his shoulders. His hands cup your tits, palming you a lot rougher than the first time and you love it. You love that he’s losing it, desperate for you. Soon enough his mouth takes over, sucking more bruising kisses all over the round flesh before the tip of his tongue circles your nipples in turn, teeth grazing you as he pulls away, making you hiss and arch your back into him. His cock prods where your thigh meets your hip, still just as hard as you left him. 
He licks down your stomach, then back up again, on your left nipple, on your right, palms digging into the mattress, holding himself up as his arms shake with want. He’s like a whirlwind and you can’t keep up. You don’t really want to keep up, basking in the attention. 
His hands find the large drawstring knot tied around your hips, and now you’re kicking into high gear. 
“Can I?” he asks, voice trembling with the same urge. 
You moan in reply, nodding your head, and his fingers rush to untie the jumble you created. You didn’t really think it through, although it wasn’t like you could have predicted what would happen. You had no clue Jin would be on a one-man mission to strip you naked not even an hour after you’d tied the knot. 
He struggles, at one point you’re about to suggest some scissors, but just as you open your mouth a cry of celebration fills the room. 
He’s in. And the shorts are off. 
You swear he nearly falls backwards when he sees you’re not wearing any panties. It nearly makes you laugh, but then he meets your eyes, looking like he wants to eat you alive. He scoots down the bed, face directly level with your core, gazing at it like it’s the eighth wonder of the world. “You’re beautiful,” he awes. 
You feel slightly shy from his attention, which is unlike you, but no one has ever sounded this genuine and sweet while complementing… your vagina! You go to close your legs a little, but he stops you with a gentle hand to your thigh. 
“Don’t,” he whispers, looking up to meet your eyes, the swell of your chest rising and falling faintly.  
Slowly, he brings his fingers up to your heat, tracing down your folds and making you flutter. He coats himself in your arousal, lips curling as he chuckles softly to himself. 
He shakes his head, rising slightly. “Nothing, it’s just…” he trails off, as if he’s contemplating whether or not to continue, but then he cracks up again. “I guess I really did get you wet twice today.” 
“SEOKJIN!” you roar. He’s unbelievable. 
He just laughs harder, eyes turning fond halfway through. “I like when you call me that.” 
“I know you do,” you smile, letting him link one of his hands with yours as he leans up to kiss you softly on the mouth. “Enough mush,” you tease when he pulls away. “It’s almost like I’m not butt naked on your bed.” 
“As if I could forget,” he chuckles, nudging his erection into your stomach. “I want you to stay here forever,” he adds as he kisses down your cleavage, making his way down your body again, lips following. 
He stops just below your bellybutton, lifting his eyes as you feel his fingers brush against your entrance. You pulse against them, wanting to be filled so bad. 
“This okay?” 
You bite down on the knuckle of your pointer finger as you nod, watching him intently as he slowly begins to push his own inside of you. You take him easily, body twisting to the side with the perfect intrusion, a soft moan escaping you. He curls and presses it against your inner walls carefully, your eyes falling closed as warm pleasure seeps through your body. Soon enough you feel him add a second digit, copying the movements before beginning to gently scissor you open. You understand what he’s doing, trying to get you stretched enough to fit his cock, and the thought does something to you, has you moaning more frequently, a little louder. The squelching you’re making around his fingers doesn’t help either, so wonderfully lewd it makes your head dizzy. 
Still on your side, Jin’s free hand pushes you back onto your ass, readjusting his fingers slightly, before starting to move them in and out, his pace picking up. You push your feet into the bed with a soft cry, legs lifted at the knee as your thighs tense at the new pleasure, fluttering your eyes open to look down at him. He likes that he’s making you feel good, an accidental noise falling from his mouth as he watches the pleasure on your face, and then he’s switching things up again, long fingers pressing and curling against a spot that has your hips jerking, a tremble that sounds like his name slipping past your lips. 
He goes back to scissoring you, gaze now burning a hole between your legs as he watches you greedily take his fingers, the wet suction noises getting louder, your arousal dripping down his knuckles. You’re wet wet by now, and if he doesn’t manage to fit after this you’ll definitely cry. 
He lifts a little, turning his head to the right. “You’re so soft.” His voice is a whisper, and he places small kiss to the inside of your knee. 
Delicately, he brushes his thumb over your clit and it feels like fireworks are going off inside your brain, taking you this long to realise he’s left that part of your body untouched this entire time. You pulse erratically, letting out a breathy moan, no doubt squeezing his fingers, because now you need more. 
And more he gives.
He looks over at you, gaze almost drunk, definitely desperate. “Can I go down on you?”
You can feel your heart quicken immediately, the idea exciting you a little too much. You already know how amazing his mouth feels against your own, so imagine it someplace else… You feel like you may pass out. 
“Go for it,” you attempt to breeze, but your throat is tight, voice strained. 
Enthusiastic, he wastes no time attaching his mouth to your clit, the sudden contact making your hips jump, but it’s nothing compared to the immense pleasure that follows. He keeps fingering you as he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, tongue flicking against it rapidly. The shock of such an onslaught has you momentarily speechless, but your body reacts madly, squirming around before your feet kick out, one hitting the wall his bed is against. 
“Oh, shit,” you finally manage to get out, a whine escaping you as your hips push into his face on their own accord. 
He makes a noise in return, working his jaw against you harder, wrist still snapping away, incredibly focused on the job at hand. You feel like you can’t handle it, like you might explode. What the fuck is going on?! 
Your voice almost doesn’t sound human when you cry his name. 
He pulls away briefly, a very visible smirk across his face. “Good?” he asks, his hand stilling, but the tips of the fingers inside you continue to press upwards, moving leisurely. His mouth and chin are smeared with your arousal, and it looks so hot you can’t take it. 
“You liar!” you cry out dramatically, back of your head pressing in the pillows. “You said you were inexperienced!”
You hear him laugh, before you tense up, his lips kissing your clit. “Maybe not at this,” he murmurs, making you shiver. Then, more of what you’re used to, he sounds a little awkward, feeling the need to explain. “I mean, I did this a lot because of…” 
You understand, lifting your head to look down at him. He gives you a small smile, cheeks rounding, far too cute for the situation right now. 
“It’s so good,” you praise, one of your hands running through his hair. 
He grunts as you do so, moving in to start working his mouth over you again, tongue dipping between your folds, running along the sensitive flesh. “Give yourself something to hold onto if you like,” he tells you, before sucking on your clit. 
Your hips jump as you moan, fingers tightening into his hair immediately. He’s slower this time, taking his time with it, digits rubbing against your walls, his tongue washing over you, over and over again, occasionally taking your clit in his mouth to suck softly. All you can do is watch and sigh quietly, unable to stop yourself from spreading your legs wider, toes digging into his rumpled sheets. 
His mouth moves, kissing across to meet your thigh, fingering you deeper, enjoying it when you moan, chasing the sound repeatedly. He can do doubt feel the way your skin trembles underneath his mouth, the way you tense up, the pleasure building up, your orgasm near. 
“I want to make you cum,” he whispers. 
“Please do.” Your eyes fall shut as you groan, breath hitching when you feel him back on your pussy, picking up his pace, wrist snapping with fresh enthusiasm. You’d definitely made it appear again, you think to yourself. This afternoon felt like a lifetime ago. 
You feel like you’ve been missing out this entire time, oblivious to the fact that oral sex could feel this amazing. Most guys you’ve been with hardly wanted to go down there at all, and the ones who did never did it long enough (or well enough) to make you cum. So, here right now, is a brand-new experience all together. You don’t know what to do with yourself, how you or your body should react. Not that your mind is in charge anyway. 
Your legs flail around, feet pushing and sliding around the bed as he gets you closer and closer to your high, the noises you’re making choking out of you, his stuttered name in there somewhere. You sound a little panicked, and that’s because you are. Whatever he’s doing down there feels impossible, every nerve in your body vibrating with a pleasure you’ve never felt before. 
“I’m–I-I’m… shit–” You can’t even continue. Even more so when he speeds up, ready for the grand finale. 
The hand not tied up in his hair reaches for him, fingers splayed. He grabs hold of your wrist, anchoring you down, and that’s when you finally give in. You throw your head back with a silent bounce, a cry leaving you as the first hit of your orgasm comes. And it just keeps on coming… Wave after wave, Jin dragging it out for as long as he’s possibly able to, tongue washing over you, feasting on the taste of you, little noises of enjoyment leaving his throat.  
You feel like you’re floating, lightheaded and tingly. Clammy now that you think about it, but you can’t care. Not when it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever received – ever given yourself actually! 
You feel him slide his fingers out of you carefully, the squelch loud, and he softly starts to trail kisses up your belly, between your panting boobs, his hands pressing into the pillow either side of your head as he makes his way to your face. Only then do you let your eyes open, feeling spaced out as hell. Your voice is weak when you’re finally able to vocalise. 
“What. The. Fuck.” 
You’re aware enough to notice how huge and dark his eyes are, his face glistening from the nose down. Lips red and puffy. God, is he beautiful. Even more so when his face lights up with a grin. “You’re going to give me an ego.” 
You pull him to you, his surprised yelp muffled by your lips on his, and you kiss him hungrily, greedily, tasting yourself. His erection digs into stomach, and now you’re just getting driven crazy. Instead of feeling exhausted, you feel ravenous. Needy, your legs tangling up in his as you cling to his body, wanting to feel him everywhere. What has he done to you? 
“Jin, hurry,” you whine against his sticky mouth, sucking on his bottom lip. He’s breathing hard, unable to stop rubbing up against you, desperate for any type of friction. It has you speaking without a filter, feeling a need like no other. “Want your dick.”
You swear to God he nearly chokes, lifting his head back to take a look at you. He’s filled with lust, but still sounds a little uncertain when he asks you, “Now?” 
You nod quickly, unable to stop yourself from reaching down and squeezing him, feeling him pulse against your palm. He grunts, leaning in to kiss you. Your tongue reaches for his immediately. 
“You sure?” he presses, lips trailing down your chin, your throat. 
“Mhmm,” you moan, fingers grazing down his muscular back. “I need you.” 
“Me too.” He moves quickly, leaving the warmth of your body to reach over to his nightstand. “Let me grab a condom.” 
You feel your heart race as you watch him eagerly reach into the second drawer, fiddling around briefly before he procures a gold foil packet. He turns his back to you, raising his butt to push his underwear down, kicking it off when it reaches his ankles. He’s in a rush, dick fit to burst no doubt. His patience up until now was beyond hot of course, but watching his urgency right now? It’s on another level!
He tears open the condom wrapper, throwing it to the side of him. You can’t see him slide the latex on, and you kind of wish you could, but you wait patiently, not wanting to make him uncomfortable in any way. Instead, you sit up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, placing small, sweet kisses against his back. He makes a slight noise, pushing into you slightly, and as you turn your head to the side, the foil packet catches your attention. 
“XL?” you question, raising an eyebrow. 
He chuckles coyly. “Trust me, I’m not making the mistake of attempting to use a regular sized condom ever again.” 
He’s making a joke, and it is funny, but instead of being highly amused, all you feel is highly turned on. He’s a bit startled when you drag him back, leaning around to kiss him wildly before becoming a tangle of limbs as you attempt to straddle him, pushing him to the mattress. You find him so hot you can’t control yourself. Sweet and thoughtful Kim Seokjin with his secret massive dick. 
You’re kissing him so fast he can’t keep up, a breathless laugh escaping him as he manages to get you to stop. 
“What?” you smile. 
“Nothing,” he smiles back, cupping your face in his hands. Then, more quizzically, “Are you really sure?”
“Yes, I’m really sure!” you laugh, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious. “Are you?” 
“More than sure,” he confirms. “Just… Just don’t worry if this doesn’t work out.” 
You nod, understanding his reservations. But he doesn’t yet understand the full extent of your determinedness. You’re fitting his dick inside you whether it’s the last thing you do. 
“Let’s try like this,” you say, sitting up to fully straddle him. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes wide as he looks up at you. “Okay.” 
You grip the base of his cock, the girth of him suddenly intimidating from this position, but you persevere, feeling the way he pulses in your hand, using it as encouragement. He holds your hips gently as you start to push down, taking the tip of him easily. Now just another God knows how much left… But a couple of inches down, you start realising this position was probably a bit too ambitious for your first time together. You already feel so full at this angle, and you hate giving up, you really do, but if you want this to happen, you’re going to have to save riding his dick for another time. 
“This was a bad idea,” you sigh in frustration, pulling off him entirely, feeling extra bad because Jin has been so patient as you attempted to take him. 
“_____, it’s okay,” he consoles, sitting up effortlessly to place a kiss on your cheek. He runs his hands down your back. “We don’t have to…” 
“No, it’s just the position,” you tell him, realising he’s mistaken you. You kiss his lips before chuckling. “Feels like I’m getting impaled.” 
“Oh,” he says, joining you awkwardly – half amused, half freaked out. “That’s not hot.” He holds your hips again, tilting his head to the side. “Let me try?” 
You nod, letting him guide you gently onto to your back, placing kisses to your mouth the entire time. You spread your legs, pressing your feet into his ass as he kneels low between them, wanting him to have as much access as he can. He looks down, holding his length in his fist as he starts to rub the head against your folds, back and fore, the latex making a noise with the movement. 
He stops at your entrance, looking up to shoot you a reassuring smile. “Okay, I’m going to start pushing inside.” 
You nod, holding your breath, and you can’t help but look down to where your bodies meet, heart hammering inside your chest. You’re suddenly really, really nervous. 
Maybe he notices the apprehension on your face, because immediately, with his free hand, he lifts your chin, your gaze meeting his. “Hey, look at me,” he murmurs. You reach to kiss him, feeling calmer already. It makes it easier for when he starts moving, slowly starting to push his cock inside of you. 
You both moan when he gets further than you did, the feeling of him filling you, grazing against your walls, unimaginable. You know you’re already squeezing him tightly, getting used to the intrusion, and for a few seconds he freezes, familiarising himself with the sensation. Your mouths press harder, noses brushing together, and you wrap your arms around his back, tugging him closer, wanting to feel his weight against your body. 
In the process, you push him inside further, causing another moan from you and a grunt of pleasure from him. He tears himself away from your lips to stare down, breath catching in his throat when he sees himself inside of you. 
“How much is it in?” you ask, voice breathy. 
“Nearly all the way.” His voice is shaking, much like his hands that caress your body as he leans forward again, showering you with kisses. “Should I start moving?” 
“Y-yeah,” you whisper. 
He begins to thrust into you shallowly, not attempting to push the rest of his dick inside yet, wanting you to get used to feeling first. Your pussy welcomes him, warm and wet, hugging him tightly, squelching around him, and he loves it, moaning softly with each push of his hips. It makes you lose it even more, moaning louder than him, clutching him tight. 
“I’m not hurting you, right?” he pants, the veins in his neck bulging slightly as he tries to hold himself back from thrusting all the way inside. 
You shake your head, answering with a simple “more.” 
You moan, lifting your hips up to meet his. It’s a little uncomfortable maybe, not used to his kind of thickness, but there’s no pain. You want everything he can give you. You’re sure you’re wet enough. “Give me all of it.” 
He splutters. “Ffuck, _____, you can’t just say things like that.” 
You giggle, liking that you’ve embarrassed him, and nudge your hips up again. He obeys, unable to deny you anything right now, and carefully keeps on pushing, your pussy stretching over him as he gets deeper and deeper. He groans as he finally bottoms out, feeling the way you flutter around him, and you kiss him deeply, chests pressed together, hearts hammering. 
“How does it feel?” he forces out, trying his best to contain himself. 
“Good,” you reassure, running a hand down his back, before gripping onto his shoulders. Just like you’d imagined. “You feel so good.” You’ve never felt this full before. So full. It’s a feeling out of this world. 
“Shit,” he grunts, hips bucking into yours uncontrollably. “You too.” 
You remember then that this is his first time being fully inside a girl, and the thought drives you wild, wanting him to take full advantage – full advantage of you. 
“Keep doing that,” you encourage, one foot pushing into his ass. 
He listens, inside you fully for a few thrusts, getting used to the sensation, before he gains confidence, pulling almost all the way out just to drive back in. You cry out in encouragement, clinging to his shoulders, and he repeats once more, a loud groan puffing against your face. You moan sweetly back, wanting him to know how much you’re enjoying it and much of a great job he’s doing. 
“Is it okay?” he asks, needing confirmation. 
“I love it,” you say, voice a whine. He pumps harder in return. 
Gradually, you start to help him, rolling your hips into his to start up a rhythm, and it feels so good for both of you, you can’t do much else. Apart from the moans, the occasional whimper, there’s no talking, your bodies doing all the communicating. You touch him all over, sliding your hands up and down his sweaty back, fingers grazing the hairs at the nape of his neck, tangling in the brown locks as your mouths move together when they can. Most of the time you’re too distracted to kiss properly. 
After a few minutes he begins to pant your name, face falling into the crook of your neck, your earlobe finding its way between his lips as he sucks on the flesh. “Shit, I’m close,” he shudders, sounding guilty about it. 
“Okay,” you breathe, rubbing his shoulders, a hand slipping down his chest, giving one pec a hearty squeeze. “That’s okay.” 
He lifts his head up, staring at you to make sure. 
“Go a little faster,” you urge, linking your ankles around his lower back. “Use me.”  
That, you find out, is his last straw. His hips immediately snap faster, bed frame starting to creak with the force, and not a minute later he’s moaning loudly, lunging at you as he captures your mouth in a needy, hot kiss. You moan with him, holding him tightly as his hips still, only jumping erratically as he spills into the condom. 
You kiss for a long time afterwards, even after he’s moved away briefly to pull out. Even after he’s tugged the condom off and pushed it into the foil packet. You can’t get enough of one another. 
“Best day ever,” he grins down at you, the both of you still panting but at least you can talk again.
You giggle, the sound bubbling out of you, sounding fond, happy. “Best tip of the day, or what?” you tease. 
He laughs along, going in for another kiss, unable to stay away. He kisses you until your lips feel sore, and even then, you don’t want him to stop. He cups your face, pulling away to catch his breath and stares at you all gooey eyed. (Or as Sunmi would say, with hearts in his eyes). 
“You’re so pretty, I mean it.” 
All you can do is smile gratefully, not one to take compliments well. That, and it makes you a little shy. You’re not used to this much adoration after sex, but you don’t question his sincerity. That’s the type of guy he is. Instead of replying with words, you flip him onto his back, climbing on top of him to kiss him appreciatively. You can’t stop touching him either, running your hands down his broad chest. 
“I didn’t want that to be over,” he confesses against your lips. “Was it too quick? Felt like it.” 
“It was perfect,” you beam as you pull away. “And we can always go again if you want to.” 
“Hm,” he thinks aloud. “I think I might have to take a rain check.” The look on your face must be a picture because immediately he’s looking horrified. “I’m kidding!” he exclaims.  
You huff, rolling off him, your arms folding across your naked chest. 
“_____, I’m just messing around,” he insists, leaning over you. He can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. “Because you said that to me yesterday, remember?” 
You pout. “That was mean.” But when you look up at him, he sees the playful glint in your eyes.
Relieved, he lets out a sigh, kissing your cheek. “I know it was. I’m sorry, beautiful.” 
The affectionate name he uses has your heart skipping a beat. 
“I definitely want to go again,” he assures lowly, gaze deepening as he leans in for your mouth yet again. “Soon.” 
“Soon as in a couple of hours?” you grin, a hand sliding over the curve of his hip. “We still need to put my clothes in the dryer.”
You think back to the items in the bathroom, wondering how long it takes for clothing to smell damp… Not that you truly care right now. You spend the following ten minutes cuddling each other, enjoying the warmth of one another’s naked bodies. You’re surprised you feel this comfortable around him, but then again, he’d immediately become such a calming and welcome presence in your life since you’d gotten to know him. Friends, lovers, possibly more? What was the difference… 
“Hey, are you busy tomorrow?” he asks suddenly, just as your eyes are growing heavy. 
You shake your head, before realising he probably can’t tell what that means with it pressed against his chest. “No,” you add. 
“Good, because I want to take you out on a date.” 
“A date?” you repeat, lifting your head to look up at him. You can’t help but sound surprised. “I’ve never been on one before.” 
“You haven’t?” He sounds shocked himself. 
It’s true. None that you would class as one anyway. Maybe the guys in question thought differently… But a midnight McDonald’s run hardly screamed romance, did it? 
“Okay, tomorrow, 10am.” Jin announces. “We’ll make a whole day of it. Can probably fit in a bunch of different dates.” 
“Like what?” You’re curious and beyond excited. 
“It’s a surprise,” he laughs, tickling your sides. 
You push him away with a weak giggle. Tickling usually makes you angry, but if he’s the one doing it, maybe anger is not the emotion you feel… He listens anyway, arms wrapping around your body again. 
“But I need to know what to wear,” you whine. 
“You look cute in anything,” he tells you simply, kissing the crown of your head. “However…” He trails off, sounding a little embarrassed. 
“Go on,” you press, highly curious. 
He gives you a quick squeeze. “You look the cutest in my clothes.” 
Ha! So he had liked seeing you in his clothes. Your hunch had been correct… 
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A note from Jordan; the guy with the clipboard was Yoongi by the way, and knowing that Jin liked OC he definitely made it possible for her to get the car washed by him (and the rest 😝) So, everyone say ‘thank you, Yoongi.’ This fic wouldn’t have ended the same without him… 😆 
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Written 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
2K notes · View notes
moonchild1 · 22 days ago
kim seokjin fic rec list (Ⅰ)
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here's a list of my favourite seokjin fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed ♡
a- angst s- smut f- fluff ❣- ultimate favourite
Burn after reading by @triviafics a (spy au enemies to lovers au)
first love by @jjkpls f s a (dad jin mom reader)
View by @noteguk s (ceo jin lawyer reader) ❣
one more time by @ssscentral f a (heartbreak and pining) ❣
no diving by @softyoongiionly f s (boyfriend jin) ❣
once bitten, twice shy by @fantasybangtan f (doctor au)
can't keep lying by @1rosex a (cheating au) ❣
Her by @googikoo s a (infidelity readers is his wife's best friend) ❣
Cheater Begger by @kittaebrat a (boyfriend jin)
For the glory by @mingoyeob s
youthful by @namjoonchronicles f (domestic au dad jin)
29+1 by @taeescript f (ceo jin)
Midnight hour by @serenehwa s (relationship au)
So what by @joheunsaram f s (bratty oc) ❣
Picnic date by @lovelyjin22 f (idol au established relationship au)
Little Black Book: The One You Hate by @bluewhale52 s (strangers to lovers au friends with benefits au) ❣
In Need Of Orders by @lemonjoonah s (Kingsman AU)
My Tiny Secret by @personasintro s a (mistress au) ❣
One step by @cutechim f a (pediatrician jin single mom au)
Fixate Inc. by @untaemedqueen f s a (CEO jin secretary reader) ❣
How to lose a guy in 10 days by @tayegi s ft. Best friend Jungkook ❣
Satisfy by @suga-kookiemonster s (kim line x reader escorts au ceo au) ft. Taehyung and Namjoon ❣
Better with you by @ve1vetyoongi s a (fake dating au arranged marriage au) ❣
la douleur exquise by @junqkook s a (soulmate au unrequited love au ) ft. Yoongi ❣
tonight by @mimikookie f a (established relationship au)
Blurred Lines by @yoonia s (sexual tension au teacher jin teacher reader tattooed biker jin) ❣
my type by @floralseokjin s (nerd jin) ❣
crystallised by @floralseokjin s a (fuck boy jin) ft. Yoongi ❣
small tuna fish by @floralseokjin f s (college au friends to lovers au) ❣
time fades away by @floralseokjin s ❣
daddy dearest by @taesinferno s (married dilf jin infidelity au age gap) ❣
éffleurer by @sugaurora s (CFO jin) ❣
half-baked holiday by @ddaenggtan f s a (bakery au friends to lovers au idiots to lovers au) ❣
wash ‘n dry by @seokoloqy (college au)
christmas under wraps by @joheun-saram f s (nurse jin doctor reader) ❣
platonically horny by @joheunsaram f s (best friends au friends with benefits au) ❣
novel complications by @joheunsaram f a (love triangle best friends to lovers au strangers to lovers au) ft. Taehyung ❣
with you by @yoonpobs f s a (divorce au marriage au childhood friends to lovers au) ❣
danger by @xjoonchildx s (hate sex) ❣
better than before by @minjoonalist s (ex jin)
if just for rain by @yoondoze f (friends to lovers au)
I Just Want You for My Own by @joonscypher f a (unrequited love au friends to lovers) ❣
Opaline Moon by @missgeniality f s a (idol au friends to lovers au) ❣
thunder by @ppersonna f s (friends to lovers au)❣
the bitch next door by @littlemisskookie s a ❣
distance by @kz-i-co f s a
the snuggle is real by @chimoona f s (established relationship au)
sugar sweet! by @ditttiii f s (established relationship au) ❣
Kitchen Confidential by @yoonjinkooked s (enemies to lovers au) ❣
slow. dirty. wet. by @clouditae f s (friends to lovers au) ❣
913 notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 4 months ago
the ex not missed (m) | ksj
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❄ title: the ex not missed (m)  ❄ pairing: seokjin x reader(f) ❄ genre/rating: 18+ ; angst, humor, fluff, smut ; romcom ; holiday au, strangers to lovers au, fake dating au ❄ word count: 26.9k!! ❄ synopsis: everything was going according to plan: the promotion landed in your lap, your boyfriend was taking you on a dinner date, and you already had a fancy lodge booked to celebrate the proposal you assumed was coming. except the so-called proposal was a breakup, there were extreme cancellation fees for the resort, and your boss wouldn’t let you work because you hadn’t taken a break in months. at least that gave you an excuse to mope in solitude for a week… because nothing else could go wrong, right? (lightly based on christmas getaway (2017)) ❄ warnings: bad holiday puns and jokes (including the title), explicit language, alcohol, embarrassing moments lol, angst, post-breakup talks, dom!jin, switch!reader, fingering, penetration, seokjin is so considerate and attentive i’m sick, breast play, denied orgasms, light slapping, protective sex, slight choking, crying, oral (m/f rec), did i mention horrible holiday jokes?  ❄ publish date: july 17th, 8pm EST ❄ notes: this is a gift for the hoeliday well spent package of the christmas in july collab hosted by @kookdiaries, @kithtaehyung, and @xiaokoo! the holidays are rolling in a little bit early, so i hope you’re ready to settle down with a warm throw and a comforting mug. thank you endlessly to @kookdiaries​ for the banner and dividers for us all<3 also, this is broken up into days, so you can use them as chapters and go back to them if you need to! ❄ taglist: listed under the cut!
Sender: Rocky Mountain Lodges
Subject: Your Yuletide Getaway is Just Around the Corner! 
Sender: Rocky Mountain Lodges 
Subject: Confirm When Your Sleigh Arrives! 
Sender: Rocky Mountain Lodges 
Subject: [Inquiry Response] Cancellation Fees Enclosed 
Sender: Rocky Mountain Lodges 
Subject: Holi-Date Confirmed! See You Soon!
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DAY 1 
Snow drifts down from the dark and coats winding paths in a soft layer of white. Streetlights wrapped in garlands flood the cobblestones in incandescence, and the smells of cinnamon and fried apples swirl around your hair. 
And you would have appreciated the whimsical scenery had you not been collapsed on the ground and clutching your hip in pain.
An abrupt sigh escapes your lips. You already knew the entire trip was going to be pointless, just like everything you had worked for up until this point in your life. But does it really have to be so violent, too? Why can’t you seem to catch a break? 
Wincing, you take note of your fallen suitcase, the sturdy red shell seemingly in better condition than you are. At least its contents didn’t spill out when you fell—one thing that went right out of twenty-five and counting. 
You don’t purposefully recall the slew of shitty events that occured in the last twenty-four hours, but your mind can’t help but default to the negatives when you’re thrumming with agony. Raising a gloved hand to your face, you rub it and hiss—it is definitely scraped underneath the material. 
Did everything really start with the break-up that happened last month? Or did the chain of unfortunate and uncalled for events begin way before then? In any case, you don’t have a clear answer and, being the person you shaped yourself to be, not having an answer violently shakes your bones. 
Among other things, you’re also thorough, so you remember everything while succumbing to the cold blow of wind slamming into your back. 
For starters, you got broken up with when you thought you were being proposed to—that alone deserved its own plaque and diatribe on your personal wall of shame. But the universe decided that you needed further punishment, so you weren’t allowed to retract your vacation time at work, no one you asked would go with you, you woke up late for your flight, the plane had turbulence every five minutes, and a shaky landing was the cherry on top of that cake.
You shudder from the chill. Maybe this is karma for having a life that’s gone completely according to plan. 
Boots scrape the ground as you bend your legs, further recollection making your head sag between your knees. 
Your coat got caught in a taxi door, you almost missed the train and had to run the whole way, a stranger spilled some choice stew on you, there was a line at the lodge so you had to wait in front of a loud man and behind a couple sucking lips, and when you finally got your keys, you made your way to your cabin and slipped on the pavement, bruising your hip and the palm of your hand. 
Which brings you to where you are now: loveless, flat on your ass on a freezing couples resort sidewalk, and contemplating what the hell you did to deserve it.
You can’t even bring your battered and bruised soul to cry. 
With every bone in your body sagging with defeat, you lug your injured self from the pavement, grunting when a sharp pain ignites in your side. Because of course you have to keep being reminded that the universe isn’t done with you. 
After you bend to retrieve your suitcase—not without a groan that’s comparable to an old man’s outcry—you limp the rest of the way to your assigned cabin. 
A cabin that you have all to yourself for a week. 
At a couples resort.
The plan moving forward is simple. On arrival, you will use up the entire lodge’s hot water supply, retreat to a mediocre bed, and flip on shitty holiday movies. 
Because nothing else can possibly happen once you shut yourself inside.
Something goes right for once when the shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash are all nicely scented and the shower pressure just as perfect. You hum as steam envelopes your wet skin, water and stress flowing into the drain underneath your tired feet. When you rub soap into your scratched palm, you hiss in annoyance, vowing to do nothing except sleep when you towel dry.
Suddenly, a loud bang makes you freeze. 
A door just closed. 
What the fuck? 
Which otherworldly being did you piss off? Nemesis? Because they are hellbent on revenge! 
Your soap bar threatens to shoot out of your grip as you run through ideas and escape plans and scenarios in your mind. Turning off the shower isn’t going to do anything; you know whomever just came into the cabin heard it running. After all, you left the bathroom door open. Why? Simple. You have the place to yourself! 
You panic and turn off the shower anyway, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your shaking form. Darting your eyes around the bathroom, you grab the first thing that you deem worthy of a weapon: an empty, red vase in the shape of a coniferous tree.  
Sneaking out, you tiptoe through your bedroom, peeking out to survey the long hallway ahead. Water slides down your tendrils like raindrops, but you pay no attention because you spot the intruder right away. 
It’s a man. 
A very tall man.  
Hell no. Anything could happen to you, but being jumped by a stranger in a private cabin is not going to be one of them. Psyching yourself up, you heave and grip the vase tight, rationalizing your next actions by knowing that surprise would beat size. 
Transforming into a ball of fury, you tear your feet from the carpet and run down the hallway, screaming like a banshee from adrenaline and waving your vase like a sword.
And the stranger reacts immediately. Loudly. Wildly. You almost stop at how shrill they yell, and they trip before backpedaling away from you. Unrelenting, you chase the intruder into the living room while screaming for him to get out of your cabin.
“Wait! Stop!” 
“Get out!” 
The tall stranger rounds one of the chairs as a makeshift shield. “This is my cabin!” 
Both of you erupt into a stilted dance around the rustic furniture, his head ducking spastically as if you’re going to chuck the vase at him. Frankly, that’s a great idea. 
“I’m serious!” 
“You’re just a perv!” When you run to your left, he shifts to his; when you bolt around the couch, he scurries to the opposite end. 
“No, no, stop! I’m not a— I booked this cabin!” 
“I was the one that booked it!” 
“But my key worked! My packet’s on the table!” 
You stop mid-motion, your arm cocked back and ready to fling the vase at his bespectacled, masked face. 
Wait. Even with half his features covered, you can still tell that the guy is handsome. You take quick note of his clothes, too, recognizing brands that you know you can’t afford.
What the hell? 
“Stay right there,” you order as you back up toward the table, slow. You can’t believe your predicament, hair frazzled and wet and chasing a stranger around a living room that is supposed to be yours and yours alone. The towel wrapped under your armpits is completely drenched, the tile cold and slippery under your feet. 
When you feel your back bump into a chair, you slightly turn your head, flashing it back to the man and holding the vase out before looking at the table. 
There’s a packet similar to yours flopped onto the wooden surface, and glancing at one after the other, you furrow your brows. 
Both have the same cabin number. 
When you rove your eyes over the keys, they also have the same golden number etched into their keychains, one more faded than the other. Voice low, you curse, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Do you believe me now?”
You swivel your head back to the stranger, glaring and noticing that the man didn’t move from his spot behind a couch arm. Your arm feels sore from holding up the vase, but you give it a warning shake anyway. “I’m gonna fix this,” you pledge, boiling to the brim with anger and frustration, “So don’t unpack. I’m going down to the main lodge and demanding that they kick you out.” 
The man jolts into action, circling around the couch and coming toward you. “You can’t do that! I paid!” he warns, and you scoff while snapping back into focus. 
“I damn sure can. Don’t move from that spot!” 
When you turn to head back to your room to change, something occurs that has time bending and slowing down. 
Your towel. 
Had gotten stuck.
In the intricate chair design.
The entire thing rips from your body in one swoop. Immediately, you gasp, letting go of the vase completely. 
“Whoa, wa— don’t move!” 
It’s too late to cover your naked self and much too late to catch the vase. Shards scatter about the tiling, nicking your ankles and pinging off wooden legs. Damp, your dropped towel is completely covered in glass, which leaves you with no choice of covering other than your shivering, trembling arms. 
Shit. No no no. 
Hot embarrassment coats your throat, and you can’t help but choke on a sob and squeeze your eyes shut. You’re naked. You’re not alone. You’re humiliated. “Please don’t look,” you beg, your ire and fury gone in one fell swoop and leaving you so, so unguarded. 
Anything can happen now. You can run away but your feet will cut on the glass. The door is at the end of a long hallway but you think you’re pretty fast when you need to be. 
But despite everything and despite your many alternate plans, all you get in response is a soft, reassuring,
“I’m not.” 
When your eyes open, you peek at the man and feel a rush of relief seeing a forearm thrown across his eyes. 
“Hold on and don’t move or you’ll cut yourself.” 
You watch as he spins around, scanning the living room before walking over to retrieve a thick blanket from the back of a side chair. How did he notice that? You didn’t even see a blanket when you were hunting him down. 
Cold air isn’t the only thing that makes you shudder. 
From your spot amongst the broken glass, you command him to not sneak a peek, though you strangely already know he won’t.
“What do you take me for?” 
“I told you: you’re a pervert.” 
“I am not!” 
When he turns, he levels that same arm over his face while making his way over to you, trying to avoid the glass before extending the material in offering. 
Immediately, you yank it, twirling the blanket around your form and clutching it tight. The red glass remains in a million pieces at your feet, so you have no choice but to stand in awkward silence. 
“There should be a broom in here, too,” the guy blurts after a beat, and you nod before realizing he can’t see you. 
“I’m covered now. And pantry.” 
After revealing his face, the man looks at you funny and you have to squash the voice in your head that admits that he is handsome as hell. You know you can look decent with a black mask on yourself, but him? You find yourself secretly wishing that he would take it off. 
“Mm, probably in the coat closet.” His voice isn’t too bad, either. 
“You sure?” 
“Definitely closet.” 
“Definitely pantr—” 
“Oh, look, a coat closet! Right down the hall.” 
You purse your lips in annoyance when his boots clunk around the tiny kitchen island to avoid the glass splatter, and when he rounds it to come back to you he makes his way to the hallway on your side. Eyes rolling heavenward, you wait as you hear the squeak of a door opening—and smirk when it shuts a little too hard. 
“Did you find it?” 
“Looks like we don’t have a broom.” 
“Oh, shut up and check the pantry.” You point to the opposite end of the kitchen towards the door by the fridge. “Also, there’s no ‘we.’ You’re leaving soon.”  
When he makes his way there, you roam your eyes across the expanse of his back. With a puffy jacket on, you can definitely tell how broad his shoulders are, and you cast your look away when you feel the pinprick of attraction behind your eyes. 
He may be handsome and considerate but you do not need anyone else occupying this cabin with you.
You watch as the man gingerly makes his way around the glass-mottled tile. When he opens the door, the slight pause indicates your tiny victory, but it is his nose scrunch that has you fighting back a smile. Wrapped in a scratchy blanket and naked underneath, you should be feeling uncomfortable in his presence. 
“I’m right, aren’t I?” 
“Lucky guess.” 
So why do you not feel too bad? 
Even when he approaches your swaddled form, wordless and with purpose, you can’t find any outright negative feelings in yourself. Should this scare you? Should you be alarmed? 
Tiny clinks skip around the kitchen floor, mingling with the sweep of the broom as he carefully clears the tile. Red shards slowly pool in the dustpan he carries in one hand and, as you silently watch him, you admit that his looks are growing on you. 
The first thing you really notice are his glasses—round, thin, and a bit too big for his face. But that’s probably why you’re partly disarmed, you muse. Something about them dwarfing his features makes him softer, more delicate, though he may not be of the sort. 
Dark bangs fall over his spectacles and tickle the tops of his eyes, but his lips are the ones that snag your gaze next. With the man not running away from you or even paying attention to you, you finally observe him in earnest and his lips are absolutely full. Plush. Inviting. 
All in all, you start to think that he certainly doesn’t seem like a sleaze or a pervert—not that you are going to outright tell him that. In fact, you’re simply wondering why someone like him is even staying in a place like this by himself. 
Shouldn’t he be cozied up somewhere with a family? Or tenderly sweeping the floor around his lover’s ankles instead of yours—a frazzled, high-strung stranger? This is a couples resort, is it not? Where is his other half? You blurt out the question you’ve been wondering, to which the man simply replies with, 
“It’s just me.” 
He continues to sweep around your feet, ignoring the drops of water falling from your hair. “You?” 
You remain unblinking as you pause, finally answering, “Same. Just me.” 
It’s intriguing. The man seems next to unbothered by the situation. As the ruby glass collects in the dust pan, you lose yourself in thought, wondering what would have happened if your ex was the one that was with you. Would he have done any of those things had he witnessed your quick downfall? 
Truthfully, he probably would have just laughed at you for a good five minutes until you chomped his ear off to bring you a towel. It would have been pulling teeth to get him to even find a broom. 
Your curiosity and pity are almost enough to distract you from the pain you feel in your body. Pain that is now flaring up with a vengeance. 
“Hey, you okay?” 
Flinching, you tear your gaze from the floor to see him staring at you, finished with the broom and leaning with it on the small kitchen island. 
How long have you been staring into the void? 
“Yes. I…” What are you supposed to say? You slipped on the pavement twenty paces from your cabin and were rewarded with purplish consequences? You’re horribly single at a couples lodge because the cancellation fees were egregious? Decidedly, you omit the truth. “It’s nothing.”  
The stranger’s reply is immediate. “It’s not nothing. But you don’t have to tell me, so it’s fine.” 
A strange feeling settles into your quaking bones. There isn’t anything else you can think of to say at the moment, so taking one more look at the perfectly fine floor around your feet, you start the slow limp to your bedroom. 
After a few steps, you toss an order over your shoulder, “Don’t unpack. After I put on some clothes, I’m going to the main lodge to sort this out.” 
The stranger sighs behind you, and the squeak of a chair registers in your ears. When you get to the end of the hall and into your room, a man staring at a table, reticent, is the last thing you witness before shutting your creaky door. 
The person in the mirror makes you wince. 
Well, your reflection is the cause of your first reaction. The fact that whomever is out there definitely saw you naked sets the lines in your face even deeper. Roaming your shaking hands across your tender, burning side, you hiss when the softest touch coaxes a sting. 
The whole point of going into the bathroom was to check your feet for any glass—you were not letting that man anywhere near your toes—so you lift your leg to place a foot on your tub. While you inspect your ankles and below for any tiny shards, an epiphany weasels its way into your brain. 
You didn’t thank the guy once. 
Going over everything that just transpired, you realize: he covered his eyes to not see you, got you a blanket to cover your dignity, and swept up the results of your mistakes around your feet. Even after all that, you didn’t say anything other than for him to stay put. 
Did your self-deprecation transform you into an inconsiderate pig, too? 
Sighing, you lug yourself out of your master bath and find some clothes to change into. Gripping a pair of gloves in your hands, you force yourself to consider another option other than going down to the main lodge to fix things. 
But, in the end, your final decision is for the best. This is meant to be a week spent alone where you could wallow in your sorrows with no interruptions. Even though your boyfriend—ex, you remind yourself with a scowl—wasn’t the most considerate, he was still what you had for a couple years. You really did think he was the one you would settle with and your life plans would stay on track. Maybe it’s a sign that you shouldn’t fit love into your future anymore. 
Why did you in the first place anyway? It’s fleeting. Unpredictable. Destructive. You like things in order, in control, as planned. 
Just like you planned for this week to be as mundane and ordinary as possible.
Two slaps of your gloves later, you hmph with finality. 
When you open your bedroom door, you immediately flinch at what greets you: your unwanted roommate is just a few steps away, leaned against the hallway wall.
You wonder if this is something he always does.
“One quick thing before you go down there,” he says pointedly, his masked chin raised a bit.
“I’m not leaving.” 
“Yes, you are,” you correct him, shutting your door behind your rigid back. Arms crossed as much as your thick jacket will allow, you huff, “So deal.” 
Instead of appearing intimidating like you wanted, your appearance has the opposite effect. The masked stranger’s eyes crease at your blobbed form as he explains, “I already called and explained what happened, and they said they’re booked for the night. Overbooked, actually, which would explain this.” His pointer finger waved between your bodies as he clarified the last part. 
“So unless you wanna rock-paper-scissors,” the irritating man continues, “I’m staying.” 
You snort. “I’m not going to decide how my entire week goes based off a dumb recess game.” 
“Dumb? Entire wars have been decided on rock-paper-scissors.” 
“Now you’re just fucking with me.” 
“I mean, it’s possible. Those were just so short that they weren’t worth mentioning in history books.” 
Shaking your head to stop the conversation before it derails any further—and purposefully ignoring his endearing chuckle—you hold up a hand. “In any case, I booked this cabin six months ago.” 
“Well, it let me book it just last month, so…” 
You’re irritated at the fact that it just so happened to line up with the time you checked on the cancellation fees, right after your boyfriend broke up with you. Did you somehow cancel his invitation and not yours? Why would you have done that and not just cancelled everything? 
Flexing your free hand before tightening it into a fist, you turn while growling, running everyone over with your sleigh as you make your way to the front door.
Annoyingly, the stranger is on your heels. “Wait, where are you going?” 
“Down to the lodge! This is ridiculous!” 
“Do you have the memory of a goldfish? I said I called and—” 
“I don’t care! I’ll make them find you a shed or nearby hotel to stay in for the night.” 
“A shed? Grinch!” 
Your hand twists the doorknob as you parry, “Well this grinch needs a cave to herself, so I’m kicking you ou—” 
The slightly opened door shuts with a bang, courtesy of the man’s large hand. Startled and wondering what the hell just happened, you widen the space between you and back up against a wall. 
“Oh, shit, sorry!” Frazzled, he rips off his mask, assumedly as a show of innocence that you don’t buy. With a slight lift of your eyebrows, you realize with a start that the man is downright gorgeous. “I didn’t mean to—I’m not—Just wait.” 
Body still tense, you bite out, “Wait for what, perv?” 
“I’m not a… Look,” the man sighs, scratching the top of his head with a middle finger. “Tomorrow, I’ll go, okay? You can throw out my luggage and I won’t say a word. Just let me sleep in an actual bed. Just for tonight. Please?” 
“Why should I?” 
“Because that would be the decent thing to do? Look, I’ve had one hell of a day and even got knocked over at the station, so I missed my train and had to wait in the freezing cold for the next one.” He holds up a hand to show you the results of a fall, and you furrow your brows because they somewhat match yours. “I promise I won’t do anything. I’m not a pervert, or a stalker, or whatever you think I am. I’m just… I’m just tired.” 
Lips pursed in a line, you don’t respond at first, only observing his heaving chest and pleading eyes. Without anything covering his face or his hair, you can finally see him in earnest. Is it the curve of his jawline that has you lowering your guard? Or the tongue darting out to wet his full lips as he awaits your answer? 
Or is it the familiar look in his eyes, the one that you strangely think mirrors one you have in yours? 
Sighing in defeat, you relent, “Fine. Just for tonight.” Arms that you didn’t know were crossed around your body lower to your sides, and a sudden wave of tiredness hits you tenfold. With the frustration that perseveres in your veins, you side-eye the guy before going to your room. “First thing I’m doing after waking up is heading down there, so I hope the sleep is worth it, Mr. Intruder.” 
“It’s Seokjin.” 
You silently wave off his words, knowing that you won’t be needing his name at any point other than who to tell the concierge to boot out of your cabin. 
When your door is almost closed, you hear a quick, “Wait! You didn’t even tell me your name.” 
“You’re right.” When you peek through the door, you drink in the man’s ruffled hair and curious eyes. “I didn’t.”
Multiple hours pass before you finally slip into a fitful sleep.
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Soft light makes you stir, a reminder to shut your curtains all the way for next time. 
When you loll your head to the side, a red 8:03am is the only thing that greets you—not another warm body in your bed, not an expected proposal and engagement, not a concrete future. 
Just you and your digital clock having a staredown. 
It’s definitely a later rise for you, having being used to your circadian rhythm kicking you awake at five o’clock every morning. Going through a quicker version of your routine, you exit your room and immediately get hit with the sounds of holiday music mixed with a subtle smell of breakfast. 
You want to smash whatever speaker is being used.
But whatever Mr. Intruder is cooking, it smells divine. 
Padding into the kitchen, you peek into the room before fully entering, watching the commotion inside and cocking an eyebrow in heavy interest. 
Focused, the guy—something-Jin, you think—busies himself at the stovetop to your left, lightly flipping a piece of bread on a pan and singing as it sizzles. He’s decked out in pajamas as opposed to your full ensemble: plain white tee and soft pants under one of the robes supplied by the cabin. His glasses still adorn his nose, and you fight your smile at the way he pushes them up his face. 
“I hope you’re packed,” you blurt out, amused when Mr. Intruder flinches with a hard grip on his panhandle. The song continues but he definitely stops singing along. 
“Excuse you! Don’t scare a guy when he’s at a stove.” 
“You’re leaving today,” you comment, brushing off his unspoken rule. 
“Are you packed?” 
“I can pack in two minutes,” something-Jin deadpanned. “Breakfast is just too essential to skip.” 
“What happened to ‘you can throw out my luggage and I won’t say a word?’” 
“I recall no such thing, Miss Nameless.” 
“Don’t call me that.” 
“Then tell me your name.” As he slides the crispy toast onto a plate that’s already covered in scrambled eggs, he goes back to singing. 
Only to stop again when you reject him. 
Spinning towards you, robe billowing, the man scoffs, “Then excuse me for trying to address you somehow! You want to be called ‘you’ instead?” 
“Sure,” you respond, dismissive and ignorant of the not one, but two plates being set on the island. 
“Fine. Then I don’t like you, You.” 
As your gaze settles on the plate of food in front of you, you glance up with a look of caution. 
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Mr. Intruder assures before leaning on the island to dig into his share. 
As the old-timey radio on the counter scratches into advertisements, you continue to stare at your forced roommate. 
Watching him eat is extremely calming. Is that supposed to bother you? 
You shake your head before timidly picking up your fork to dive in. While you’re chewing, you knit your brows, wondering how such a plain meal like eggs and toast can be this delicious. Sparing another look at your roommate, you start to also wonder what the hell is up with him and if he’s actually as single as you are. There’s no way he booked a couples lodge just because. 
Instead of asking him about more serious things, you question, “Where’d you learn to cook?”
Something-Jin stops mid-chew, stifling a laugh as he answers, “Eggs and toast? Umm…” Swallowing and causing you just the slightest bit of pain, his words come out slow, “From my mom. When I was five.” 
“Ass.” You huff. “You know what, that’s what I’ll call you from now on.” 
“Won’t be the first time.” 
The rest of your meal passes in silence, and you take your plate to the sink to wash before padding to the living room. Getting your signal, Mr. Intruder clumps up the stairs to the second level that exists as a half-floor above your room. 
As you hear him packing away, you use that time to peer out the sliding door you have downstairs. There’s a tiny porch outside the doors, decorated with a wooden table and two adirondacks, all of which are slowly being buried in white. 
You didn’t realize it was snowing. 
Thumps of boots on stairs reach your ears, and you swing your head to notice your roommate dressed in winter clothes head-to-toe. He even has the same black hat and mask as yesterday. 
“Ready to be kicked out,” he says, the words dripping with sarcasm. 
It’s almost enough to make you feel bad, but you silently pull yourself from the couch and stride into the kitchen before entertaining any second or third thoughts. It’s for the best. You wish this stranger and surprisingly good cook a happy rest of his holiday but you just need time to yourself. 
“Don’t make it sound so sad.” 
“Is it not?” 
You turn to look at him as you cross the tile. “You’ll live.” 
And not watching where you’re going is a mistake. 
Your hip suddenly collides with the island. 
Pain. Agonizing pain shoots to the tips of your fingers and whooshes to the edges of your toes. Like weak paper, you easily fold, yelping and grabbing the counter for balance. The universe proceeds to cackle.
There is a rush at your side, and suddenly something-Jin-why-didn’t-you-pay-attention-to-his-fucking-name is there kneeling, ripping off his hat and pulling down his mask to assess the damage. 
“Lemme see it.” 
You rasp out, “It’s nothing.”
“Enough! Let me see it.”
As you reluctantly listen for once and hike your clothes above your hip, you whimper as you tug your pants low enough for your roommate to assess. Regret and self-loathing and embarrassment clog your throat, pricking the corners of your eyes as you try your damndest to not whine at the sting. But the man in front of you is being so attentive. Why?
As his hands reach out to touch your leg, he pauses. In the softest voice you’ve heard from him yet, he asks, “Can I?” 
You can only nod, and something else causes the swell inside your chest to leak out of your ducts. The only thing you can do is stand there as Jin—you will call him that for now—roams his eyes over your bruise, well purpled after hours. His brows are furrowed in the midst of concern, his lips pushed together with concentration. 
It’s a few tense seconds of silence, crackling. You gulp.
Done with his assessment, the man stands and points toward the living room behind you. “Sit down. We’re not going yet.” 
Dropping back to reality, you scoff, “Why not?”
“Because that’s so purple I would’ve mistaken it for an eggplant emoji tattoo!” 
Seriously? This guy is something else. You don’t know whether to laugh at his statement or groan. 
You decide the latter. “You’re so lame, you know that?”
The insult is completely ignored as he reprimands you with a face that leaves no room for argument. “I’ll be right back. Be good and sit down? Please?”
Despite your sour mood, you appreciate his decisive nature. Almost everyone you’ve dealt with so far, be it work or other areas of life, have been wishy-washy or flaky. Indecisive. Annoying. You might have thought this man’s commanding nature attractive had you been in a different predicament. 
Grumbling gibberish, you limp to the couch, plopping down and wincing when your hip flares up again. The snow outside is piled a little higher than before, and you take stock of the tiny fireplace in the corner of the room next to a quaint television stand. 
Both of them would have been great amenities put to use by now if you hadn’t been thrust into a roommate situation. The scowl that sets into your jaw rivals the upset moose in one of the hallway paintings. When a song insulting the Grinch comes on, you scoff at the irony. 
“Scooch forward.” 
Turning your head, you see Jin holding a bottle in one palm and a tube in the other. A sigh leaves your mouth before you blow out, “I promise I’m fine. Can we just go?”
“No.” Jin goes to kneel in front of you, waving for you to do as he says. 
You oblige, past the point of liking this bossy version of him and deeming him an annoyance. When you’re at the edge of the seat—and closer to the man than should be necessary—you fold your lips in waiting. 
Jin reveals both items at the same time. “Pain meds? Or rubbing ointment? We have ice, too, so if you don’t want either of these, I can get that.” 
“Seriously? I could’ve just opened the screen door and stood out there, you know.”
“And yet you waited for me.” His eyes crinkle in playfulness. “What a mystery.”
“Ugh.” You jut your chin out to the rubbing ointment. “I’ll have that, but I can do it myself.” 
“You thought I was gonna do that? As if!” Jin’s words are gruff, but you can tell he’s just messing with you, so you let them slide. He gets up after handing you the tube and walks to the kitchen to get his hat and glasses from the island. 
While applying the gel to your bruise, you’re already relieved when it starts working, mind whirring so hard that you feel like your ears resemble twin smokestacks. 
From the moment you chased him down with a vase, the dynamic between the both of you has been simply, incredibly one-sided. Jin didn’t need to find you a blanket and wipe the glass from the floor; he didn’t need to make you breakfast; he surely didn’t need to turn pseudo-doctor for you and find multiple options to better your health. 
Seemingly for no reason, too. You certainly don’t deserve anything he’s done. There weren’t any offers made, no deals propositioned between the two of you. He simply did all of those things anyway because he seems like a good person. 
And you have been anything but that. 
Head lowered, you roll the plastic tube in your palms, rethinking the decision you made earlier. You start to say-- 
Nothing. You don’t say anything because there’s a hearty knock on the front door followed by a much too chipper voice for the morning, the festive cheer trying to smush through the wood. “A jolly hello to you! I have a brief message for The Kims!” 
Air leaves you in a rush. You briefly forgot that the lodge is a couples’ resort, therefore used to speaking as if everyone is together. Because why wouldn’t they be? 
Hearing your ex’s last name after awhile causes unrest in your stomach. After you curse under your breath, you tear yourself from the couch—not without a wince—and make your way down the long hallway to the front door. 
Jin’s still in the kitchen as you pass without a glance, but you hear his footsteps follow you the rest of your journey, ignoring all of your weak swats to stay back.
The man at the door is dressed in the most obnoxious holiday colors you’ve ever seen, like he jumped one of Santa’s helpers and stole their uniform. When you open your mouth to tell him to get lost, he bursts, “Why, hello, Missus Kim! I’m here to inform you that the Gingerbread House Competition will be starting in fifteen minutes. Please make your way down to the main lodge and into Conference Room A, and remember: late sleighs don’t get to play!” 
Before you can recover from the atrocious message, your jingling informant is already hopping back down your steps and heading to the next cabin. 
Which leaves you with a look of utter disgust in front of a man that can barely contain himself. 
“That… Was impressive.” 
Spinning while shutting the door with a thump, you question, “How on Earth was that anything but creepy?” 
Jin looks down at you with mirth splashing his face. “I meant it was impressive how you let the elf leave alive.” 
Rolling your eyes, you march past your forced roommate and scorch the hallway with your boots. “Yeah, well. Let me get our packets and then we can head to the front office.” 
“You don’t want to go to the competition?” 
“No. I barely know you, so why would I do something with you?” You’re at the table when he keeps laying on the offence. 
“Do you know everyone’s name on a roller coaster? When you go on a cruise?” 
“Well, no.” 
Jin points a finger at you while smirking. “Exactly. Let’s just go. Who knows what’ll happen!” 
“Forget it.” 
Kicking your head back in a sigh, you regret forgetting about the many activities you had planned while booking the lodge, including the event involving spiced construction pieces. You somehow thought it would be a nice way to build a home before building your own--he was an architect, after all--but now the very idea sounds downright cringey. 
In fact, you booked all the events based around your ex’s likes and preferences. It only seemed logical that he would like them, so you simply chose them and didn’t look back. 
You need to cancel them. Erase them all from your schedule, kick this tall intruder out, and spend the week with your two best friends merlot and cabernet sauvignon.  
“Because I want nothing more than to just stay in here. If you haven’t noticed, there is no Mr. Kim. I’m by myself. Just me.” After snatching the flimsy packets from the table and clunking over to the radio to smack it into silence, you make your way to Jin. “You can’t even get into the events without your partner, so I need to go down to the concierge and cancel them anyways.”  
“It’s just me, too. Remember?” 
Your feet stop a couple paces in front of his expression. You notice his eyes flash with emotion before looking right at your face. “Okay… And?” 
“And now I think I know why they booked me this cabin. My full name is Kim Seokjin, so they must have assumed...” 
Great. Another Kim man to come along and ruin your life. If there is a third one out there, send him in so you can get all the suffering over with. “Oh,” is all you end up saying, the brevity of the situation weighing the lone syllable down. 
“But I get it.” As you stand there, he taps his jeans with two fingers. “Let’s go kick me out.” In a feeble attempt to not make you feel guilty, he flashes a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 
And while you firmly nod and stomp out into the cold, you aren’t quite sure if it worked. 
“I’m sorry... But what the hell? Are these correct?” 
“I’m afraid so, ma’am.” 
Peering down at the many, many unnecessary fees laid out on the sheet in front of you, your blood temperature starts to spike again. You’re sure that seeing red means more than taking in the excessive decor around the lobby in this situation. “Isn’t this a bit ridiculous?” 
“It’s a jolly company policy,” the clerk with springy hair chimes, ignoring your look of disdain for the holiday lingo. “If you can’t attend or need to cancel for any reason, there are cancellation fees to account for the setup and staff accommodations.”  
“It’s two thousand dollars.” 
The look of concern on the woman’s face is genuine, but so is your fury. She tries to sympathize with a light tone. “I am aware that it’s pretty steep, but… Those would be the fees if you cancel everything.” 
“Are there fees for everything here? Everything up until this point has been a mistake. You even booked this guy—” 
“Now, now.” You feel a placating hand on your arm, and you whip your head sideways. The look on Jin’s face is commanding you to go along with whatever he’s about to say. “This guy is your boyfriend, remember, sweetheart?” 
You know he’s just covering you. You know it. But the way he casually gives you a nickname and says it like you’ve been dating for centuries ties your feelings in bows and you can’t seem to untangle them. Inhaling as to not explode, you clench your teeth together. “Yes, honey,” you grit out. “But we need to get things settled, right?” 
“I don’t know…” Jin gives you one slow shake of his tilted head before clicking his teeth. “That’s a bit of money, yeah? Especially when we can just attend.” His brows cock up behind his glasses, and you hate being trapped in the position you’re in. 
Because one, you can’t kick him out of your cabin anymore. At least, not with this same concierge. It would be completely awkward for you to say that he’s a total stranger after what he just said. Two, you would be slapped with hefty fees should you move forward with all the cancellations, so having him be there with you would banish any need for that. 
But you really don’t want to do any of them. 
Especially if you’re being forced to now. 
Oh, how you loathe this entire trip. 
“So it’s settled then?” 
At the chipper voice you want to bash with an empty red vase, you flash a toothless smile. “Yes, that would be all.” 
“Great!” The papers in front of you are shuffled before getting taken to a shredder. “Have a great time! You’re such a cute couple, by the way.” 
“We get that a lot!” Jin interjects before you can blow your cover expeditiously. “Thanks!” He leads you away from the concierge immediately after grabbing the packets, and you duck your head to cover the flush fizzling under your cheeks. 
Why did you care about that comment? The two of you are total strangers! Why did your heart seem to beat for once and even do a little flip for good measure? 
After you cross the front lobby, rounding the towering Christmas tree in the middle and under one of the archways on the other side strewn with lights and garlands, Jin finally releases your arm. Dramatically, you shrug him off at the same time. 
“We aren’t a couple,” you mutter. 
“You don’t think I know that, Miss Obvious?” The guy ruffles his hair before fixing his bangs, and you can’t help but stare at the way his eyes shine behind his glasses. He really is attractive, even when he’s not cooking or sweeping glass away from your feet. “We just have to act like one until all of these events are over.” 
“I really don’t think this is a good idea.” 
“Why not?” 
You don’t answer his question, instead grappling for ways to get out of it. Begrudgingly, you can’t grasp one. Two-thousand dollars is a punch to the gut. 
Checking his watch, Jin tuts, “We don’t have a lot of time.” 
The aggravated sigh you expel gives him pause. “I hate this,” you say truthfully. “This trip was supposed to be… Whatever. The main point is that I booked a lot. I should just cancel--” 
“Wait,” Jin holds out a hand, and you watch him furrow his brows with a heightened interest. 
Shifting his eyes to look at you, he inhales as a decision seems to have been made. “Let’s just make a deal. A business deal, since you seem like the type to like those.” 
You don’t admit that he’s right, but your pursed lips betray your silence. Merry tunes fill the hallways to lighten peoples’ moods, but you’re completely immune, stirring in your continued stew of consequences and mistakes. 
Jin continues, “I’ll go with you to whatever you have planned, and you let me stay. I didn’t have anything booked until the last night, anyway, so I’m free.” His hand juts out in front of you then, and you regard it with a mix of interest and disdain. “Deal?”
Two-thousand dollars. 
You give him a firm shake.
Jin humphs in triumph before he starts walking towards Conference Room A down the hall. As if he suddenly forgot something, he spins on his heel. “Actually, I require one more thing.” 
“We already shook on it.” 
“And you broke company property. Should I tell them about that?” 
A sharp exhale leaves your mouth. When his smug eyes turn around, you follow him with frustration, directing your Scrooge-like scowl at the different mini shops lining the hallway on one side and the frosted windows on the other. “Fine. What thing?” 
“Well, two things.” 
When something catches your eye, you stop momentarily. It’s a beautiful crimson scarf on display in one of the fir-lined windows, flecks of subtle gold twinkling in the threads. It reminds you of the garb donning royalty in one of the romance novels you used to read. 
Too bad you don’t deserve anything so extravagant; you barely think you deserve this vacation. Nothing ended up happening at that dinner. Why should you stay in a luxury couples resort right now? Why did you even come? “You’re insufferable, you know that?” 
At your side, Jin turns to you and points a long finger. It seems this is a gesture he does often. “One: have fun.” 
You smack his hand and the ridiculous request away. “No. And two?”
The man looks absolutely offended behind his round specs. “You’re gonna say no to not having fun? Are you really green and furry on the inside?” 
“These events are not going to be fun.” 
“Not with that attitude.” 
“I’m only going because I have to,” you seethe, not wanting to give him anything more than that. You want to keep your reasons private. Is it the right choice, though? “Not because I want to. And before you ask, I don’t want to talk about it.” 
“Okay, sorry.” Jin relents then, peering into the window before puffing up again. “Fine. If you can’t do number one, here’s number two.” 
Arms folded, you wait.   
“Don’t hurt me.”
Your aggravated sigh smushes into his back since he vacates directly after his second request. A nonsensical request, at that. You were expecting something of monetary value, or at least something more substantial than refraining from inflicting harm. Though you suspect the way you ran at him with a vase had something to do with that one. 
As he goes up to the clothed table in front of the conference room, you’re already wanting to turn and bolt back to your cabin.
The two young adults sitting behind the table are awaiting your names to check you in, jingling hats on top of their bored heads. 
“Mister and Missus Kim, please,” Jin announces, voice low. Did he do that so you wouldn’t hear him say it? And he’s been calling you Miss this whole time. Why did he go along with the Missus? You feel strange. Weird. 
“Table four,” the girl says, lazily handing him a laminated paper that has his—and your supposed—last name on it in bold, horribly curly font. “Hurry up or you’ll be… late.” Her words taper off when she finally looks at your pseudo-boyfriend. Instantly enamoured, her eyes beam like an entire tree suddenly lit.
“For a very important holi-date!” Jin simply sings on before sauntering into the room, waving off the girl’s confused expression and your shaking, embarrassed head on his heels.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
Your annoying business partner swivels and winks at you, and you can tell a smirk accompanies it under his mask. You aren’t sure if you feel lucky or betrayed that you can’t see it. “Then that would be a nightmare before Christmas, wouldn’t it? If anything, I’m your lifesaver. We’re gonna win this, too.” 
“Pfft,” you blurt. “The prize is probably going to be super lame anyways. Like you.”  
“...And the winner of this morning’s competition will win five hundred dollars! Happy house building!” 
You can only stare, slack jawed, as the announcer tinkers a triangle to start the competition, couples eagerly getting to work around your station. Beside you, Jin’s mouth is agape as much as yours is—he had since taken off his mask since you grabbed a table—before he slips into a smug grin. “If you think I’m as lame as five hundred dollars, I’m flattered.” 
“Oh, shut up,” you hiss. “Come on, let’s get to work.” As you stare at the many accoutrements and various decorations, you try to formulate a plan in your head. This is serious now. You didn’t expect that big of a prize. 
But Jin is already building the frame without discussing with you, so you clutch his wrists. Surprisingly soft wrists. “Wait. There’s gotta be a best way to do this.” 
“Yeah,” he drawls. “Make the house.” 
“No, but,”—you hesitate, releasing his limbs—“It’s gotta be perfect if we’re going to win.” 
“You don’t have to be perfect to win.” Jin cocks a brow at your confused look before he smiles, glasses nudged up his nose before he looks back at the gingerbread slabs. “Sometimes being unique is the deciding factor.”      
“But what about precision?” 
A laugh punctuates your question. “I would say you’re fun at parties, but I don’t think you go to those.”
The next ten minutes consist of even more arguments, and you barely miss the mix of upset and endearing looks being shot your workstation’s way like arrows from a different holiday. 
Even through the semi-tense atmosphere and your death glares, Mr. Intruder still finds ways to stay amused. “You know where you’d be without me?” 
“In a quieter place.” 
“On a…” He holds up one of the roof pieces that already have an indented design. “Shingles retreat.” 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, your words immediately buried by the giggling poking your side. “How are you so lame?” 
Jin casually lays his arm on the plastic tablecloth, resting his chin in his palm. “Asks the one making a gingerbread house at a luxury resort.” 
“Whatever. Focus, will you? There’s a prize to win.” 
“I hope there’s a trophy, too.” 
“There’s five hundred dollars on the line and you’re worried about a trophy? Who are you?”
“A guy that likes trophies.”  
After the frame is constructed, you put it upon yourself to ice the shingles design into the roof. But you underestimated the level of skill it needs. Damn Jin for making it look so easy while he put your house together. 
You feel the heat of a stare as you pour all of your brainpower into spreading the white substance out. When you keep getting it uneven or clumped, puffs of frustration leave your lips. 
Until hands softly cover your own and there’s a voice next to your ear, “Don’t rush it.” 
You tense and make to elbow the guy back, but you remember that this is a couples’ activity, so it would look very strange to others if you’re physically fighting your partner. 
So you let him guide your hands along the ridges, and you smile just a bit as the icing starts to outline the house in creamy goodness—pretty and even. You’re so sucked into the way it leaves the piping bag that you don’t notice the way your construction partner presses a little closer to you, his sweatered chest soaking in the heat of your back. 
When you do notice his proximity, you weasel your way forward and cough out, “Umm, so that’s done. What’s next?” 
Jin backs up immediately and retakes the seat next to you, his voice staying the same as before. “What would you like to do next, Miss Captain?” 
“You don’t need to say Miss before everything!” 
“Why not, Miss Before Everything?” 
After the pair of you manage to have an iced house and even some semblance of a yard, you proceed to bicker over something else: candy decor.  
“Listen to me. Gumdrops are the superior topper for the roof.”
“But they’re the most predictable! Let’s go with the Kisses.” 
“It would literally look like someone took a shit on our house.” 
Jin spits out his laughter, covertly taking a red chocolate morsel and slipping it into some spare icing. “You know what you’re being right now?” 
You’re not paying attention as you huff out, “What?” 
Planting the candy right onto your unsuspecting nose, Jin stares you right in the eyes.
As your eyelids slowly sag in defeat, the charming sound of his laugh makes you fight the urge to smile alongside him. 
It’s boisterous. Uncompromising. It’s the laugh of a person that lives life just to live it, and you didn’t know that it was possible to tell that about someone just based on one sound alone. The warmth you start feeling inside your chest melts any embarrassment you think to feel from having a sugary nose.  
Still. It doesn’t take away your eyes on the whopping prize up for grabs. There isn’t much time left. “Come on, be serious,” you mutter, swiping the candy from your face with a napkin. “I need this money so I can cancel all the other activities.” 
Your implication is caught immediately. “Hey!”  
You don’t need the money for cancellations since you’re being forced to attend everything, but any extra funds would be nice now that you can’t fall back on another bank account. There are so many things that you need to figure out now, and here you were making gingerbread houses. If you don’t win this competition, it will be the biggest waste of time. 
And it is. The universe wins again.
When time is up and the costumed judges walk around, the prize ends up going to another couple; your brows furrow alongside Seokjin’s when they unveil their two-storied monument, the halved pieces creating a skinnier, taller tower. Your blood roars as the two women jump in joy.
Nothing is going right for you. The road in front of you is only going to be full of bumps and roadblocks and shitty gingerbread houses for the rest of your life. Sighing, you throw your napkin down and plop into your chair. A loser’s chair. 
You don’t respond to the soft voice next to you, instead shifting your foot on the floor.
“Ours deserved it,” Jin proclaims as he roams his proud gaze over your perfectly iced house, a mix of fruity and chocolate candy dotting its roof and walls. “I said unique is the deciding factor; they cheated!” 
“Yeah, well, it’s already over.” 
“Come on. The prize wasn’t that big a deal anyways,” your partner shrugs, which ignites something in you. 
“Wasn’t that big a deal? I don’t know what mansion you arrived from, but five hundred dollars is huge. And in case you haven’t noticed, my life hasn’t exactly been great since you arrived. All I wanted was to have a good time when I planned this trip, but now all it’s being is a huge waste of time and money. So yeah, it kinda was a big deal.” 
In the wake of your mini-tirade, the words settle and weigh down Jin’s broad shoulders. “That was stupid of me,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make it fun.” 
Your next words are ice, sliding out of your mouth like glaciers, “I can’t afford to have any fun.” 
You shove your chair out with a harsh scrape and leave, not caring about pushing it back under the table. 
Are you being too much? Too brash? Maybe. But your wounds are still pretty fresh from the breakup, and Jin has been way too considerate for your liking. You can’t even think straight when Mr. Intruder is being so nice that you can’t really fight him on anything else other than a flippant comment. You need to keep him at a distance, preferably a very far distance.
Who just helps out a stranger this much? Who just waltzes into someone else’s life and takes on their burdens like it’s nothing? It’s weird and leaves you with a cocktail of emotions that you both want to chug and refuse. 
With this thought, you decide to keep your walls up. He’s nice, but you can’t let your guard down. 
Just like your ex, all people are going to do is derail your plans in the end. Maybe it’s better if you stay on your own for now and plan out the rest of your life a different way—a way that sees you walking down a path alone.
With just one look over your shoulder, your chest unexpectedly tightens at the way Jin stares at the house you both built, a lone finger scooting a colorful piece of candy under icing.
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After the gingerbread competition debacle, the whole rest of the day and the next one after consist of you holed up in your room, more recluse than ever. Curled up under your thin sheet and thick comforter, all you do is watch the constant snowfall outside, endlessly coming up with ways on how to move on. 
You legitimately don’t know where to go from here. The plan was to settle with your ex and then the next logical step was to create a family. Then maybe you would then allow yourself to relax. Maybe even explore what happiness feels like.
This trip was supposed to be your first taste of it, actually. 
Ever since you could remember, you had been purely focused on working and your career. There wasn’t any room for happiness—or “fun,” as your annoying roommate called it. Happiness, to you, existed in a successful life, to be further explored when you could retire and settle down. 
So when you saw your boyfriend being sneaky, you took that as a sign that a proposal was coming. 
You already knew that would be the first event in your life you would legitimately celebrate. Not your birthdays, not your career progressions—those were expected as much as the changing of seasons. But a proposal was momentous to you, so you started saving what you could for this vacation. 
And it took months until you could book it. You saved what you could, closed whatever deals came your way, budgeted even more strictly than before. And you planned it perfectly—as you always did—because that dinner that you were anticipating happened before the resort dates. 
The one factor you didn’t take into consideration was the change of occasion. 
And now, faced with the prospect that the one thing that you knew was going to get you to a place of content has vanished, happiness is the last thing on your mind, much less any feeling. Emotions have proven nonexistent now. They’re worthless. 
You blankly stare at the white expanse outside your window, knowing why the temperature in your chest matches the frigid weather around your cabin. 
You don’t even acknowledge the random knocks at your door, or the various apologies that push their way through the wood. Talks of events that are happening around the resort, activity options that Jin proclaims he’s going to go out to do—none of them garner a reply from your dried lips. Hasn’t he gotten the message by now? Why is he still attempting to help you? 
All you can do is wordlessly yell at him to stop trying. 
The night of your full day of moping, you slowly open your door to venture out for a glass of water. 
So it’s a shock to see a tray of food on the ground, complete with roasted vegetables and a hearty serving of stew.
Did Jin go to the local market for this stuff? You remember passing a small marketplace on the way to the lodge; it’s nowhere close. But also, do you even deserve what’s being offered? You know the food is completely homemade, and if you remember correctly, the last interaction you had with Jin wasn’t pleasant.
Taking it from the ground anyway, you retreat back to your room and gingerly place it on the tiny table situated by your window. 
The food is impeccable. 
And you cry.
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While the third day was void of any activities, the fourth is chock full, starting with various hiking trails and ending with a couple’s spa treatment. 
You briefly remember browsing the website and noticing that it boasted its own spa on the lower levels of the mountainside resort. You thought it would be a nice place to settle down after a long day, but after the tense, mostly silent atmosphere of the hikes with Jin, you need it now more than ever. 
That morning, it was a stilted conversation as you relayed the day’s outline to your roommate, who only nodded along. He looked tired for once, even more than the first night when he begged you to let him stay. Not one to pry, you simply got everything ready and waited for him before leaving. 
The hikes were mostly self-guided tours since the trails weren’t that treacherous. There were some slippery surfaces and some cascading, makeshift steps from time to time, but nothing major. 
At least, that’s what you thought until you slipped on soft ground. Landing in a pair of strong arms instead of on your bad hip, your heart almost leapt out of your chest and tumbled the rest of the way down before you collected yourself. 
“Thanks,” you muttered. 
“You’re welcome,” Jin whispered back. “I got you.” 
It made you feel uncomfortable. Not because of him, but because of your sudden slush of emotions. Shrugging him off, you wiped nothing off your clothes. “I got it from here,” you proclaimed, putting up a very stupid front. 
After that, you were more careful and deliberate in your steps, walking the trail with the sole purpose of finishing. Business deal. It’s just something you have to do so you don’t have to pay for it even more.
You couldn’t wait to get it over with. Your ex would have been delighted on the trails dotted with Christmas light displays and ice sculptures, not unlike the way Jin ambled and admired the scenery behind. He enjoyed nature walks. 
This trip had been a terrible decision.
It was after the third time you stopped to wait for your roommate that you finally, truly watched him. You observed the way he would scrunch his nose to fix his glasses while looking at various trees and statues, the way he would whip out his phone and stare at it before taking pictures. He even took a photo of himself at one point, and you huffed in tiny amusement. 
You admitted it: he’s cute.
Hmm. The fact that you were out in nature alone with a guy didn’t even occur to you until then. You had quickly gotten accustomed to this one person to the point where you were just waiting for him to catch up instead of checking over your shoulder every five paces. 
Despite his look of exhaustion that morning, Jin seemed content then. It seemed that, even left to venture on his own, he was managing to have fun. He even shot a smile your way when he realized that you were waiting for him. 
You scowled and turned around to keep going. 
But you thought about many other things after that: how he keeps trying for you; how he keeps staying by your side; how your caustic nature hasn’t shooed him off. He didn’t think of this vacation as a business deal at all, and he was the one who made the proposition. Jin had simply been giving you everything, and you? What of your level of effort? 
Maybe you could try and meet him halfway. Try to have a little bit of fun, too.
When you finally get back to the cabin after a quiet shuttle ride to the resort, you enter your temporary home with a sigh. 
“What else do we have to do,” Jin asks behind you as he lightly moves you to get into the kitchen. He sounds much less chipper than he had been when asking about the gingerbread competition, and you can’t say you like this version of him. Maybe you were incorrect in your assumption that he didn’t think of it as a mere deal. 
Checking your phone, you wince. “Oh… We could just cancel this one.” 
“What is it?”
“Couples spa.” 
“Oh, damn. Why cancel? That sounds great.” 
“It’s… for couples…” 
“And? I could use a pampering.” 
Staring at him and thinking he just might not be getting it, you reiterate, warily, “It’s a couples massage…” 
“What’s so scary about a massage?” 
You run through the amenities offered that you remembered from the website. It won’t be some ordinary spa retreat. There are massages for couples, but they’re in the same room. Private saunas. Special baths. “For someone that says they’re not a perv, you’re sure as hell a perv…” 
Jin outright waves you and your point off, no longer offended by your insults. “Please! I haven’t gotten a massage in so long. My shoulders are killing me and being scared to death the first night didn’t help.” 
You lift your chin to avoid his knowing stare, already berating yourself for choosing to meet him halfway. You will try. Just try. “Fine.” Mentally preparing yourself, you think to wear the camisole you have stashed in your suitcase. “But this one you’re paying me for.” 
“How does it feel to get coal in your stocking every year?” 
“Ha ha.” 
Just like you suspected, your appointment consists of a couples massage and sauna, both of which throw you into the same space. It doesn’t take long for you two to be ushered into changing rooms and wrapped in soft resort robes. 
And just like the last time, you’re appointed as The Kims and get stared at lovingly by all the staff. 
Begrudgingly, you know that everyone is just ogling your fake boyfriend. Not that you can blame them. 
Jin decided to forego the glasses before heading out of the cabin earlier, and you hated how you stuttered mid-step when you saw him without them, his dark bangs swept to the sides. If only you had met him under different circumstances. Maybe you would have… 
“This way, please,” one of the staff workers leads with his arms. When you enter the room you’re assigned, the sight that greets you has your jaw dropping in an instant.
There are two massage tables laid out in the center of the room, surrounded by small tables topped with candles and pine cones. But the decor isn’t what draws your attention—the wide window overlooking the crystal lake below the resort is what clenches your heart. 
You remembered why you booked this particular event—and room—now: your ex loved lakes. It was one of his dreams to be able to enjoy himself on a lakeside, book in his hand and the wind in his hair. 
You shared that same dream. At least, you thought you did. It certainly seemed nice, even though you don’t exactly know how to relax. Work, work, work, and more work are what you know. But it would have been nice to be able to experience that with him. 
That’s why you splurged on the massage room that boasted the view. You were waiting months to see his face when—
“Sweetheart,” Jin whispers, his voice a bit raspy. 
You swiftly turn to regard him before noticing that the therapists are waiting for you by the tables. “Oh, sorry,” you apologize to their smiles, bowing slightly. “The view’s really nice.” 
It’s the woman that chirps first, “No worries! We’re used to it. It’s really gorgeous, isn’t it?” 
You nod, embarrassed by your gawking but still nostalgic from the scenery. Beside you, Jin asks the staff a question that you can’t quite hear. 
“Of course! Take your time. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” 
You don’t realize anything happens until you hear the door close behind you, and you wonder where the staff went. Jin seems to know what’s happening, his lazy strides to the light of the window catching your attention. 
Padding after him, you join him in drinking in the lake, the coniferous trees dotting its shores, the white-capped mountains a safe barrier all around. It’s much clearer and bluer than the pictures. Ethereal. You think it’s magical, like the environment was plucked from a heavenly body and gifted to your home planet thousands of years ago. 
“This was supposed to be a surprise,” you suddenly blurt, validating why you always think about your words before uttering them. Damn, you didn’t plan on divulging something so personal. Just how much did you just give away? You’re desperately hoping that Jin didn’t hear you. 
But judging by the way his head turns, you know it’s too late to take anything back. 
So you charge forward, your own attempt to reconcile with his endless help. “I… Umm.” 
The task is much harder than you thought it would be. You don’t know what to say. And when you usually don’t know what to say, you don’t say anything. 
But Jin deserves something, so you keep trying. 
Fiddling with the robe in front of your chest seems to distract you and give you courage. Sighing deeply, you take the plunge. “He liked lakes.” 
“Ah. Do you like lakes?” 
It’s not the question you were expecting, so you knit your brows, taking in the smell of pine immersing the room. “Maybe? I don’t know for sure. But this one is nice.” 
“It is. It looks like one of those blue ice pops when it’s frozen.” 
“Aren’t all ice pops frozen?” 
“Not when they’re just liquid! You have to throw them in the freezer for them to turn into popsicles. It makes you feel less guilty for giving kids straight sugar.” 
You chuckle, letting the lake and the man beside you see how your face looks when you smile. “I don’t remember those at all,” you reveal. “I don’t recall much about my childhood, honestly. I feel like I’ve been going nonstop ever since I could remember.” 
“You say it like that’s a bad thing.” 
“Isn’t it? I didn’t remember anything about the hiking we did today other than waiting for you.” 
“What! That was one of the nicest trails I’ve been on. You missed out, Miss Business.” 
You lightly nudge his side, finding a bit of peace in his crinkled eyes. “I’m trying to be serious here! I don’t usually talk about these things.” 
“I know.” Jin’s look settles into something tender, features softening and embracing your heart before you could utter another word. “But you can with me. We won’t see each other after this week, right? Think of it as a temporary counseling measure.” 
Why did a bit of cold seep into your chest? 
“Who even are you?” 
He just smiles. “Nobody.” 
A knock at the door disrupts your retort. When the therapist peeks his head in, he lets you both know to strip down to your comfort level and they’ll be back inside in a couple minutes. 
Thank goodness you put on your camisole. This is what you were dreading before. Rushing to the bed closer to the window, you silently call dibs before ordering, “Go to your table and undress first.” 
Without argument, Jin strides to his massage station before musing, “You must be a supervisor. Or a CEO.” 
You scowl at him from across the tables, refusing to tell him he’s not far off. “And why do you think that?” 
The man simply smirks down at his sheets while undoing and peeling off his robe. “You’re just so bossy.”
Before you can whip your head away, you catch the way his veins protrude and run down his neck. His collarbones and shoulders are just as perfect, but you regretfully did not catch anything below them.
You hear the rustling of his sheets and hope to the heavens that he covered himself—or do you secretly wish differently? 
When you don’t hear anything else, you sneak a peek over your shoulder and see him facedown on his table, a thin sheet thankfully shielding you from further suffering. 
Even though the outline and curves of his body are enough to make you bite your lip. 
“Hurry up, Mrs. Claus, they’re coming in soon.” 
Scrambling because Jin is right, you tear open your robe and hastily get onto your table. The therapists are just going to have to deal with your camisole and underwear because you are not going to risk your roommate seeing you naked a second time. 
Even if you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. It’s quite peculiar. 
The massage goes by quicker than you want it to, your exhausted muscles reveling in the kneads and rolls. Soft music floats over your tables and essential oils comfort your mind while you’re being pampered, so when you have to shift onto your back, your contented look at Jin is genuine—his is, too. 
After you’re done, the sauna follow-up is a mostly silent affair again, and you’re not sure if it’s the steam or the way that Jin looks under a tight shirt, but you are much too hot. Holy hell, he’s cut. 
Focus. You need to think of other things that are not your very attractive roommate. 
Talking to Jin rendered you contemplative. You feel like you spoke too much while being entranced by the crystal clear lake, so you dial things back a bit to keep your physical and mental distance. 
Because even though Jin is nice and offered to be a springboard for your problems, you still feel like you don’t deserve something like that. You don’t even deserve him going with you to do all of these things so you don’t have to pay the cancellation fees. 
This trip was supposed to be a reward for a proposal. A proposal that never happened. What started out as things you planned with purpose has turned into a scramble to get them over with. 
You were truthful in saying that you don’t remember the hikes. You barely remember anything you did. Because these are business deals. You have to remind yourself of that, or else you’ll pitch yourself into darkness again. You can’t enjoy them because you’re not supposed to.
Just deals. Jin goes with you to the events and you let him stay in the cabin. That’s it.  
But as you get ready for bed that night, you hear your roommate belting the notes of an overplayed Christmas song, and you figure that the arrangement isn’t so bad. 
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Morning taps your shoulder, but you don’t need to be beckoned awake. 
Staring at the aged ceiling of your room, you have already made a choice—it is just leaving the familiarity of your temporary bed that gives you pause. 
But you leave and start your day anyway because this gesture is something you have never, ever done before. Be it the holiday spirit, or the fact that you’re feeling generous, your decision is uncharacteristic and you need to carry it out before you take it back.
After freshening up, you throw on the robe from your closet and pad to the kitchen. Outside the sliding door of the living room, nothing greets you but the tiniest shade of dawn, so you know that your roommate is still sound asleep. 
Perfect. Because you do not need him to witness what’s about to happen. 
Unwittingly biting a nail, you take stock of everything in the kitchen, opening cupboards and scanning inside the fridge. 
You sigh. It seems that Jin had stocked your kitchen with various foodstuffs, and you note that most of them are agreeable. He had to have ventured to the local market to buy everything while you were cooped up in misery days ago. The thought of him even doing so gets your heart semi-beating again. 
If only you had been there to help. That trip might have been a bit, dare you say it, fun. 
Shaking your head, you get past the wallowing and retrieve some things from the fridge. Next stop for you is some seasonings in a cabinet. When you gather everything you need, you fire up the stove and launch a plea into the soft morning sky. 
Your plea did not reach whomever it was supposed to, its arch much too short and causing a quick descent back to Earth.
“Damn it, no! Stay in the pan…” 
Nothing is seeming to go right. You are pretty sure you botched the food, including something that you know would take skill to screw up. The smells assaulting your nostrils are a great indication of your level of success. 
Huffing and puffing, you attempt to juggle multiple tasks and realize with dread that you may have to throw all of your results away. 
Why can’t you do something so simple? There are even directions laughing at you from inside your phone screen on the island! Scowling at them while trying to read the next steps, you bite your lip and bring yourself back to the stovetop. Flipping off the burners, you start the trepidatious task of plating. 
Jin made everything look so easy a few days ago. Sure, it was eggs and toast, but the guy still made it seem like you had front row seats to a cooking show. As you finish sliding everything onto dishes and attempting to make them look decent, you inspect your work with mushed lips.
“What are you doing?” 
The ceiling is what stops you from propelling out of the cabin when you react. You’re lucky that all the food is already mingling on their plates, though sad and a bit pathetic. His timing is more decent than he is. “Geez, Jin, you scared the shit out of me.” 
The look on his face is telling you to remember the unspoken rule he mentioned the other day, and you puff a tendril of hair away from your eyes. 
“My senses told me something was burning and to leave the cabin.” 
“Are they also detecting a pan being hurled at your face?”
Barefaced and cheerful, the man just laughs and takes a seat at one of the island stools. “I just haven’t seen you since we came back from the spa. I figured you escaped from your window or something.” 
“Oh.” You forgot how you shut yourself in your room after opening up to him at the spa. It felt necessary at the time. You didn’t want to risk revealing anything else about your life, and you wanted to keep the week a business deal. That’s partly what prompted this foray in the kitchen in the first place. It’s your way of compromise. “Sorry I didn’t say anything, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you. I don’t really want to talk about it, though.” 
“You don’t have to.” You hear a shift of clothes. “As long as you don’t say I was so ugly you wanted to avoid me, I’m fine.” 
“You’re so weird,” you comment, using this as your cue to serve the breakfast you concocted. “But never mind that. Here.” 
A sudden wave of uncertainty crashes into your brain as you regard the full servings.
You know it’s going to be awful. His comments—or lack thereof—are most likely going to decimate you. But this is supposed to be a wordless thanks for everything Jin has done, so you suck it up and grab the plates, placing them on the island for his viewing. 
His eyes are unblinking as he stares. Moments pass, and you don’t particularly like how antsy you are to receive his opinion. Does it really matter that much to you? Why are you dreading a terrible review?
“I’m impressed.”
And why does your heart inflate like a balloon? 
“At… how epically I failed?” You put a tired hand on your forehead to rub your temples. Jin is obviously saying how impressed he is that you managed to mess breakfast up. “You don’t have to eat it, it’s fine. I know I’m not a chef but I tried, so…”
“What? No!” The man’s eyes crease as his smile brightens the kitchen. “I will admit that it’s not perfect, but this is eggs benedict. Did you think it was going to be easy?”
“I don’t know! I just looked up recipes and that one seemed universally liked!” Flustered, you fold your robed arms and face the table instead, omitting the fact that you realized how screwed you were halfway through the instructions.
The tinkering of utensils reaches your ears, and you shift your gaze to watch Jin take a bite of your food. Judging from the way his brows bend upward, he may actually be enjoying it. But your mind is hard set on the possibility that you fucked up, so you squash anything positive. 
Uncrossing your arms, you slowly turn to face him fully. The way he’s smiling at you is making you want to both run and stand still, rendering you without any reply at all. 
“Did you really do this just for me?” 
“Yeah, well,” you puff, suddenly uncomfortable and twisting the atmosphere back to your liking. “Don’t expect this again. I just figured you’ve done a lot, so I wanted you to take a break for a bit.” 
Jin takes another bite, but while he chews, his eyes seem to want to converse with you. Staring more than necessary, you just shrug your anxiousness away and busy yourself with cleaning the pots and pans.
While you’re dumping them in the sink, you push forward with your second offering, “There’s something else.” 
You gulp, knowing that he would ask and still not being prepared for the response. “Yes,” you begin warily. “About the schedule today.” 
“Out with it,” Jin cuts in, cheeks inflating as if to smother the laugh threatening to release. “What are you scared of doing with me?” 
How is this man so perceptive? Have you just been living and working with people who just follow orders and don’t think too much about things? Or is this person just different? Gripping the counter in front of you, your voice comes out a bit softer than you intend when you finally divulge, “Hot springs.” 
Jin stops his chewing, much too invested in the conversation now. It puts you right in the spotlight and you almost don’t utter another word.
But you do anyway because this is just something that needs to be done. You keep the situation simple because that is what you understand. Equivalent exchange. Business deals. “If you would… If it would be in your best interest to accompany me,” you offer, finally picking up your fork to try your food, “Then I would be saved from paying those fees.” 
His laugh is more puffy because his mouth is still half full. “Why are you talking as if I have a choice? Business deal, remember?” 
“I remember.” Pointing your bite toward Jin’s face as to protect your pride, you add, “But I know hot springs aren’t for everyone.” 
He hums, dumping his utensils onto his plate before getting up to clean them. “I’m not everyone,” he reminds you as he rounds the island, smug. “I still think I’m getting the short end of the stick since I paid for this place, too, though.” 
You huff before answering, “You are not everyone. I agree.” Biting into your lukewarm food, you warily chew and decide it’s not as bad as you thought. “No, but you’re right. I’ll pay you for the events. Your half, anyway. It’s still less than the cancellation fees. Why do they have such high rates anywa—” 
Your words cut off when you feel a small, tiny crunch in your bites. 
Glancing down at your meal for the culprit, you finally see that the eggs you attempted to poach somehow had stray shell bits on them. 
Did Jin’s magically not have any? He would’ve definitely used that as a chance to tease you. Right? Or… 
When you look up, your roommate is already heading back to the stairs. “I’ll go with you,” he agrees, features soft as he’s grabbing the banister. “And don’t worry about it. You don’t need to pay me anything.” 
Your eyes travel back down to your plate. 
And your mood rises to the sky.
Your mood flowed into the rest of the day, from the time the pair of you flipped on a cheesy holiday movie, roamed around the resort to check out the various light displays, up to the time when you got ready to go to the hot springs. 
In your whirlwind of a week, you completely forgot that you had pre-packed a certain swimsuit for the springs since it was supposed to be a special occasion. It revealed a lot more than you were used to. 
You didn’t have anything else to wear. 
You could’ve possibly thrown on a t-shirt, or scrapped the swimsuit altogether and worn a plain camisole like before… 
So as you’re staring at your reflection in the resort locker room mirrors, you’re wondering why you chose not to do either of those things. 
Is it the way you’re finally cozying up to Mr. Intruder? Or is it the way you’re finding him a tad bit attractive and you can tell that he feels somewhat the same? 
Biting your lip, you grab your towel and make your way outside to the steps leading down to the springs. It’s absolutely freezing, causing curses and orders for Jin to hurry the hell up to wisp out of your lips. 
The voice behind you pushes you forward. “What the hell,” you seethe, teeth knocking each other from the cold. “Don’t scare me like that!” 
“Sorry. You just look…” Jin’s eyes are shameless in the way they travel over your form. What is he going to say? Why are you more attentive than you’ve ever been? “You look cold.”
Your sandal clunking him on the head would have been a great idea had you not been frozen and embarrassed on the spot. “Ass! I’m cold because you took so long!” 
Jin’s laugh taunts you all the way down the stone steps, but you have to stay in front of him because you definitely thought he was going to say something else. And you cannot keep staring at the way his white shirt hugs his body. That shirt again? You can see the outline of everything!
After settling into the crystal blue pools beckoning you for weeks, you sigh in content, briefly forgetting why you booked them in the first place. All you’re preoccupied with is the man a few arms’ lengths away from you enjoying himself and getting his entire head wet. 
As much as you loved the glasses he wore, you find this version of him—soaking locks, eyes alight, content smile on his face—is the one you’ll remember for a long time. Far after this trip is over and you’re both back to living your separate lives. The slight pang in your heart is ignored. 
When he moves a bit closer, splishing the water around your arms, you allow yourself to entertain the idea that you are Missus Kim. Not the one that was supposed to happen, but the one married to the goofball waving his arms in steam wafting from the springs. 
It’s brief and fleeting, but it does make you feel warm. Inside and out. 
And when Jin reaches under the water to pull you closer to his crescent eyes, you allow yourself to let go—just for this moment. Maybe your guard doesn’t have to be up all the time around him. It’s thrilling and strange and wonderful. Missus Kim. The future Missus Kim will be a very, very lucky one indeed. 
“Awhh, you’re both so cute!” 
Both of you whip your heads sideways. Across the spring, a couple is watching, both of them smiling wide. You realize with a start that it’s the same couple that took the gingerbread competition prize from your iced fingers. 
While you’re clamming up, Jin naturally takes the lead. “We get that a lot. Thank you.” 
The taller woman is silent, but the shorter one with pretty hair questions, “Where are you both from?”  
“Ah, all over,” your roommate says, his palms still encircling yours under the water. “We don’t really stay in one place for too long.” 
You can’t do anything but stare at his jawline, his nonchalant and effortless conversation saving your sudden timidness. When did you get so shy? Aren’t you supposed to have a commanding, intimidating presence? And how does Jin think “all over” is a suitable answer? 
The shorter one pays no mind. “Oh, that’s so cool! What are you both here for? We just got engaged so this is our celebration trip.” While she reveals this, the taller woman nudges her arm, signaling for the preppy woman to not bother too much. 
Your fingers tense around Jin’s at the last sentence, but he takes one look at you before flashing the couple a smile. “It’s ours, too! I asked her to marry me. Naturally, she said Yes.”
The women laugh outright but you’re far from being humored.    
What the hell is he doing? Why did he have to say that? 
Your walls are rebuilding so fast that they’re not even being constructed straight. Gingerbread houses have sturdier frames than your heart does at this moment and you feel suffocated. This hurts. Everything hurts. Your hands are squeezing so hard around his, and finally, he regards you with a hint of concern. 
A sigh precedes an airy, “What a beautiful couple.” 
“Yeah.” Jin gives a toothless smile their way before slowly staring at you, the droplets falling from his bangs and the tender look in his eyes scaring the living Christmas lights out of you. “I’m pretty lucky.” 
You can’t do this. Leave. You have to leave. 
You’re so choked up with emotions at this point that you have to rely on the steam. Let it veil your expression and swallow you whole. Your smile is manufactured as the couple hums in agreement, for when they glide away to a farther part of the spring, you immediately turn and power your way to the edge of the pool. 
Jin calls your name with worry behind you, but you’re bent on getting the hell away from him. You let your guard down. It hurts. 
Why did he have to say that? Of all things? Why did he have to be so goddamned nice and cruel at the same time? 
As your towel-wrapped form is scampering up the wet steps, you feel a desperate hand clutch yours. “Wait! What’s wrong?” 
Spinning, you reveal your pink-rimmed eyes as you yank your increasingly cold fingers away. “Stay away from me!” 
Jin’s staring in shock. You take in the hurt swirling throughout his face, but your wound is so full of the salt he filled it with that you burst. 
You tell him everything: why you wanted to cancel the activities, why you planned the vacation in the first place, why you just wanted to be alone. You rip out your heart and tell him why it’s so beaten and dark, showing him that some of the wounds are from his own hands. 
“So you saying that back there? About being engaged?” You let out an empty, heartless laugh. “Thanks, asshole! Way to rub it in.” 
Eyes glossed, Jin starts to say something, but you slice through. 
“Don’t apologize. I don’t need apologies, or sympathy, or whatever else you think I need.”
It’s cold outside—frigid. But your words are harsher, grittier, icier. “You thought you were helping but you just made everything worse! Congratulations! Grow the fuck up and learn what giving someone space actually means.” 
The last thing you see before you turn on your heel is the look of a man that’s completely and utterly sorry. 
And you want nothing more than for that man to ignore your screams and hold you. 
Holy shit, you’re terrible. He didn’t deserve that. You want to see his smile and you want to lose yourself in those starry eyes. Stars you wiped out with your anger and hurt. 
Your feet hit the top level and you storm into the locker room, changing quickly and rushing back to your cabin.
He isn’t lucky. You’re the lucky one. The lucky one that sure as hell didn’t deserve everything he did for you this entire trip.
A trip that’s well over and done with now, business deals or not. 
There’s no turning back.
You feel envious towards the happy couples dotting the resort, enjoying themselves and not thinking about broken hearts. 
You feel envious towards Jin, being able to live his life to the fullest and show his emotions and never overthinking his actions.
And you feel envious towards the future Missus Kim, already holding a knife to their throat and demanding that they never cut him down the way you just did. 
What was Jin’s second request? 
The stupid one you were supposed to grant? 
“Don’t hurt me.” 
You’re a goddamned fool. 
Night falls in front of your eyes as you stay curled in your bed, stomach gurgling and throat burning, sore. 
You barely remember showering when you got back to the cabin, shutting yourself inside your room as a flimsy shield from the world. From Jin. Though you’d say it’s moreso to protect the world from you, taking your volatile state into account. 
Regret cakes your skin as you take residence under your covers and remorse coats the lining of your ribcage. If you didn’t deserve anything that’s transpired before, you certainly don’t now. 
You’re already calculating how much to pay Jin. You’ll pay him for everything he attended with you, with interest. Money for your troubles. He really did get the shortest end of the damn stick. 
You don’t know how many hours pass while you’re just lying there, but the hot springs and the amount of tears that rained onto your pillowcase render you parched. Water is a necessity at this point.
Gingerly stepping out of your room—bones creaking with lack of use—you make your way to the dark main area of the cabin. You’re almost to the end of the hallway when a sound reaches your ears. 
It’s not the sound of a movie, or a holiday tune on the radio, but something much more melancholic. Hushed. Mournful.
You whip your head towards the upstairs room. 
Something’s wrong.
Millions of curses and scenarios spill into your chest. What’s happening?  Is he okay? 
Without thinking or planning, you propel yourself forward and round the island, trying your hardest to adjust your sight to the dark. The stairs thump under your feet as you make your way up to him, the sounds mirroring the fast pace of your heart.  
When you reach the top of the steps, you peer into the bedroom and cut your heavy breaths short.
At the edge of his bed sits your roommate—your cheerful, optimistic, selfless roommate—with his head in his hands and sobbing into his shaking fingers. 
You’re too stunned to say anything. 
You legitimately think you’re dreaming. 
But when you manage to squeak out his name, Jin whips up his head and has your blood running cold with his response.
“Get out.”
You’re ready to take back every single thing you’ve said. Oh, god. Did you do this? You did this. “I’m so sorry, Seok--” 
“Did you hear me? Get out.” 
Your feet almost move, but you try one more time. “Wait, I need—” 
“What do you need now?” He shoots himself up from the bed, throwing the shirt he had lying on his shoulder into an open suitcase. Your eyes dart to it but you can’t question it because he’s railing into you, relentless, “You say I need to learn how to give space and yet here you are. Take your own damn advice and leave me alone.” 
“I don’t—” 
“You said I made everything worse, but how was I supposed to know? You didn’t say anything! And honestly? You haven’t said a lot of things this whole time, not even a please or thank you! I was just trying to help because I know exactly how you’re feeling. But you win. Deal’s off. Okay? Be happy that I’m now just as miserable as you are.” 
His barrage stuns you into silence, and you’re suddenly running back down the stairs, making a beeline for your room and shutting your door. With your back against the wood, your breath comes out in a whoosh and more tears travel the dried tracks on your cheeks. 
Fuck. You did this. Now you know why the universe is so incredibly disappointed in you. Why it’s so hellbent on sending turmoil your way. You went and upset the one person that was just trying to help you this entire time. Helping you because he...
What did he just say? What did he just admit to you? 
What did Jin mean by knowing exactly how you were feeling? 
There’s no way he’s in the same boat as you.
You try to think of any signs that you missed, cues that flew right above your stupid head. Eyes wide, a few instances come to mind. You remember the way he would space out, the way he kept staring at his phone on the trail, even the way he sat at the table on the very first day you met him. 
You’ve been so focused on yourself that you didn’t realize he was going through his own shit. You just saw this weird, selfless person that didn’t have a care in the world. 
Shutting your eyes in frustration, you forced yourself to finally read the bold print. It’s a couples resort. Why didn’t you pick up on this before? 
For a logical person, you’re quite the dumbass. 
Steeling every bone and muscle in your body to follow orders, you inhale a breath of courage before exiting your room. 
Because if he feels the exact same way that you do, you also know what he really wants. 
Jin wants you there more than anything, just like how you wanted him to barrel past your own wrath spewing at him in waves. 
And you’re correct. 
When you appear in his doorway again, he’s packing, clenching your heart with his planned escape. The conversation from the hot spring enters your mind then, the way Jin said he doesn’t stay in one place for too long. 
Is he running away all because you told him he needed to learn what space was? What a drama queen. That’s not sustainable behavior. Like you, he needs to face his problems and not go on the run at the smallest sign of resistance. 
Both of you are so similar for being so different. It brings you comfort that no amount of isolation and moping ever would. 
As he turns to you, eyes rimmed with agony, he tells you once again to leave. 
When you slowly walk inside and start taking things out of his suitcase, his grip on your arm is shaking. 
And as he’s pleading you softly—so, so softly—to get out of his room, you sit him down on his bed and uncharacteristically offer your hand, launching into tears when he brings you in for a tight hug instead. The snow that falls from the dark outside is no match for the hot tears the pair of you spill, your conjoined grief rolling down your tired, broken shoulders. 
You’re trying so hard to stay strong for him. Trying and trying and trying, just as he had fought through his own sadness for you. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, voice tight, “I didn’t know.” 
Jin holds you tight and just cries even more, and you feel your chest constrict to the point of legitimate pain. 
“Why did they do it? What did he offer that I couldn’t?” 
This wonderful, selfless man kneeling in your arms is the one that got his heart broken? He’s the one left standing in the cold while his love drifted away with another?
In a twisted way, you feel much better about being left, too. If it happened to him, then why couldn’t it have happened to you? But even stronger than that, you feel incredibly protective of this person you just met five days ago, the fantastic soul you almost chased out of your cabin with a vase and a temper. 
Who was the dumb fuck that left him? How did that person even think that an option? Gripping Jin’s shaking shoulders tighter, you do an even more uncharacteristic thing: nuzzling your face into his shoulder. 
You don’t know whether it works or not, but you certainly feel strangely… at home. How is that even possible? Did the holiday spirit nestle itself inside your barren soul and light a flame inside? How are you able to feel so warm with only a pair of arms around you?
“That person is an idiot and a half,” you finally murmur, your breath warming his neck and his cologne mingling with it. “They didn’t deserve you anyways. You’re… you’re incredible.”
There is definitely something wrong with you because compliments are not your thing, either. Maybe it was the way Jin had been nothing but attentive to your needs even though he had wants of his own, or the way he made it a mission to distract you from sadness when he himself needed it more than ever. 
Or maybe it’s the way your heart feels like it’s smushing itself against your chest, clawing out to hold hands with his. The bump, bump, bump behind your ribs is strong, much stronger than you had ever dealt with before. 
In the softest voice you’ve heard him use, Seokjin merely responds with, “Tell me more, please.”
It’s so inherently him to ask that you break into a chuckle, holding his limp form a bit tighter. “Where do I even start,” you muse, faking a noise of contemplation. “You’re thoughtful, for one. Not as smart as me, but still smart. And you’re an idiot, too, but a cool idiot…”
A laugh rolls down your back in soft puffs, cutting your string of backhanded compliments short. “I’m putting that on my dating profile.” 
“You have a dating app?”
“I’m serious, though,” you whisper, eyelashes tickling your cheeks as you lower your gaze to his smooth neck. You try your best to discreetly inhale his scent before sighing. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but… If you got broken up with, then it makes sense that I did, too.” 
Slowly, tenderly, Seokjin separates your bodies, eyes pinked and searching. “No,” he disagrees with a shake of his head, “Your situation is different.” 
“How so?” 
“Simple.” A hand comes up to your face, only to drop back down to his side after a brief pause. “They just couldn’t handle you.” 
“Ouch. Now I just sound like a bitch.” 
Jin’s brows convene, agreeing with him when he counters with a, “What? No.” As you glance downward, you can see his hands harden into fists. “It would take a certain type of person to handle you, that’s all.” 
Without prompt and before you could offer a rebuttal, he continues, “I think I’ve done a pretty good job so far.” 
It is you that sways back this time, shifting your weight. “Be serious,” you warned. 
“I am.” Seokjin peers straight into your eyes, shifting his between yours in search of something more. Is there something you want to say? “I’m just saying it’s possible. Then again, not a lot of people are like me, so good luck with that.”
“Now that I agree with,” you drone, chest caving just a bit but face remaining the same. “But I was blindsided by my breakup, so I don’t see myself dating anyone else anytime soon.” 
The ghost of a smile starts settling onto his features. “If you did,” he whispers, bringing up his hand and committing to placing it on your cheek this time. “What would you do if you dated me?” 
You grip his hand to remove it from your face, as if your feelings and skipped heartbeats will be felt if he keeps it on you. “That’s even more ridiculous than you being broken up with.” 
Seokjin shakes his head with a slightly bigger smile, flicking his bangs to the side and making you absolutely melt. “Stop that.” 
Instead of being cheeky and disobeying, he smiles even wider. You’re starting to feel your mood lift every time his mouth does. “Humor me this once. What would you do?”  
Talking in hushed voices in the dark isn’t how you saw yourself spending this vacation but, somehow, you have never felt more giddy. It’s a strange emotion that you’re feeling, like you’re on the cusp of discovering something brilliant. When you look at Seokjin, all you see are diamonds in his eyes as he waits for you to turn him down, like you’ve done all the times before. 
Maybe… Maybe you can be honest now. You can say what you really feel. Turning to regard the wall instead of facing him head-on, you give in. “Okay… since you’re so curious, if I hypothetically dated you…” 
“I… Well, I guess I would watch stupid movies with you.” 
“And… I would deal with your dumb jokes.” 
Jin leans in close, and his breath warms your face like a blanket covering from the chill. “And?” 
“And…” You finally turn to face him and gaze down at his lips. So full. So inviting. Your eyes slip into deeper slits, your voice lowering to convey how heavy your next sentence weighs. “I would make sure you never cried like that again.” 
The hand on your arm tightens a bit, and the palm on your face shakes. 
You didn’t mean to give away that much of your heart, but seeing the relief and comfort in Seokjin’s eyes makes you proud of your impulsiveness. There was no thought in your words and there didn’t need to be. No plans. No prompts. 
Just your true feelings reaching out to his. 
“Thank you,” is all he responds with, and your chest squeezes itself when he plants a kiss on your forehead before standing.
You’re left confused on the bed and wondering what Jin’s doing, but he lifts you to your feet and says he’ll be okay now. 
And when he leads you to his doorway and gives you a goodnight peck on the cheek, you’re already planning what to make for breakfast in the morning.
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You hear noises in the kitchen before you even wake up properly, and you smile at the fact that he could be making another delicious meal. You’ve loved everything he’s made. It’s a much better option than another failed attempt on your part. Punching your arms into your robe, you’re content as you open your door.
And your heart plummets to your feet, rolling next to the suitcase waiting by the front door. 
Oxygen seems to escape you as you stand there, unblinking and trying to process what’s happening. Isn’t it only Thursday? You both don’t have to leave until Saturday. 
You jump at the voice, shocked out of your stupor. “What’s going on?” 
“I didn’t think you’d be up already.” 
“I was going to make us breakfast…” You trail off when you see a splash of anguish on Jin’s face. 
“There’s still food in the fridge,” your roommate states, voice eerily plain. “Make sure to throw out any you don’t end up using.” 
“Wait, wait, pause.” Your hands come up to halt his body in front of you. “What are you doing?” 
Jin’s eyes are full of sorrow, betraying his slight smile. “I’m sorry I ruined your trip.” 
Ice runs through your veins. “What?” 
“You’re right. You needed the space and I didn’t let you have that. But you’ll at least have the last two days to yourself.” 
You’re sure your eyebrows create their own scratchy sweater with the way they knit together. Didn’t you both have a good conversation last night? Was that a fever dream? As you watch Jin putting on his shoes, something big lodges in your throat. “You’re going to leave?” 
“Ah, yeah.” Jin looks down at his feet. “I’m gonna go down to the concierge and let them know. I’ll make sure to pay for any other events you had planned, so you don’t have to do anything.”  
“Oh, also, the box on the table? Don’t open that until you get home.” 
“I hope…” A hand ruffles his hair before he whips his bangs, and you’ve grown so fond of his little actions that you feel a pang in your heart. “I hope you find happiness. I know you don’t think you deserve it, but you do.” 
Nothing is making any sense. Are you dreaming? Why do the hallway and front door look like they’re underwater?
Jin grabs his suitcase and rolls it to the exit, prompting you to make a decision. “Wait.” 
He turns, and you see a speck of something in his expression behind his glasses. His stupidly cute glasses.
“I…” What are you going to say? Is it appropriate for you to tell him to stay if he’s clearly set on leaving? Logical to tell him to keep you company when you literally told him you needed space? Why is your heart hammering against your chest? Why are your muscles aching to reach out and rip his suitcase from his hand? “I hope you find it, too.” 
Jin huffs a rueful laugh before smiling, not entirely genuine. “We will. One day.” 
When he shuts the door, you feel like a momentous event just slipped through the cracks of your history. Like you sped past a turning point of your life without checking the directions first. 
But you shake it off. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to be alone and do nothing. Just mope and feel sorry for yourself and come to terms with the fact that you’re just going to live alone. The arrangement you had was a business deal, so with the cancelled events went his departure. 
Walking down the hallway, it feels a lot emptier. The kitchen feels a lot smaller. Did Jin’s presence somehow magnify everything? 
As your eyes roam across the tiled floors, you remember the way they were swept clean for you; as your gaze travels across the island, you recall the way Jin ate your food without any complaints. 
And as you lift your head to regard the room upstairs, you remember how incredibly hurt he sounded. You had never felt more protective over someone in your life. You couldn’t fathom how someone could hurt the man that gave you everything he had. 
There’s one other thing that confuses you.
You’ve never missed someone this much. 
Not anyone that you’ve worked with, not anyone you’ve grown up with, not even your ex that you thought was going to propose to you. 
The way you feel now is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and it scares you just as much as it claws into your heart and makes it bleed from the inside. Sorrow consumes your soul and pain seeps into the marrow of your bones. The walls you erected once before resemble ruins of ancient days.
You fucked up. 
You’ve been given this impossible chance and turned it down in multiple ways. 
But it was unexpected. You have no clue how to deal with that. That’s why you decided to let him go. He’s much, much too good for you anyways. Now that you made that bed, you’re going to lay in it and shed your tears into every square inch of those sheets.
You’re walking past the table when you finally see the box Jin talked about earlier. It’s a flat one, wrapped and topped with a small bow. Intrigued, you gingerly pick it up to inspect the wrapping. There’s nothing on it, which makes you even more curious. What could it possibly be?
He told you not to open it until you got home, but you found yourself unwrapping it on autopilot, wanting to hold onto anything that he left behind. What the hell did he get for you? You didn’t say you wanted anything… 
You can only stare, and stare, and stare some more. 
Deep crimson threads are neatly laid in thin white tissue paper, and the flecks of gold cause a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest and spiral to the rest of your body. 
It’s the scarf you saw in the window the day of the competition. 
How did Jin even know? 
When did he even buy it? 
Your hands slip underneath the material, shaking when you find out it’s incredibly high quality. It couldn’t have been cheap. There’s no way it was less than overpriced. 
And yet again, Jin had given you something without asking for anything in return. 
But this time, you don’t even get the chance to reciprocate because he’s now out of your life forever. 
As hot tears land on the thick material lying in your hands, you realize. 
You don’t want that. 
You’re a chaotic ball of action as you scramble to the front. The scarf hangs haphazard around your neck, and your boots barely make it on your feet before you’re bursting through the door. The freezing cold penetrates your pajamas on contact, but you don’t care. You can’t care. All you care about is finding him before it’s too late. You don’t have his number, you don’t know where he works, you don’t even know where he’s from. All that time, he was focused on you and never burdened you with anything about himself. 
Whipping your head both ways, you don’t see his broad back on the sidewalks around your cabin.
Fuck! No no no. He can’t have gotten far. How long did you give him? Time is only a construct to you but a chill settles in your bones when you know you’ve given him enough of a head start. 
Your feet are clunky as you race down to the main lodge. It’s not far from your cabin, which makes you run even harder because there’s a good chance Jin is already checked out and gone by now. 
You’re desperate and running, throat burning cold with the breaths you’re taking on the run.
When you burst into the front doors of the lodge, you swivel your head around to see if he’s at the concierge. There’s some people talking to the clerks and some off to the sides staring at your frazzled look, but no Jin. Not your Jin.
You exit the place with a sharp grunt and scamper to the side of the lodge, the side where the shuttles run. On the way, people in much warmer clothes and skinny pines decked in lights blur on either side of you, all of them shooting strange looks your way. But you can suddenly be running naked for all you care. You just need to find him. 
He has to be there. He has to. If you miss him here, there’s no way you’d catch up to him now. 
When you round the corner and graze your bruise on a bush, you cry out but bloom in relief. 
Jin’s there.
Almost stepping foot on the shuttle. 
Your breaths are ragged and your hair is more appropriate for Halloween instead of winter holidays and the cold is permanently attached to your skin, but you ignore all of that. You ignore everything else.
Because he heard you.
You watch as he turns his head, his body frozen at the foot of the bus doors. You’re limping forward but your heart sprints ahead when Seokjin’s walking fast toward you, face scrunched in concern. 
He starts to ask what’s wrong—because of course he would—but you cut him off with the most impulsive, most truthful feelings you have boiling inside of you. “Idiot! Let me say something.” 
Seokjin just stands there, baffled, just watching as you try to breathe through the pain you feel. 
But despite your bold actions up until this point, you find yourself at a loss. Breathing heavy with exhaustion and adrenaline, you attempt, “Actually, I… I don’t… I don’t really know what to say. I didn’t think I’d get this far.” You swallow with a wince, one eye closed in pain. “But you... You’re so... You’re so rude! So mean! How could you just leave? After what happened last night? That’s no real way to deal with our problems—your problems. Coward! Oh my god, what am I saying? Fuck! What I’m trying to say is...” 
You’re floundering. You’re fumbling. 
“Space! Yes. Space is good. We need it! But… You can’t just leave without talking through stuff. That’s not sustainable! Yeah, I wasn’t the best at communicating but what the fuck are you doing? One more day would be okay. Don’t be such a bitch and just leave like that. I...” 
Seokjin’s just standing there, eyes darting to the scarf around your neck, awestruck. But you know it won’t last long. He’s going to leave. You’ve thoroughly insulted him. He’s going to tell you to fuck off and that he’s going to miss his shuttle and you’re going to lose him forever. Say something! Say anything! 
“Please come back home.” 
What? Why did you say that? Of all the things you could have said, that is the most delusional and weird. You fucked up. It’s over. 
“Shit! I didn’t mean, like, home, but like the cabi—” 
Before you can finish undoing your mistake, all you feel is a hand on your chin before Seokjin slips his mask down to kiss you. 
Your eyes shut, but you’ve never seen so much color in your life. Warmth washes over your bones and frees them from the chill, and your shivers are solely the product of his plush lips on yours. 
The kiss is much shorter than you want it to be, but when you open your eyes, you absolutely melt at the way he’s looking at you. 
“You’re so lame,” Seokjin insults through the warmest smile you’ve ever seen. “But you’re right. I will. Let’s go home.” 
The heavy front door shuts behind Seokjin, and you walk a few paces until you’re standing next to your bedroom, the hallway extending on your other side. Not knowing that you would get this far, you’re suddenly at a loss for words, just reveling in the fact that he’s back. You’re breathing easier. It feels less cramped. 
But as you stare at Jin, who is also just as quiet, you feel a shift in the atmosphere. It seems to fizzle and crack around you, and your bones are thrumming with anticipation. Is it the adrenaline pulsing through your veins? Or is it the look he has in his eyes? All you know for sure is that something is bubbling in your core and you don’t exactly know what to do with it.
“Now I said we should talk,” you start to say, but Seokjin walks with purpose towards you, the look on his face the new one you’ll remember for the rest of your life. 
“But I’m not done yelling at you,” you stutter out, backing up as Jin slips off his mask, revealing a lopsided smile that grows and grows. “Who buys someone a gift and doesn’t even leave his number?” 
He’s still making his way over without a word, and when you feel your back hit the hallway wall, your chest rises with a breath. “It’s not like I missed you or anything,” you whisper, goosebumps jumping from your skin at the palm placed on the wall above your head. “We just need to deal with our... Problems… Like adults.” 
Seokjin’s face is so close, tilted, eyes lidded. Breath ceased, you’re on the brink of another momentous event, and every fibre of your being is standing on high alert. Nothing exists except for the two of you, a whole temporary home to yourselves and yet mere centimeters apart. 
As he speaks, you break. 
“So damn bossy.” 
Your retort dies in his hot mouth, your freezing form instantly pressed into the wall at the same time your arms sling around his neck. Your shoulder blades dig straight through your robe and into the wooden planks, but you barely register the pain as you rake your hands through his hair. His soft, dark locks that you’ve been wanting to caress for days. 
This kiss is much deeper and longer than the one outside, weakening your knees until they threaten to give out. You feel a strong hand grip your hip as the palm next to your head becomes an elbow, Seokjin’s body molding into yours even more. 
You barely care about how your lips mold with his, as long as you keep drinking in his essence and his enticing cologne. His glasses are hard against the bridge of your nose, his tongue even rougher as it laps inside your mouth. Your moan is swallowed instantly, and Seokjin tears himself away to devour the line of your jaw and the shell of your ear. 
“Jin,” you whine, feeling wetness pool between your legs in waves as he starts to thrust his growing hardness into yours. Oh, fuck. How big is he? “Please.” 
“Please what, sweetheart,” he rasps against your slicked neck, making you melt. 
“Bed.” Body ablaze, you’ve been rendered down to basic speech. “Now.” 
Not a single question penetrates your mind other than how quickly you can rip his clothes off before you get to your mattress. Your fingers strain with the way his puffy jacket fights them, and they zoom in on his zipper and tug it much too impatiently as the pair of you burst through your bedroom door.
When you get his zipper undone, Seokjin helps you rip off his jacket, yanking it off of his arms as he’s still attacking your mouth. Before it hits the ground in an unknown location, you already feel fingers undoing the knot of your robe, and you shuck yourself out of it in a rush before the tie fully releases. 
“I need you,” you rush out as you throw your robe to the ground. 
Seokjin grabs your frantic body by the back of your head, smushing his forehead into your sweaty locks. “Then use me.” 
Your nipples pebble as your core flares to life. He thinks you mean something else. “Stop it.” 
He pauses to look at you, confused. 
Revealing your true intention, you consent, “You’ve been nice this whole time. I don’t need you to be nice right now.” 
“Fuck.” Seokjin’s eyes swirl into three shades darker. “Are you sure?”
He grabs you by the back of your neck and roughly takes your mouth, consuming you and grating and clinking his teeth with yours. And you’re swept into his swell immediately, your walls igniting like a hearth has been lit inside. “Then you’re going to do exactly as I say.” 
You don’t say anything, but a slightly tighter grip on the back of your neck gets you to look at him. “And you’re going to use your words. Especially if you need me to stop. Got it?” 
Your reply comes out breathily. “Yes.” 
“Yes,” you say, both shaken at the sudden turn of personality and utterly turned on by it. This whole week, Seokjin had been nothing but nice, agreeable, considerate. But you recall his decisiveness, his ability to take on a commanding presence. Truthfully, you should’ve seen this complete one-eighty coming. But it’s a pleasant surprise nonetheless, and you find yourself wanting to know everything about this version of him.
As soon as you agree to use communication, Seokjin renders you speechless with two firm pats to your cheek. “Good girl,” he breaths out through curved lips, and the way your core swirls is quite alarming. 
Why does that pet name make you whimper? Is it because Seokjin hasn’t spoken in this low tone yet? Is it because he’s still wearing those glasses under his sweaty locks? 
Whatever the case, you’re thoroughly enjoying the turn of events and already feel your essence seeping straight through your underwear.  
Tugging the scarf around your neck, he pulls you closer. “I’m only going to ask one more time: are you sure?” 
“Yes,” you breathe out. “I’m sure.” 
“Good.” After another kiss that rocks you on your feet, he pulls away. “You clean?” 
“Yes. You?” 
“Yeah. Condom?” 
“Yes,” you breathe out again, remembering that you also pre-packed a box especially for this trip. You think a pang of hurt will pierce your heart like all the other reminders did, but nothing comes. “There’s a box in my luggage.” 
Your eyes are searching each other’s then, as if your communication extends far beyond spoken words. And it probably does. 
“If you’re sure,” Seokjin breaks the silence, voice low as he unwinds the scarf from your neck, “I want you naked, sweetheart.” 
You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding. Gulping, you start thumbing the hem of your pants, flinching when a hand lightly swats yours. 
“Nu uh. Top first.” 
Shuddering at the control Seokjin’s exerting, you feel small as you unbutton the plastic buttons of your pajamas, a feeling you’re extremely not used to. Not that you hate it; you’re more intrigued because you like it. 
As your top is unbuttoned, you slip it down your arms, chest jutting out on instinct as warm fingers graze your nipples. Your gasp is immediate, your breaths deep as Jin continues to squeeze your breasts before tweaking them again. 
“So nice,” he whispers, his eyes lidded behind his glasses and underneath his messy bangs. With a quick slap to your supple mounds, he commands, “On your knees, sweetheart.” 
You’re confused. Didn’t he say he wanted you naked? But you sink to the floor anyway, knowing what comes next and fluttering with anticipation. 
As you’re staring at the bulge in his pants, you're wondering how big he’s going to be when your chin is suddenly snatched in a palm. Your eyes widen as they dart up to his face. 
His words are harsh as he scoffs, “Do you need me to tell you everything? What are you waiting for?” 
Your chin is roughly released, and your cunt actually throbs at the action. It’s borderline degrading. Seokjin’s playing his dominant cards. 
And it’s what you need. As you scramble to undress his lower body, you find that you’re turned on by the fact that someone can tame you like this, control you so abruptly. You’ve been in the position of control for so long that you have been missing this part of your life. 
It’s enjoyable. It’s fun. 
You can have fun. 
Your name is called above your head in the form of a question. When you whip your eyes up, Seokjin’s sincere when he questions, “Are you okay?” 
You didn’t even realize that your hands froze on his pants. You went so far deep into your thoughts that you stopped completely, and Seokjin went right back to being his considerate self. Damn, you’re jealous as hell of the one he’d end up with. You almost want this day to be so memorable that your name takes permanent residence on his lips as much as his heart. 
“Shit, sorry,” you apologize. “I promise it’s nothing bad.” 
“Okay,” he smiles. “As long as you know we can stop if you need to.” 
“I know.” The grin on your face makes him look at you with wonderment. “I’m just having fun.” You’ve never been so sincere in your life. 
Seokjin just huffs in amusement above you, shaking his head. “Don’t let me stop you then, Missus Kim.” 
Something jolts inside of your heart, zipping straight through and leaving you breathless. You know it’s a flippant comment, fleeting, reserved for the rest of your weekly stay. But it also gives you the fuel you need to completely undo Seokjin’s pants and push them down his legs with his underwear. 
As his cock springs out and Jin’s kicking his bottoms across the floor, you’re stunned into shock. Can you even fit it all in your mouth, much less your cunt? Saliva coats your mouth, your body eager to swallow it’s pretty curve, protruding veins, pink, slick tip and all. 
“Suck me off, angel,” Seokjin commands, slicing through your dirty thoughts with even dirtier words. “As deep as you can go.” 
You oblige immediately, having done this a decent amount of times before. You know you aren’t the most experienced, but you know you aren’t lacking. When your hot mouth envelops the salty tip of his cock, you brush your tongue underneath, swiveling your head at the same time. 
Seokjin groans above you, his lusty breath settling into your hair like snow. “That’s it,” he rasps out. “Yes.” 
You’re taking more and more of him with each rock of your head, knowing to lave his length with your tongue to lessen the friction. As you do this, your hands come up to assist, one of them spreading your spit along the base of his cock and the other cradling his balls. 
“Fuck,” he grunts, a hand instinctively twisting into your hair. Your eyes dart up to watch his face scrunch with desire, his glasses slightly fogged and his teeth baring as he hisses, “Holy shit.” 
Goddamn, you love how he looks in those specs. 
“Go deeper for me, sweetheart,” Seokjin commands, slightly pushing the back of your head. When you resist him on instinct, he chuckles darkly, the sound shooting straight into your cunt. “Nu uh. Don’t fight. I know you can do it.” 
You try your hardest to go deeper, tears leaking out of your eyes when his length causes you to gag. Jin tells you to breathe through your nose, so you do, but it only helps so much. When you gag a second time, Jin moans but tugs your head back to let you relax your throat. 
“Try again.” 
Your head is shoved onto his cock soon after, and you moan at how he grips your hair. Relaxed a bit, your throat is able to take more as you continue sucking him off. 
You feel absolutely drenched between your legs, and you want to relieve some of the pressure building. 
But you can’t, because your pants are spread so wide that you can’t reach your cunt. When you go to close them so you can rub your folds, you get a firm pat to your cheek. A moan engulfs Seokjin’s cock in your mouth, and you direct a pleading gaze upwards. 
“You’re so wet, aren’t you?” 
You nod, his dick lodged in your mouth and your slicked hands rubbing the rest of him.
“We’ll get to that,” he teases, eyes crinkling in mischief. “Keep those pretty legs open for me. Just keep sucking.” 
But your cheeks are starting to get sore. In an act of defiance, you tilt your head to suck on his balls instead, your hand thrusting up and down his length in continued pleasure. 
You get three good sucks in before you feel your body being hauled upwards. Not knowing what’s happening, you’re being brought right up to standing level only to be attacked by Seokjin’s scorching mouth. He’s shamelessly seizing your lips, digging his tongue into your throat like he wanted to pull secrets from your depths. You didn’t think anyone would be so nonchalant about tasting themselves, but you don’t mind one bit. 
Your chin is grabbed again, and Jin stares at the hazy look in your eyes when he smirks. “You’re not a brat, are you?”
“I don’t know,” you rasp, throat thoroughly used. “Maybe a little.” 
Fires rage behind Seokjin’s eyes. “Don’t tempt me.” 
You chuckle, but you’re suddenly shoved onto the bed before you feel his strong body climbing on top. “I’ve been wanting to do this,” he growls, sticking a firm hand right against your sopping cunt. You moan as he continues talking, “Ever since you held out a vase to my neck.” 
He leaves your body, cold air rushing in his wake. When you lift your head, Seokjin is stripping off his shirt and telling you to sit on the edge of the bed. You’re temporarily stunned by his physique, traveling all of the paved roads and ridges in his skin. It’s almost demotivating to have someone so beautiful in front of you. How are you supposed to compare to this? You suddenly feel incredibly inadequate. 
As you shrivel in on yourself, Seokjin grabs your chin and frowns at you. “None of that,” he bites. “Cover yourself one more time and I’m walking out.” 
He says it so confidently that you can’t discern if he's serious or not, but you don’t want to risk it either way. When your arms snap to your sides, he seems pleased, dropping to his knees and thumbing the hem of your pants. Even though you just sucked his dick, you’re shocked that someone you barely know would pleasure you down there. 
Jin doesn’t seem to care one bit, tossing your garments across the room before prying your legs open. “You’re so wet already,” he observes as you whimper, eyes dark and lidded. Smirking, he roams his gaze over your dripping sex when he proclaims, “I knew it. You like being told what to do, don’t you?” 
You try to clamp your legs on instinct, but Jin’s grip on you doesn’t let you and he can see your pussy clench around nothing, getting his answer and growing his smoulder. “Your pussy can’t lie to me, sweetheart. Let’s be a good girl, too.” 
Dear god. You’re uncovering so many things about yourself that you can’t help but whine and bite your lip. It’s a foreign feeling but you are thoroughly enraptured by his dominance. 
“Open them wider. If you close them, I’m going to stop.” 
You groan in agony, but you do as he says, on full display for him. Other than a low growl, you don’t know what’s happening because your eyes are directed straight at your ceiling. You can barely take the suspen—
As soon as his plush lips make contact with your cunt, you gasp at the sensation and move your legs on instinct. When you feel a swift emptiness in your core, you lift your head to see Jin, lips shining, watching you with a cocked brow. “No, no, please,” you begged, realizing it’s been forever since you have done so. “I couldn’t help it.” 
“Try harder.” 
He dives in again without his hands on your legs, and you have to strain to keep them wide. The way he laps at your folds, sucking on your clit while lolling his hot tongue around it, has you twitching with want and shuddering with exertion. 
Your feet find purchase on the side rails, your toes gripping them as a way to keep you in position. Your hands are gripping the sheets around you so tight that they’re starting to hurt, but you’re so thrown into another plane that nothing else matters but the way Seokjin is pleasuring you. 
You hear a dark rumble, and you can barely make out the words and praises that he is saying, but you swear you hear variations of “beautiful,” “deserving,” “perfect.” None of these words are some you use to describe yourself, so hearing them from a total stranger between your legs makes you preen. 
But he’s not a total stranger. You would go so far as to say he has become someone so dear to your heart that he’s made permanent residence there. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. 
There’s a long, deep thrust of Seokjin’s tongue that has your eyes rolling back. “Oh, my god,” you groan. “Fuck.” 
He chuckles after that, slapping the insides of your thighs. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” 
You moan at the slight pain, your muscles straining to stay in place. When he dives back into your folds, you feel pressure building inside of your core. When he starts inserting his long fingers alongside his tongue, you swear your soul leaves your earthly body entirely. 
What starts as one finger becomes two, then three. You’re hissing as your pussy strains to accommodate each lovely intrusion, the coil in your center winding tighter and tighter. More pressure. Immense pressure. It’s mounting so fast that your eyes are squeezing shut and your breath leaves you in short puffs. “Jin,” you plead. “I’m so close.” 
Instead of responding verbally, Seokjin pulls away from your throbbing cunt, making your chest cave in. 
“Please,” you beg, eyes pricked at the corners. “Jin, please.” 
“You disobeyed me earlier.” 
His voice is flat and cold again, and you stop every movement of your body. When did you disobey? Oh, yes. Why did he care about that?
“So you don’t get to come just yet.” 
“No! No, no,” you try to sit yourself up on your elbows, but they’re so shaky from clutching the bed for so long. “Please.” 
There’s a swift, slight pat to your cunt, and you buck your hips with a gasp. 
“A no’s a no, angel,” Seokjin explains loftily. “Now get up. To the headboard.” 
When you drag your shaking bones upward, your eyes shut with the effort. Your legs absolutely burn as much as your arms, but you’ve never experienced something so therapeutic in your life. 
Seokjin stands before pausing to rake his eyes up your sprawled, naked form. You’re sure you look absolutely exhausted, but you can’t bring it in yourself to even move. He clears his throat before asking, “Where’s your luggage?” 
“Over here,” you lazily point to the side of your bed closer to the window, dropping your arm when he goes over to retrieve the box of condoms. When he looks into your suitcase, you can tell when he sees the lingerie you also pre-packed to wear for another special occasion. 
You’re glad he doesn’t address it.
Ripping a wrapper open and sheathing himself into the condom, Seokjin takes off his glasses and sets them on the carved nightstand you have. Shortly after doing so, he crawls to position himself over your body. 
The man is silent, and you give him a curious look, expecting another order or command. 
When he notices your stare, he simply states, “Oh. Yeah. I really just wanna be inside of you right now.” 
You outright laugh at his behavior, hating and loving the way he switched off his act because he just got too impatient to have you. “Anticlimactic as hell.” 
“Oh, yeah?” He wedges his cock between your folds, and you gasp at how thick he is. He only has the tip inside and you’re already huffing out. “How about now?”  
“Shut up,” you gasp, evening out your breathing and trying to relax your cunt. “Fuck, you’re big.” 
“And you’re tight,” he winces, voice strained as he’s slowly guiding himself inside. “Damn.”
When his length fully slides inside, your walls flutter and pulse around him as they get used to his size. You’re focused on the way his dark locks stick to his forehead, the way he’s watching your face for cues to stop, the way his hand purposefully avoids the bruise on your hip. He’s filling you with more than just himself; there are emotions spilling into your heart that you’re forcing at a distance. 
“Okay,” you wheeze, “You can go now.” 
Seokjin huffs out a laugh. “You got it, Miss Bossy.” 
The retort you want to unleash transforms into a yelp as he launches into a deep thrust, filling you to the brim and shoving you closer to the headboard. Your mouth falls open as he keeps going, slowly increasing his pace and watching your breasts bounce with his movements. 
Your arms quickly grasp at his biceps, your nails digging into his skin as your legs burn from tensing, squeezing his smooth hips as he pounds into you. 
“You feel so good,” he grunts, his head dipping to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You moan as he swirls his hot tongue around the peak, and you cry out as he gives it a rough bite. When he travels to the other one, Seokjin brings a hand to pinch the wet nip he left behind, and the mix of sensations all over your body are driving you dangerously close to the edge. 
You’re crying out his name, and your hands wind up on the expanse of his back, dragging pretty red lines along his rippling muscles. 
At this, Seokjin growls, smushing his body into yours so he can change your positions. 
When you end up on top, you appear confused. 
Underneath your buzzing form, Seokjin simply smiles as he slowly sits up, signaling for you to let him rearrange his back against the headboard. “Go on, sweetheart. I know you like it up there.” 
Again, he’s right, like he’s known you for years. You get to see his flushed cheeks, his messy hair, his chest red with exertion, and the scratches you imprinted on the beautiful canvas that’s his body. His muscles ripple with every breath he takes, and you feel a certain power when you straighten your body and he zeroes in on your sex. His mouth hangs with want and you know yours is doing the same until you hiss with the feeling of being filled even more than before.
It’s always completely different from this position but, with Seokjin, you’re finding that you’re enjoying it a lot more. Just like how he’s made you enjoy a lot of things more than normal, or at all. 
You sink onto him and feel much fuller than before, almost as if he’s pushing right into your stomach. But holy hell, it feels amazing and you love seeing your temporary lover throw his head against the headboard at the feel of your pussy suctioning his cock inside. 
Temporary. You don’t have him to yourself forever. 
This thought is what fuels you to ride him like you need to pay for the entire resort. You want to be remembered. You want to give him everything. Swirling your hips around, you mix your actions and never stay in the same motions for too long. Your legs burn as you lift yourself, slamming your cunt onto his cock with wet slaps.
“Fuck!” Seokjin’s hands grip your thighs, looking like he’s trying to collect himself while still watching you—failing. “You’re so perfect.” 
You have more to give. You’re not done with him yet. Bold, you shove his hands away from your thighs and throw them down onto the bed. 
When Seokjin opens his eyes and looks temporarily confused, it’s your turn to smile. “No touching. If you touch, I’ll stop.”
Having his words used against him, Jin’s face turns heavily primal and amused. You don’t think you’ve ever been so attracted to someone in your life. He seems proud as his voice comes out gravelly, “I knew you’d be bossy, but I didn’t expect this.” 
“You like it.” 
“I love it.” 
With his hands obedient on the sheets, yours find his broad shoulders for purchase as you start rolling your hips, pushing yourself up and finding a rhythm. While you ride him in earnest, you watch as it’s visibly harder and harder for him to obey. The veins on his neck look enticing as they angrily protrude, and you kitten lick them to earn a moan.
Having control in the bedroom is just as enjoyable as submitting, you muse. Watching Jin go from a place of power to a hissing, groaning mess underneath you is making you feel things you should probably address never. 
You bite your lip hard as you see his grip on the sheets tighten, the veins on his forearms raised and aggravated. Licking your lips, you travel your eyes along those veins, all the way up to his shaking biceps and heaving chest. 
His cock throbs inside of you, the ridges tickling your walls deliciously and causing you to moan and grit your teeth. Your thighs start to burn with the effort you’re exerting to ride him, but watching him lose control underneath you just fuels you to keep going through the strain. Impulsively, you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer, immediately feeling his harsh breaths roll between your collarbones. 
“Please,” he begs, making your lips flutter around his cock, “Let me touch you.” 
“No,” you simply say, earning a groan. 
“Fuck, just...” Jin looks like he’s going to tear you apart any second now. His arms are vibrating and his fingers are paling around the fabric of the bed. “Please. I need to.”  
“No,” you say with a smile, knowing that it will piss him off. 
You fully expect him to say fuck it and do what he wants with you, fully expect him to take over. But when he doesn’t—even though it looks like he would disintegrate if he didn’t—you’re so turned on that you can’t help but relent. 
As soon as you give him the go-ahead, your breath gets taken out as Seokjin growls and immediately has your hips in a vice grip. This time, his hand connects with your bruise a bit, but you don’t mind. Instantly, he breathes out, “Relax that tight cunt for me.” 
When you do as he says, you cry out as Jin starts an absolute onslaught, thrusting you far down onto his cock and pushing into you at the same time. His pace is quick, hard, unrelenting, and he holds you in place with his arms as he thrusts up into you again and again and again. 
Your body goes limp, only a vessel for him to pleasure. You’ve never felt this out of control in your life and it’s thrilling. Electrifying. You aren’t sure if something is wrong with you with the way you feel so strongly about it. 
You don’t know a single thing except his name, and god, but those are interchangeable at this point because he’s elevated you so high above the Earth that you aren’t sure if anything can bring you back down. You don’t know what your hands are trying to accomplish, their actions frantic and erratic around his neck, in his hair, squeezing his pecs, leaving love roads along his flushed skin. You feel something wind tighter and tighter inside of you, and your eyes squeeze shut as the sensation flares and takes your breath away bit by bit.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Jin grits, his voice akin to feet scraping across the rocks outside your front door. “Just like that.” 
“Jin, I—” Your whines and moans have to be annoying at this point, but with one look at your lover’s brows and bared teeth, you dash that thought away. Your thighs are on fire, just like the hearth burning in your chest. “My legs—” 
Immediately, Seokjin leans forward, the way he pushes you down into the bed sending lust straight between your legs. “I got you,” he murmurs, a sweaty elbow digging into the sheets at your ear. His cock still pushes inside of you, but he slips into a slower, deeper, more tantalizing pace.  
“I know,” you whisper in return, your body rolling and singing with each long thrust he’s granting you. It’s so rough but so tender that, for a quick second, you wonder if this is what people mean by making love. “I know you do.” 
The ghost of a smile appears under Jin’s sweaty bangs and flushed face, and for the upteenth time, you pull him down for a searing kiss. He obliges tenfold, tongue exploring you just as his cock does, head turning to deepen the kiss more than you thought possible. When he breaks from you, he nudges your jaw to the side to leave fire along its curve, licking heat all along your neck and making your nipples pebble under his flexing chest. 
You’re a throbbing, sweaty mess under him as he starts upping his pace again, and your moans pierce the ceiling above you as your body goes completely limp. You give him everything. He deserves everything. Holy fuck, he deserves more than everything. 
Your hands find purchase on his shoulders before you’re scratching him, and Seokjin growls out, “Wrap your legs around me.”
When you try your best to, your lover tilts his body up and strains his arm muscles, the new position letting his cock penetrate you even further. You’re gasping at the feel and kicking your head back in need, throwing an arm back and gripping the side of the mattress behind your head for balance. 
The both of you cry out to each other, wordless.  
It’s messy, it’s raw, but it’s the purest form of communication you know and the way you can get each other to truly understand what you want to say. 
You’re thanking him for being there for you, he’s telling you that he’s going to keep doing so. You’re telling him how much you appreciate the way he saved you from loneliness in this temporary home, he’s thanking you for calling him out and yanking him back inside. You’re screaming at him for being too nice to you when you truly don’t deserve it, and he’s crying out that you’re deserving of everything. 
You want to tell him you feel more for him than should be appropriate. 
You feel him reach between your legs to swipe at your clit, and your legs flop back onto the bed in shock. The coil in your body winds and winds, almost to the point of anguish if it doesn’t burst soon. “Jin,” you gasp, “I’m close.” 
“I can feel it, babe,” he rasps out, and you shiver at the name. “You’re so tight around me, fuck.” 
“I can’t… I can’t—” 
Jin reaches to tweak one of your nipples, his head descending to lap at your neck and snag your ear. One final motion has his hand closing around your throat, and your eyes blow wide with lust as the feeling has you reeling towards your orgasm. With his voice rough in your ear, he commands, “Come for me, angel.” 
And it’s enough. More than enough. Your cry tears from your mouth as your body shakes with release, gushing your desire around him and spilling onto your thighs. Seokjin groans as he watches with lidded eyes, his thrusts slow and deep, milking out your orgasm and throbbing inside your folds. Your cheeks are completely hot but you find that his stare heats them even further, his shameless observation of your trembling body enough to make you think you’re worth something. 
When your high ebbs, you start to feel his cock twitch with want. By the way his thrusts become spastic and stuttered, you know he’s close. So you yearn for him to come. Fuck a temporary home, you give him the world. The universe. The universe that’s not done with you, you give it up to the man right in front of your glossy eyes. 
And he hugs you tight when he comes, his groan swirling around your ear and consuming your brain, rewiring it to only sense him and exist in this room. This space. Right in his arms. His body tenses and you can feel his cock release his essence. You regret nothing. You thank yourself for bringing him back to you. This selfless, annoying, fantastic soul that you want to hold onto until you part tomorrow. 
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers as he comes back down to cover your body, capturing your disagreement and never letting it leave your lips. While his elbow still remains by your face, his other hand grips your waist. You’re okay until you feel his forehead meet your own. “So, so perfect.” 
You don’t realize you’re crying until your sob shocks both of you, and Seokjin slowly lifts his sweaty head to look at you in earnest. 
When you see that he’s crying, too, your throat burns with a need to wipe any sadness from his life forever. It’s okay to cry, but you don’t think it’s ever okay for him to have a reason to. 
And you tell him this, to which he only chuckles before giving you another heartstopping kiss. The previous ones have made you float, but this one outright curls your toes, tenses your limbs, elevates your body to a higher place. You feel a rush of emotions you didn’t know existed and, just for a second, it’s hard to imagine you ever feeling like that again. 
Or ever living without him. 
But you fold that emotion up and wrap it in a bow, just for safekeeping under a tree you’ll come back to visit when you’re feeling down.
Because of course this is temporary. Both of you have separate lives to live when this vacation is done. You don’t even know where he lives, what his real life is like, though you have the strongest urge to learn all there is about him.
“Let’s clean up,” he whispers before kissing your nose. And after the both of you take care of yourselves in the master bath, comfortable silence and all, you find yourselves right back in each other’s arms amongst rumpled, love-worn sheets.  
Finally, the two of you talk, letting the conversation flow wherever it goes. Both of you talk through your breakups, listening attentively to the other and only offering small words of encouragement to keep going. You don’t know if it’s the best topic of conversation after sex, but you know it’s necessary. 
Later, when you think about it, being naked and baring your souls to each other seems entirely appropriate. 
In fact, you realize that you start to not feel so strongly about your breakup anymore. It’s a lingering thought in the back of your mind, but it’s definitely been shoved away by the curiosity you have about the man with his full lips in your hair. 
After a long, cathartic spew of words, you continue to talk about everything else. Nothing to do with your exes, nothing to do with broken hearts or uncertain futures. 
At one point, Seokjin admits that he saw how you looked naked the first night before covering his eyes. When you groan at the memory, he sheepishly follows up with saying that he thought you were pretty, and he almost came in his swim trunks when he saw you in your swimsuit yesterday.
Even though any ex talk is out the cold window, you still can’t help but ask, “What did you have planned for tonight? I remember you said you didn’t have anything until the last night.”
“Oh, that?” Seokjin looks up in thought. “Just a dinner. Wine night.” 
You know it wasn’t as simple as that, but you suggest, “Wine night? Why didn’t you say so before? I’d be down for that.” 
He chuckles lightly before divulging, “I cancelled it when I checked out this morning.” 
“Ah… Damn. That’s all I wanted to do this week, honestly.” 
“Seriously? Why didn’t you say so!” 
“Don’t act like that wasn’t your fault,” you retort, lightly nudging his shoulder. “All I wanted to do was spend my Christmas with a bottle of wine and sappy holiday movies.” 
Seokjin whips his head toward you, the glasses he recently put on showing your naked reflection. “I’ve been doing that this whole week.” 
“No way.”
“It’s true. You were always just in your room.” 
You can’t refute that. If only you opened up sooner. Those nights spent by yourself when you weren’t truly alone seem like an absolute waste now. Your shoulders sag with regret. 
“Hey.” You feel your chin being lifted. “We can still have our own wine night. I think there’s a bottle left in the pantry. I say we deserve it, yeah?” 
Your chest explodes with a foreign emotion. An emotion you previously thought unattainable. “We sure fucking do.” 
Hours later, when you’re still smiling and shaking your head at the comments Seokjin’s making at each movie you watch, your cheeks are as warm as the feeling that perseveres in your chest. 
And hours after that, when you find yourself back between the sheets and in his arms, the burden between your legs is divine. 
But the heavier burden on your heart is another story.
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DAY 7 
When the last day rolls around, the first thing you do when you wake is try to make it many, many hours longer.
But you know that’s not possible. You can’t live in this cabin for eternity. You can’t stay with the man you just woke up with forever. 
Your luggage is all packed, and the scarf around your neck is suffering from your duress. As you hear Seokjin roll his suitcase down the hallway, your heart seizes up in sorrow. 
His flight is earlier than yours, so he’s leaving ahead of you. You already exchanged numbers, already surprised each other with passionate kisses in the cabin, and already hugged for a bit longer than appropriate. 
When Seokjin leaves, for real this time, he tells you that everything will be okay. 
Impulsive, again, you ask if there’s a chance. If there’s a chance for you to see each other again. If there’s a chance for you both to prove what you both said if you dated each other that dark and hushed night. 
“Do you want there to be?” 
“I…” You nod, firm. “I think I do.” 
“Then we’ll make another deal.” 
Your eyes are glossy as you regard him, and you can feel your heart tugging him closer. 
“Until you know for sure,” Seokjin says, hand holding one of your cheeks. “We’ll take the time we need. Okay?” 
You know he’s right. As strongly as you feel for him now, you’re both still wounded. It will take time to heal, and you don’t want to rush into another relationship while that’s something you’re both dealing with. 
It’s smart. It’s calculated. It’s logical. 
You didn’t think he had it in him. 
Seokjin tugs the scarf he bought around you tighter, smiling with stars in his eyes. “I never liked this color,” he admits, “But I like it on you.” 
“Noted,” you respond, fighting back tears as he kisses your cheek, then your nose, then your forehead—holding strong until he captures your lips. You lean forward as Jin finally pulls away, and you slowly move to the front to walk him out.
You know you have to give each other space. Give each other time. 
But as the door shuts behind him, your heart hammers against your chest, tears leak out of your eyes as you place a fist on the worn wood. 
Because fuck any deals. Fuck any logic. 
You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.
So you hope, with all the power in your soul, that Seokjin feels the exact same. 
Days and days and days from now.
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DAY 358
You jingle your keys until you find the right one, and you twist it into the lock before slipping inside. 
Holiday music slides through the many rooms of the house, mingling with the scent of gingerbread and pine. Your cheeks burn from being outside for too long, and as they settle into a neutral temperature, you make your way to the kitchen. 
You pass an island, humming along to the song playing until you set your things on the round table.
“What are you doing?” 
You turn in shock, panic slipping into familiarity when you see your very wet boyfriend with a towel wrapped around his waist. At the sight, a laugh bubbles from your throat, because it brings you back to a year before. The time when you met that feels so long ago now. 
You don’t purposefully recall the slew of wonderful events that occurred in the last year, but your mind can’t help but default to the positives when you’re soaking in Jin’s presence. Raising your hands, you beckon your love closer—he is definitely very wet and naked underneath the material around his waist. 
Did everything really start with the engagement that happened last month? Or did the chain of fortunate and miraculous events begin way before then? In any case, you don’t have a clear answer and, being the person you are now, not having an answer is perfectly normal and okay. 
Among other things, you’re also loved, so you remember everything Seokjin had done for you while succumbing to the tender feel of his lips on yours. 
For starters, he asked you out when you thought you were being fired—that alone deserved its own plaque and diatribe on your personal wall of revenge. But Seokjin decided that you needed further embarrassment, so you weren’t allowed to retract your acceptance, everyone you knew was told to keep quiet, his stunt made you late to work, you were being congratulated every five minutes, and a searing kiss when you got home was the cherry on top of that cake.
You shudder from the way his hands travel up your body. Maybe this is karma for having a life that went completely hellish for a period of time. 
Feet scrape the kitchen floor as you bend your legs, further ministrations making your head nestle between your fiance’s neck and shoulder. 
Your dates always ended between the sheets, you called and texted nonstop, you kept polaroids of each other, there was a period of waiting and yearning, and when you finally got your keys to the same place, you made your way to your home and almost slipped on the pavement, avoiding bruising any hips or scraping the hand adorned with your engagement ring. 
“You’re so silly,” you laugh suddenly, realizing that he didn’t know what was happening. As you turn to admire the chaotic gingerbread house on the kitchen island and the tiny trophies littered around the counters, you ask, “Who did you think I was?” 
“I heard a noise so I came running,” he scoffs. “You should just appreciate your lover’s fast instincts.” 
“I don’t see a weapon anywhere, love. How were you going to defend yourself?” 
“Don’t you know, Missus Kim? My looks can kill.” 
“I hate you,” you sigh, undoing the towel and letting it drop to the floor. “But I agree with that, Mister Kim.” 
And that brings you here: swept into Seokjin’s arms, laughing with glee and overcome with happiness, and contemplating what the hell you both did to deserve it.
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A/N: AHHH well, here is my contribution to the christmas in july collab! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it. dear goodness me, i loved writing this seokjin and reader so damn much. if you made it to the end, thank you endlessly! my dms and inbox are always open if you wanna chat about any of my stories, and here is my masterlist if you would like to browse❄️
taglist (thank you all for your interest and support! it means so much to me, always<3): @taejinnies​ @shrimpmsg​ @trustingofwinds​ @missgeniality​ @propinqxity​ @yourbibillyhills​ @bangtanhome​ @abyssnamedaeri​ @taeescript​ @rrrrap-monster​ @supernoonanyc​ @lcksndkys​ @moonchild1​ @hantaev​ @ladyartemesia​ @bringmetheksj​ @jinscharms​ @shameless-army​ @ruwaidahmulla @kaepjjangiya​
++ feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021!): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist 
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suga-kookiemonster · a month ago
satisfy 04
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summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 10.6k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ sexual content, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink 👀, spanking, light degradation, light humiliation, light choking, exhibitionism, hair pulling, cumplay, creampie, pussy slapping, namjoon’s a little mean but you offended him so 👀
a/n⇢ i absolutely did not intend to take this long between updates ☠️☠️ idk how time passed so quickly while i was working on other stuff, but here we finally are! happy belated birthday, joonie!!! ily, my day 1, my virgo bf 💕 mood for this chapter is this. hope you enjoy!!
chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist
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Seokjin had you the most consistently.
The next couple months passed by almost in a fever dream. On the surface, things were normal—you went to class, you studied, you hung out with your friends when time would allow. Exactly the same as it’s always been.
But you knew the parts that were invisible to the outside looking in. Like how all of your free time was now taken up by your new (rich, impossibly handsome) employers. How your definition of a normal night had quickly shifted from browsing Netflix to spreading yourself for Kim Seokjin’s eager mouth.
Seokjin fucked you every Thursday, just as the two of you scheduled. To your surprise, he continued to be just as attentive a lover as the first time you had given him your body, always seeming to revel in making you feel good. But in addition to your scheduled meet ups, he’d asked you twice over the past few weeks to accompany him to company events. And it was during those nights that you truly started to understand what he got out of his arrangement with you.
Those nights, you got dressed up in the gorgeous designer dress that you had picked from the list Wendy had sent you (already curated to your previously-provided tastes). The supplied dress and shoes were all extremely flattering and always fit you like a glove, because your measurements had long been taken and tailors were sent, if necessary.
As always, your main objective was simply to support him. To walk the room with him when requested, a careful manicured hand in the crook of his elbow. To fill the space next to him during any sit down dinners. The expected eye candy for such an affluent bachelor, you supposed. Though Seokjin never made you feel as such—always the perfect gentleman, always getting you drinks, always including you in conversation, when appropriate.
But these dinners highlighted the distinct difference to you. The difference between the man who had cooked for you and this one—the man who was oh so careful and calculating with his words; the man who schmoozed, who smiled and laughed without humor—was stark. And it was at these dinners that you started to understand the need for that dichotomy. Kim Seokjin was a smart man—he saw those corporate dinners for exactly what they were. He wasn’t deluded enough to believe that these social events were anything short of war, and he was a man always ready for battle.
As his ever-present companion, it would be hard for you not to notice. The snide remarks made by crotchety old men, the petty comments muttered under their breath, just loud enough to ensure you could hear. But beyond the slight tightening of a hand on his glass, you never saw Seokjin react. He was the picture of perfect grace, simply smiling in a way that clued the board members in that he was onto their little game. Simply giving the correct answers to their outwardly benign yet clearly spiteful questions.
It was when the events were over, when the chauffeur would drive the two of you back to Seokjin’s condo, that his impeccable mask of composure would start to crack. When you started to see just how tightly wound these ordeals truly made him.
The first time, he had been on you before the elevator doors had even shut properly, mouth slotting against yours with an intensity that had caught you by surprise. He had walked you backward, licking your lips open as his hands pushed up the hem of your dress and freely roamed underneath. That night, he had laid you down and ate you out until you cried.
This was how he destressed, you came to realize. Seokjin loved to play your body like a fiddle, to guide you to the peaks of pleasure and keep you there for as long as he so pleased. And, as you quickly learned, the best way for him to melt away any of his frustrations was to be balls deep in you—just like tonight. Tonight, you were thankful he lived on the top floor and no one was on the other side of the wall the headboard was loudly and rhythmically rattling against. Thankful that no one was witness to how he was hard he was riding you. Slowly, but forcefully, the way he had hooked your ankles over his shoulders ensuring he hit deep. Making sure you would feel every last bit of his massive cock.
You were exhausted, whole body jelly from the three orgasms he had already coaxed out of you. But still he wasn’t sated, whispering praise and reassurances against your fevered skin. Eagerly swallowing your whimpers, sweetly begging you to gift him with one more, just one more, sweetheart. Smiling when a sure thumb rolling against your clit finally resulted in your jaw falling slack, back bowing as your pussy locked a vice around him.  
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Taehyung had you most often.
As a member of your social circle, he simply had the easiest access to you. Even if he didn’t always reach out to you directly, he still went to all the same movie nights and dinners and bar meetups as you did, so the end result was exactly the same—him and you. Alone.
After your first night together, Tae rapidly became comfortable with your new relationship dynamic. He didn’t necessarily act differently toward you in front of the others—there were no lingering touches, no out of pocket comments full of innuendo. (Sometimes, if he caught your eye, he would smirk knowingly or send you a cheeky wink, but none of this was out of character for him, and so if anyone else saw it, they thought nothing of it.) But as soon as the two of you were remotely alone or out of earshot, he was liable to casually bring up something he would like to try. And since you had proven yourself to be so openminded when it came to what he liked, he had no qualms about discussing this with you whenever the mood struck him.
(“White,” he murmured in your ear one night at dinner, smoothly handing you a $100 bill while your companions were busy arguing over which appetizer to order. It was a change of pace to sit next to him instead of Jimin, but Tae had slid into the booth next to you before the other man could react.
Your resulting nod was one of both confirmation and approval, and you quickly put the money into your purse. But unfortunately, the exchange had not gone by completely unnoticed.
Jungkook perked up, holding his hand over the table expectantly and waggling his fingers. “You gonna gimme some of that, since you’re handing out free money?”
“I owe her for lunch,” Taehyung lied with a scoff, rolling his eyes for good measure.
The redhead reluctantly retracted his appendage, his excitement visibly dimmed. Jimin didn’t say anything, but you hadn’t missed the slight, pensive scrunch of his brows.)
Despite your frequency of meet ups, the two of you did not always have sex. One of the things Taehyung had admitted to you early on was that he enjoyed giving foot massages. And since you enjoyed receiving them, it was a no-brainer that you would allow him to infiltrate your busy schedule more easily—so long as he didn’t interrupt whatever you already had planned for the night. With that mindset, it soon became rather common for the two of you to be found sitting on your couch together on a weeknight, your feet in his lap while you studied. Taehyung, ever considerate, wouldn’t say much as you completed your reading, content to sit in silence as his large, strong hands pressed into your flesh. And honestly? It was pretty relaxing. Helped keep at bay the always hovering cloud of stress from your schoolwork. Kind of helped you to wind down from the day. So you kept saying yes whenever he asked, and he kept showing up with takeout from whatever restaurant you were feeling that particular night, and you kept doing whatever assignment you had planned while trying to suppress any audible sounds of pleasure from escaping you.
There was always a much higher probability of the night being derailed by much more…carnal activities if Tae could clock your interest.
One thing you learned early on not to agree to without planning for it beforehand was pedicures. Though every week or two he already provided you with money to visit professionals and keep things spicy, one day Taehyung had rather shyly asked you if you would be comfortable with him painting your nails instead. Seeing no harm in the request, you had easily agreed. But you had clearly underestimated how much the act would work your friend up, because he had barely finished haphazardly polishing one foot before his tongue had somehow found itself meandering up its sole. Before his hand was down your pants, before your panties were pulled to the side, before he was buried to the hilt in your guts.
After the first couple times this happened, you learned to be strategic to when you agreed to this request. Taehyung asking to paint your toenails almost always ended up in sex you had not always set aside time for, so you mentally sorted this into the scheduled activities pile.
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And Namjoon? To your complete bafflement—despite months of meeting up with him—he still hadn’t had you at all.
Maybe he was asexual? Honestly, the true reason was probably exactly why you had been wary when Taehyung had proposed the arrangement to you in the first place—the man simply didn’t want to have sex with you. Which made total sense, considering he was such a catch. Rich? Handsome? And a genuinely nice and respectful guy who didn’t fit the cocky, insufferable mold men of his status tended to occupy? Why would he even need to look in your direction?
…But why would he bother with the arrangement in the first place if either of those reasons were the case? Why agree to tie himself to you when he could have literally anyone he wanted? When he could have asked his brothers to pick someone else who was more suited to his tastes?
It made you feel a bit off-kilter, to be honest. With Jin and Taehyung, the boundaries were clear and you knew exactly where you stood. But it all felt a little murkier when it came to Namjoon.
Every week, you would meet up with him—sometimes for more walks at the park, sometimes for dinner at a nice restaurant, once for lunch and a day at the history museum.
If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were being courted. That Kim Namjoon was taking you on dates, that the two of you were in the very beginning stages of a potentially romantic relationship. But every day you reminded yourself of the secured PDF hidden in a special folder on your laptop—a digital copy of a fully-executed contract. You refused to fall into any other sort of thinking—never let yourself become deluded about why it was exactly he was buying you dinner, why the two of you went to the movies to see the latest superhero film.
Paying for your time, your contract explicitly stated, so technically, nothing was out of place.
And yet…
You couldn’t stop yourself from metaphorically holding your breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
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The text went by unnoticed for over an hour, you being too distracted by the racks and racks of lace to pay the vibrating of your bag any attention.
A man of his word, Taehyung had replaced the tights he had ruined tenfold, showing up at your apartment one night with a gift bag full of delicate, intricately-designed nylons (many of which were suspiciously missing crotches). You appreciated his gift, but as time went on, you were highly amused to find that it had clearly been just as much for him as you.
Your relaxed attitude about his decidedly peculiar sexual preferences only made Tae more enthusiastic to share them with you, but you didn’t mind. Truthfully, it didn’t take very long for you to start reveling in his worship. But who could blame you? To have such an impossibly attractive man pay such acute attention to you only stoked your ego and confidence.
At the end of the day, his obvious pleasure triggered yours in turn, and there was no clause in your agreement that said you weren’t allowed to enjoy your job. So why the fuck not?
This thought process was what made you pause when you happened to cross a lingerie shop on your way home from court one day. You were no stranger to lingerie, but you had never put that much thought into it before, simply finding a bra and panty set whose price, in your eyes, justified the amount of material you were paying for. Now, with a lot more pocket money and a much more interested partner, you found yourself  taking the time to scrutinize more scandalously see-through designs than the ones buried in your drawers. Found yourself rifling through ones that conveniently unsnapped at the crotch and had garters to match.
It was only when you were at the register and reaching into your bag—your hand brushing against your phone before your wallet—that you were reminded of the device’s existence. And a cursory look at the screen alerted to two missed texts—one from Jimin and one from Namjoon.
Two texts, same message.
Are you free Saturday?
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Namjoon picked you up in a black car that, at first glance, was much less flashy than the bright red Lamborghini Tae liked to drive. The BMW insignia lightly stitched into the headrests quickly smashed any thoughts you could have of the car being any less expensive, though.
“Hey,” he greeted as you slid into the passenger seat. “How was your week?”
Like always when you met him for day outings, he was dressed rather casually—he had forgone his glasses, and today’s ensemble included a yellow sweatshirt, yellow sweatpants, a black beanie, and sneakers. But despite his outfit’s simplicity, you knew it had to cost more than your entire wardrobe.
“Busy,” you groaned, melting into the buttery leather. “I told you I’m doing that internship, right? Well, I’m shadowing my professor on his case, and when I’m not at court, there’s a lot of paperwork to get through and  even more reading to do. And since I went to that corporate dinner with your brother earlier this week, I’m really behind and have a lot of reading to catch up on and—” You paused, it suddenly occurring to you that Namjoon had merely asked to be polite and likely didn’t actually give a shit. He was perfectly aware you had been at the dinner—he had seen you there, after all. “Wow, I’m sorry. I’m just rambling on and you don’t want to hear all that.”
“Of course I do.” His eyes shifted from the road to you, lips twitching amusedly upward. “I asked.”
The suspiciously fond look on his face made heat spring to your own, and you turned away, flustered. “How was yours?”
“Long,” he sighed, focus returning to the road. “Not as busy as you, it sounds like, but it sure as hell felt like it.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “You know, if you’re that busy, it’s totally fine if you’d rather we skip this week. It’s no trouble—I can turn right around and take you back.”
You shook your head immediately, slightly nervous you’d fucked up. Complaining to your employer that your job—that you were paid a lot of money for—was inconveniencing you? Were you a fucking moron? “No, no,  no, of course not! That’s not fair to you and I promise, I’m totally fine. Unless you’d prefer we reschedule because you’d rather unwind or something.”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow at the sudden urgency underlying your tone. “This is my unwinding—was just worried about you.”
“Please don’t worry about it, Namjoon! I’ll figure it out. Just cut back on sleep or something.”
A puff of laughter. “You already look like you’ve been cutting back on sleep.”
His clear amusement soothed your rising alarm. “Wow, thanks,” you snorted. “Tell me I look like shit without actually telling me I look like shit.”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that!” he protested, laughing again. “Don’t put that on me! You don’t look shitty at all, just more tired than usual.”
“Very astute observation. You are correct, kind sir.”
His cheeks dimpled at your playful tone. You smiled in response, happy that months spent together had seemed to tamp down his shy hesitance. While still ever the gentleman, Namjoon was no longer as politely detached as he had been when you first met—no longer super careful with his words, no longer as reserved. He laughed, he joked, he was sarcastic. He was a person, and not just a corporately-crafted one. And while time had shown you that Namjoon could still sometimes be relatively awkward, it always seemed more like a personality trait than a response to you in particular.
“Well, if you insist on today still happening, I’ll try not to keep you out too long.”
You raised a finger in protest. “Hey now, don’t be rushing me! I’m tryna see some otters.”
“Then we’ll see some otters,” he said resolutely with a laugh. “And sea turtles. I love sea turtles.”
When he had originally texted you to ask your availability, you were pleasantly surprised to hear that he wanted to go to the aquarium. You hadn’t been to one in years, and it just so happened that the one in this new city you now called home was known for being one of the best in the country, so you had been more than happy to agree to Namjoon’s suggestion of hitting it up. Plus, since the two of you were going early in the afternoon, you would still have enough time to catch up on some reading later that evening, especially if you ate at the park.
And luckily for you, Jimin hadn’t minded catching up with you later in the week instead. So all in all, despite a very hectic week, your Saturday was looking to be pretty chill, and you were grateful for it.
“How come we didn’t just take the train there?” you asked curiously. “I’m not sure if it would have saved us time, but it definitely would have saved you some parking money.”
“I was already running errands and thought it was easier to just pick you up,” Namjoon shrugged easily. “Besides, would you really prefer to be squished on a train right now?”
He had a point. The aquarium was in the touristy part of the city, and you had no doubt that there would be a ton of people on the train headed that way on a Saturday. Besides, you somehow kept forgetting that a thirty dollar parking fee was chump change for Namjoon—they could have asked for three times that and he probably wouldn’t even blink.
“No, this is much more comfortable,” you admitted.
“Good.” His cheeks dimpled again. “I’m glad.”
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Namjoon, you came to find out, was rather enthusiastic about the aquarium. After the two of you paid, he took his sweet time analyzing the map, eyebrows furrowed a bit in concentration as he worked out the best  order to see everything. You bit your lip, doing your best to tamp down your amusement at his childlike excitement. It was cute.
Still, he wasn’t the only one looking forward to the day’s activities. “I’m so glad we’re here,” you admitted easily. “This place has been on my to-visit list since I moved here.”
Namjoon looked up from the map curiously. “You’ve never been here before?”
“Nope.” You pointedly popped the p. “Honestly, I’ve been so busy that I haven’t really had the chance to be a tourist yet. I was pumped when you suggested it! ”
“Then I’m glad I did,” he replied with a soft smile. “Let’s make sure we get the most out of it.” He shuffled a bit closer to you, leaning the map in his hands in your direction. Your eyes followed the finger he dragged   along its surface, tracing a suggested route. “What do you say we hit the freshwater section first? There are some river otters in there, and it’ll put us on the right path the dolphin show.”
You hummed in agreement of his assessment. “Yeah, it looks like that only runs every couple hours and the next one is in twenty minutes, so sounds like a plan.”
The two of you chatted as you meandered down your chosen path, pausing every so often to observe any fish in the tank that caught your eyes. “I just think it’s ridiculous that we make dolphins jump through hoops when they’re so intelligent,” Namjoon commented.
“Definitely ridiculous and arguably unethical,” you agreed. “I mean, I know plenty of humans who are dumber than dolphins and we don’t make them do tricks for our amusement. We just allow them to be government officials.”
“Still, we’re already here, so.”
“Exactly,” you nodded. “At this point, it would be rude not to see the dolphin show.”
“Can’t let all their practice go to waste,” he said solemnly, and you snorted, only triggering his own chuckles.
He really was a good-looking man. A fact that was impossible for you to forget, but it was during moments like this—when he was bathed in the luminescence of the fishtanks and smiling just widely enough that his eyes started to disappear—that the realization hit you with a vengeance.
“Namjoon,” you said without much thought. Maybe he was just too shy to come on to you? Maybe he was still just waiting for your go-ahead, for some sort of sign. He looked over his shoulder at you curiously. “Why are we here?”
Confusion had his smile faltering a bit. “…To see the sea turtles?” he hedged.
You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “Well yeah, of course, but I really meant why.” This didn’t seem to clarify anything for him, so you continued. “Like, obviously I love going to museums with you, and going to movies, and getting ice cream. I love that. But Namjoon, I would do all of that for free. And that’s not really why you’re paying me.”
All humor faded from his expression, something strange flitting across his face instead. It was gone too quickly for you to decipher what it meant exactly.
“I know what I’m paying you for,” he said, voice with an uncharacteristic edge.
The air between you, only seconds before playful and teasing, now had an intensity that made you hesitant and on edge. The look he pinned you with had you freezing in your tracks, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You eyed him back warily, completely thrown by the change in his demeanor.
“I know you do,” you backtracked quickly, nervous you had crossed some sort of line. “Obviously you do! I was just—”
“Not that I need to explain myself, but I tend to get a lot more out of things when I connect with the person. I’ve been trying to get to know you first.”
Your mouth opened, an apology heavy and waiting on your tongue, but whatever you were about to say fell on deaf ears. Namjoon pointedly looked at his watch, sighed, and swiveled on his heel, making his way right back in the direction the two of you had come from. Caught off guard, you instinctually followed him, having to walk faster in order to keep up with his long legs.
“Namjoon, where are you going? I didn’t mean to imply anything—”
Your rambling did nothing to stop his stride. He didn’t slow down for you. He didn’t look in your direction. In fact, the only acknowledgment of you that you could see was the periodic tic of his jaw as he led the two of you out of the building and back to the parking lot.
Silently, Namjoon unlocked the doors of his car. You hesitated, wondering just how badly you had fucked up and unsure if he still wanted you around at this point, but his gaze snapped to you, making you realize that you found his full attention markedly more unnerving than the lack of it.
“Get in.”
You obeyed without question, quietly sliding into the passenger seat and buckling your seatbelt as Namjoon, eerily calm, put the car in drive and started driving to his intended destination. Normally, the nerves you were feeling now would have your mouth running a mile a minute, but the noticeable tension in Namjoon’s posture effectively rendered you mute.
A missed turn immediately clued you in to the fact that he wasn’t taking you home, which didn’t help your bemused, spinning mind any. It wasn’t until later, after the two of you had sat in a charged silence for what felt like forever, that you started to understand what was happening. Namjoon turned into a driveway next to an expensive high rise. You realized you were entering the building’s garage when a keycard, succinctly procured from his pocket, activated the large metal door in front of you.
His place. He had taken you back to his place, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why.
You had brought it up, after all.
Namjoon didn’t speak to you when he gave his car keys to the valet. He didn’t speak to you on the way up the elevator. He didn’t even speak to you when he unlocked his door and tossed the contents of his pockets on an awaiting foyer table. He only led you further into his condo and stared at you, the intensity of his gaze almost smothering.
“Namjoon,” you tried again, your voice meek and unthreatening. “I’m so sorry if I offended you. I promise I didn’t mean to rush you or anything. It’s just that it’s been a few months and I was curious.”
“Curious,” he repeated, head tilting as he considered it.
You had thought his previous silence—his previous indifference of you—unsettling. But you were starting to realize that having his full attention was undoubtedly more so.
“Curious?” His decidedly mocking tone threw you off. As did the humorless chuckle that escaped him. “Or selfish?”
“W-What?” You blinked owlishly, skin prickling from the weight of his stare.
“It only matters what you want, right?” He shook his head, clicked his tongue. “Bratty. Selfish.”
You could only gape at him, completely taken aback by this change in attitude and not sure where it was coming from. So taken aback that you almost missed the way he eyed you up and down, gaze intense and calculating.
“Do you remember your safeword?”
Oh. Oh. This was definitely happening. This was finally happening and now that it was, you found yourself once again filled with nerves—back at square one, as if you were new to this song and dance and hadn’t actually spent the past few months sleeping with men for money. A taunting crook of Namjoon’s brow at your extended silence had your tongue scrambling to reply. “Yes.”
“Tell me.”
You blinked rapidly, confused beyond belief. On edge as you scrambled to recall the word you had written on your contract what seemed like forever ago. “Cinnamon.”
Namjoon’s eyes softened a little, lips twitching in approval. “Good. If at any point you need me to stop, you use that. And I want you to tap me three times if you can’t say it.”
You could practically feel your eyes bug out of your head, breath catching in your throat as your brain struggled to reconcile the man standing before you with the things he was saying. Completely thrown, you could do nothing but gape at him stupidly while you watched his expression settle into something markedly intimidating.
“You need to use your words,” he admonished sternly. “It’s important that we communicate and stay on the same page. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes,” you croaked.
“When should you use your safe word?”
“If I need you to stop.” Only moments before it had been hard for you to even formulate responses, but now, much like a chastened child, the words were flying off your tongue.
Namjoon tilted his head slightly. “And if you can’t say it?”
Your mind was currently too frazzled to come up with any situation where you wouldn’t be able to verbalize your discomfort, but clearly the man in front of you was full of surprises. “Tap you. Three times,” you hurriedly added when he crossed his arms over his chest impatiently.
“Good,” he allowed with a tilt of his head. “But overall, you haven’t been very good for Daddy, have you.”
Daddy? Jesus, what had you gotten yourself into?
He didn’t wait for your response. Namjoon turned on his heel, silently making his way down a nearby hallway and giving you a single glance over his shoulder to ensure you were following him. And follow you did, distractedly taking in your surroundings.
Like his brother, Namjoon lived in one of the most exclusive buildings in the city. But while Seokjin lived in a penthouse suite that was very modern, Namjoon’s place was much more rustic and homey. There was an expensive-looking bicycle parked in the corner of the living room, various plants sunned themselves against the floor to ceiling windows, and though the furniture was obviously high-end, it all also felt a lot more lived-in. While at Seokjin’s you often felt wary touching anything or breathing too much of his rich people air, you could easily see yourself easily curling up on Namjoon’s couch with a hot cup of tea and a good book.
But reading was clearly the last thing on Namjoon’s mind. He led you from the living room, down the hallway, and right into a spacious bedroom with a large bed. This room being on the same side of the building as the living room meant that it got the same gorgeous view of the city, and had the same wall of floor to ceiling windows to best showcase it.
“The dolphin show was in 15 minutes, so I think 15 is a good number,” Namjoon mused suddenly, throwing you out of your reverie. He sat down in one of the armchairs in the little sitting area next to the bed, sucking on his teeth irritably as he stared at you, eyes steely. “Strip.”
“You heard me the first time. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Seriously. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?
You couldn’t help the way you reflexively bristled at his tone. He’s paying you, you reminded yourself, pushing down the urge to ask him who the hell he thought he was talking to. Warily, you eyed the gorgeous view that, seeing as rich people in high rises apparently didn’t believe in blinds, also gave you generous access to the homes in the building across the street.
“Here?” you asked incredulously. Fully aware that if you could easily see people as they lounged on their couches, they also most definitely could see you.
Namjoon didn’t deign to answer you. Simply stared you down expectantly and got more comfortable in his seat, the space between his thighs widening in a clear display of dominance.
You technically had never marked exhibitionism as a no, but now that the opportunity presented itself, you found yourself hesitant. Shy to show your body, to any onlookers, yes, but mostly Namjoon, who was sitting there so stone-faced that you questioned if he truly wanted you at all.
Still, after another glance out the window at the opposite building confirmed there seemed to be no one home at this time of day who would see you, you simply exhaled the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and started to do what you were told.
Your shirt went first, pulled over your head in a manner that was decidedly unsexy. But in your defense, you didn’t feel very sexy, Namjoon’s expression remaining unchanged despite your increasing state of undress. Your jeans were next to go, awkwardly shuffled down your hips and kicked aside. You paused, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for him to do…anything, really.
But Namjoon just kept staring you down, fingers tapping impatiently against his knee. “Keep going.”
Already feeling rather naked under his scrutiny, it took you a few moments to convince yourself to take the plunge, ridding yourself of your bra and underwear as well. At first, the emergence of your tits seemed to have no effect on him, but then a quick swipe of his tongue across his lips sold him out. That, and the way his eyes hungrily roved your form, pupils big and dark.
“Come here,” he ordered, voice gravely as he patted his lap. You approached him willingly, moving to straddle him, but strong hands on your waist stopped you. He shook his head, tutting disapprovingly. “No, none of that. We’re not going to reward your selfish behavior.”
Okay, the bizarreness of this all was starting to frustrate you. What the hell was he going on about? Why drive you all the way here and get you naked if he wasn’t going to do anything about it?  
Your bafflement must have been evident on your face, because Namjoon graced you with some clarification, patting his lap again. “Bend over. You’re getting punished.”
Ah, okay, a little roleplay. You could get behind that, no problem. Now feeling like you had a better grasp of the situation, you obediently crawled your way onto his lap, sliding into a horizontal position and resting your chest on the armrest to make sure your ass was front and center. You gave it a saucy wiggle, but a glance over your shoulder showed you that only triggered an aggravated tic in his jaw.
This was your first warning.
Large hands curiously roamed, gliding up the lines of your body, fingers squeezing the back of your thighs. Carefully ignoring the meat of your ass, instead drifting along the panes of your back. Your skin prickled in excitement, body eager for his touch. Impatiently, you wiggled your ass again, and this time, the hand tightened against your hip in warning.
“Spread your legs,” Namjoon demanded huskily. “Since you want to be such a fucking tease. And keep them that way.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” you joked, shifting your hips a bit so you could do as he asked. This position was a bit uncomfortable, with one armrest digging into your sternum and the other cutting into your ankles. But now that your pussy had come into play—the widening of your thighs giving him better access—it was much easier to ignore all that.
“You think this is funny?” He shook his head disapprovingly. “We’ll see if you keep laughing. Count them.”
You were about to ask what you were supposed to count when his hand came down. The crack of palm meeting skin reverberated throughout the room, the yelp you let out a mixture of surprise and pain.
“I don’t hear you counting,” Namjoon admonished, tone mocking. “And every time I don’t hear you, we’re going to start over.” And with that, he struck you a second time, in the same spot, making you grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the armrest against the sharp sting.
“One!” you blurted before he could make good on his threat. Namjoon hummed in approval, giving your asscheeks a squeeze before swatting you again, this time a bit harder, and on the opposite cheek. You flinched. “Two!”
You weren’t new to this—you had allowed a few previous partners to spank you before. But right away you knew this was different. The times you had been spanked before had been playful—Kim Namjoon was very obviously not here to play games. The force he was hitting you with? Your ass had not felt a fury like this since you were six.
A punishment indeed.
But your mama raised no bitch—you weren’t going to break. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to you. So you started steeling yourself for each strike, taking each whack with little more than a grunt of its number.
“Not so funny now, is it?” You didn’t answer right away, too focused on your breathing. This didn’t sit well for Namjoon, who pressed into your rapidly bruising flesh at your silence, making you hiss. “I’m talking to you.”
“No,” you acquiesced with a shuddery exhale.
Namjoon spanked you again, holding you down as your body reflexively tried to jolt out of his hold.
“No, what?” Smack.
He roughly grabbed you by the chin, forced your head to turn so that you would meet his eye. “No, what, _____?”
It took you a few moments to understand what he wanted from you, your brain too scrambled from all the stimulation. “No, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he growled, his grip on your face tightening before he let go. “You will address me properly or I’ll start over. Keep counting.”
“Ungh! Seven!”
“Keep your legs open,” he snapped, pushing at your knee until you got the message and did it yourself. You hadn’t meant to close them in the first place, but it had been an apparent reflex to his blows. “You want to act like a slut? Keep yourself spread.”
You gasped at the word, shocked to hear it come from a man you previously assumed to be meek. But while degradation had never really been your thing, something about the nonchalant way he had said it stoked the building flames in your gut.
He met your gaze head on, eyes completely blown. A hand drifted inward, fingers ghosting over your damp lips, and you couldn’t help the whine that left you at the feeling. He was touching you right where you wanted him, but it was not enough.
Namjoon chuckled darkly, apparently amused by your building desperation. He trailed teasing fingers up your slit one more time before rearing back and delivering his next blow, the flat of his hand landing right near your clit.
“Fuck!” you screeched, all of your nerve endings in overdrive. No one had ever hit your there before, and while your body’s immediate reaction was to try to curl into itself to shrink away from the pain, you also found yourself almost immediately pushing back into his hand, teeth locking on the fabric of the armchair.
“How many?” Namjoon prompted, carefully rubbing the swollen area to ease the sting.
“Eight,” you moaned, rocking into him.
“Eight, Daddy.”
“Just so you know, I’m being really lenient with you right now,” Namjoon mused. He hit you again, this time back on one of your flaming asscheeks. “I already told you I don’t like to repeat myself.”
Your back bowed at the impact, breath shuddering at the resulting rush of endorphins. “N-Nine. I’m sorry, Daddy.”
He scoffed. “You’re not sorry. Look at you, making a mess all over me. Humping me like a bitch in heat.” He wasn’t wrong—you kept pushing back, delighting in the attention of his hands and the delicious friction that resulted every time you dragged your clit across his pants. “If I didn’t know any better”—another swat, a whimper of ten by you—“I would think that you actually like being disciplined.”
“Mmmm.” You were starting to become delirious, your body so wound up from all the stimulation that all you could think was more, more. “Hurt me, Daddy.”
Namjoon paused, eyes darkening as he considered you and the way you were still eagerly rutting against him, everything about you screaming your need. Without a word, he used one hand to keep you still as the other rained vengeance across your already blistering skin. One after another the final blows came, alternating between both of your reddened cheeks, and you could do nothing but sob out their respective numbers, unable to do much more than take it. By the time you finally hit fifteen, you couldn’t see, tears and saliva smeared across your face.
“There you go,” Namjoon murmured, gently smoothing a hand down your inflamed skin and making you flinch at the resulting sparks. “Good girls take their punishments.”
You didn’t reply, dazed and twitching and euphoric. But despite your mind still reeling, it still didn’t escape your notice that while you were stark naked and a blubbering mess, this man hadn’t even bothered to remove a single item of clothing.
Without warning, he slid a finger into you, the resulting squelch audible even to you. You whined, surprised at the amount of pleasure that rippled through you at the small action. But the moment you tried to rut back into his hand, the finger was gone, idly wiping residual slick onto the insides of your already sticky thighs.
“Are you going to keep being good?”
“Yes Daddy,” you whined. Pliant and agreeable, any defiance you may have previously had smacked right out of you. Too focused on how ridiculously close you somehow were to cumming.
“Then why don’t you get up for me, baby girl.”
You scrambled off his lap eagerly, wobbling to your feet and wincing against the sting of doing so. Movement across the street drew your eye, and dazedly, you realized it was someone in their kitchen, rooting around in the fridge. They were in easily visible, and that just reminded you that so were you, naked as the day you were born and getting spanked like a petulant toddler.
The man casually shut the door and wandered into another room with his drink, no longer in view. You could only assume that he hadn’t noticed your midday activities, but who’s to say no one else did while you were…preoccupied.
The feeling of hands cradling your face immediately turned your attention back to Namjoon, looking down at you with dark eyes. His thumbs gently swiped away your tears. “Get on the bed,” he murmured.
You didn’t have to be told twice, quickly moving to do as you were bid. Gingerly, you sat down on the edge of the mattress, awaiting his next instructions.
Namjoon pulled his sweatshirt over his head, and he must have grabbed his shirt too, because the next thing you know, he was standing before you half-naked, muscles rippling under beautifully tanned skin as he uncaringly tossed the clothing away. You could only gape at him, stunned at how well he had been masking just how beefy he was underneath his preferred wardrobe of oversized clothing. He was the tallest of his brothers, and, judging by the circumference of his biceps, also likely the one who spent the most time in the gym.
His lips quirked knowingly at your blatant gawking, but quickly smoothed back out in displeasure. “Turn over,” he demanded, reaching for the band of his pants and sliding them down his hips. The emergence of a powerful thigh vindicated your newfound belief that he was a man who never missed leg day.
You paused uneasily, doubtful your ass could handle any more of its previous treatment. Still, you complied, repositioning yourself on your hands and knees away from him. Movement caught your eyes, and it was then that you realized that there was a mirror on the other side of the room, likely there to help him get dressed in the morning. But its positioning meant that you could conveniently see him approach you from behind, a rapt expression on his face. Even if you couldn’t see him, you would have been able to feel him, anticipation ensuring his approaching body heat was almost scorching.
And dear god was his cock big. You weren’t sure why you were even surprised at this point—what, with being intimately aware of exactly what his brothers were packing—but you couldn’t help the way your eyes widened when you saw it, adrenaline rushing through your veins in preparation of what was to come.
His hands were on you without warning, squeezing your ass with both hands and making you reflexively whimper when it smarted. Namjoon just tutted, a large palm pushing between your shoulder blades until your chest hit the mattress.
For a few moments, he didn’t do anything, content instead to simply admire his handiwork in silence. You wondered what exactly had him so transfixed. You wondered if your bruising was starting to bloom in the shape of his hands.
Spread wide like this, vulnerable under such a critical eye, you felt your insecurities start to creep up. Time stretched between you, only serving to stoke your nerves further. You shivered, resisting the increasing urge to close your legs.
You felt the mattress dip with the addition of his weight. Then, finally, light as butterfly wings, you felt his lips against your backside. Over and over, he brushed gentle apologies into the tender skin, the promising warmth of his breath against your already dripping core making you clench. You were so focused on the tease of his mouth that the finger he slipped into you caught you by surprise, an unexpected groan shooting from your throat.
Namjoon rewarded your reaction with another finger. His hands were big and fingers long, resulting in a rather delicious stretch, but you were so wet at this point that his digits slipped in and out of you with relative ease, the way he made sure to curve them down to brush your g-spot causing your thighs to tremble. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, working you open just slowly enough that he was starting to drive you insane with need.
“Please,” you moaned into the sheets, beyond horny.
“Hmm?” Namjoon asked mildly, tone deceptively bored. But you knew better. His fingers snapped forward in a single, forceful thrust, knocking another whine out of you before returning to their previous tortuous pace. “Did you want something?”
“What did I tell you before?” he chided you. “You need to use your words.”
It was driving you mad. He was carefully massaging you open, hitting all the right spots, but it wasn’t enough. Was just enough to make you hover over the precipice, but refuse to let you drop. Just enough to make you want to burst into frustrated tears.
You weren’t too proud to beg.
“Fuck me,” you whined, pushing your hips backwards and forcing him deeper. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling. “Please Daddy, fuck me, I’ve been so good for you, please fuck me, please—”
“So needy,” Namjoon tutted disapprovingly. “You act like you didn’t just get fucked a couple days ago. Are you that hungry for dick?”
“For your dick, Daddy.”
“Hmm.” His fingers abruptly left you, your hips reflexively chasing them in protest. “You need to be careful what you wish for.”
You started to lift onto your elbows, fully intending to turn to face him and plead your case, but he merely pressed down on your back until you were face down again, hips arched exactly the way he wanted. Roughly, Namjoon guided your knees further apart, widening the space between your thighs. The position felt a little awkward, but you forgot all about your discomfort when you felt him dragging his cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices. And then he was pushing forward.
The intense pressure of the head breaching you made you shudder out a gasp. Namjoon’s hand drifted across your hip, silently rubbing reassurances into the skin. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. “You’ve been so good. Come on, relax for me.”
While you were starting to get familiar with the initial burning pressure of getting fucked by a ridiculously large cock, you being face down, ass up meant that you were going to feel every inch of him, deep, deep. You gripped the sheets beneath you, focusing on the heat of his hand as it drifted inward and circled your clit, on your breathing as he slowly separated your walls.
“There you go.” He pressed a few reassuring kisses into the damp skin of your neck, his fingers still tracing figure eights. You reflexively bucked, your body sucking more of him in.
Namjoon kept rubbing as he slowly rocked against you, his shallow thrusts gradually becoming deeper as your pussy started to invite the intrusion. In no time at all, he was in to the hilt, hips gently rolling against yours, his cock scraping against your spongy nerves.
You jolted as if electrocuted, ass snapping back wantonly. “Ohhhhh god. Shit. Moremoremore—”
Abruptly, all movement stopped. Alarmed that your road to ecstasy was being blocked again, you desperately turned your head to the mirror to see what the hold up was. Namjoon was staring down at you, jaw clenched.
“There you go again,” he growled. “Only thinking about what you want.”
“I didn’t mean t-to—” you stuttered, brain scrambling to string words into a sentence. Anything that sounded like a valid excuse. Anything to make sure he didn’t stop.
“You need to learn when to watch that pretty mouth of yours, or it’s always gonna get you in trouble.”
“Nam—” You cut yourself off with a nervous swallow.
He cocked his head at your near slip-up, palming your ass roughly in response. The resulting stinging was an immediate reminder of what occurred the last time you misbehaved. “Such a greedy thing. I thought you had learned your lesson, but obviously not.”
Your orgasm hovered tauntingly within reach—so close that that was all you could think about. So close that you would do anything to convince him to let you cum. “Daddy, please!”  
“Hm.” He didn’t seem to be affected by your begging, immovable as a brick wall as he continued to idly squeeze your behind. His control was insane, you noted. His cock was buried deep within you and still he did nothing to appease you. Only willing to move when he was ready to.
But luckily for you, as crazy as his control was, he was still a man at the end of the day. His patience only went so far, and with the way your pussy kept pulsing around him, primed and ready to finally lock down, it didn’t wasn’t long before he finally broke, a seemingly involuntary pump of his hips making you both shudder in response.
Apparently done with his game, Namjoon leaned forward until his chest was flush against your back. You gasped, nerves buzzing with the promise of something finally happening. Of the thrill of his body covering you completely, of the peculiar sense of comfort and security that came with willingly giving up all control.
And then he pulled out.
The force with which Namjoon rammed back into you knocked the breath straight out of your lungs, the bed frame rattling violently against the wall. It was only when his strokes continued their fevered intensity that you realized exactly what you had done.
It was too much. It was too much and too good, all vocabulary leaving you as you wailed nonsensical sounds instead. Your body was starting to inch up the bed a bit every time his pelvis slammed into you, but Namjoon was having none of it, pushing down on you with more of his bodyweight to ensure you couldn’t escape, even unintentionally. A hand reached up to give one of your nipples a rough twist before disappearing again to bury itself between your legs. He pressed hard circles into your clit, hips unrelenting.
“Cum,” he growled in your ear, and, ever the good girl, you immediately did, fingers tightly gripping the sheets, mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm finally rocked you to the core.
Everything was tight, tight, your toes curling with the force of it, and Namjoon kept fucking you through it, not slowing down his frenzied pace in the slightest, even as your pussy attempted to lock him in place. Even when it was finally over and you were left gasping and trembling in the aftershocks. Namjoon fucked you like a machine set on autopilot, and he refused to relent.
Sensitivity had your hands scrabbling for purchase, and your futile clawing made the corner of the fitted sheet actually pop off the mattress. Your hips tried to scoot forward in an instinctive attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation, but Namjoon only tightened his grip on you.
“Stop running and take what you begged me for,” he snapped, reaching up your body. Fingers rooted themselves in your hair, yanking just enough that you reflexively moved to your elbows to support the resulting strain he was putting on your neck. While the hold on your hair kept you right where he wanted you, it also provided him with just enough leverage to continue to fuck you hard and deep, his balls smacking into your ass with increasing rhythm.
You let out a choked sob, unable to do anything else but let him batter your pussy into smithereens. To let him use you as he pleased, toss you around to his liking like nothing more than a ragdoll. “Oh godddd…”
“Take it,” he repeated through labored breaths. Rather suddenly, his bodyweight was gone, and before you could process why, so was the grip on your hair. Instead, his hand hooked around your neck and swiftly tugged you upright, once again pulling you flush against his sweaty chest.
Reflexively, you reached back and held onto his bicep, trying your best to keep your balance when he was still pounding you from below. To keep your sanity.
With one hand tight on your hip and the other around your neck, Namjoon had you right where he wanted you. Normally, the idea of being choked would make panic race through your veins, but he wasn’t doing that, exactly. Just resting his hand there with only enough pressure to keep you still, to use as leverage for his thrusts. Still, the warm weight of his palm, the loss of control, the whisper of danger—it made you tingle all over. Just that quickly, he was going to make you cum again.
Though you were still overstimulated and still overwhelmed, the promise of rapture had you leaning into the feeling, allowing lust to pull you under its fervid waters. Even in your delirium, you heard it when his breathing hollowed, noticed when his grip on you tightened a bit. And your cunt fluttered excitedly in anticipation.
“Inside,” you groaned. “Please, I want all of it.”
Namjoon answered you with a snap of his hips that bordered on violent, your eyes rolling back at the resulting euphoric burn.
You whined, desperate. “Inside inside inside inside inside—”
He came with a long, guttural groan, panting hot against your neck as his cock pulsed and spilled rope after rope of his hot seed inside you. You vibrated at the feeling of it, moaning right alongside him.
It took a few moments for him to return to his body, to come to his senses. He completely released his hold on you, but when he shifted backwards so he could sit properly, your exhausted body ended up going with him, needing him for support. Namjoon didn’t seem to mind, pulling you to sit more comfortably between his legs. “Look,” he murmured, tapping the side of your thigh to get your attention. He gestured across the room.
Barely lucid, you followed his direction to the previously forgotten mirror. The two of you were sitting in bed, sticky and exhausted.
Namjoon slowly pushed your knees apart, your reflection revealing the treasure between. “Look at how messy you are.”
You shivered when he spread your puffy lips with two fingers. Cum, already starting to leak out of you, trickled down his digits and glistened in your pubic hair. He was right—it was messy, and with your thighs spread like this, it was easy for both of you to see the way your pussy actually clenched at the sight of it.
Namjoon froze for a moment, eyes darkening with this newfound knowledge. “You like that, huh?” Lazily, he rubbed his own mess up and down your slit, instantly gratified by your resulting whimpers. “You know, for someone who begged me for it, you sure are wasting it.”
Without warning, he sunk three fingers into your sopping cunt.
“Fuck!” You jolted, a hand reflexively circling his wrist, but not doing anything to stop the way he pumped the digits in and out of you, pushing the mess back inside. The resulting orgasm took you by surprise and you trashed in his hold, moaning at the intense pleasure rippling through you and riding his fingers like you were possessed.
Namjoon only stopped when your hips stopped rolling, when you collapsed against him. His fingers left you with a squelch, slick and shiny with both of your releases. He pressed them against your bottom lip and you reflexively opened your mouth, sucking them all clean.
For a little while after, the two of you sat in silence, just like that. Namjoon’s embrace was warm and comforting, the rhythm of his breaths slowly lulling your weary body into dreamland. You were so out of it that you barely noticed when he murmured something against your hair, the words slipping past your sluggish consciousness too quickly to register. You hummed a nonanswer, eyelids heavy, but became a bit more alert when his arms were unwinding from around you and he was moving away. The bed dipped at the loss of his weight.
Your expression must have shown your displeasure, because Namjoon sent you a small, reassuring smile in response. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, leaning down to catch your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle, deepening the longer it went on, and he pulled back with an amused chuckle when your arms started to wrap around his neck. “Stop trying to seduce me. I’ll be right back.”
“I wasn’t trying to seduce you,” you pouted, but you certainly didn’t want him to leave you, either. He crooked a disbelieving eyebrow at you as he left the room.
Namjoon’s large body had been like a furnace. It was a bit more chilly without his form wrapped around yours, but as you timidly sat there alone, you realized you weren’t just rubbing your arms for heat.
“Here.” He was back before you could start to think too hard about anyone in the building across the street. He handed you a glass of water, crouching down so he could be eye-level with you. “Drink this for me.”
You accepted the glass obediently, distracted by the way he rested his hands on your knees, idly drawing circles with his thumbs.
“How do you feel?” he asked, eyes roving your form carefully.
“Tired,” you answered honestly after a few sips.
“That’s normal. I’m sure this was a lot for you.” He groaned, running a hand through his damp hair and making it stick up oddly. It was cute. “Ahhh, look what you made me do! I did not intend on doing this today. I was really looking forward to seeing the sea turtles.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his earnestness. “Sorry.”
“You should be. I’m bummed I didn’t get to introduce you to Barry.”
“Barry?” you asked curiously.
“Barry the Barracuda. He’s a well-known local and is on a good amount of the aquarium merchandise.”
“Oh no,” you deadpanned, handing him your empty glass. “I’m so sad I didn’t get to meet a giant, scary fish with way too many teeth for comfort. Damn.”
Namjoon laughed, the sound loud and endearing and infectious enough that you laughed too. He kissed you again, pulling back this time before you could try any more of your funny business. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You groaned, too exhausted to even contemplate doing anything else but laying down and taking a nap. But Namjoon just laughed again, easily gathering you up in his arms and carrying you to an adjoining room that you then learned was the master bathroom.
The master bathroom that was bigger than your entire apartment and housed the biggest bathtub you had ever seen. Even your increasing fatigue was no match for your astonishment.
“Here you go,” Namjoon hummed, carefully setting you down in the sweet-smelling bubbles. Even sitting down, the water went up to your neck, the temperature just bordering on too hot for your newly sensitive skin. He must have noticed your slight discomfort, because he continued, “It’ll feel really good in a second.”
He was right, of course. Your could already feel your body acclimating, tension you didn’t know you were holding seeping out of you. To your surprise, Namjoon climbed in after you, the tub big enough to seat you both comfortably. There was no way it wasn’t custom made.
Like this, wrapped in Namjoon’s arms and tranquil waters, it was easy for the tiredness to return. You made yourself comfortable, leaning against his chest and letting him rub soap into your skin. He bathed you in silence for a bit, his gentle ministrations making your eyes flutter shut in complete relaxation. But it was the sudden sound of his voice—quiet, but rumbling—that stalled your inevitable slumber. “Are you okay?”
You hummed, eyes still closed.
But he wasn’t satisfied. “I need you to use your words.”
The same thing he kept telling you earlier. Now, though, it sat differently on his tongue. Less authoritative, more concerned.
“Yes,” you humored him.
“…Did I hurt you?”
You shifted a bit as you considered your answer. “Yes. But I liked it.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “We need to work together to find your limits. And for this to work, I have to be able to trust that you’ll use your safe word when you need it.”
“Namjoon.” You turned your head to throw him a reassuring smile, pushing his bangs away from his concerned eyes. “I liked it.”
He regarded you silently, looking for any sign of a lie. Finally, he clasped your hand in his. “Promise me you’ll use it.”
“I promise.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’m sorry we missed the dolphin show.”
He let out a puff of laughter, breath warm on your neck. The two of you didn’t leave the tub until the water started to grow cold.
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“Are you okay, _____?” Jimin asked at dinner a few days later. He had been shooting you worried glances for the past twenty minutes, but had apparently hit his limit and couldn’t help but voice his concern. “Why are you sitting like that?”
“I, um, fell,” you replied lamely. You nervously stuffed a fry in your mouth, hoping he would drop it, and when his eyes narrowed suspiciously, quickly tacked on, “Tripped over a curb. I think I bruised my tailbone.”
“Ah, you need to be more careful,” Jimin chided you, but it didn’t escape you that there was a pensive pinch in his brow for the rest of the meal.
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jjungkookislife · a month ago
In Your Dreams (M)
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☽ pairing: incubus husband!seokjin x wife!reader
☽ genre: established relationship, smut [18+]
☽ synopsis: Seokjin creates nightmares on the daily and All Hallows Eve is no different. However, when he accidentally drops into your dreams upon his return home, he’s surprised by what he finds.
☽ wc: 2.5k
☽ warnings: cursing, incubus!jin, consensual somnophilia, f. masturbation, mention of voyeur!jin, multiple orgasms (f), fingering (f. receiving), hair pulling, marking (biting, hickeys, scratching), breast play, impreg kink, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, tiny lactation kink, belly bulge (I'm sorry), creampie
☽ an: i took some liberties with the incubus since seokjin is monogamous and instead causes nightmares for energy
☽ date: October 2, 2021
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Late nights were the norm for your husband, Seokjin. It wasn’t unusual for him to crawl into bed long after you had gone to sleep. Tonight, on All Hallows’ Eve, it was no exception.
When Seokjin had arrived home, he wasn't surprised to see you asleep in your marital bed, tucked in and sleeping soundly. The dim glow of the lamp illuminated his path to the bed, a smile on his lips when he sees the shirt you’ve chosen to wear to sleep.
It was one of his favorites, often found in your drawer instead of his when the laundry was put away. He didn’t mind when you’d throw it on, knowing you must have missed him dearly if you’d worn it to bed tonight. Oh, how he wished he could spend your favorite night at home instead of invading strangers' dreams. He wonders if you were dreaming of him since you missed him so much.
Seokjin knew better than to jump into your dreams, and normally he had more control of his touch, but his longing tonight was greater than ever before. He missed you while he was gone. Terrorizing others' dreams, turning them into nightmares, took a lot out of him. But he needed that energy from their fear to live, so with a heavy heart, he would leave you almost every night to dream drop.
Yawning, Seokjin walks to the mirror. He looked exhausted, his eyes clouding with sleepiness and his natural glow not as radiant. He was still drop-dead gorgeous. His beauty from the slope of his nose, to the plushness of his pink lips, high cheekbones, and his sculpted chin were all part of his tantalizing allure. It was part of his charm, part of what allowed him to slip into people's dreams without much resistance, turning sweet dreams into terrifying nightmares. Tonight, he was worn out, didn’t feel like he was at his full potential. Seokjin figured all he needed was a good night’s sleep to regain his energy and restore his glow. Tomorrow night wouldn’t be as strenuous as Halloween, so he had that to look forward to.
Seokjin strips out of his clothes, remaining in his boxers as he checks himself out in the mirror. He blew himself a kiss before turning around to get into bed without waking you.
Carefully, he gets under the covers, licking his lips when he sees your delectable thighs with your shirt riding up to bunch at your hips. Your black panties are on display and his fingers graze the soft material as he settles in behind you.
Seokjin is wary as his fingertips graze your cheek, admiring your beauty from the curve of your lips to the softness of your eyes. How he wished he could have spent the night with you, holding you in his arms and pressing kisses to your lips.
He’s so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize his touch has caused him to slip into your dreams.
“Fuck,” Seokjin curses at the realization. He looks around until he spots you at the opposite end of the room, lying on your shared bed alone. His brows furrow at first, his lips turning into a frown as his heart sinks to his stomach. Were you dreaming of tonight when you’d been left all alone?
Seokjin steps forward, his apology sitting heavily on his tongue until you gasp. He freezes in his spot, eyes wide and lips round in shock.
On the bed, your legs were spread, one hand palming your breast and the other out of sight under the waistband of your panties. Soft moans escape your lips, back arching in the slightest as your husband’s name escapes you in a whiny plea.
As Seokjin admires you from afar, he notes the way your eyes are squeezed shut, chest rising and falling as you quicken your pace despite the trembling of your thighs. Oh, how he wishes he were the cause of your pleasure.
“Seokjin,” you groan, arching and canting your hips in the air as you cry out for your husband amidst your impending orgasm.
“I’m right here, baby,” Seokjin assures you as he climbs onto the bed, his hand stroking your cheek. Your eyes open, relief flooding through you as your fingers rub your clit faster, not wanting to lose your orgasm.
“That’s it, baby. Rub yourself for me just like that. I bet you’re dripping wet, aren’t you? So wet and aroused you couldn’t wait for me to come home?” Seokjin chuckles mockingly, licking his lips as you nod. You tremble, cursing and moaning his name as your orgasm hits and you cum, hard!
Panting, you reach out for your husband. “I thought you weren’t going to invade my dreams anymore?”
Seokjin has the decency to blush, his ears burning as red as his cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to touch you, baby. I missed you so much. Besides, you know your dreams are my favorite.” Seokjin winked and pressed a wet kiss to your cheeks. You giggle, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. He growls, his hand gripping the nape of your neck to kiss you. You kiss him eagerly, thankful he’s back home even if you’re fast asleep and he’s in your dreams instead. If you focus hard enough, you can feel his body pressed against yours outside of your dream. His erection pressed against the curve of your ass with his arm draped over your waist.
“My dreams are only your favorite because you’re a voyeur,” you poke his chest with your index finger and your husband takes a hold of it, bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to your fingertip, his teeth nipping at the pad. “Mmm.”
“Such lovely sounds,” Seokjin coos as he releases your finger, gliding his hand down your side until it rests on your hips. “Why don’t we rid you of these and see the mess you’ve made of yourself, love?”
“Please,” you agree airily, your lips meeting his as his hands easily rip your panties off. His large hand rests on your warm thigh, feeling remnants of your orgasm on your skin.
“Look at you,” Seokjin smirks, his fingers dancing upward to touch your folds. They’re coated in your arousal instantly as he rubs your clit in slow circles, making you whimper from the sensitivity. His lips capture your dulcet sounds, tongue pushing past the seam of your lips as his fingers slip inside you, curling as he continues to kiss you.
Your hands grip his broad shoulders as he hovers over you, nipping and sucking on your bottom lip. Your fingers laced in his hair, tugging it as you turn to allow him space to kiss and mark your neck. His fiery tongue laves at the skin, teeth scraping along the flesh before suckling it.
You melt beneath him, soft sighs spilling from your lips as he helps you out of your shirt. Your bare breasts garner his attention, his plush lips kissing every bit of them until he takes a pert nipple between his lips. His tongue flicks the bud, circling after before taking it between his teeth and biting gently.
You arch into him, hands gripping his hair, shoulders and then digging into his back, leaving pink trails in their wake. Seokjin groans, erection throbbing in his boxers, aching to be released and enveloped by your tight cunt.
“Want you,” he murmurs against your tits, love marks scattered between both.
“Fuck me, Seokjin,” you whisper, your hand caressing his face, thumb pressed to his lips. He smiles, taking your thumb in his mouth, suckling it before releasing it with a lewd pop.
“Your wish is my command, baby,” He presses a kiss to your forehead then your lips as he leans back to rest his weight on his knees. He slowly palms his cock, feeling the spot where the pre-cum has soaked through.
“Is that so? Can I ask for anything I want?” You question him hesitantly, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Seokjin nodded. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“I want to have your baby,” you say softly, nervousness clear in your tone. Seokjin’s brows rise in surprise. That’s not what he was expecting you to say.
A beat of silence passes before Seokjin kisses you once again. His lips move in sync with yours, tongues twined and hands roaming each other’s body.
With one hand, Seokjin rids himself of his boxers, sending them flying across the room before he palms himself. The head of his cock dribbles pre-cum that he used to aid him in his stroking. He needs to be inside you. The thought of filling you with his cum clouds his mind, head reeling because the result of such actions leads to his offspring; half him and half you.
Seokjin nuzzles into your neck, nipping and sucking as he slots himself between your legs. You keen, loving the weight of his body atop of yours as your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in when he lines up at your entrance and slides in with no resistance. A gasp from your lips is all that’s heard when he bottoms out, giving you a second to adjust before he’s grunting your name, his breath fanning across your heated skin.
“You’re so fucking wet,” Jin hisses as you clench around him, his teeth raking across your skin. A lovely mark will bloom come morning and the thought alone has you pulsating, thighs quivering as they wrap around your husband.
“Fuck me. Fuck your baby into me, please,” you plead in a breathy tone that has Seokjin’s hips nearly slamming into you as he moves to take a hard nipple into his mouth. In just a few months he could be drinking from you and the thought must cross your mind because he feels sudden wetness—a creaminess hitting his tongue.
It’s your dream, he reminds himself as he suckles your breast, his hand kneading the other, eyes lidded as he sees the tiny droplets that spill from it. He’s enchanted by the change, your moans rising in octaves as his lips move from one nipple to the other. Your hips rise off the bed to grind on his, coaxing him to start thrusting into you.
Seokjin releases your breast, gripping your thighs as he rocks into you. He sets a pace you can keep up with, meeting each of his thrusts with one of your own.
Sweat beads at your hairline, body fueled with desire and the need for your husband to breed you. Whimpers fill the space between you, breathing heavily as Seokjin fucks you harder, deeper until the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each powerful thrust. He pistons in and out of you, the obscene sounds of your coupling lewd enough to have your ears burning with embarrassment but your husband is fucking you like a man possessed, the need to breed too powerful to think of embarrassment at a time like this.
You’re so warm and wet, deliriously tight around his cock as it drags along your walls; the perfect fit for you. Your thighs pull him in further, ankles crossed behind his back as he kisses you, wanting to be as close to you as possible while he fucks you full of his seed.
When he looks between you, right where your bodies connect, it’s a sticky creamy mess that has his cock twitching inside you. And when his eyes rove a bit higher, Seokjin nearly loses his load at the sight of your belly bulging from his thick fat cock.
“Look,” your husband instructs in a low voice tainted with lust. “Look at how you suck me in. Such a greedy cunt.”
You look down, seeing and feeling him in your abdomen. Your head spins, eyes fluttering shut and lashes brushing the apples of your cheeks. You grip the sheets beneath you, crumpling them in your fists as a wanton moan escapes you.
“You can’t help but take my cock, huh? Want to be pregnant so bad, love? Need my seed to fill you to the brim?” Seokjin chuckles, hand gripping your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple.
“Need it so bad,” you whisper, moaning his name as he grinds into you, his thumb finding your clit. “Please, baby. I need you. Need your cum.“
“So greedy. Desperate for my cum,” he smirks, lips capturing yours in a messy kiss as his thrusts speed up. His body thrums as he fucks you, his mind growing foggy as he nears his peak.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum for me and you’ll get what you want,” he pleads, tone whinier than ever before. “Cum for me, and I’ll fill you to the brim. Cum so deep inside you, you won’t have a choice but to get pregnant.”
“Seokjin,” you sob, nails digging into his back as you arch into him. He watched with lust-filled eyes, licking his lips as you fell apart beneath him, pussy tightening around his cock as you shake and tremble with pleasure. Seokjin isn’t faring much better, groaning as your wet cunt milks him for all he’s worth, until he’s cursing and moaning your name, thrusts growing sporadically until he’s filling you with his seed. Thick ropes of cum drench your walls, leaving you pulsating around his cock, satiated and exhausted when he finally pulls out of you.
Seokjin admires the mess he’s made of you, using his fingers to push any escaping cum back into your well-fucked cunt. The sight of you has his cock twitching and he knows he’ll be ready to go again in just a few minutes.
You sleepily welcome him into your arms, wrapping him tightly in a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Seokjin exhales softly, getting comfortable in your hold, and when he notices you start to fade, he knows you must be waking.
With one last kiss to your lips, he lets you go to welcome you into consciousness.
“Good morning, love,” Seokjin greets you when you wake completely naked. The blankets are lying over your hips and you feel a certain soreness between your legs and on your breasts.
“Good morning,” you greet in return, your husband draping his arm over your waist. “I take it you paid me a visit in my dreams?”
“I did it by accident but it was very eventful, If I do say so myself,” Seokjin chuckles, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Do you wanna have my baby?”
You swallow thickly, face heating under his gaze as he laces your hands together, offering a squeeze for support.
“More than anything,” you state, biting your bottom lip as you nervously wait for his response.
“Then how about another round?” Seokjin asks with a smirk. You nod in agreement, giggling when he kisses your entire face before he’s on top of you. You look so pretty beneath him and his cock throbs are the thought of you round with his child, breasts so full of milk it makes his mouth water.
Oh, this was definitely the best Hallows Eve in all his years.
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© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube. 
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clouditae · 2 months ago
Slow. Dirty. Wet.
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Seokjin x reader | 18+ | oneshot | collab | friends to lovers | college au | fraternity | carwash | smut | fluff | oral sex | unprotected sex | dirty talk | bondage | blindfold | choking | dom | sub | cursing
banner maker: @joheunsaram​​
word: 5.5k
part of the hot boy summer collab
When Seokjin stops by your convenience store to buy his typical snacks, he’s such a friendly and funny person. When you stop by the beta tau sigma’s car wash, he’s a completely different person, and inside the office of that car wash, he shows you how different he really is
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“Good morning, Y/N,” Seokjin says, the bell ringing as he opens the door, the bell ringing once more as the door closes behind him. “Having a good morning I hope,” he adds, smiling his typical huge smile as he walks down the second aisle where his favorite bag of chips will be. He usually stands in front of the variety of chips looking, as if he’s deciding on which one he wants the most when he always chooses the same one. 
You check the time on the computer screen in front of you; fifteen past eleven. “Good morning,” you reply, eyes traveling back to him as he makes his way to the back of the store for his Sprite. 
He makes his way over towards you at the front, eyes scanning other foods he might want to buy as well. As usual, he takes nothing and stops in front of the counter, placing his items in front of you. You grab the chips first, showing the barcode to the scanner, hearing a beep before going for the Sprite. 
“Easy day?” he asks, fishing in his pocket for his wallet most likely. 
“So far,” you answer, handing him back his snacks for the day. You tell him the price and add, “Heading to class?”
He gives a happy smile as he replies, “Got canceled, so I’m heading towards the carwash.”
You frown in confusion, opening the cash register to put the money in. “Carwash?”
It’s his turn to frown. “You haven’t heard? My frat is having a carwash to keep our philanthropy alive.” Seokjin shrugs. “Seven good looking guys washing your car? Win-win situation for all.”
You can’t help but laugh. The Beta Tau Sigma is very well known at the university; very popular with everyone. You either want to be them, or you want to be with them. Some just want to have sex with them. Overall, they’re like the popular boys in high school, and you just happen to see one of them almost every day when he comes into the little convenient store to buy his chips and sprite at exactly fifteen past eleven. 
You’re not going to deny the fact that he is very good looking—you see what everyone is talking about. His tall figure, charming smile, and dark chocolate eyes that can make you feel all types of things. When he squints his eyes just a bit, tilting his head as he listens to you talk, it makes you want him. It’s strange to you if you’re being honest. Seokjin is such a kind, friendly person, so the fact that just a simple gesture—which is meant to be friendly—makes you want him is just ridiculous. 
He’s a nice person. That’s all you need to know. “Good luck on your carwash,” you comment. 
He opens his mouth then closes it before finally answering, “Thanks. See you later!” And with that, he grabs his items and exits the store. 
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When you see him again, it’s a few days later. You didn’t have to come in to work for a few days, so you haven’t seen Seokjin around. You don’t even see him on campus, so you only see him when you’re working. 
He enters the store and walks straight up to you rather than go towards the back to grab his usual. He stops in front of the counter and looks at you with such determined eyes it catches you off guard. You’ve never seen this look before. What is he going to say? Did you do something wrong the last time you two saw one another?
“Would you like to go out on a date one day?” he suddenly asks, definitely catching you off guard this time. 
It’s silent between the two of you for a moment before you reply, “What?”
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, eyes looking at anything but you now. “Do you wanna go on a date?”
You open your mouth to respond, but your head is still processing his words. “You want to go on a date… with me?” You thought that your reply would be more of a statement rather than a question, but you can hear it as clear as day that you’re questioning his choice as if you’re the worst option out of the list. 
Not the best thought, but in this moment, your thoughts went straight to the negative.
And it seems Seokjin is just as confused as you are because he frowns and says, “Why did you say it like that?” 
You shrug in response. “It’s just... I never thought that someone like you would want to go on a date with me. We’re basically strangers and I’m sure there are a lot of other people who have similar interests as you, as well as know them.” 
“I know you and I have different tastes, and we only see each other here, but I would like to take you out on a date and get to know you more,” he tells you, basically throwing your comment out the window. A statement that tells you that no matter the difference, there’s always a chance that opposites attract. “So, what do you say? Would you like to go out some time?” he finishes. 
You’re silent for a moment, a debate going on in your head as to whether he’s serious or not. If you want to go on a date with him or not. Should you? Do you? You can’t deny that it’s a hard decision. On one hand, you can’t deny there’s a small attraction to him, and on the other hand, you don’t know him really well. At all, really, but almost everyone who dates doesn't know each other in the beginning. That’s the whole point in finding “the one”. 
“Sure,” you finally answer, heat rising on your cheeks as he smiles brightly at you. 
“Great,” he begins, “how about this Friday? I’ll pick you up at your dorm building?”
“Okay. Friday.” 
“Seven?” he asks.
“Seven,” you confirm, giving him a single nod. 
Seokjin doesn’t go to the back to grab his usual items. He simply waves and leaves the store. When you see him again, it’s three days later when he comes to pick you up for your date. You spent almost the whole day trying to find the perfect outfit. Eventually, after much debate, you choose a rose colored shirt and light blue jeans. Looks cute, but also looks casual so you’re not overdoing it in case he’s not looking for something too fancy.
Quickly slipping on your shoes, you grab your bag, phone and keys, and leave your dorm room, speed walking down the hall and towards the exit door. When you step outside, you’re immediately met with Seokjin. 
He greets you with a smile, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. You’re honestly surprised by the feeling. You’ve never felt a feeling like this before with him. Maybe you just never noticed? It’s hard to not notice a fluttering feeling in your stomach, or your heart beating so fast that it worries you. But right now you’re going to ignore all these lingering questions because you just want to experience this date to its fullest. You honestly want to experience all the rumors you hear when it comes to going on a date with Seokjin. 
There are tons of rumors: Seokjin is such a romantic. Seokjin is so polite and funny. Seokjin is such a sweet lover in bed—then there’s rumors about him being so rough and dominating in bed that those rumors are so hard to believe. He’s not that type of guy. 
But you want to see everything the rumors say about him. 
“You look amazing,” he says, sticking his arm out towards you. 
You can’t stop the smile growing on your lips as you reply, “Thank you. You look amazing, too.” He’s wearing black pants with a white shirt tucked in, black derby shoes and a midnight blue coat that stops at the middle of his thigh. His light brown hair parting more at the side rather than the middle. He looks like a model. 
He chuckles. “Thank you.” Looping your arm through his, he leads you towards the parking lot where his car is waiting. “I’m excited for our date,” he confesses, side eyeing you with what seems like a light blush crossing his cheeks. 
You can’t help but shyly smile as you agree, “So am I.” 
“First I’m taking you to this amazing place for dinner…”
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The first date was absolutely amazing. It’s everything you could have imagined, and everything the rumors said about him. He’s such a gentleman and such a romantic, so when he asked you out for a second date, you agreed almost immediately. He laughed at how quick your answer was and you felt so embarrassed, but you had your second date and your third. 
“You should tell your friends about our carwash,” Seokjin tells you as he places his usual chips and drink on the counter for you to scan. 
“Tomorrow’s your last day right?” you ask him, taking the items and scanning it. 
“Yup. We’ve been doing really well with raising money, but we’re trying to get as many people as we can to come by. We need as much money as we can for our philanthropy.” 
You nod, handing back his items as he hands you the exact change. “I’ll let them know,” you tell him, opening the cash register to place the money inside. 
“You can come by, too, if you want,” he begins, your eyes traveling up to him as you close the register, his eyes looking down at his items, “We have two types of treatments for your car. They'll do the fast, clean and dry way, but for you"—he looks over towards you, eyes dark and tempting—"I'll be doing the slow, dirty and wet treatment in the office.” You’re blushing immensely, heart racing at an alarming speed, and Seokjin only shrugs at your response. “After our last date, I can’t help but offer more than what we did that day.”
On your last date, a simple kiss led to more than that, but it never got to what he’s offering. However, you can’t deny that the kiss was very hot and heavy. When the two of you broke apart, you wanted more. You didn’t want to stop. 
That was the crazy part for you. You wanted more.
“That was too soon,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “Sorry about that—just ignore what I said. I’ll see you later, okay?” Tucking his drink under his armpit, Seokjin gives you a quick smile and leaves the store, never giving you a chance to answer him. You can’t help but sigh in relief because you’re not sure what answer you’d give him. So, you continue your day with a few questions lingering in the air.
A few more hours go by when you’re finally done for the day. You gather all your belongings, say goodbye to your coworker, and head towards your car. Checking the time on your phone, you conclude that you have an hour and a half to go to your dorm, do a quick change, and meet with your friends at The Aeries for some dinner and a drink or two.
So although you shouldn’t have, you sped home in order to take a quick shower and change and sped to the restaurant to make it in time. You made it to the restaurant with two minutes to spare. You won’t do anything like that again. Your car isn’t strong enough to be speeding the streets. 
Entering the restaurant, you tell the host who you’re looking for and follow him towards the back of the restaurant where your friends are waiting. They greet you with smiles and hugs as you take a seat and place your bag next to you between you and your friend Nora in the booth. 
“So, Y/N,” Nora begins, your attention on her, “are you two a couple yet?”
“You and Seokjin. Are you a thing or what?” your friend Ella tells you with excitement in her tone.
“We just  went on a few dates,” you tell them, feeling flustered with their eyes on you. 
“Oh please. There’s no way you two aren’t a couple yet. He confesses he likes you and you obviously like him. What’s there to think about?” Cal tells you, his head shaking in disbelief at your answer.
“What makes you think I like him?” you ask. It’s only recently that you’re realizing that you’re reacting differently around him.
“Ever since you met him your eyes would light up at the sight of him. You smile so damn big—you’re like a love sick puppy,” Ella answers, leaning back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest. 
“I do not,” you argue.
“You do,” they all say, pushing your argument down real quick. 
“If you never noticed how much you’re into him, then you’re blind as hell.”
You want to argue back, but remain silent. For some reason, you feel like they’re right. Like your expression does change when he enters the store; it’s just you’re too blinded by him that you don’t even notice your demeanor changing. Giving up is the best option, so you change the subject and thankfully your friends don’t bring up your relationship with Seokjin.
The four of you exit the restaurant, chatting about what plans you have for the weekend when Seokjin’s words come back to mind. “Oh, right,” you begin, your friends stopping in their tracks as they look back towards you, “Seokjin’s frat is having their last carwash tomorrow. He’s hoping you guys go get your cars washed. The entire frat will be there, so you’ll be entertained while your car is being washed.” 
“Oh, hell yeah I’ll be there,” Cal jests, a huge smile on his face as he claps his hands in glee. “Hot guys washing my car with nothing but some loose shorts? You should have told me about it earlier. I would have gotten my car dirty everyday if it meant I got to see that view.” 
You all laugh at Cal’s comment. “I might go too, but you should go, Y/N. Seokjin will be there, and that means you’ll get to see him half naked.” Nora winks at you, and your friends laugh at most likely your shocked reaction. 
“I don’t think I’m gonna go. My car isn’t even dirty, plus water leaks in when it gets washed,” you tell them. There’s no way you can take your car.
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You’re here, and the line is long.
There are so many cars waiting to be washed it’s absolutely amazing how many people there are. There’s no way they haven’t reached their money goal yet—you can bet they made more than they need. 
Pulling your phone out of your pocket you open the group message you share with your friends. You type away when you notice they’re not here yet.
[Monday, August 30th, 1:37pm] You: Where are you guys?
You hit send and wait for a response, eyes scanning the area once more just in case you passed over them and didn’t notice. As your eyes scan the crowd of guys washing cars, some girls sitting outside their cars to watch the guys wash their cars, and even some familiar faces. Mainly the original seven… well minus Seokjin. You don’t see him anywhere. But before you can look any further for him, your phone chimes. 
[Monday, August 30th, 1:39pm] Cal: I got my car washed earlier. Haru asked me out on a date ;)
[Monday, August 30th, 1:40pm] Ella: I’m gonna be a few minutes late! Had to finish my essay
[Monday, August 30th, 1:40pm] Nora: Same!!
You give a quick understanding response before heading back to your car. You’ll just wait for them to get here so you can get your cars washed together. You don’t get close to your car when you hear Seokjin’s voice call out to you. Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see him making his way over to you. He’s smiling at you, his hair pushed back by sweat and water. He’s wearing a loose gray tank top with a sunset in the middle, black swim trunks and sandals. His arms are toned, sweat or water slowly sliding down—glistening  in the sunlight. Your heart is racing, your body getting warmer than the sun is already making it. This is bad.
“You made it,” he says when he’s within earshot. “It’ll be a while before we wash your car, so I hope you don’t mind waiting.” He raises his hand to scratch the back of his head, his arm flexing as he does so. “We’ll be as quick as we can—”
“That other option,” you interrupt, “is it still available?” You feel so embarrassed for saying that, but with the way he’s flexing his arms, the outfit, the sweat glistening! You can’t help yourself. You want to touch him, feel him—
“It is,” he tells you, voice low and husky. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. He hands it over to you and you take it in confusion. “If you keep going forward you’ll find an office. Wait for me there.” 
A chill runs down your spine as you nod, heading towards the direction Seokjin told you. You pass the lines of cars and people, the little building in sight. As you get closer, a somewhat familiar face appears before you. It’s Taehyung.
“Y/N right?” You nod in response. Taehyung holds out his hand towards you. “I’m gonna need your car keys for when it’s your turn.”
“Oh. Right,” you mumble, handing him your keys. “The top side passenger side windshield needs to have a towel pressed against it on the inside otherwise water leaks through when washing the car,” you say.
“Got it. Upper right corner.” With that, Taehyung walks away and towards a car currently being dried. 
You turn your attention back to the building and walk towards it. You put the key in the hole and turn it, the door unlocking. Opening the door you enter inside, the door closing behind you. The room is dusty with only a desk, chair and small lamp to the right while a rather big couch is to the left of the room. Across from you is a window but the black curtains are blocking the sun from entering the room. 
You step further into the room unsure of where to be at, but before you can even decide whether to stand or sit, the door behind you opens, sun spilling into the room before disappearing as the door shuts close. You hear the door locking as you turn around and see Seokjin.
His entire demeanor has changed. He stands with confidence, a dominating aura surrounds him. Your body tingles with excitement and nervousness. He walks up to you, holding up a piece of fabric in his hand. “Turn around,” he says, and your body turns on its own. As if Seokjin’s words have magic to them, controlling you. He covers your eyes and ties a small knot at the back of your head. All you see now is darkness. “Hands behind your back.” Again, you do as told and you feel what you think is rope being wrapped around your wrists, tying your hands together. 
He says nothing more and you wonder what he’s going to do next, but you take in a sharp breath when you feel his teeth against the skin of your neck. He licks the sensitive area, one hand collecting your hair. You can’t help but tilt your head back to give him more access. Not being able to see what he’s doing makes everything feel ten times better. Your sense of touch heightened.
After a few more seconds, he finally stops, letting your hair go only to grab on to your arm and slowly guide you somewhere. You take several, cautious steps before he spins you around, your back to him. You hear like a rustling sound but you can’t tell what it is. You moved to the left you believe, so you must be at the couch, and you’re right when you feel Seokjin’s hands on your hips, guiding you to sit basically at the edge of the couch, in between his legs. 
He leans you back against his chest, spreading your legs as wide as you can. You can feel his hands travel up from your legs to the buttons of your shorts. He unbuttons and unzips your shorts but doesn’t push them down. Instead, his hand slips in your underwear and between your lips. You let out a sigh, resting your head against his shoulder. His fingers move up and down between your lips, rubbing small circles on your bud every now and then. 
The build up is slow. He doesn’t work his fingers fast to get you closer, and it makes you feel impatient. You want to feel his fingers inside you—you want to feel him inside you. When his fingers rub against your bud again, a small moan escapes your mouth. Your body is finally enjoying the pleasure he’s giving, and you want more of it. 
You spread your legs wider, trying to give him as much access as you possibly can, but your shorts make it hard for his hand to move freely. However, it doesn’t seem to bother him all that much. His diligent fingers work with ease in your restricted shorts, pinching your bean, rubbing it and spreading your lips for his finger to tease your entrance. You’re moaning more and more the closer you get to coming. You’re close and he knows it.
“Seokjin,” you cry, chest heaving, hips moving along his fingers.
But he stops. He removes his fingers from your core and gets to his feet, forcing you to do the same. “Turn around,” he commands, waiting for you to do so. You do as told and you feel his hands at your shirt, unbuttoning your blouse one button at a time. When your blouse is unbuttoned he asks, “Is this your favorite bra?”
“No,” you whisper. 
You feel his fingers grab a hold of your strap before a cold object touches your skin and then there’s a pull. One strap is no longer there. You realize he used a knife to cut it. He cuts the second strap before you feel his hands at the clasps of your bra. He unclasps them and removes your bra completely from you. A little off into the distance you can hear it hit the floor. You hear another sound, this one closer; like air was pushed out of something. That can only mean Seokjin sat back down on the couch.
And you’re right when he tells you, “On your knees.” You slowly lower to your knees, your left knee bumping against his foot. “All right, baby. Open your mouth and come forward.” The word “baby” sends a tingle throughout your body. You lean your body forward a bit, your mouth opening waiting for something. Seokjin grabs your face by your chin, your heart racing as you feel something warm and hard brush against your lips. “Suck me dry, baby.” 
You stick your tongue out, feeling the skin of his shaft. You don’t hesitate to take him fully in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You hear him sigh as you bring your head back up, his tip the only thing in your mouth. Your head goes back down, your tongue swirling as you do so and you hear him groan. You continue your movements for a while, hearing him moan every time he’s fully inside your mouth. “Fuck baby, you take me so well.” He gathers your hair in his hand, holding it tightly as he pulls it back, stopping you from moving. “I can’t wait to fuck you,” he tells you, guiding you back down. He pushes your head further than what you did. Your nose touches his abdomen and you gag a bit as he keeps you there. “I want to hear you scream my name when I fuck you. I want to hear you beg me to go faster, harder.” 
He pulls your head back up and you gasp for air. You take in as much air as possible before he’s pushing you back down. “Your mouth is so warm. I could fuck your mouth all day.” When he brings your head back up, he keeps you there and thrusts his hips. You’re gagging every time he hits the back of your throat, but you want more. Your body is tingling with excitement at the sounds you’re making. The sounds he’s making. You can’t help but rub your thighs together, wanting to feel some sort of friction between your legs. “Your tits bounce so nicely, baby girl.” You want to see him. You want to see his expression, the pleasure you’re giving him. “I need to fuck your tits, baby.” He pulls out of your mouth completely, letting your hair go as he does so. 
You can hear him moving around before his hand takes a hold of your arm and lifts you to your feet. You let him guide your body to whatever position he wants. He lies you on the couch, your arms in a slightly uncomfortable position, but you don’t care. You want to hear his moans again. You feel a dip on one side of your body, right between you and the back cushion. Seokjin grabs your breasts, pushing them together before he places his penis between them. You hear him spit and you feel warmth fall on your inner left breast, sliding between his shaft and your breast. 
He begins his thrusts, and they’re not slow. He’s thrusting between your boobs like he would if he were inside you. He’s fast and has a quick rhythm. You lower your chin close to your chest and open your mouth. Seokjin takes the hint and brings himself closer, his tip barely entering your mouth when he thrusts forward. He’s cursing loud and thrusting hard. You’re honestly hoping it’ll leave bruises between your breasts. A mark of this night. A mark of a day you want to experience everyday. 
They were right. Seokjin is a dominant man. Anything he says, you must follow. There are no ifs, ands or buts with him, and you absolutely love it. However hard he is with you know, you hope the next time he’s even harder with you. You want a few bruises on your body from his touch. You want red markings on your ass cheeks from him slapping it. You want to tell him all these things, but is it too early? Will he not be into that kind of roughness?
“Fuck. Open your mouth wide, I want you to taste and swallow me,” he grunts, giving you only a few seconds to open your mouth big enough for him to enter. He deep throats you hard, the sound of his hand gripping the leather armrest invades your right ear. He moans loudly, no rhythm to his thrusts as tears prick your eyes. Your legs are rubbing together faster, wanting to feel more pleasure as he goes rigid and still. You feel his warm seed run along your tongue, building up in your mouth as he pulls out. “Open your mouth and show me, baby. Fuck you did so well.” He pinches your nipple. “Swallow.” 
You swallow, whimpering as he pinches both your nipples, his mouth against your neck once again. He bits and licks as his hands fondle your breasts. You feel his mouth lower to your boobs, taking your left breast into his mouth while the other continues to be played with. His free hand is between your legs, spreading them wide for him. He runs his fingers up and down your lips, coating them, riling you up. Finally, he inserts two digits inside you. 
“Seokjin,” you moan, feeling him push and pull his fingers inside you. Every now and then he’ll twist or curve his fingers when he pushes, and you moan louder with each twist or curl. “Please,” you beg.
Seokjin removes his mouth from your sensitive nipple. “Please what?” He curls his digits as he enters. “Tell me what you want, baby girl.” 
“P-please go faster. Please.”
He chuckles. “You want me to go faster?” You nod vigorously. “Okay, love. I’ll let you come on my fingers. Make sure you come hard though, or we’ll go for round two.” When he pulls out, he pushes in faster and rougher. You choke on air as he keeps this rough pace. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow down. You’re screaming as he thrusts his fingers in you. Your back arches, toes curl as your high gets closer. Seokjin notices how close you are and he uses his other hand to rub your clit, helping you reach nirvana faster. And you do. Your body shakes forcefully as you come. 
As your body calms, he pulls his finger out from you. Your body flinches as he does so. “That wasn’t hard enough, Y/N. I told you to come hard for me.” You feel all his weight lean back onto his knees. “You better come hard for me this time or we’ll go another round.” You honestly didn’t know what he meant by that statement until you feel the tip of his shaft push in your entrance. You gasp and moan as he pushes himself inside you. “Oh, fuck you’re tight.” He’s hard already? How can he be hard that fast?
Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to slam back into you when he pulls out. He isn’t slow or soft as he fucks you. He is quick and rough, skin slapping and loud moans fill the room immediately. His hand is on your throat, holding it tight enough to make you go crazy. 
“Fuck you feel so good. I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby. Your curves and ass made it so hard not to fuck you when we first met. You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of fucking you in the back at the store. Taking you and having you beg me to fuck you hard. To take that chance in getting caught by customers or your boss. Fuck you feel so good. I could fuck you all day, baby. I want to fuck you all day. Right here in this room. I want to be the reason you can’t walk straight. To be the reason your body is aching. Fuck.”
He pulls out, pulling you up and onto your knees. He enters himself back in again from behind, one hand holding on to your waist while the other grips on your neck and pulls your head back with his lips pressed against your ear. He continues his hard fucking. You’re yelling at this point, feeling him hit your spot every time. You’ve already had small orgasms, your body unable to keep up with him as he continues to fuck you. 
“Let me fuck you all day. You can come to my place and let me fuck you senseless. I want to go dry in you. Can I fuck you like that? Hmm baby? Let me fuck you like that,” he moans in your ear, making you go crazy.
“Yes,” you cry. “Please fuck me like that.” 
“Oh, I will. I’ll have you begging for more each time I make you come. I need to see you—you better come hard or we’ll go again.” Much to your dismay, he pulls out and turns you back around, back to your original position. He pulls your blindfold down and you blink to clear your vision. When you do, you see him so clearly. He’s sweating. Drenched in sweat, and looking so amazing. His body is toned and glistening in sweat. 
He pushes himself back inside you fast, keeping that pace. You cry out, back arching as he slams into you. “Oh fuck, baby I’m close. You’re so tight,” he grunts, spreading your legs wider for him.
“I’m coming,” you choke, stars invading your vision. 
“Come for me,” he says, one hand going back down to our clit and making small, fast movements against it. You scream his name as you come, and as you look at him, you realize he made you squirt. You come hard, your juices hitting against his skin. “There you go baby—fuck,” he moans, his thrusts no longer in a rhythm as you feel his seed enter you. He stills for a moment, the two of you breathing heavily before he pulls out, your body flinching. 
There’s a knock at the door. Both of you look towards it and Seokjin speaks up, “Looks like your car is ready for you.” You look to him and he looks down at you. “The frat is having a party tonight if you want to come.” He scans your body. “I could go for round three tonight.” 
You go to the party that night, wearing a long sleeved shirt because the rope left its marking on your wrists. And that night you had round three. This time he was a lot more rougher with you. He left his markings on plenty of spots on your body, but you’re not complaining.
574 notes · View notes
jimlingss · 5 months ago
the end.
➜ Words: 31k
➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Angst
➜ Summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.
➜ Notes: Loosely inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before
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The end is nearly here.   You spare a glance at the clock on the wall before your hands continue to sprint across the computer keyboard. It’s another late night at the office — lower back aching, eyes burning from the screen, third cup of coffee by your side. The only thing that’s keeping you sane is knowing that each minute that ticks by is a minute closer to you getting out of here.   Your wish is eventually granted when the document’s finished and you’re able to click save.   “Heading out too, Y/N?”   Your coworker’s securing her purse over her shoulder as you stand and stretch from your cubicle. “Yeah, I think so. I managed to finish the report I was working on just now.”   “They’re working us like we’re dogs,” she sighs in exasperation. “This is the fourth time this week we’ve had to stay until nine. It’s getting ridiculous. I can’t wait until next week.”   “What’s next week?”   “The Fresno branch is closing, remember?” she says, and you blink owlishly, not sure how that affects you at all. Your brain is beyond singed at this point to figure it out yourself, but she spares you when she quickly elaborates, “We’re getting a bunch of new transfers — at least that’s what I heard. But you know what that means? We get to share the work, so that’ll be a lot less work for us.”   “Oh, that makes sense.”   The older woman takes her coat with her as her wrinkled eyes sparkle. “We can dump everything to the newbies and finally relax, Y/N. Up for sneaking out for a mid-day spa retreat?”   You laugh. “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.”   It seems like the others are finished with their work as well. By the time you’ve shut off the computer and gathered your belongings, the office is being closed up and some lights flicker off.   “Hey Y/N,” someone else calls. A group of your colleagues linger at the entrance. “You wanna go out for a drink? We’re thinking of heading down the street to Dog World for their happy hour.”   A faint smile tugs on your features, but you shake your head. “It’s alright. I’m a bit tired, so I think I’ll call it an early night, but thank you.”   Even though you looked forward to the work day being over, the trip home is even more exhausting. Luckily, the train ride is short. You keep to yourself, leaning against the windows, looking out at the night city view that whisks past in a mosaic of blurry colours. The walk to the apartment doesn’t take long either. It’s brisk and you enjoy the cool air against your cheeks.   When you finally get inside, you toss the keys onto the counter and kick off your shoes.   Usually, you’d head straight for the shower and change into comfortable pajamas. Or, if you’re hungry enough, you’d eat something quick while watching the news that would eventually fade into the background. But today is special.   Today, you beeline straight for the fridge.   You take the cake box out and set it onto the counter. You had picked it out and bought it at the grocery store earlier in the week — a vanilla funfetti cake without design but a few rainbow sprinkles on top of the white icing.   At this age, birthdays aren’t really a big deal.   You didn’t bother telling your coworkers. It’s not like you could sneak it into a casual conversation and even if you did, you didn’t want to stand there awkwardly for their congratulations. They wouldn’t sing for you either and god forbid they did. But you did get a phone call from your mom earlier, a few messages from friends living far away, and an obligatory text from your cousin.   Still, even if there’s no one physically here, you want to celebrate your birthday by yourself.   You open the kitchen drawer for candles, scrambling through elastic bands and oven mitts. But you come up empty. You search through the next drawer and a cupboard, but with little success.   On the search for candles, you head to the closet in the hall. It’s where you store your mop, vacuum and a bunch of other belongings. You’re sure you have candles somewhere in this place — and you’re not wrong. You spot a small box of them on the top shelf.   On the tips of your toes, you reach for them. You manage to snag them by the tips of your fingers. But as you swipe them down, another box that was haphazardly thrown by the corner edge comes tumbling down.   It nearly hits your head. But you dodge with a sharp inhale. The lid flips off.    And the contents are spilled across the floor.    There are six envelopes.    But they’re all different, from their colour to their time periods. There’s one with a swallow bird sticker, another in a blush pink envelope, one that’s a baby blue square envelope no doubt taken from a card store, and another has gel pen doodled hearts on the front.   They’re your old love letters. Letters that you never intended to send, but just for you to vent your feelings. They’re no less than diary entries but in the form of love letters.   And you scoff lightly with a smile, quickly coming to collect them as nostalgia hits you hard.   To the one who’s taken my heart,   I like you, so so so much. I don’t think you’ll ever know just how much. I think about you all the time and I wish you thought about me too but I know you don’t—   You stop reading when the cringe becomes too much, and you fold the letter again to slip it back in its envelope. But as much as it provides you second-hand embarrassment now, you remember those days. When you were so overwhelmed with your feelings. When the world felt so rose-coloured. When you didn’t know what to do with yourself. When you were excited to wake up every single morning in the hopes you’d see them — whoever it was at the time.   Now, the silence of your apartment seems even more deafening.    You’re alone.   You bring everything over to the small coffee table in your living room — cake, letters, a wine glass and bottle. You pour yourself an entire glass and gulp down a mouthful of the dry wine before placing a single candle in the center of the small cake.   The lighter sparks with a single flick of your thumb against the wheel. You light the tip of the candle.    In the darkness of your apartment and the street lights casting dimly through the windows, the tiny flame glows warmly against your features.   “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Y/N…” you murmur the song to yourself, singing quietly for no one else but your own ears. “Happy birthday to you.”   You take another long sip of the red wine, letting your body become warm under the intoxication. The six letters are discarded by your side — six of them — six different people who probably don’t even remember who you are, much less know that you still think of them.    And the biggest irony of all is that you’re ultimately alone. None of these six people, who you liked enough to write a letter about, are with you. You wasted it all. Your time. Your affections.   Thirty years of your life has come and gone, and you haven’t had a real, meaningful relationship.   Thirty whole years. And not a single person you can call yours.   You finally blow out the flickering candle and make your single wish.    It’s murmured through timidly parted lips, the one hope you have, a singular ache that can be summed into five words—   “I wish I wasn’t alone.”   The smoke rises. You drink, eat your cake, and spend your birthday by yourself.   Eventually, you pass out drunk on the sofa. The cake is half-eaten, wine bottle half-finished, your glass fallen by your side, empty with any remaining drops stained on your lips. The exhaustion of the day, of the entire week, washes over you and you snore, chest rising and falling, dreaming of better days and nights. You sleep so soundly that—   “Y/N.”   There’s a soft, distant call of your name through a silken, smooth voice. It reminds you of someone trying to coo an infant awake. It’s such a delicate tone. It’s nice. Soothing.   “Y/N.”   You stir as the sound becomes louder and your brows furrow for a second. You’re too crippled by exhaustion, so you ignore the noise in hopes it’ll go away and you can continue sleeping.   “Y/N.”   But thrice is enough for your lashes to flutter, for your eyes to open in slight annoyance. And the moment your pupils land on the thing in front of you, your tired yawn is broken by a bloodcurdling scream.   He— the thing— whatever it is, winces. And then the corner of its, his—, mouth curls into a sweet smile.   “Hi.”   The single syllable is spoken almost breathlessly. Faintly.   You’re shocked sober and you gawk. It’s a him. A handsome man in dark pants and a cozy brown coat, but his entire body, from the top of his head to his toes, he’s translucent. Like some kind of ghost.   The ghost-like man gazes at you.   There’s a held silence.   Then you shake your head. You shut your eyes again and sink back into the sofa. “This is a dream.”   “It’s not,” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open again.   Oh fuck. Since when did people, ghosts, things in dreams respond to you?!    You’re not a lucid dreamer. This isn’t normal. “What are you? The ghost of my Christmas past?!” You look at him skeptically, scrambling back as if that’s enough to protect yourself.   “Not quite.” He grins, sheepish brown eyes glimmering with mischief. “I’m Seokjin. But you can just call me Jin. I’m here to grant your birthday wish.”   There’s another pause. You’re not sure you heard right. “My birthday wish?”   “Yes, siree! I heard it loud and clear and I’m here to answer your prayers! Think of me like a birthday fairy or something like….your guardian angel?”    His plump lips make the perfect ‘u’ shape and his cheeks, reminiscent of bread, puff out. When he tilts his head, some baby hairs from his black, styled hair fall in front of his forehead. At this moment, he looks more cute than handsome. But there’s no time to admire his appearance.   You’re taken off guard, speechless and blank.   The one brain cell in your brain works hard to try to understand what’s going on. But it’s starting to die from over exhaustion and your mouth ends up uttering the same thing like a broken record—    “My….birthday wish?”   “You don’t want to be alone, right?” Seokjin grins again. “I can grant that for you. I can alter your life however you want.”   Suddenly, the six envelopes fly off the table towards him and he snags them in mid-air. He looks at you shrewdly and mischievously. “You can be with any of your lovers.”   You sputter on your own spit. “They weren’t my lovers!”   “Not yet.” Jin winks. “Tonight, that changes.”   Instantaneously, you get onto your feet and step back, mortified by those words, like he’s about to do something. You’re not sure what. But one thing’s for sure— “I’m not going anywhere!”   Jin sighs with his mouth still upturned, and he dramatically pinches the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”   In a panic, you grab the first thing in reach. Your table lamp. And you point it at him. Menacingly, or at least you try to be.   Jin just looks amused. “What are you going to do with that?”   “I’ll throw it at you.”   He points. “It’s still connected to the outlet.” Shit. “And it’ll go through me anyway.”    “I-I’ll call the police on you!” you spit out frantically. “I’ll tell them there’s an intruder in my apartment!”   He quirks his head to his shoulder and crosses his arms. “How will they arrest me if you’re the only one who can see me? They’ll think you’re a nutjob.”   Your breaths pull in and out from your lungs and you take your right hand to pinch the skin of your left arm that’s still holding the lamp. It hurts.   “I already said this wasn’t a dream,” Jin pipes up as he’s watching you. He looks like he’s holding back laughter. “We already established that, remember?”   Slowly, you set the lamp down. He looks at you, expecting you to concede. But then you turn around and try to bang your head against the wall. Lightly. But enough to make an impact. Whether that’ll make your hallucination go away or you’ll be put into a coma, it doesn’t matter.    But what you’re left with is a small bruise on your forehead and Seokjin, your so-called guardian angel, still standing in the middle of your living room judging you with an incredulous expression.   He sighs. “Look, you’re just going to have to trust me. I’m the ghost of Christmas-whatever future and I’ve seen what’s in store for you.” He points at your face, right between your eyes. “I’m saving you from having to spend the rest of your pathetic life alone, so really, you should be thanking me.”   He waits — as if expecting for you to actually thank him.   Instead, you mutter to yourself. “I must’ve gone crazy.”   You wonder if this is all a hallucination or if your wine was spiked with some kind of drug.   “Yeah, well, you’re about to drive me nuts too.” Jin softly exhales and shakes his head. “Always the overthinker, aren’t you, Y/N? You can never enjoy anything without souring it for yourself but fear not! I’m here to make it all better.”   With a grin, he fans out the six envelopes and plucks one out. “This one!”    It’s satin black. Nameless. The flap still open.   Time suspends and a violent wind suddenly whips through the strands of your hair. It howls, a whirlwind storm that tears the air away from your lungs as you sharply inhale. You watch as the love letter burns in the air. The corners morph into shades of tangerine and crimson, curling and singing before the ash crumbles off and floats there. The world around you begins to transform, the apartment washing away like watercolours on an empty, white canvas. Everything whisks past in a mosaic of blurry colours, reminding you of being on a bullet train that’s darting to some place else.    “Where are you taking me?!” you shout above the noise. “What’s happening?”   “You’ll see.” Jin holds your gaze and smiles. “I’ll make any of these a reality for you.”   You want to curse him, demand answers, and escape all at once. But the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a pitched scream as the gust becomes so harsh, you can barely open your eyes. You try to cover your face with your arms, but it’s a mistake. You lose balance and fall back onto your ass.    At the same time, two things register.   One. You’re no longer in your apartment — you’re in an office.   White walls, glass everywhere, windows enormous. The clock on the wall reads ten thirty at night and the unfamiliar place is modern, sleek and pristine. It’s nothing like the office you work at which is warm toned, carpeted and cozier.   Two. Your ass hurts. It throbs with any movement.   This realization rejects both your theories. This definitely isn’t a dream, and you aren’t just hallucinating. You’re not in your small apartment anymore, tucked into the living room space.    This is all real.   Your shock and approaching meltdown are interrupted by the ghostly man who’s leaned over with eyes enlarged. “Are you alright?” You blink back at him without answer and he offers his hand out.    You take it. His translucent skin feels cool and light against yours, without much weight or any discernible texture. It’s as if at any second, he could suddenly no longer be tangible or visible to you.   You stagger back up again. “Where the hell am I?!”   Jin hums and looks around inquisitively.    Then, he shrugs. “I don’t know.”   “What do you mean ‘I don’t know?’,” you spit at him. You were just kidnapped from your own home by some magical ghost guardian who thinks he’s the funniest person in the room and he doesn’t know where he brought you?!   You’re about to give into the urge and scream. But then you hear a familiar voice coming from the other end of the room—   It’s your own.   It feels like you’re having an out-of-body experience and maybe you are because you see yourself. Dressed in a black power suit, heels clacking against the white-tiled floors, hair drawn back into a swinging ponytail. Behind you, there’s a younger girl in a pencil skirt trying to keep up with your strides.   You step back, brows furrowed, shock overtaking your frame.   You look at yourself in the suit and then to the ghostly man beside you. “W-Who the hell is that?”   Jin’s eyes glimmer and the corner of his plump lip curls. “By the looks of it, it’s you.”   “What’s that supposed to mean? How’s that me? I-I’m me.”   “You could say we’re in something like an alternate timeline, a possible option you can choose from. So technically, it is you. Another version of you. And a you that you can become, if you want.”   You barely manage to grasp onto what he’s saying, but you quickly turn back to the you in the power suit who’s so different in the way she’s dressed, the way she looks, and the way she presents herself, that it’s almost like it’s no longer you. Another version of yourself, huh?   It’s surreal.   For one, you didn’t know your ass could look so good in a power suit.   Jin must notice as well since he tries to whistle lowly and comments, “Damn, you look so good.”   You flash him a scandalized expression. “Don’t check me out.”   He laughs and puts his hands up. “Hey, it’s technically you, but also not you.”   The you in the power suit— she — doesn’t notice you. She beelines straight through your body and you stumble back with a gasp, looking down at your hands in dread. It’s translucent.   “Don’t worry,” Jin reassures. “She can’t see you and you can't do anything.”   “This isn’t permanent, right?”   He grins. “Not for you, it isn’t.”   With that assurance in mind, you follow after her, passing straight through the wall as if it wasn’t there and entering a huge office. There are two cream sofas and a mahogany coffee table taking up space by the entrance, the window at the back stretched for the entire wall, and the floor and desk are made of marble.   Boss-Y/N grabs her fur coat off the corner hanger and begins to put it on.   The younger girl presses on the bluetooth earpiece in her left ear and confirms, “The chauffeur’s waiting in the lobby, ma’am.”    “Rearrange my schedule for me, will you? I want the morning to be cleared up.”   “Right away.” The assistant scribbles furiously on her clipboard and when she’s done, she eases into a smile. “Congratulations again on your birthday, ma’am.”   She takes her Birkin onto her arm and she sighs with a soft smile. “Well, I’m not so sure I’m happy to be turning thirty.”   “That’s not old at all,” the assistant reassures.   “You don’t think my wrinkles are starting to show?”   “Not at all!”   She has a slight mischievous glint in her eyes, seemingly satisfied with the compliment. “Good. If my skin care regiment isn’t working, then I would have to start suing some folks. God knows it costs an arm and a leg.”   “I can arrange that for you,” the assistant quips and grins as she does. “Do you have any birthday plans?”   “Well, I’m just heading home first.” Her heels clip-clop against the ground as she makes her way to the door. “Then I’m going to dinner with Yoongi.”   “Yoongi?” The soft whisper escapes your lips, brows furrowing hard. There’s no way—   “It’s the first time that workaholic is taking a break from running that hedge fund of his,” she continues, and you follow after them as they stride down the office floor. “I had to fight tooth and nail for it.”   The assistant smiles, eyes sparkling with slight envy. “I’m sure your husband will appreciate it.”   Boss-Y/N returns the smile. “Hopefully.”   “I hope you have a good night, ma’am.” The assistant presses the elevator button and the door parts. “Out of all of us, you deserve it.”   The you in the suit steps inside the elevator, appreciation evident on her features. “Take it easy too.”   The doors shut and the assistant turns on her toes to get back to her desk. You’re left behind with Seokjin next to you.    The corners of his mouth are upturned, and he glances at your expression. “Looks like you became successful. Whoever this Yoongi guy is, he must’ve helped you out.”   “This is impossible,” you spit, spinning to face him straight on. “Yoongi- Yoongi was an older senior at the internship I had when I just finished college. I was like….what? Twenty two?”   “Did you date?” he asks, curious.   You scoff, quickly shaking your head. “No.” Your voice softens, “He was too intimidating for that. I just had a crush on him.”   Yoongi worked in a different department than the one you were assigned to, but you saw him enough to know he was no-nonsense and strict. He even berated another intern for a mistake one time, and you recall ducking your head and getting out of the hall fast. Not to mention, he was thirty at the time — established, experienced — and you were barely into your mid-twenties.    You felt worlds apart from him.   But you always admired his worth ethic and ambition. He was someone reliable. Loyal. Yoongi accomplished what you had envisioned for yourself, and you respected him and the way he carried himself. You still remember watching him in the background during meetings, during presentations, or when he would pass by your desk. He was an all around stand-up guy.    “You had a big enough crush on him to write a whole love letter,” Jin comments with a brow raise.   You lightly scoff. “It’s not like I was ever going to give it to him. I was just...stressed and I had to vent out my feelings. It was nothing serious.” You exhale, voice quieting. “I just really admired him.”   “Well, looks like if you had given him that letter, this would’ve been the reality. The two of you make for an ambitious couple,” Seokjin muses, looking around the modern office one more time before he holds his hand out in front of you.    You look back at him. “What?”   Jin smiles. “Well, you want to see what happens next, right?”   He’s right. You do want to see what happens. The curiosity of this adventure has long surmounted any fears. But you still hesitate lifting your arm and slipping your hand inside Seokjin’s. Eventually, when you do, you shut your eyes tightly and your body goes rigid.   You’re unaware of Seokjin’s amused smile. Not when you’re bracing yourself for another stormy wind.    But when nothing happens, you peel your eyes open and find yourself standing in a penthouse.   Immediately, a gasp pulls through your lips. If you thought the office was fancy, then this place was on a whole nother plane of existence. Marble floors and white columns. Golden curtains and rugs. Porcelain vases and display cabinets. Crystal chandeliers hanging from high ceilings.   Everything oozes of wealth, extravagance and luxury.   You lurch towards the glass windows overlooking the heart of New York. The windows take up the entire wall without a single smudge, so clean it looks like you could fall straight through. At the same time, with the penthouse being so high up, the night view of the city isn’t obstructed by the surrounding skyscrapers. You even spot the Empire State building in the distance.   The twinkling lights reflect back into your irises.    The mosaic of colours blur together — car lights, street lamps, stop lights, incandescent bulbs inside office buildings and apartment rooms. The view is absolutely breathtaking.   Slowly, you turn around, meeting Seokjin’s gaze. “ my place? Am I really this rich?”   His mouth is tugged, having watched your reaction. “Looks like it.”   Just then, your eyes wander, and your feet scatter over to the white marble fireplace. Above the mantle hangs a wedding picture of you and Yoongi. You can’t believe it’s you — looking past your lashes with a shy smile, dressed in a white ballgown with a translucent veil draped over your shoulders and behind your frame. And Yoongi has his arms wrapped around you. He’s clad in a tuxedo, dark hair styled, and an infectious, gummy smile stretched into his tender cheeks.   He’s as handsome as you remember him as.   “Did he really influence me to become so successful?” you murmur in wonderment, still staring up at the perfect picture. “My, it’s just so different.”   The both of you seem to be such a young and successful pair. A power couple. Like all the people you read about in the magazines that you envy.    It’s a dream.   “You’d be surprised at how people influence each other,” Jin hums and you turn to him.    “Why are you doing this? What am I supposed to do with all this information?”   “Think of it as window shopping,” he says simply, “You get to choose who you want to be with. This just happens to be one of the options.”   You’re not sure if you want to believe Seokjin, but he hasn’t been wrong so far. Any of his claims, he’s proven it right in front of your eyes. “Can you really make all of this real?”   He smiles again. “If that’s what you want.”   The elevator doors part. And she emerges with a long sigh and her hair looking more disheveled. She puts her purse down and calls out— “Yoongi?”   Silence answers.   She frowns. “Must be traffic,” she mutters and walks over to her open kitchen.   You watch as the you in the power suit opens the fridge and pours herself a glass of red wine. A small smile comes onto your face as you muse that some things never change.   “Alexa. Turn on something classical,” she says and the device on the island counter whirls blue before turning on an elegant piano piece that fills the penthouse.    In the meanwhile, you continue looking around — at the ornate decorations, pictures, to marveling at how high the ceilings are and how amazing the view is. Then, both you and the alternate you turn your heads when the elevator door dings, signalling someone’s arrival.   You watch as she steps forward, eyes brightened with what you only guess is the expectation and excitement that her husband will appear. But instead, it’s the old doorman.   “Ma’am, you have a delivery.”   He hands her a bouquet of flowers and she sets down her wine glass to take them, arms becoming overwhelmed with how massive it is. It nearly covers her entire face. “Thank you.”   He bows his head and turns back into the elevator, taking his leave. The doors close.   You follow after her in awe. It’s a large bouquet of perfect red roses with fully bloomed petals, practically overflowing. It looks like something straight out of a movie and there’s at least a hundred of them.   She sets them down on the counter and plucks a black card lodged inside the bouquet.   You read over her shoulder and you’re taken aback by the single word handwritten on it—   Sorry.   You wince when she suddenly crumples the note in her hand, and she interrupts the calming classical piano piece with a wavering voice. “Alexa. Call Min Yoongi.”   It repeats, “Calling.” And then it dials.   The ringing lasts for a whole twenty seconds, long enough that the anticipation swells in the pit of your stomach but finally, it’s picked up.    A deep, husky voice comes from the other side. “Hello? Y/N?”   You turn to her and she waits in bated breath before a staggering exhale escapes her. Her arms wrap around herself, cradling her body and she steps towards the windows to look at the view. She’s shrouded in the darkness of the living room, barring the dim light coming from the kitchen which merely outlines her frame.   The you in this world is surprising. You’re wealthy, fierce, someone’s boss. But in this moment, you’re met with a much more familiar sight. Someone you recognize more as yourself.   Her voice cracks when her lips part— “Why are you not coming home?”   Yoongi sighs for an extended moment. There’s nothing but silence that follows.   “I’m sorry,” he eventually murmurs. “I can’t make it. I’m held up here. I have to finish before I get home.”   “This happens every day,” she says, louder, angrier.    “It’s not like I can change it.”   You watch yourself, the glistening in your eyes, the downturn of your lips and the furrow of your brows. She’s hurt and she whispers, “You’re barely home, Yoongi.”   “I know. I promise after this project, there'll be more time.”   “You say that every time!”   “That’s not true.”   “What about when you finished the Taiwan trip?” She turns to look at the black device on the kitchen counter, as if that could substitute for looking at him, for him being there and talking to her in person. “What about the whole shareholder meeting at the end of March?!”   Yoongi’s breathing is heard on the other line. He’s quiet. “I’m sorry.”   She crumples, placing her face within her hands, entire form trembling. “I don’t want to fight. I-I don’t want to blame you. I’m just...upset. You promised we would spend my birthday together. We made a deal. Did that mean nothing to you?”   Her voice quivers and there’s another long silence.   “I don’t know what I can do.”   “You can come home.”   Yoongi sighs. “I can’t.”   “I barely see you, Yoongi. I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” she admits in a murmur, downcast eyes staring at the floor. She comes over to the sofa and collapses down, still holding herself. “I’m so...tired. I’m so tired of having to keep up with you.”   Yoongi’s voice is gentle and he coaxes his wife, “Just wait a little longer.”   “For what? So, we can finally have kids?”   He exhales an entire breath. “Y/N, we already talked about this.”   “I want to settle down, Yoongi. I want to make a home.”   “We’re still young. We have time and business is not steady enough yet but—”   “It’ll never be steady enough!”   “Y/N.” A pause. He’s about to say something. She sits on the edge of the seat, waiting too, looking up into the kitchen with anticipation. But it never comes. “I have to go.”   “Then go.”   “I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice is deep, husky. “I love you.”   The call ends.   You’re at a standstill, kept quiet, having watched the scene unfold in front of you.    Jin is the first one to break the silence. “Well, looks like it’s not all roses and butterflies. I guess this is what happens when people’s visions for the future aren’t the same.”   “I spent my birthday alone again,” you murmur, looking at her. She’s sitting alone in the dark, nursing a headache on the couch as the silence of the empty penthouse becomes deafening.    What’s the point of all this wealth if you’re alone?   The corner of Jin’s mouth tugs, eyes still shimmering with hopefulness. “This doesn’t have to be the path you choose. You still have five more choices.”   Seokjin’s arm extends. He holds his hand out. You look at it and he explains, “I don’t want you to fall on your ass again.”   You scoff, but still slip your palm into his anyway.   Suddenly, in Jin’s other hand, the five other envelopes manifest and he fans them out in front of you as if asking you to pick a card for some kind of magic trick. On a whim, you choose the white envelope with a swallow bird sticker, already knowing who it is.   Jin lets go and the envelope floats away. It combusts in mid-air, edges flaming crimson and scarlet and curling inwards before the black ash crumbles off and the flecks start to trickle down. You brace yourself and the world you’re in begins to stitch apart. The form of your lonesome self on the sofa fades and the howling wind tears through your hair, whistling in your ears. It feels like you’re being lodged forward, thrown on a bullet train heading to somewhere. Fast enough that the colours and the universe itself blurs. Luckily, you aren’t knocked over this time when you’re holding onto Seokjin, but your eyes are still forced shut.   At the same time, the love letter is granted.    The present alters.   When you open your eyes, you get whiplash. You would’ve thought you returned to your apartment if not for the slight differences in layout and furniture.   Jin still holds your hand, but you let go in favour of taking a closer look at the photographs on the shelf and the walls of the modest place. There are pictures of a very familiar boy — except he’s grown to become a man. Sharp jawline and nose, but still those bright eyes and heart-shaped smile.   Seokjin comes beside you. “Who’s this?”   “Hoseok,” you exhale softly, marveling at the photographs as the nostalgia sinks into you and leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth. “He’s someone I met in college.”   Jung Hoseok was somewhere between a friend and an acquaintance. Someone older, but only by two years. You remember the first few times you saw him, you thought he was the typical frat boy — sociable, boisterous, friendly. But really, Hoseok was just a social butterfly, weaving through different groups. One night, you'd see him at a frat party and the next afternoon, you saw him at the chess club. He made everyone feel included and comfortable.    It’s no wonder you were deeply infatuated with him for a while.   The only problem was his closeness to you was the same as everyone else’s. The special treatment you received was never special.    And you were never able to go on a date with him or give him the letter you wrote on a drunken night before his graduation. But you suppose this is what your present might’ve looked like had you given him that letter.   “I didn’t know you were so adventurous.”   Jin’s nose is practically grazing the picture of you skydiving. Beside that one is a shot of you and Hoseok preparing to zipline and another of you two in the midst of bungee jumping. You study a photograph of you in front of the Eiffel Tower, one in Japan and the other of Hoseok hugging you in the Bahamas. Some of the pictures have people in them that you don’t recognize.   “I didn’t think I was either,” you murmur.   This Y/N looks more like yourself than the last. But at the same time, it’s different somehow.   For one, you can’t believe this version of yourself has been to so many places. You’ve always wanted to go, to travel this much, but you’ve never had anyone to go with. Yet, in this timeline, you’ve done so many things. You’ve had so many amazing, memorable adventures.   Jin’s brow raises at the picture of you and Hoseok kissing at the Eiffel. But then he bursts out laughing at the photograph of you looking out of your mind on a roller coaster. It’s the kind of picture that captures people right before the main descent.    “Yeah, yeah, I know I’m pretty attractive, aren’t I?” Your voice drips of sarcasm and you give him a deadpan look.   Jin’s smile stretches into his cheeks. “No, it’s cute.”   Before you can call Jin out for his blatant lie, you’re interrupted by two others.   “—so much fun! Come on, baby.”   The bedroom door opens and the noises that were muffled floods into the open living room area.    This other you looks like you, except she’s decked out in comfortable pajamas, which you envy. You wish you changed before all this happened and Jin appeared in your living room but alas, you’re stuck in your office attire of your white blouse and pencil skirt that you’ve been wearing all day.   “Don’t ‘baby’ me. I don’t want to go to a club for my birthday, Hoseok.”   Said man emerges and you consider how he’s aged well. His dark hair is styled in a way that shows a part of his forehead and his style is ever the same, jeans and a denim jacket open with a yellow shirt underneath. It’s surreal to have someone who was faded in your memory reappear in front of you again.    It reminds you of those college days, of running across campus, trying to finish assignments and study for exams while secretly pining for the boy who always waved and smiled at you as he passed by.   “But I have nothing else planned,” Hoseok whines.   She quirks her head and gives an incredulous look. “Why on earth do you think I’d want to go party at thirty.”   Hoseok laughs and takes her hands before mustering a cute pout. “You’re not that old. Come on.”   “This is stupid. It’s not like I’m twenty anymore.”   His arms lift to place on her shoulders and he gazes affectionately at her. “What would you rather be doing then?”   “I don’t know.” She softens with a soft sigh, looking back at him. “We can just stay home together. We don’t have to do much. It can be just us.”   “But that’s so boring.”   “What about tomorrow morning? We have brunch with your mom and we still have to run a bunch of errands afterwards. We can’t be nursing a hangover, Hobi.”   “We won’t drink much, and we can come home in two hours.” He hums and leans into her with glimmering irises and an infectious smile. She pouts at him and he presses his forehead to hers. “We’ll just hang out and meet new people. It’ll be nice. Promise.”   She sighs again and as if he knows she’s already given in, he laughs and moves to peck her cheek.    At the same time, Jin scoffs. “Gee, I’d love to go to a club for my birthday.”   You elbow him, having watched the cute exchange with increasing fondness. “Hey, at least they’re spending it together. And who knows? Maybe it’ll be fun.”   “Yeah, we’ll see.” Jin gives you a skeptical yet playful look and then holds out his hand.    You take it, slipping your hand into his as if you were shaking it, and instantaneously, the pair of you are transported to the so-called club. There’s no letter burning, no violent storm or wind, but you jolt from the booming music. It rattles your aged eardrums and as your surroundings materialize, you feel the floor trembling from the bass. The darkness sets in as well, but the neon pink and blue strobe lights burn to the back of your eyelids, and the odor of spilled alcohol and sweat from the thick crowd of dancing bodies slams into you.   You haven’t been to a club since your early twenties.   Jin grimaces and looks over at the bar. “I wish I had a drink! Too bad I’m a ghost!” he shouts above the music, leaning over to your ear.   Your vocal cords feel like it’s tearing as you try to scream above the thumping bass. “I thought you said you were my guardian angel!”   “Tomato tomato!” His head nods to the bar and you follow him, walking straight through the drunken bodies grinding on one another. It’s nice not having to excuse yourself and shuffle through the crowds, probably one of the few perks of being ghostly.    Once you get to the bar, it’s at least a bit quieter, enough to have conversations without needing to yell.   “Well, there’s not a better time to dance since there’s no one watching.”   You shake your head. “I’m not much of a dancer. Are you?”   Seokjin laughs, the corner of his mouth curled. “The best I can do is the worm. Want to see?”   You lift your hand, politely rejecting the offer and he grins. “It’s your loss then.”   “I’ll just trust you. I’m sure you can tear up the dance floor.”   “—and tear my left calf muscle,” he adds humorously, and you snort. Jin looks off and his eyes brighten. “Oh, looks like you’re here.”   You follow his line of sight, finding yourself in a little black dress with heels. But instead of looking hot or cute, the dress looks too small and outdated. Especially with the way you’re tugging awkwardly on the hem and darting your eyes everywhere as if you’re embarrassed.   Hoseok is in the same clothes as before and he looks around. When it seems like he won’t be able to get a seat at the bar, he snags a small standing table. “I’ll go get us a drink. Let me surprise you.”   “Okay.” She smiles and Hoseok returns it affectionately.    He leans in to peck a quick kiss on her cheek. “Happy birthday, babe.”   Hoseok leaves to the bar and she stands there, tapping her fingernails on the table. It takes a long time for him to return and she checks her phone periodically before looking around for Hoseok, unknowing to how you and Jin are beside her, technically keeping her company.    “I think you’ve been ditched,” Jin quips after ten minutes and you scoff in offence.   “No way. Hoseok’s not like that.”   You can’t help but turn over your shoulder and let your eyes search for the dark-haired male amongst the crowd. You don’t realize how comical it looks for you and this alternate you to both be beside each other with your pupils darting all over the place, looking for him.   Jin raises a brow. “It sounds like you know him well.”   “He’s just not the type,” you tell him curtly.   Eventually, after another five long minutes, Hoseok comes back and you breathe a sigh of relief, glad you weren’t wrong. You even flash Jin a look as if to say ‘see?’ but he still has an unimpressed, disbelieving expression.   As if to make matters worse, Hoseok doesn’t return with just drinks. He has new people in tow.   “Hey, babe!”   The you in the black dress is visibly taken off guard, but she still offers a polite smile. “These are...?”   “They’re new friends I made! We were just chatting at the bar. This is Maddie, Alex, Mark, Sana and Ren. They’re out celebrating since they just finished some project—”   “Psych Two Fourteen language development! Fuck yes!” One of them hollers and she winces from the noise. Two of the boys start to chant out their college slogan, but it’s so drunkenly jumbled over the pounding music that even you don’t know what they’re saying.   “Sorry, how old…”   “Just turned twenty one!” The young girl to the left giggles, holding up her cosmopolitan as her breasts nearly pop out from her red bodycon dress.   “Congratulations, by the way! It’s your birthday, right?!” One of them pipes up, swinging an arm over the other girl’s shoulder. “It’s pretty dope that you’re married and all and still out living it up!”   She cringes but nevertheless nods, downing her drink the minute it’s in her hand.   Even if no one can see you and you’re merely a spectator, even you feel awkward with this situation. And it only gets worse when Hoseok turns his back to her, caught up in conversation with the college kids and too busy chatting with them to notice how she’s left out, fiddling with her hands in her lap and once in a while, sipping on her drink quietly.   As you watch the ordeal, slightly mortified for this alternate version of yourself, you also feel Seokjin’s gaze on you. It screams of ‘who’s right, now? Huuuuh?’. But you don’t look at him.   Hoseok does, however, turn around after a few minutes. “Is everything okay?”    He’s both curious and concerned with how silent she is, and his softened, perceptive eyes search her expression. Hoseok reaches for her hand underneath the table, squeezing it and she musters a smile. “I’m fine.”    “You sure?”   “Yeah. I’m just glad you’re having fun.”   “We should dance!” one of them shouts, glancing over the group as well as her and Hoseok. The others agree immediately, downing their drinks and one by one, they scatter onto the floor.   Hoseok looks at her but she puts up her hand. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”   “Are you sure?” His brows furrow and his mouth lopsided in a small pout. “Come join me. It’ll be fun!”   She shakes her head, faint smile tugging on her lips. “I’m gonna finish my drink and someone needs to save the table too. Go ahead. You know I love watching you dance.”   With that reassurance said, Hoseok leaves and hits the dance floor where he shines the brightest. They make room for him, some hooting and hollering and he grins, letting loose. Meanwhile, the you in the black dress stands there at the table, watching Hoseok with a smile until it eventually fades away.   She’s left standing there alone. Bored. Dissociating.    It’s almost like some things never change — you and Hoseok seem to be in different dimensions, a secret distance forged and caused by the difference of your personalities.    You watch her in the loud club, carefully observing her blank expression, catching the neon pink and blue lights flashing her form for mere moments as the bass shakes the floor and four walls.    You’re not sure this is the person you want to be.   In the midst of your thoughts, Jin turns and interrupts. “What do you think?”   “What do you mean ‘what do I think’?”   “This is a potential choice you can make. Of course, you can always change your mind later. But if you want, I can make this your present right now.”   For some reason, what he says scares you and you don’t think it should.    At face value, your relationship with Hoseok is more than what you could ever ask for. It really seems like he cares and that the two of you, the two of them, love each other. Yet, there’s still a fundamental difference you can see. Even though you’ve only observed them for less than half a day, it’s enough. It’s clear.    Just like back then, you’ll never be able to keep up with Jung Hoseok.    And he might never be satisfied with what you would want.   “I don’t know how I feel about this,” you admit, meeting Seokjin’s eyes. “Hoseok’s nice and at least we’re together. But…”   “Personally, I think you can do better,” he says, looking off at Hoseok who’s still dancing his heart and soul off like he’s the star in a musical. But you have to hand it to him — he’s pretty good at it. “The guy’s permanently twenty one and he acts like he’s a bachelor. It seems like you’re the one who’s holding the relationship together all by yourself.”   You scoff, eyeing the ghostly man. “It sounds like you won’t be happy with anyone.”   He shrugs and softens. “I just want the best for you.” A second later, Jin smiles and shows off the envelopes that suddenly appear in his hand. “There’s still four more.”   He plucks a baby blue square envelope out and then holds out his hand. Your palm slips into his and he releases the envelope. The love letter burns and becomes a new reality for you to see.    The world morphs, blaring music fading first. Then the background washes away like watercolours as the strong gust of wind returns. It brushes coldly against your cheeks, making you flutter your eyes closed as it twines through your lashes and hair, preparing to show you another present with someone else.   You open your eyes.   It’s mid-afternoon. Blue skies. Sunny.   A bicycle on the path whizzes past, swiftly coasting downhill and in the moment, you’re startled, forgetting that it can’t hurt you. But still, Seokjin tugs you back and out of the way. “Be careful.”   “Thanks,” you mumble to him before taking in your new surroundings.    Every few steps, there are lampposts that line the thin road made of small stones cemented together. And what looms over you on both sides are tall townhouses, yellow, blue and pink with steeply pitched hip roofs. It looks like you’ve been plopped into a cute town from a storybook.   “Where are we?”   Jin hums, studying a stop sign at the end of the road. “Well, based on the fact that everything’s in French, I’m going to take an educated guess that we’re in France.”   Before you can flash Jin an unimpressed look for his know-it-all tone or question why the hell you’d be in France, the balcony doors above you suddenly slam open. You look up and see yourself draping a duvet over the railing to air out and catch the warm sunlight.   Both you and Seokjin have gotten accustomed to the routine and turn, passing through the wall of the townhouse to get inside. You’ve always wanted to live in France, but it was always one of those daydreams. You can’t believe in this timeline you’re actually here, that you moved so far away from home.   “Have any clue on who your lover boy is this time around?” Jin asks and you loll your head to your shoulder, humming.   “I have some clue, but you’ll just have to wait and see.”   There’s nothing on the first floor of the townhouse except for damp walls and a muddy, cement floor. But once you begin climbing the L shaped staircase, the walls fade into a seashell white and it becomes brighter, livelier, homey. It opens up to a living space of blues and yellows, sofa facing a wide-screen television, white curtains drifting in the breeze of the open window, a vase full of daffodils and daisies placed in the center of the coffee table.   But most importantly, you take notice of the degrees framed in a straight line on the wall.   In golden frames, there’s your bachelor’s degree and then three others — a bachelor, master’s and PhD, all under philosophy with one name. Kim Namjoon.    The you from this world comes out of the kitchen. She’s wearing a white, silk blouse tucked into a brown skirt and a blazer to match, hair curled and in a low, messy bun, and she’s precariously balancing a wooden tray with two steaming tea cups. You follow her down the hall.   She enters a home office — light colour scheme matching the living room, two desks facing opposite walls and the bay window open. But you don’t soak in the area for long. Not when your eyes dart onto the backside of a broad man sitting at his desk and engrossed with a textbook.   “Joon.”   He turns his head as she calls out to him, a soft smile placed on his features and the dimples in his cheek creased. He moves his arm aside and she places down the cup of tea.   “Is it earl grey?”   “The one and only,” she sing-songs with a loving smile.   “Thank you.” Namjoon sips on it and hums. “Are you going to get started on your thesis today?”   She sighs. “I really should.”   “It’s not good to procrastinate on it.”   “I know.” She pouts slightly and looks through her lashes at him. “It’s just hard to get started again after stopping for so long. I know it sounds like excuses, but the last few moves were so hectic and then I was helping you with your research— which I don’t mind. But obviously I fell behind.”   “Well, there won’t be any more distractions for a while. We’re staying here for at least a few months. Promise.”   “I know.” She goes over to her desk facing the opposite wall and places down her own cup.   Namjoon turns in his chair. “If you need any help, just ask.”   “I’ll try not to bother you too much.”   They exchange sweet smiles, and the room simmers back into a serene quietness.   Jin stands beside you at the doorway, brow cocked, and his arms crossed. His shoulders are so wide, you’re halfway into the wall. “Let me take a guess. Judging by the degrees and the whole academia thing, this guy’s your hot professor that you never had the guts to ask out because he’s married.”   You give an appalled expression. “No. You’re off the mark there, but nice try. He was my TA.”   “Hey, that was pretty close!” Jin looks impressed and you quickly shoot down the rest of his theory.   “But he wasn’t married, or at least, I don’t think he was. I met him during my fourth year in my philosophy class. He was a PhD student and I emailed him back and forth for a while for help on this paper or something until I went to his office hours.”   You remember you almost peed yourself when you first met him in person. Namjoon was so tall and so smart and those black framed glasses — god, you had it bad for a while.    “He made me feel smart for once,” you mumble as an afterthought and Jin frowns.   Without thinking much, he says, “Of course you’re smart.”   Your neck cranes over, looking at him—   “How would you start this sentence?” she turns to Namjoon and your attention is drawn away.   Namjoon uses his chair to roll over and look at her laptop screen. “What are you trying to say?”   “Something about the interlinked connection between the Paris Agreement and the cooperative nature of international states.”   He makes a noise at the back of his throat and his fingers fly across the keyboard, fixing up the document. The moment he’s done, she takes a sigh of relief. “That’s perfect. I’m so dumb. Thank you.”   Jin takes the chance to walk over to this world’s version of you, peeking over her shoulder and looking at her screen. “Look at you hard at work.”    She’s completely unaware of the ghostly man prying into her work, hands hesitating before flying back and forth on the keyboard. Only, a second later, she hits the erase button and deletes all the sentences she’s written. “God, I’m so stupid,” she mutters with a sigh.   Jin turns to you. “I never took you to be the type to want to do school work on your thirtieth birthday.”   “Honestly, me neither.”   You didn’t think you’d still be pursuing a master’s at this age and seemingly have no career of your own. While you enjoy parts of learning and academia has its merits, you were always eager to finish and graduate. You’re not sure if this version of yourself thinks differently.   She types something and then her fingertips quicken as a smile starts to stretch into her cheeks. It’s as if inspiration’s hit her and she turns around. “Namjoon. What do you think about this?”   He comes over and places one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk, eyes reading through the words. She waits, gazing up at him with a mix of anticipation and excitement. After a long moment, Namjoon finally says, “It sounds kind of choppy. Why don’t you move this and that around.”   “Oh. Okay.” She nods, smile falling and when he gets back to his place, she erases all of it.   Silence settles into the room again as the two of them continue. Namjoon reads, annotates and highlights his textbook as she works on her thesis, unblinking, brows furrowed, crouched over. There are no interruptions, and few words are exchanged in between. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought you were in a library and not a cute townhouse somewhere in France.   Jin yawns out of boredom and you can’t blame him. But as the sun begins to set, a ringing phone call pierces through the sound of work.   She moves to pick it up and a knot forms between her brows. Namjoon turns around.   “What’s wrong?”   She pulls the phone away from her ear. “They’re speaking in French.”   Namjoon opens his hand, and she gives it to him. He answers fluently and flawlessly without a beat’s hesitation like it’s his native language and she waits patiently. Once Namjoon hangs up, he tells her, “It’s the bakery. They wanted to remind us we still have to pick up the birthday cake since they close in an hour.”   She scrambles upwards, getting to her feet. “It’s alright, I can go. You should finish what you’re working on.”   “Are you sure?” Namjoon has a hesitant expression and he stands, but she stops him with a smile.   “Of course! I’ll be back in a jiffy. You’ll edit for me while I’m gone?”   “Sure.”   “Then it’s a deal.”   She rushes out of the room, oblivious to how she runs straight through your body. You follow her into the cozy bedroom and watch as she picks something out of her suitcase that’s still unpacked. You notice the cover of the suitcase and handle are plastered with check-in baggage tags from the airport. They’re from all kinds of different places — Miami, Seoul, Rome.    You wonder for how long and just how much this version of you followed Namjoon around the world.   She leaves the townhouse within the next few minutes and Jin looks relieved to finally be doing something other than waiting around while two people bite their nails and put their heads in books. The two of you follow a few paces after her, strolling while enjoying the view.   But it quickly becomes evident that she’s lost.   “Sentier Bleich,” she reads the street sign and frowns, muttering under her breath. “What the hell?”    Jin lifts his brows with a faint smile, thoroughly entertained by her plight. “Uh-oh.”   She starts to pat down her body but then curses. “Shit. I left my phone. WhyamIsodumb?” She sighs and approaches an elderly couple walking past. They look startled and she dips her head down. “Umm, excuse me. Uh, q-quelle, umm, heure est-il?”   The old man glances at his wristwatch. “Il est dix à six.”   “Merci.” She nods and starts to pick up her pace down the street. You widen your strides as well, rooting for this version of yourself. But as she turns the sharp corner, without looking or slowing down, she collides with a body. Not enough to fall down but enough for her shoulder to be roughly shoved.   “Merde!” The man shouts and as he walks off, he turns around, angrily gesturing to her. “Regardez où vous allez!”   “Sorry, I’m so sorry.” She keeps fumbling, ducking her head and at the same time, the apartment keys drop from her pocket. She sighs as she reaches down to pick them up. “God, why am I so clumsy?”   Jin slows down, watching this alternate version of you and he wonders out loud, “Why would you offer to go if you don’t know how to get there?”   You shrug. It’s not like you know what this version of yourself is thinking. But if this is supposed to be you and you know yourself best….   “Maybe I’m trying to prove a point.” You look at Jin. “Maybe I’m trying to be independent.”   You’ve always wanted to live in France. But you’re starting to wonder if this version of you did it out of her own desires or if she was just following Namjoon.   Luckily, she manages to find the bakery right as they’re flipping over the close sign. She knocks on the door and apologies when the frowning lady comes out. “I’m so sorry. I got lost. Perdue. I have a cake to pick up under the name Namjoon? Er, g-gâteau…? Kim Namjoon…?”   The lady says something in French and goes back inside. She returns with a cake box and this version of you thanks her before the door’s being shut in her face.   Still, she’s smiling widely, and you are too. You knew you could do it.   But the victory is short lived when her face visibly drains and she looks in all directions, whipping her head to the left and then to the right, reading the street signs with a deep frown.   Jin chuckles and hitches his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s this way.”   But of course, she doesn’t hear him.   “Don’t laugh at her,” you chide him.   Jin’s mouth falls open in offence. “She can’t even hear me!”   “Yeah, but it’s still mean.” You pout, internally still rooting for yourself. Come on, Y/N. You can do this. You know it. And just to manifest it, you reassure him, “She’s going to figure it out.”   But then she decides to march in the opposite direction.   Seokjin looks at you incredulously.   “I don’t know her,” you spit out as your face grows warm under the embarrassment. “That’s technically me but not me, right? And, hey, can you blame her? It’s not like you can read in French either.”   “Actually, I’ll have you know that I have a great sense of direction.” An arrogant smile perks up on Jin’s lips and he brushes past you to catch up to her. You scoff at him, narrowing your eyes into his broad backside before you’re forced to trail after him before you get lost.   Luckily, what you and this version of you lacks in a sense of direction, you make up for sheer luck and intuition. She finally gets home in one piece albeit a whole hour later after the sun’s just set.   She sets the cake box on the kitchen counter and comes into the office where Namjoon’s still reading with the desk lamp now on next to him.   “What took you so long?” he asks, expression marred with worry. “I called you.”   She steadies her hyperventilating breath and musters a smile. “I just decided to take a walk since the weather was so nice. I think I left my phone here, sorry. I won’t forget next time.”   He doesn’t catch the lie and nods. “It’s good to get the inspiration going.”   “Yeah.”   Namjoon softens. “We’ll cut the cake tonight?”   She smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”   This version of you takes off her coat, drapes it on her chair and then plops down to continue working on her thesis.    Your birthday is spent typing away and re-typing while asking for help every so often. You’re together. Without pounding music or much distraction. Merely in one another’s company. It’s domestic, familiar and warm. But…   A life of following Namjoon, moving from place to’re not sure if this is it.    “Are any of these relationships good?”   He gives you an inquisitive look. “I don’t think this one is too bad, why?”   “I know. I shouldn’t complain. I’m in France and I seem to have a good relationship with Namjoon, but still.” An exhale leaves the seam of your lips and you turn your gaze to the handsome ghost, feeling apprehensive when you think you should be feeling confident. “I’m not sure if this is what I want. It doesn’t seem like I have anything of my own and I want to be independent…”   Jin hums, getting what you’re trying to say. “I can understand that. No relationship is perfect. They all have their ups and downs, some worse than others and some better than others. I don’t have any control over this.” He becomes quiet for a moment. “If anything, I wish it works out. But there’s still three windows for you to look into before you make your final choice.”   He holds out his hand where the three letters materialize, fanned out and you pluck the blush pink envelope. As routine, you release it and it floats mid-air before burning. The edges of the letter curl in the red inferno, ash dusting down and the scene of you hunched over your desk, brows knitted together, washes away.    You automatically reach for Seokjin’s hand without him needing to prompt you right as the wind starts to pick up and howl. It’s a storm that whips through your hair, colour that bleeds away. But this time, you manage to keep your eyes open and together, with Seokjin by your side, you watch as your surroundings stitch together. Every object, item, material forms one by one. From the corner wall to the leg of a table, it starts to become visible.    And what appears, what envelopes you, is so different from the townhouse in France. From the apartment you were in with Hoseok and most notably, the penthouse in New York shared with Yoongi—    It’s a world of difference.   Even Jin is shocked. All he manages is a breathless “wow.”   It’s an extremely cramped space — a pale yellow and white kitchen and living room that’s technically one room. It wouldn’t be any different from a tiny studio apartment if not for the other door off to the side. But the tiled floor seems dirty, the gray carpet is severely stained, a kitchen cabinet is broken and hanging by a single hinge, and the sofa two steps away is ripped and mangled.    There’s not much to see or marvel at.   But before you can say anything to Jin, a man comes out from the room, shivering in his black hoodie that’s covering his hair, ears and face. “Goddammit, why is it so cold?” he mutters, feet padding towards the window by the back door.   He tries to pull it down, arms straining with all his might and it squeaks horrifically in the process.   Jin winces and you flinch, ears hurting from the pitched screech. But what’s far worse is before the window can close, it becomes stuck. A tiny gap is left open, wind whistling through it and he sighs in defeat.   The man finally turns around. And in an instant, your mouth draws open, eyes pinpointed on him as he makes his way to the kitchen, walking straight through Seokjin. You can’t help but gawk.   Jin leans over. “Can I guess?”   You snort, trance shattering and your attention drawn to your ghostly companion. “Sure.”   “This guy was your enemy until you became roommates or next-door neighbours by accident. Turns out he wasn’t as awful as you thought, and you caught feelings but could never admit them.”   You scoff and eye him. “What kind of cliché nonsense is that? Jimin’s my best friend’s older brother.” Immediately, Jin’s brow cocks and a laugh bubbles out from your throat. You nudge him with your shoulder. “Okay, it’s a little bit cliché but can you blame me?”   You open your hand and gesture towards Jimin as if that's enough to explain.    Jin studies him, humming and stroking his chin. After a second, as if he’s reached a conclusion, he says, “I’m better looking.”   You roll your eyes.   But Jimin’s more than his soft, cute appearance that has impressively lasted at this age. From your memories, he’s always been charming and considerate. You knew him in high school, back when you were a teenager who dreamt of romcoms and soulmates, and he swooped in at the same time. Two years older than you are. Undeniably popular. The boy-next-door that every girl daydreamed of — and that included you. You crushed on him hard.   But he was your best friend’s older brother. Said best friend eventually grew apart from you as your paths in life differed, but Jimin was off limits at the time that you knew him. Plus…   “He never looked at me like that. He called me kiddo.”   “Ah.” Jin nods in sympathy. “The little sister zone. Even worse than the friend zone.”   The soft, gradual sound of pitter-pattering above you has Jimin cursing. He looks out the kitchen window at the dark clouds right as a droplet splashes onto his head. He looks up menacingly as if that could stop the rain. But a raindrop plops down on you too. Luckily, it goes straight through your body. For once, you’re glad you can’t feel temperature since you’re sure you’d be shivering.   Jimin goes towards the cabinet underneath the sink and takes out buckets, positioning them right where rain is leaking into the kitchen and living room and letting it drip into it instead.   Right when he’s finished, the front door squeaks. “I’m home!”   It’s you, or at least the you from this world, bundled up in a worn coat and a large scarf.   “Welcome back,” Jimin turns and smiles. “Are you hungry? I can reheat the chicken from last night.”   She doesn’t respond, too busy looking at the large buckets on the floor. “The roof’s leaking again?” she asks in complete exasperation, shoulder deflating as she starts to take off her coat.   Jimin’s smile softens. “Looks like the patchwork didn’t really help.”   “Don’t go up there. You’ll get yourself hurt. We should just get the whole thing replaced. I’m sure they have financing plans that’ll let us pay it off in a few months.”   “No, I’ll call Taemin and ask him for a favour.”   The Y/N of this world turns as she’s finished hanging her scarf on the dinky coat rack. She’s left in a warm, oversized sweater but she doesn’t look terribly cozy with the furrow of her brows that seemingly darken her under eye circles. “Is it really alright to ask him for so many favours?”   Jimin turns to the sink, brushing it off. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”   She stares at him and then her footsteps pad against the titled ground as she goes over to wrap her arms around his waist, leaning her face into his backside. All at once, Jimin eases and he shuts his eyes before he turns around and the two of them hug, squeezing each other in the middle of their modest kitchen.   You can’t help but sigh lightly and coo at the scene. “This is so cute”   “They’re probably just hugging each other for warmth,” Jin comments and you scoff at him. He grins, unabashed at how he ruined the sweet, romantic moment.    “Jimin,” she pipes up after a second. “Is there something burning?”   “Oh yeah, the cake!”   They let go of one another and he leans down to the oven with tattered mitts, taking out the baked cake slices and putting them on the countertop.    “Happy birthday. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I didn’t know you’d come home early.” Jimin ducks his head, cheeks becoming rosy. “I still need to frost it.”   “I love it, Jimin. Thank you.”    She leans in, pecking a chaste kiss to his lips and it leaves a smile on his face.   Jimin takes out the frosting from the fridge and she stands on the opposite side of the counter, dipping her finger into the bowl for a taste. At the same time, he mixes it again with a spoon, waiting for the cakes to cool.   “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you a proper present. I was planning on getting you that bracelet you liked but it was a lot more expensive than I thought it would be…”   “It’s okay. I didn’t like it anyway.”   He looks up with a doubtful and guilty look. But she reassures him, “Promise. I don’t even remember what bracelet you’re talking about. All I wanted was to spend my birthday together and you even made me a cake. What more could I ask for?”   “A lot more.”   “Well, it’s not what I want.” She pouts and it makes Jimin smile to himself.    He frosts the cake and once it’s done, it looks sloppy and unfinished. Part of it doesn’t have any frosting since he ran out, but both you and this version of you doesn’t mind whatsoever. You can tell there’s heart in it and that’s all that matters.   “There’s something I need to tell you,” Jimin says in the midst of dinner where they’re seated on the floor and using the coffee table as a dinner table. “Don’t worry, it’s good news.”   He laughs at her surprised expression and she swallows her mouthful. “Don’t scare me like that. You made it sound so bad.”   Jimin grins. “Sorry.”   “What is it?”   He pauses, just to build the anticipation. “I have an audition lined up. They really liked the performance I sent in.”   There’s a held silence. And then the corner of her mouth lifts. “That’s...amazing!”   But you know yourself. That’s your fake voice and fake smile.   Jimin doesn’t catch on to it. “I have a really good feeling about this one. I’m going to have to practice a lot more and come up with a whole new routine.”   Jin turns to you to fill in the blanks and you tell him, “Jimin’s a contemporary dancer.”   “Oh.”    Through a beat of quiet, both you and Seokjin share an underlying understanding. After all, it’s a universal truth — the arts aren’t lucrative. And you don’t know why you didn’t connect it sooner since it clearly serves as an explanation to the current state of this timeline. Your income must not be enough to support the two of you and unexpectedly, it looks like Jimin is still pursuing dance at thirty two.    You don’t know much about dance, but you know enough to be aware of just how competitive it is. You know how often times, the older you get, the harder opportunities come by. And it’s obvious this version of yourself isn’t hopeful.   “Did the Jimin you know ever end up like...this?”   Jin looks around and you know what he means. The state of this home is bearable, but it isn’t what you ever envisioned for yourself.   You shake your head. “That’s what I’m so confused about. Last time I checked, Jimin’s still pursuing dance but he was teaching at a studio.”    You vaguely remember seeing pictures on social media and him advertising the studio, surrounded with like-minded people. It looked legitimate.   “Maybe the opportunity never came with you around.” Jin hums and then quickly adds, “no offence.”   As Jimin’s in the middle of his excited tangent, the phone suddenly rings. She reaches for it. “It’s my mom.”   “Tell her I said hi.”   “So she can ask about you the entire time and not about me?” she teases with a smile that matches his and picks up the call while she gets to her feet. “Hello?”   Her smile fades for a moment and she slips into the tiny bedroom a few steps away. But the walls are painfully thin, and her voice is crystal clear from where you’re sitting beside Jin and across from Jimin. “Wait, wait, mom, slow down. What’s wrong?”   You exchange looks with Jin and he gives you an ‘uh-oh’ expression, already smelling trouble.   There’s a pause. “Dad? Y-Yeah, I can help, of course I can help with his treatment.”   “Did something happen to your dad?” Jin asks and you frown.    “He went into surgery for his appendix about a month ago.” You wonder if that's what this is about. But it was an easy and quick procedure, and he recovered after two weeks.   Then it comes to you — your parents needed help with the finances. It was easy. So much so that it slipped your mind entirely. You just transferred them the money. But in this world….   “I’ll figure something out,” this version of you tries to stay quiet yet to no avail. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call the hospital and take care of it. Yeah. Yep. No, no. Of course, Jimin won’t mind. It’s fine. We’d be happy to help. Okay. Talk to you soon.”   You glance at Jimin to find him with a saddened smile. He swallows hard as she leaves the room, and he pretends he wasn’t listening. “Is everything okay?”   “Yeah.” She musters a smile. “She was just wishing me a happy birthday.”   Neither of them push or reveal more about what they know. It’s swept under the rug.    The room simmers into silence as the rain patters against the windows, some leaking through the gap of the stuck window and other droplets splashing into the half-full buckets. It’s a comfortable noise, a constant rhythm of the rain.    Eventually Jimin breaks the quiet through warm conversation that she easily reciprocates.   But in the midst of it, Jin turns to you. “What are you thinking?”   “I don’t know.” You sigh, taking in your dire surroundings again. It’s not just about the money. It’s about Jimin’s circumstances too. “I always thought the most important thing was being together, but if Jimin’s in a better place without me, then I don’t want to change that.”   You wish love, romance, relationships were easy. You wish that’s all that mattered.   Your gaze meets Jin’s, and a question comes to mind—   “What if I’m not supposed to end up with any of these people? With anyone? Maybe there’s a reason why things are the way they are and none of this happened in my lifetime.”   All of a sudden, Seokjin’s expression hardens. “Are you fine with being alone then?”   “I’ve gotten on fine for thirty years.”   The ghostly man, clad in a brown coat and dark pants, goes dead silent.    You frown and call out to him. “Jin?”   “No.” He shakes his head. “You have to choose someone. If you don’t….”   “If I don’t…?”   Confusion mars your features, your lips becoming lopsided as a knot forms between your brows. Jin softs and smiles, sheepish eyes slightly crinkled. He theatrically jumps to his feet, stretching his hand out to you. On instinct, your palm slides into his and he pulls you up.   “You shouldn’t give up yet. That’s not the spirit! There’s still two more.” Seokjin’s eyes glimmer with mischief and out of thin air, two envelopes appear in his other hand. He holds it out and you hesitate, but your eyes flicker up towards Seokjin and you look at him through your lashes.   You trust him enough to take one. The stained, old envelope with gel pen doodled hearts on it.   The envelope is released and ignites as time suspends. The orange flames incinerate the papers, crumbling the sheets inside and the ash dusts down like cherry blossoms. The wind howls a breath later, brushing through your hair and caressing your cheeks. You look at you and Jimin sitting together one last time before the sight washes away right in front of your eyes.   The colour bleeds and the surroundings are wiped into a white canvas. You see the world stitch together while the only constant that remains is Jin’s hand in yours.    Walls begin to form around you, but they’re wide and the ceiling lifts. The outside darkens. You discover yourself standing in the foyer of a beautiful, spacious home. The front door is behind you and there are stairs in front. You also notice the mountain of small shoes on the shoe rack.   But your attention is drawn when the first thing you hear are childish squeaks and then stomps.   As everything solidifies, your eyes take in the sight and your mouth draws open. You step forward, hand slipping out of Jin’s as you stare at Kim Taehyung in disbelief.   You knew this letter was his. But you haven’t seen him in so long. It feels like centuries ago.    It’s surreal.   Jin raises a brow at your reaction.   “Where do you think you’re going, missy?” The older man chases after the girl and growls. She squeals as he picks her up and throws her over his shoulder. “It’s time to get dressed before the guests come over. You want to look even prettier, don’t you? Get a sparkly, princess dress on.”   A familiar voice, your voice, shouts from upstairs. “Honey!”   “Coming!” Taehyung yells back. “Just caught the munchkin!”   Jin interrupts your trance. “Care to do the introductions?”   “Y-Yeah.” You snap out of it, blinking twice. “Taehyung’s a childhood friend. He was my best friend. We met in kindergarten.” You smile to yourself while reminiscing. “Everyone thought he was a girl when he was little since he was so pretty and because of him, people called me the ugly one when we sat next to each other.”   You laugh, the nostalgia prickling at you. It’s not a bad memory. How could it be when Taehyung was your first friend. And your first crush. He was a lot of your firsts.    “He ended up moving away at the end of sixth grade and that was that.”   Taehyung was also the subject of your first love letter clumsily scribbled in gel pen. It was meant to be both a goodbye and I love you letter, one filled with doodles and hearts that you never ended up giving to him. But it had started your habit of venting through letter form.   “I facebooked him years later and turns out he became a part-time model for some company. Pretty cool, huh?”   “Did you ever reconnect?”   You shake your head. “It’s been so long. I don’t even think he’d remember me.”   Seokjin hums a long note, drawn out for so long that you turn to him with your brow cocked. He, however, has a blank expression you can’t quite decipher. You’re about to ask him what his problem is, but suddenly, the doorbell rings.   Instantaneously, a German shepherd dog sprints in. A boy with puppy eyes and shaggy hair trails after the pet, turning the corner. But before he can grab the doorknob, a voice stops him—   “Eugene!” This world’s version of you pops out from the hall upstairs, looking down into the foyer of the big home. “What did I say about opening the front door?”   The boy sighs in frustration. “Mom! I’m already ten!”   At the same time, a girl around eight years old in a floral dress comes running over. She hangs off the banisters of the stairs like a monkey and with a grin, she chimes, “Stranger danger.”   “It doesn’t matter if you’re ten or twenty,” the older woman from upstairs declares. “My house, my rules.”   The doorbell rings again, echoing throughout the house. But this time, Taehyung comes down the stairs with the three-year old girl, now in a frilly, white shirt with a pink tutu. They’re hand in hand, taking one step at a time. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Taehyung shouts at the door.   And once it opens, the girl giggles. The dog begins to bark. The commotion grows.   On the other side is your mom whose face is bright and excited. “Oh my goodness, it’s been so long!” Immediately she comes to hug Taehyung, giving him a big squeeze. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her so happy that it makes you unintentionally smile.   “Your mom looks great,” Jin observes with his own grin as the two of you watch the scene unfold. You wonder how he knows that’s your mom.   Your dad enters after.    “Hi grandpa, grandma,” Eugene greets, and she plants a fat kiss on his cheek.   “Hello, dear.” Your mother’s barely gotten her coat off before she’s being surrounded by the kids. “My goodness, did you get even taller?”   He beams. “I think so!”   “You’ll need to drink even more milk if you want to be as tall as your father. Speaking of which, are you doing well, Taehyung? Where’s Y/N?”   The blonde man has a boxy smile, and he gestures using his head. “She’s upstairs, changing the diaper of the little one.”   “Aw, how sweet. I saw that video you sent me the other day. I can’t believe she’s already starting to talk! They grow up so quick, don’t they?” Her eyes trail to the three-year old and she practically melts. “Wendy, come give grandma a big hug!”   The toddler careens over, arms opening wide as your mother crouches down and they capture one another in a giant embrace. A second later, the girl who was hanging off the stair banister comes running over and your mom laughs. “Yuna, get in here too! Oh, there we go.”   She doesn’t forget about the dog either who’s been jumping up and down, barking its head off, pawing at their pants. Once she releases the girls, she scratches behind the dog’s ear and around it’s chin, making it howl. “I didn’t forget about you, pooch. There, we go. What a good boy.”   “You got taller the last time I saw you, didn’t you?” your dad asks Eugene, and it makes the boy grin, nodding his head. “Soon you’re going to be all the way up to my chin!”   “Dad says I might grow to be more than six feet.”   “Don’t grow up too fast,” he says with a smile. “Where’s the other two boys at?”   “They’re watching a movie,” Yuna tattles with her lips pouted.   “It’s so cold!” your mom turns around and motions your dad to enter. “Hurry, close the door!”   Their coats are hung up in the closet and as your mom continues chatting with Taehyung, your dad comes round the living room to two boys, around seven and five, ogling the television screen with their mouths hanging open practically to catch flies. But they turn their heads and scramble upwards with boxy grins.   “Grandpa!”   “Ken, Noah!” He hugs them and the former asks if he brought cookies which your dad answers with a wink and asks, “Have you been on your best behaviour?”   “Yeah!”   You’re in awe, watching the scene unfold in front of your eyes. You would’ve never thought this is what your life with Taehyung would’ve been like.    Jin grimaces as Yuna runs past with Noah. “This place feels like a puppy mill.”   That comment has you laughing. Six kids are a lot. There were toys everywhere on the floor, from dolls to lego pieces, a baby walker in the corner, a playpen in the middle of the living room, sofa worn and stained, and you spot some crayon scribbled on the wall. But even if it’s messy and there’s nothing luxurious, it’s a warm house—   A home.   Jin nudges you, taking you out of your train of thought and you follow his line of sight to the dog who’s a meter away, staring right at the two of you. Then, it starts to furiously bark.   “Woah, down, down!” Jin snaps his fingers, but it does nothing.   The dog can’t hurt you. Probably. But it was still alarming to see it baring its teeth and to have your positions exposed. Considering the both of you have been invisible this entire time, to be seen makes you feel naked.   “Shush, it’s okay.” You lift your hands, backing away. “We’re not going to hurt you.”   Nothing helps. The dog continues to bark. It comes forward.   Immediately, Jin moves, stepping in front of you and shielding you with his body.   Then your voice comes across the room— “Taehyung, calm the dog down, will you?”    This Y/N is dressed in sweatpants and a loose shirt, holding an infant in her arms who’s wide-eyed and babbling incessantly while drooling over her fist and onto her onesie. You barely recognize this version of yourself. She has some dried spit on her shoulder, vomit stains on her chest and she’s understandably gained a few pounds from the kids. You don’t miss her dark-circles or bloodshot eyes either.    At once, Taehyung clicks his tongue and tells the dog, “Hush, boy.”   It whimpers, stepping away from you and Jin, and Taehyung pets behind its ears.   Your mom comes over to the infant and coos, “Look at her! Oh my goodness, how precious. She has your eyes, dear!”   “Really?” she sighs. “I think Sunny’s looking more and more like Taehyung.”   “That’s not such a bad thing,” said man pipes up with another grin. “I’m handsome, aren’t I?”   She lightly scoffs. “Half the kids already look like you.”   In the midst of it, you don’t notice Jin sizing Taehyung up with a quirked brow, not paying any attention to the conversation in favour of scanning the man up and down with narrowed eyes.   “Are you sleeping lately?” your dad asks, concern evident in his expression.   “As much as I can with a newborn.”   Your mom softens. “Well, happy birthday, dear.”   Yuna straightens with a bright smile and repeats it. “Happy birthday, mommy!”   Wendy squeals after her. “Birthday, mommy!”   This version of you eases and smiles. “Thank you.”   Ken, the boy around seven, comes over sulking. “The TV’s broken! It’s not playing anymore.”   Taehyung comes over. “Let me take a look.”   At the same time, the you in the sweatpants notices Noah, the boy that’s about five, following your dad into the kitchen. She calls out, “Don’t give them any sweets, dad! It’ll ruin their appetite.” The infant in her arms has drool dribbling from her mouth and she lifts her shirt to wipe it away. While doing so, she glances at her husband who’s crouched over at the television with the remote in hand. “Taehyung, when are your parents coming?”   “Half an hour? They’re stuck in traffic.”    The dog starts pawing at the front door and she sighs, trying to come over to open it as Sunny starts squirming in her arms. Your mom is the only one who notices her struggle and comes over.   “Here.” She takes the infant from her and once the dog’s free in the fenced-in yard, she leans over in a low voice. “Honey, when was the last time you put a brush through your hair?”   Instantly, she puts her hand up and realizes how disheveled and knotted her hair is. Your mom sheepishly smiles and says she’ll take care of the kids. This version of you nods and ducks out in embarrassment, beelining to the bathroom.    Both you and Jin decide to follow after her, finally getting a moment of quiet away from the chaos that seems to echo throughout the rest of the house.    Jin sighs and you repress a smile at how exhausted he looks in spite of not having to do anything. “That was a lot to take in.”   “Yeah. I guess we never left our hometown.”   In this reality, it seems like Taehyung never moved away either. It seems like you always had each other. You wonder if you had sent that letter to him back then, would it have made such a huge impact on your life?   “ he the love of your life?”   “Who? Taehyung?” Your head whirls to Jin. “I don’t know. It’s been years.”   “I mean what about now?”   “Well, he is handsome. It’s kind of a waste he didn’t become a model in this timeline.”   Jin scoffs and lifts his nose into the air. “I’m better looking.”   You flash him an incredulous look. “You said that about Jimin too.”   “That’s because I’m better looking than most people.” The ghostly man strokes his chin and winks. But you stare at him blankly and after a beat, you bite back—   “Really? I don’t see it.”   Jin’s mouth draws open and he scoffs in offence. You burst out laughing.   “I know you think I’m handsome. Just admit it!”   “I can’t admit what’s not there,” you quip back at him. “That would be lying.”   Before you can blink, Jin’s hands suddenly stretch and he’s tickling you at your weakest points. You squirm and squeal at him, “S-Stop!” But giggles bubble past your lips and he grins, cheeks puffing out, eyes crinkled, not letting up until you’re forced to run down the hall, following the light and escaping into the bathroom where the other version of you is.   Jin chases after you but then gives up when you feign an angered expression which includes your lips twitching and threatening to pull into another smile. Still, he puts his palms up, grins and declares a temporary truce. “Fine, fine.”   You watch as this version of you gawks at the mirror and grabs a comb to tackle the tangled hair.   But not a second later, a familiar boy pops through the door, straight through Seokjin.   “Mommy, I’m hungry,” Noah complains.   “We’ll eat in a little bit.” When she’s unable to pull the comb through her hair, she slaps it on the counter in frustration and turns on the tap to try to clean off the stain on her shoulder.   “I don’t want mashies.”   “Well too bad. Beggars can’t be choosers.”   “I hate you!” the five year old screams and she closes her eyes tight for a moment, taking a deep inhale as her patience is tested. At the same time, the boy runs away.   She’s left slamming the tap closed and turning around.    She beelines towards the stairs but is stopped by Yuna who tugs on her shirt. “Mommy, Ken’s undressing my dolls again!”   “No, I’m not!” the boy defends in a pitched voice. “She’s the one who keeps using my Iron Man to be the prince!”   “Ken, stop undressing Yuna’s dolls. And Yuna, leave your younger brother’s toys alone.” The two kids pout, and she walks up the stairs to see Eugene coming out of his room. His shoulders are shrugged, feet dragging along the carpet and there’s a crumpled, collared shirt in his hand.   “Mom, do I really have to change?”   “Yes. It’s for the pictures.”   “But I don’t like it! It’s too tight on me.”   “No, it isn’t. You’ll be fine, Eugene.” She enters her room that’s ridden with toys as well and opens the closet, scrambling for a clean shirt. He trails after her. “It’s only for a few hours.”   “Ugh!”   The ten year old turns on his heel, walking away.    Jin whistles. “Damn, you never get a moment to yourself, do you?”   As if to prove his point, the doorbell goes off. Barking and more loud noises follow, and she curses, rushing into the bathroom with a wrinkle shirt she finds. In the meanwhile, Seokjin takes the chance to look at the family photos framed on the bedroom wall, viewing them with a stoic expression.    You look after him, finding a picture of you and Taehyung in the hospital with you lying in bed and Taehyung holding a newborn. The both of you look so young, you must’ve been twenty.   There are many more photographs after that and as the years seem to progress, there’s more and more kids captured with toothless smiles and bright eyes. You look over them with a soft smile.   “I didn’t know you wanted so many kids,” Jin pipes up.   That’s the thing — “I don’t.”    The Y/N of this timeline rushes out of the bathroom with her new shirt and her hair somewhat neatly tied back. But as she leaves, she nearly trips on a toy dump truck on the ground and curses. She kicks it aside and then goes downstairs where there are more greetings and calls of her name.   Jin’s eyes trail from the space that she had just occupied to you. “Do you like this world? It seems a bit hectic.”   “I don’t know what I want anymore,” you admit honestly with a sigh. “I thought the most important thing was to have someone by my side, but so many other things seem to matter too. A family, compatibility, career, stability.” Your gaze meet’s Seokjin’s. “Is it selfish if I want it all?”   The corner of his plump lips tug and he shakes his head. “Not at all. I’m here to make your wish come true.”   “Mom?”    The two of you are interrupted by Eugene who enters the room, oblivious. He sighs when he realizes she isn’t there and scatters down the stairs. You follow after him, not quite done watching this reality just yet.   Downstairs, Taehyung’s parents are mingling with yours while the kids are running amok.   Dinner is hectic as well. Noah complains about the mashed potatoes before Wendy spills her entire plate on the floor, and Sunny knocks over her bottle of milk. And when it’s time to have cake, all the children gather round with Sunny perched on your lap. They sing discordantly and Jin winces as the kids practically spit all over the birthday cake to blow out the candle.   But it’s an undeniable sweet sight when they give their handmade crafts as gifts. It’s only slightly underplayed when Ken steals Eugene’s cake much to the older’s dismay and Noah throws some in Yuna’s hair, making the girl shriek her head off and require parental intervention.   You don’t think Jin has anything against kids, but by his facial expression, you can tell that every second is making him more adverse. Watching him and his reactions makes you laugh.   But in the middle of the celebrations, Taehyung pulls his wife aside in a private nook of the house and presses a long, sweet kiss to her lips. Even if you’re a bystander and merely watching, it makes you swoon. Jin, on the other hand, merely lifts a brow.   She smiles. “What’s the matter?”   “It’s time for your birthday gift,” he says, hand tightening in hers and she grins. “Follow me.”   Unfortunately, their path is intercepted by the rascals who have long infested the house and made privacy virtually impossible. “Where’re you going?” Ken asks, hanging off the back of the couch and watching them brush past.   “It’s a secret,” Taehyung states without looking at him.   Noah jumps off the stairs. “I wanna come!”   “No. Go watch your sister.”   The five-year old pouts. “I don’t wanna.”   “Hey!” Taehyung suddenly points towards the kitchen. “Look over there!”   Instantly, all of the children’s heads whirl in the indicated direction. They fall for the distraction and Taehyung grins, stealing the opportunity to finally sneak off with his wife. It makes you smile too, and you follow after them as they make their way down the hall until he finally stops at the closet next to the laundry room.   “What is it?”   “Hold your horses, woman.”   Taehyung turns on the single bulb and they enter the crowded space, only able to close the door halfway when there’s clothing bins in the way. They’re oblivious to how you and Seokjin are standing there, intruding on the moment and watching them.   “Don’t tell me you got that necklace.”   “No.”   Suddenly, as if another idea’s come to mind, her expression lights up and her eyes widen. “No…”   It makes Taehyung grin. “What?”   The Y/N of this world gasps and lightly smacks her husband in the chest. “You did not.”   “Did I?” He laughs.    “You finally got tickets for us to go to Europe?!”   The tall man quirks his head to the side with a playful smile. “Not quite. I got something even better. Ta-da!” He leans down and drags out a long box from the bottom shelf that was hidden and buried underneath a pile of jackets. Taehyung smacks the cardboard triumphantly. “A new stroller!”   “Dude!” Jin shouts, arm stretching out in exasperation as if the other man could see or hear him. “That’s not even a gift for her!”    You grimace. And it seems like this world’s version of you does as well.   “I could do better than that,” Jin scoffs, fully offended on behalf of you and this alternative version of you who remains completely silent.   “Well, it’s the thought that counts,” you conclude with a small sigh, turning to Seokjin, intrigued by his statement. “What would you get me?”   “I don’t know, like a bouquet of tulips and a scarf. This is just pathetic.”   He shakes his head, but you’re stuck in your spot, transfixed on the ghostly man’s profile. You wonder why he said tulips specifically when he could’ve just said a bouquet of flowers.    You love tulips.   “I have to assemble it, but it’s going to be great,” Taehyung explains excitedly with an enormous, rectangular smile. “The wheels roll in all directions and the sunshade can move at three different angles.”    “Oh. That’s great.” She musters a smile. “ it.”   “Right? I even got it on sale. Picked it up yesterday.”   As he stands, she eyes him, fixated on the fact that he had gotten it just yesterday. “Did you forget? About my birthday?”   Colour drains from Taehyung’s face and his mouth draws open before shutting a beat later. Yet she grins and leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Tae. I appreciate it.”   He deflates in relief and encircles her waist with his arms. “I love you.”   “I love you too.”   “Y/N—” a shrill voice interrupts their intimate moment. It’s your mom. “Where’s the diapers? Sunny needs a change!”   She sticks her head out of the closet door. “Coming!”   For the rest of the night, the grandparents play with the kids and the dog until it’s everyone’s bedtime and they take their leave, wishing you a goodnight and giving last birthday wishes.   Eugene brushes his own teeth as Taehyung helps the two younger boys and this world’s version of you is in the other bathroom giving Wendy a bath. You feel tired just by watching yourself.    It could just be that you haven’t slept. God knows how long it’s been since this whole adventure started. It’s still a lot to take in but you know you have to make it through until the end. You want to.   In between the bedtime routine, Ken begs to use the iPad while Yuna refuses to go to sleep. But at ten o’clock at night, the whole house finally gets quiet. The Y/N, who’s changed into some old pajamas, hums while cradling Sunny. Said infant rests on her shoulder and sleeps away. The dog is also at the foot of the bed, sleepily blinking.   Taehyung enters their bedroom with a yawn. “Did you have a good day, birthday girl?”   “It’s as good as it’s gonna get.”   He smiles, leaning in to kiss her. It’s soft, tired and brief.   Then there’s a knock at the door and someone who’s barely three feet rubbing at her eyes incessantly with her tiny fists. “I can’t sleep,” Wendy whines, words blubbering together.   “Here, I’ll do it.” She hands Sunny off to Taehyung, but the movement has the infant squirming and a cry escaping her mouth. He tries to hush her, patting her back, but the baby’s brows furrow and she starts to cry louder.    The shrieking builds in intensity and tone as Taehyung tries to get her back to sleep, but she awakens completely, cry becoming ear-piercing. That, in turn, makes the dog get up and howl.   “Mommy!” Wendy shouts at the top of her lungs, trying to draw her attention. “Mommy!”   The temporary peace and quiet of the house is shattered. Lasting less than five minutes.   And with all the noise — the dog howling, the baby crying, Wendy screaming — the Y/N of this world starts to cry too. With her downcast eyes and her head slumped down, tears begin to slip off her cheeks and she lifts her hands to quietly sob into them. Taehyung is at once alarmed.    “Honey.” With his free arm, he tries to embrace his wife. “Is everything alright?”   “Y-Yeah. Sorry.” She lifts her face and hastily wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, clearly trying her best to hold it together. “I-I’m fine.”   She turns and reaches for Wendy’s hand. That appeases the tantruming toddler. “Come on, let’s go.”   You watch her drooping backside fade into the dark hallway until the faint outline disappears from sight. In the meanwhile, Taehyung gets the dog to quiet down and then focuses on getting Sunny back to sleep.   “What’s the verdict?” Jin pipes up suddenly, startling you. It was easy to forget that you were more than a silent spectator.   “I know this is an option but…”   “But?”   You pause, unable to find the right words but as if Seokjin knows you well after tonight, he fills in the blanks for you. “You still want a career, don’t you? Something of your own.”   You meet his eyes, uncertain. “Is that such a bad thing?”   You’re sure being a mother is fulfilling. As exhausting as it seems, you can tell Taehyung loves you, or at least her, and you can tell the kids do as well, in spite of the tantrums they throw or the ‘I hate you’s’ that they shriek. Yet — there’s still something missing.   When you look at this version of yourself, you don’t see you anymore. You see a mother of six. You see Taehyung’s wife. Your own identity has disappeared in the wake of responsibility. And you’re not sure if you can suddenly accept such a drastic change.   You don’t know if this is the reality you want to be in.   “Not at all,” Jin comforts and holds out his hand with a gentle smile. “There’s still one more.”   Like all the times before, your hand slips into Jin’s and he gives you the last envelope that materializes in his hold. Knowing what to do, you release it in front of you with a light toss and it floats mid-air as time suspends. The envelope burns, corners curling in the flames that appear, pages inside disintegrating into ashes that cascade downwards.    The wind picks up. The colours blur. It feels like you’re on a bullet train, being lodged somewhere else. In a different place, a different time, a different universe.   But as the world around you shifts, this time, your eyes remain focused on Jin’s profile.   Your gaze traces the slope of his nose, the pillowy shape of his lips, the way his brown irises catch the light of the stars. And you look at him until he turns. His eyes meet yours and they soften with a sheepish smile.    You don’t know why you didn’t notice before.    Maybe you just got used to it since it was like this from the start. Maybe you thought he was like this to everyone. But the way Seokjin gazes at you — it’s like you’re the only thing he wants to look at.   A car whizzes past.   You’re both standing next to the street. A lamppost dimly illuminates your translucent figures.   “Is something wrong?”   You break away from his tender gaze. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”   “’s almost over.” He squeezes your hand and releases it. You glance at him, but he’s looking elsewhere and as you follow his line of sight, you realize you’re right in front of your apartment.    If you didn’t know any better, you would think that you made it back to the present, your present. But then you catch yourself, this world’s version of you, getting out of a car in the open parking lot.   She’s wearing simple business attire, a pencil skirt and blouse, not that much different from what you’re wearing now.   “Care to tell me about this last lover of yours?” he asks, leaning over with a mischievous smile.   You scoff, mouth tugged upwards. This one’s no lover of yours, but Jin already knows that. He’s only teasing you at this point.   There’s only one person left. Only one person it could be.   “Jungkook. I met him at a bar a year ago. He came in with a group of guys.” A group of very attractive men that your coworkers pointed out. You still remember how lucky you felt when he slid right next to you and chatted you up. He was a smooth talker, charismatic, and you were infatuated within an hour. “He’s a semi-pro racer.”   “I didn’t know you were into bad boys.”   “He was sweet. Until he ghosted me.” You sigh lightly, not particularly bitter about it considering it’s been a while. “We went on a few dates, but he never called me back after the third one.”   At the time you wrote that love letter, you were frustrated and upset. It was a wine drunk night and you needed to vent somehow, so you did it through letter form once again. This was the first relationship where you really thought it would have a chance of working out.    You don’t know the reasoning for Jungkook never contacting you again. Maybe he just lost interest. Maybe he found someone else. But you suppose this is a world where it didn’t turn out that way.   “Well, that’s stupid of him,” Jin breaks you out of your thoughts. He says it so nonchalantly like it’s obvious. He doesn’t know just how consoling his words are to you. “His loss. Guess this is his second chance to own up.”   Before your lips can part, before you can say anything, a phone rings.   The Y/N of this world picks it out of her pocket as she makes her way into the apartment. Jin follows after her and you’re left trailing after him.   “Hey.” She smiles sweetly. “Work was fine. Are you coming home soon?”   Once she gets inside, she pushes the button for the elevator. “There’s already a cake in the fridge. We can cut it tonight.”    There’s a pause and suddenly, she bursts out laughing. “How about staying in? We don’t need to do anything fancy. I wouldn’t mind just having dinner tonight and maybe turning on a movie. I heard When Spring Meets Autumn is half-decent. I can probably download it for free.” She grins after a beat of quiet. “Oh, come on, romance movies aren’t that bad.”   She gets inside the elevator and it goes up, opening at her floor. She strides down the hall, but you and Jin are ahead of her. “Okay. I’ll see you in an hour or two then? Love you.”   As she fiddles with the keys to open the door, you walk through the walls.    It’s your apartment. Down to the empty glass on the counter.   A wave of relief and comfort washes over you. It feels like it’s been eons since you’ve been here in your own home and after seeing so many different versions of ‘home’, this place was unbeatable. Not that the penthouse in New York wasn’t gorgeous or the townhouse in France wasn’t lovely — but this place, albeit not special, it’s yours. You got it on your own, picked out the furniture on your own, pay for it on your own, and most importantly, it carries all of your memories.   You don’t know what you would do if you could never return here — to the home you built yourself.   The Y/N of this timeline throws the keys onto the counter and kicks off her shoes.   She turns on the lights and you watch her like it’s an out-of-body experience. Out of all the versions of yourself that you’ve witnessed, this one is the most strikingly similar to you. It seems like not much has changed in this reality. You still have your job, your home, all the things you worked hard for and the things you’re content with.    It’s all here.   The only difference is you’re not alone. You have someone to call your own. Someone to come home to.   As she heads for the shower to wash up, Jin plops down on the couch. His arms spread wide and he props his feet onto the coffee table.    You scoff, crossing your arms and quirking your brow at him. “Looks like someone’s gotten comfortable. You know, that’s the exact spot I was sitting when you scared me shitless and almost gave me a heart attack.”   “Yeah, because of how good looking I am, right?” Jin smirks and you roll your eyes.   “Unbelievable.”   “It’s not like she can see.”   “This is still my apartment.”   “It’s hers.”   “Well, she’s me and I’m her.”   “Technically, this is another version of you that you can choose to become,” he says with a sly smile, obviously entertained by the petty argument and managing to rile you up.   But what he says piques your interest. You realize you don’t know the real specifics to what will happen once you make your choice. “So, if I choose, I’ll end up becoming them?”   “In a sense. You’ll get their memories, and your entire life will change.”   “What happens if it turns out I hate it?”   “That’s why you have to make the decision carefully.”   Your brows furrow. “Can’t you revert it back?”   “No.” Seokjin quiets and he looks to the floor. “Once the decision is made, I’ll be gone.”   You step forward, words unable to sink into you. “What do you mean?”   He meets your eyes, murmuring, “I’m just here to grant you your wish, Y/N.”   Before any more can be said, the you of this universe comes back, filling the silence with a song on her phone. She pulls the sleeves of her hoodie up to her elbows and goes to the kitchen humming. The two of you follow, watching her taking out lettuce and potatoes from the fridge.    She struggles to get the hard spaghetti box from the high cabinet shelf.    Jin shakes his head, sighing. “You should stop keeping things out of your reach.”   “I can reach,” you argue, and she does manage to snag it, only after jumping twice. But it works. “See?”   He grins, putting his hands up.   But Jin quickly becomes exasperated by how much salt she puts into the water and freaks out when the pot almost overboils onto the stove.   “I didn’t take you for being a backseat driver, or in this case, a backseat chef,” you quip.   “Don’t you know? The most important way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” he declares, suddenly passionate. “You only eat three times a day, so it has to be right.”   His tangent makes you grin. “I didn’t know you were such a foodie.”   “You are too,” he mutters, frowning over her shoulder as she stirs the pasta. “You’re a pickier eater than I am.”   Instantly, a knot is made between your brows. “How do you know that?”   Jin does a double take and says, “I’m just assuming. Since you seem like the high maintenance type.”   You’re wholly offended by the comment, mouth hanging open as you scoff.   Jin ducks when try to smack his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry.” He laughs, smiling from ear to ear. “I didn’t mean it.”   “You so did!” But instead of being insulted, you start laughing too.   “Well maybe it’s because I’ve shown you paradise with five guys so far and you haven’t made a single choice. Sorry for assuming things because you’re so picky.” The last word is squealed out as you try to jab Seokjin’s side. He giggles and you chase him around the kitchen island.   “Didn’t you tell me to make my decision carefully?”    “I didn’t tell you to take years to decide,” he sing-songs, mocking you.   “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know you had better things to do.”   “Why are you mad at me?” Jin grins and it’s infuriating how each move you make, he mirrors you, keeping the exact same distance around the island. And when you try to run, his legs are too goddamn long for you to catch up. “You’re the slow and indecisive one.”   Your mouth drops open again. “Did you just call me slow?!”   He laughs and it takes all your efforts not to either. But you can’t help the way your lips twitch into another smile.    “You’re slow at chasing me.”   “You little shit — get back here! Jin!”   In the meanwhile, this world’s version of you is busy chopping potatoes and preparing her seasoning. She’s completely oblivious to you and Seokjin running around her and making an absolute ruckus out of the place. When she’s not making the food, she’s constantly checking the clock.   Once the food is prepared, sitting on the stove to be warmed up again, she stops tapping her foot incessantly and grabs her phone. You watch as she makes a call, but sighs after there’s no answer. So, she sits on the couch, fingers flurrying over her phone as she texts.    But as the hour passes and minutes continue to fly by, she becomes more uneased.   She starts to pace. Checking outside the window. Looking at the clock.   She calls again and this time, leaves a voice message— “Jungkook, hey. When are you coming home? The food’s all done, and I thought you’d be here by now. You’re not picking up my calls either. Is everything alright? At least give me a call back or answer my text when you hear this.”   You and Seokjin watch her and you brace yourself, wondering what’s wrong this time.   Maybe Jungkook’s ditching you in this timeline as well. Maybe you’re about to find out he’s cheating on you. Or maybe he’s just not going to show up and you’re going to spend your birthday alone like how it was supposed to be from the very start—   Your train of thought is interrupted by a ringing that pierces into the silence.    She jolts and instinctively snatches her phone, picking up the call.    “Hello?”   There’s a long pause. She furrows her brows deep enough to hurt and then instantly gets to her feet. “Oh my god. I’ll be right there!”   You and Seokjin exchange equally confused expressions as she darts to grab her coat and keys, nearly slipping on the floor in the process. You don’t know where she’s going, but Jin doesn’t wait around.    “Let’s follow her.”   You nod and the pair of you keep up until you’re sitting in the backseat of her car. The engine roars and then she’s backing out of her spot and driving down the road over the speed limit.   She glances into the rearview mirror every so often — teeth sunk into the bottom of her lip — tears making her eyes glassy. At any red stop light, her fingers tap against the steering wheel, anxious to go.   You frown when something comes into sight. You feel Seokjin stiffen beside you.   It’s the hospital.   She signals and turns into it, wheels screeching against the pavement, frantically following the signs until she parks in the lot. She doesn’t pay for parking, merely grabbing her jacket thrown in the other seat and she starts to run towards the sliding glass doors, past the parked ambulances.    You barely manage to keep up. Jin trails behind you.   When you enter, she’s sobbing at the counter. “I-I got a call. M-My fiancé— he’s hurt.”   The nurse tries to calm her down. “Can you tell me his name?”   “Jeon Jungkook.”   She’s shaking.    Fear is etched onto her features. Her eyes search the room desperately. And her knuckles are white with how they grasp onto the counter as if to anchor her weakened knees.   A younger nurse leads the way and she fervently follows her down the hall as teardrops shed down her cheeks. The nurse stops at a room with a window looking into it.    “He’s inside. You can’t go in yet.”   “W-What happened to him,” she whispers in a broken voice, staggering breaths heaving from her chest as she tries to get the words out. “ he going to be okay?”    At the exact same moment, as if to answer her questions, the door opens.   “Make way!”   Jungkook is wheeled out, laying on the bed, eyes barely open and conscious. He’s in a neck brace, his lips bleeding, cuts littering his reddened face that is sure to bruise abhorrently. His left eye is swollen beyond recognition and the doctors crowd over him. But it doesn’t stop her from calling out to him.   “Jungkook!”   She chases after them as they wheel him away. “Jungkook!”   His fingertip twitches. But once they turn the corner, she slows.   “Ma’am.” A doctor comes to her. “Are you the patient’s wife?”   “I’m his fiancée,” she manages in the midst of her heavy sobs. “Wh-What happened to him?”   “He got into a motorcycle accident, but luckily his injuries aren’t too severe. He’s most likely going to recover,” he says, and she deflates in relief, a deep breath being taken as she tries to quiet her crying. “He has a concussion and we’re just sending him in for a CT scan to figure out how severe it’ll be. Is there someone you can contact? Does he have any family?”   “His parents are out of the country— but how long will it take?”   “It should be within the hour.”   She nods. “I’ll...I’ll wait for him here.”   She lugs her legs back, finding chairs built in the hall across the room and she waits for him there. Hunched over. Hands kitted together. Shaking. No one pays mind as she cries quietly into her lap. No one looks at her slumped silhouette but you and Jin, standing at the end of the hall.    She spends her birthday in the hospital.   You’ve seen so many versions of yourself today — a successful businesswoman, a traveler, a mother — but there’s something about seeing yourself broken down in a hospital, in grief for a loved one. It’s difficult for you to see yourself so torn down from an outsider’s point of view. It’s hard to watch.    But Jin seems to be more affected than you.   He’s quiet, without comment and it’s unlike him to be.   You turn to Jin, finding him visibly uncomfortable with the scene — brows furrowed deep enough to hurt, lips lopsided and eyes solemn. He stares at her for a prolonged moment.   “Are you alright?”   He jolts from your voice and tears his eyes away from the sight. “I’m fine. I just don’t like hospitals.”   You wonder if it’s because he died in one. You wonder how he died in the first place.   “Jin.”   “Hmm?”   “ did you die?” you ask in a hesitant murmur, uncertain if it’s a question you’re even allowed to ask. “Since you said you were a ghost and all…”   The corner of his mouth tugs, but it’s tinged with sorrow. “It was a car accident. It came out of nowhere. I didn’t have time to prepare.”   “I’m sorry.”   “No.” He shifts his gaze downwards. “I’m more sorry for the people I left behind.”   After a beat, Jin lifts his eyes to you and he says, “Don’t pick this one.”   You’re taken aback. Not once has he voiced his own opinion before — never so strongly and firmly. He’s made comments, made jokes, complained countless times, but Jin’s never told you what to do. Who to pick and choose. What path to go down into. But now, he doesn’t waver.    He is adamant. As if he’s already eliminated this one decision for you.   “Why not?”   Jin gazes into you, eyes becoming soft and tender.    “I don’t want to see you like this.”   Before you can react, before your mouth can open and the innumerable questions pressed on your mind can tumble from your lips, the same nurse from earlier approaches this world’s version of you. “Mrs. Y/N? You are Jungkook’s fiancée?” Immediately, she stands. “He’s been moved into another room.”   She enters a room in the adjacent hall.   Jungkook’s inclined upwards on the bed. Dark hair, doe eyes, tattoos wrapping up his left arm before it disappears under the sleeve of his blue hospital gown. There are scratches littering his face, a bandage on his chin and spots on his torn flesh already deepening in a purple hue.    Yet Jungkook still manages a meek smile. “Hey.”   She stares at him, expression filled with hurt and he already knows.    “He’ll be okay,” the doctor says, and she redirects his attention to him. “The concussion luckily isn’t severe, and we’ve given him some pain medication. The cuts and bruises should heal in a few weeks. I’ll leave the nurses to explain the best way to treat them.”    The doctor continues, “He’ll need to stay in the neck brace for two days since he did suffer from some whiplash. We also want to keep him in the hospital for at least twenty four hours to monitor his condition in case something goes wrong.”   “Okay.” She musters a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you so much.”   He mentions a few other things, but he and the nurses soon leave to give her and Jungkook some privacy. It’s then that a deadly silence fills the room.   She stands a meter away from the bed, staring at him. He doesn’t say a single thing. Not until she does.   “You went racing again….didn’t you?”   “I’m sorry.”   “You were supposed to be on your way home. You told me you were going home.”   “I know. It was supposed to only take an hour, but then this...happened.” Jungkook has the audacity to laugh, but then sharply inhales with the sting of his split lip.   She glares at him and slowly approaches his bedside. “It’s not funny. What if it was worse? What if you got hurt even worse, Jungkook?” Her eyes are glassy and her voice croaks. “W-What am I supposed to do then? Are you planning on leaving me like that?”   “I know.” Jungkook softens, stuck in his spot with the neck brace but he lifts out his arm. She takes his hand, still trembling and he squeezes it. “I’m sorry.”   She sits beside him and his eyes flicker over to her. The corner of Jungkook’s mouth subtly upturns. “If it helps, I would kiss you right now if I could.”   A tearful laugh pulls from her. “You look awful.”   “I feel awful.” He squeezes her hand again. “Will you still love me if all this is permanent?”   She scoffs lightly, unable to believe he can be joking around in this position. But she doesn’t argue about it. “It isn’t, but yes. I’d still love you even if you’re an absolute idiot.”   “I’m glad.” Jungkook sighs out of feigned relief. He easily turns the atmosphere lighthearted and relaxes her. “I don’t know how I’d deal if you decide to dump me. I’d be injured inside and out. Don’t think the doctor can officially diagnose it as heartbreak.”   “You should be more worried about me punching you than breaking up with you.”   “I’d tell you to do it now, but I don’t think I could take it. My neck’s not in a great place right now.” His eyes flicker down to his neck brace. “You might accidentally decapitate me. Wouldn’t want you to go to prison because of me, babe.” He smiles and adds, “Especially not on your birthday.”   She has a deadpan expression. “Thanks.”   “Man, tonight was supposed to be perfect.” Jungkook exhales. “I was supposed to slap down the prize money on the table and I even had the nicest gift for you. It’s under the bed.”   “Don’t tell me what it is.” Her eyes glaze over again, and she becomes quiet. “Give it to me when you get out.”   “Okay.” Jungkook stares at her. “The bike’s a goner. I won’t be able to fix it.”   “Good.”   There’s a pause and he repeats himself as if that could somehow make up for his mistake. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you don’t want to spend your birthday here.”   A tear trickles from her eye and leaves a wet trail as it rolls down her cheek. “That doesn’t matter. Just promise me. Promise me this won’t happen again, Kook,” she whispers, begging and pleading, “That you won’t go racing illegally and get yourself arrested or hurt.”   There’s a beat of silence.   “I promise.”   But she looks far from being reassured. There’s an expression on her face, one that reads of disappointment. As if she knows he’ll do it again. As if she knows the promise is meaningless. After all, no matter how much she pleads, she can’t change his personality. Jungkook is a risk-taker. He lives for adventure and the adrenaline rush. She’ll be here again. Crying. Waiting.   You watch the two of them from the window in the hall. You don’t know what to think.   This is the last one. After this, there’s no more letters to burn, no more futures to see.   You have to make your choice.    Yoongi. Hoseok. Namjoon. Jimin. Taehyung. Or Jungkook.   But you don’t know who to pick. You don’t know what the answer is. Nothing seems right to you.   These versions of your life and of yourself, they never seem to be truly content with their situation. There’s always a missing piece to the puzzle. A compromise in each that you’re not sure you’re willing to make. And maybe that’s just what life is — there’s no such thing as perfect. Maybe you just have to accept that fact and learn to cope. But why does it still feel so wrong?   There are a million maybes that have flooded your mind and overwhelmed you completely but one of them is the loudest. A truth that had lingered in the back of your mind and crept as time went on. One that you had tried to acknowledge before—   Maybe you’re not meant to be with any of them.   This scene in front of you isn’t meant to happen. Everything you’ve seen tonight was supposed to remain what-ifs and not what-is.    The way your life has actually worked out is the one that should stay.   But you have to choose….right?   That’s what Jin told you.   Jin.   “How do you know I like tulips?”   The question is finally spoken from your lips as you’re both looking onwards at the couple on the other side of the glass. The ghostly man is by your side as he has been since the very start.   “What?”   You turn to him, gaze connected to his. “You said for my birthday you’d get me a scarf and a bouquet of tulips.”   Jin’s brow lifts. “Did I?”   “You did. A normal person would’ve just said a bouquet of flowers.”   His head quirks and he smiles. “I just said whatever came to mind. I didn’t think twice about it.”   “How’d you know it was my mom before I introduced her to you?”   Jin blinks owlishly and within a second, it’s gone and he’s still smiling at you. “I thought it was obvious, wasn’t it? What’s wrong?” he asks, caught off guard by your questions.   “You knew I was a picky-eater too.” One by one, you start to connect the pieces together and the more you consider, the more fragments fall into your lap. You didn’t see it before but now that you do, it’s all you see.   It’s blaring out at you. Neon in the midst of monotone.    The puzzle was so much bigger. There were so many more questions you should’ve been asking sooner. The most important things that you should’ve known first were right in front of you. You shouldn’t have waited until now.   Seokjin’s expression is marred by genuine confusion. “Y/N?”    “How did you know my name?” you ask, eyes piercing into his. “I never told you.”   “I’m your guardian angel,” he explains, but it’s lies. All lies.   “You said you were a ghost,” you refute without blinking. “You died from a car accident.”   Seokjin diverts his eyes elsewhere, searching the floor, the walls. “I’m just here to grant your wish.” He tries to evade, but you know better. You know to press on. To keep prying—   “Why do you look at me like that?”   You won’t stop. Not until you know the truth.   “Like what?”   “Like you love me.”   The two of you stand in the middle of the hospital, noises whizzing past, doctors, patients and nurses whisking by. Everything blurs into the background into a mosaic of fuzzy colours — fluorescent lights, bodies in motion. The pandemonium has turned into white noise.   It reminds you of being on a bullet train or a space where there’s just you and him.   You look at Jin, brows knitted together, searching his expression. “Who are you?”   “I don’t know what you mean,” he murmurs, blank and impassive.    Your voice raises, becoming louder, begging to know. “Who are you?”   It can’t be a coincidence — how he knows so much about you, with the way he looks at you so affectionately.    “Why did you come to grant my wish?”   “Y/N.” Jin calls your name, firmly, louder.   But you reach out and grab him with a sudden fear that he’ll slip away from you. You grasp onto the collar of his brown coat, tightening your fists until your knuckles have turned white. You pull his face close to your own, trying to break through his expressionless facade. Trying to stop him from telling you lies upon lies.   “Who are you to me?!”   “I can’t tell you!”   “Why?!” You shake, teeth gritted, brows knotted. “Why can’t you be honest with me?!”   “Because I don’t want to see you hurt!”    The shout echoes in your eardrums. His chest rises and falls. Your own breath heaves out your lungs, tearing from your lips.    “I don’t want to see you hurt.” Seokjin swallows hard and his eyes beg you not to ask anymore. To spare him. “I don’t want you to be alone.”   You let go of him. “Then I won’t choose. I won’t choose anyone.”   At once, the world around you dissolves. The scene of you and Jungkook sitting on the hospital bed dissipates and the wind howls. It whips through your hair, caresses your cheeks, whistles around you as the colour of this universe bleeds away. It turns into a blank canvas until objects start to materialize one by one. Until you’ve returned to your apartment again.    Home. Your timeline. The place you’re supposed to be.   “No!” Seokjin reaches out instantly, wrapping his hand around your wrist as if he’s reacting with sheer reflex, as if he’s afraid he’ll disappear. “Wait! You have to choose!”   “Then tell me why!” you scream at him, standing in the same place where it all began. Where he first appeared. In the darkness of your living room. “Tell me the truth—!”   “Because I’m your husband!”   Your breath hitches. Your heart stops in your chest. It lodges inside your throat.   “This. Everything,” Jin pants, words heavy on his lips. “I’m trying to help you. To prevent this future.”   It’s hard to speak. Hard to get past the painful lump swelled at the bottom of your throat. Hard to overcome the ache throbbing in your mind and inside your chest. “What...what do you mean?”   “I die. In the future, I die and leave you alone.” He holds your gaze, no longer afraid, no longer vague. Jin gives you what you wished for — the truth. “Every relationship has something wrong with it and you know what’s wrong with ours? I die. I leave you.”   Jin scrubs a hand over his face. In the shadows of your apartment and with the dim lights of the street lamps outside, you can see his reddened eyes, his visage etched with anguish.    “You didn’t need to know that. You don’t need to worry about me either. I’ll be fine. So just choose and avoid this end.”   A drawn out silence fills the spaces between your bodies — yours now tangible and his still translucent. All of Seokjin’s words sink into your skin, swallowed by your mind, consumed by your soul.   For the first time tonight, you know what you want.   “I don’t want to choose.”   A muscle by his brow jumps. “What?”   “If this happened for a reason…” Your feet root themselves into the ground. “...if there’s a reason why I ended up with none of these people, then that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”    But the ghostly man in front of you is as stubborn as you are. He doesn’t give up either.   “I won’t let that happen.”   “You don’t get to decide that.”   “I’m giving you an out!” he shouts in frustration. You’ve never seen him so upset — so distressed and exasperated. “You don’t have feelings for me! This should be easy for you!”   “Well, it’s not! I don’t want an out!”   “Why not?!”   “Because I know you love me,” you spit out at him and your voice quivers. You inhale until your lungs feel swollen, until it feels like regret could never touch you. “And whatever memories you have of us, whatever memories I have yet to make with you, I don’t want that to be taken away just because you die.”   “It doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head, solemn, conflicted, trying not to look at you. “None of that matters. It hasn’t happened to you yet—”   “You keep asking me what I think, what I want, so listen to me!” Your vocal cords strain inside your throat, desperate for him to pay attention, to really look at you. And he does. “You’re here to grant me my wish and I choose to be with you.”   Your voice softens. Your eyes become tender.   You can’t look at him the way he looks at you. Not yet. Almost. And you don’t want a future where you won’t be able to get there.    You’ve seen six imperfect worlds, but this world you have yet to fully witness. You can’t leave it behind before you do. Whatever’s in store, it’s the way it’s supposed to be. You’ll endure it.    If not for your sake, then for his.   “Even if it means the present and future pain, I won’t change my mind.” The two of you gaze at one another and as the seconds pass, the more sure you become. “No matter what, I’ll choose you.”   Seokjin’s eyes gloss over and your own vision blurs. The colours of your world become fuzzy with your clouded eyes, but you keep them trained on his face. Tracing against the slope of his nose, the dip of his cupid’s bow, the black strands of his hair that fall in front of his forehead.   “If I married you, there’s a reason for it. So you don’t get to decide — I do.”   “I should’ve known.” Jin sighs, shaking his head. “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”   Suddenly he looks up, past the ceiling, as if he hears something.   The corner of his lips curls and he looks at you once more as his translucent skin morphs transparent and you can see straight through his body as if he’s made of glass. “June 23rd,” he says as his fingertips dim, “Two years from now is the day of the car accident.”   “Jin!”    You scream after him. He smiles softly.   You rush forward, but he goes straight through you. Fading.    “Jin! No! Please!” But your cries are futile. Your attempts of holding onto him are vain. Your hands grab onto the air as he starts to dissolve, colour washing away, just like the many worlds you had traveled to together. “Don’t go!”   Seokjin tries to reach out to you but to no avail. “Thank you.”   “Don’t leave me!”   He whispers, “I love you.”   Jin vanishes. Gone from your sight. His voice lingering for mere moments. You cry out, crumbling in the spot he stood, reaching out only for your fists to be filled of air. No one is there to help when sobs break through your chest and you weep out his name. Salt bleeds from your eyes that still hold the memory of his tender gaze but it, too, has already begun to fade.   The six love letters sit untouched on the table as if nothing had happened.   The silence of your apartment is deafening.
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You wake up the next day with swollen eyes. It’s hard to peel them open, to look around your room and face the sunlight pouring through the windows. Your head pounds, your body aches and your chest throbs.    It’s hard to get out of bed.    There’s an overwhelming urge to tug the covers over your head and try to wrap your mind around what happened the night before, about what you now know. It would be easy to go back and assume everything was a fever dream or a mere hallucination. But you know better. He already proved to you that everything was real.   The sense of normalcy at work is what keeps you sane. Morning coffee and greetings, the same projects to work on and emails to send out. It’s easier to cope when a massive part of your life hasn’t dramatically changed. It’s almost like you can pretend things are still okay, that you’re okay. At the very least, it makes you glad that you dragged yourself out of bed and went to work.   “Did you catch the game last night, Y/N?” your coworker asks, pouring herself a cup of coffee.   “I didn’t actually. I was a bit busy last night.”   You try to look for Jin.   If he came to you as a ghost from the future, that means he’s still existing here in the present. It means you can find him. The last thing you want is to waste any more time. But you never asked him for his last name. Or where he’s from, or what he does, or where he lives. He had spent the entire time focused on you. And because of that, you barely know any detail about him — the whos, whats, when, where, and whys are missing. You don’t know anything.   It makes searching for him impossible. You can’t find Seokjin. No matter how hard you try. Not when there are thousands of people with the same name across the world — but only one you’re searching for.   So, you wait. Anxiously. But patiently.    You made a promise. You told him you could endure it. And that’s how you muster the strength to continue living your life, heading down the road you had chosen. Waiting for your paths to cross.   Waiting. Waiting.   Day by day.    Until the week passes.   “Conference room meeting, everyone!” your boss reminds the floor that’s already buzzing with excitement. Some folks bolt up from their cubicles while others are already on their way.    You can’t blame them. It might only be nine in the morning on a Monday, but people in the office have been looking forward to the new transfers for a while now considering it means the workload will be shared and thus, lessened for each person. It’ll be the end to those late nights.    “Did you see?” your coworker nudges you as you both walk down the hall. “There’s a really handsome new one.”   You smile, amused. “Really?”   “Yes!” A younger girl behind you gasps, having eavesdropped. She tries her best to keep her voice down in spite of the squeals. “I have! I wonder if he’s single, god I hope so.”   “Don’t keep your hopes up. Men like that usually already have someone else who’s snatched them up,” your coworker says with a small grin, causing the girl to deflate with a pout.   Everyone’s already taken their seats by the time you get to the conference room. You manage to snag an empty chair in the middle row as the last few stranglers enter. More often than not, any new hires are brought around on an office tour and introduced to anyone important. But you suppose since there were quite a handful of new people, your boss wanted to set up an official meeting to properly introduce them to everyone. Either way, you don’t mind. It’s nice not having to work.   “As you probably all heard, it’s true. We have a few new transfers from the Fresno branch, and they’ll be joining our team. I’d like all of you to give your warmest welcome—”   Your boss’ voice drowns out as your mind wanders.   It’s not until your coworker leans over and whispers that you snap back to attention. “That’s the handsome one.”   A lineup of five enter. And your eyes immediately fall onto the man at the very end.   Black hair. Plump lips. Bright eyes.   He stands at the front of the room in a brown coat, white shirt, dark slacks.    Your breath hitches. Your heart stutters. It skips a beat. It feels like your rib cage is tightening in on itself, winding around your heart, crushing the organ, making your chest ache.    You can’t stop staring at him. Even as your eyes start to mist and your vision fogs.   The whole universe seems to blur into the back where there’s just you and him.    It’s your intense gaze that makes him turn his head to you. He feels the weight of your stare and with one mere movement, his brown eyes lock with yours across the room. And he regards you with a cordial smile. The corner of his mouth upturn, cheeks puffing out ever so slightly.    Something painful lodges inside your throat.   You’re overwhelmed with an emotion that he doesn’t yet have for you. And he might not have it for a very long time, but it doesn’t matter, not right now.   It’s him. Jin.   His name is Kim Seokjin.
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His cubicle is beside yours. It was always an empty space, a spot where you placed your spare shoes and now you quickly remove them to make space for him and his belongings. He tries to get settled, placing down framed pictures of family and a fake plant by the lamp. The IT person swings by to make sure his computer is set up and throughout the entire process….   You can’t help but stare at him through the corner of your eye.   “Is there something on my face?”   He speaks to you mid-afternoon after lunch, leaning over in his chair, almost intruding in your space. He has a genuinely curious expression, hinted with slight worry. Yet his voice is melodic. Sweet. Calm. It feels like it’s been years since you’ve heard his voice, heard it directed towards you.    It’s not until he lifts a brow that you realize you haven’t answered him and it’s been over ten second. But your mouth is dry, and you open and close it, not sure what to say.    Your brain is short-circuiting. You need to get out of your head. You need to answer his question. It’s getting more and more awkward the longer you delay it and he’s starting to give you a concerned look—   “You’re just handsome.”   Fuck.    Immediately, you shut your eyes. You inwardly cringe, cursing yourself for blurting out something so stupid. You might as well slam your head against the desk and hope the earth swallows you whole. But really, it’s his fault. Jin’s the one who drilled how handsome he is inside your head. The dork practically brainwashed you and made you this dumb.   “I’m sorry.” You open your eyes again, swallowing hard. “I didn’t mean to say that. It was really unprofessional.”   But he laughs. It’s a bubbly sound that’s stirred from inside of him.    The corner of his mouth curls in amusement and his eyes gleam with mischief. “No, it’s alright. I get my looks from my mom, so I’m sure she’d appreciate it too. Y/N, right?”   “Y-Yeah.”    Your arm trembles as it stretches out, but he doesn’t notice and shakes your hand.    His smile becomes faint. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope we can be good deskmates.”   “If you have any questions, you can ask me,” you manage to say after swallowing hard.   “Thanks. I will.”   You turn away, gluing your eyes to your computer screen. It’s nerve-racking somehow. You’re hyperaware of him and his presence. You’re not sure how to act when he knows nothing about you and you know so much more about him — about who he becomes to you, about what happens in two years.   It’s not like you can tell him. It’s not like you can confess that his future self came to you the week before and the two of you went on a whole whirlwind of an adventure. You wouldn’t even believe yourself.   You wonder if this is how he felt.   “Y/N.”   You snap out of your trance, looking up to see another colleague. “Are you coming to the meeting?”   You scramble, grabbing the appropriate files, having forgotten completely. “Yes.”   You try to shelve everything away in your mind. The knowledge and tragedy of the future is too much of a burden to bear on your own. But you’ll follow through on your promise with him. You’ll follow through with your promise on choosing him and you’ll let life take its course until that time comes.   There’s a reason after all.   You won’t force anything or push it away.   With your best efforts, you focus on your work as if it’s like any other day. And it’s the perfect distraction. It keeps you sane as you fall into the same rhythm and routine. It’s comforting.   Sometimes Jin asks you for help and you offer him a hand, but nothing more. You try not to pay too much attention to your colleagues either. They sneak by, coming to fawn over him and even the girls from the other departments ask you what you know about the man. But as of right now, you know nothing. As of right now, you are nothing to each other….   “Are you going to get the document finished today, Y/N?” someone asks, stopping by your cubicle.   You spare a glance at the clock on the wall. “I’ll be done within an hour.”   With that said, you pour your focus into your work and your hands sprint across the computer keyboard. By the time the sun’s set, the document is finished and you’re able to click save.   It’s a huge relief and you stretch from your spot, lifting your arms above your head and rolling your neck to get the kinks out. Your stomach rumbles and you sigh, muttering to yourself, “Ugh, I’m starving.”   “I am too.”   You practically jump in your seat and you twist your head to find Jin standing at his cubicle, putting his arm through the sleeve of his brown coat. You didn’t realize he was still here.   He smiles, plump lips making the perfect ‘u’ shape and his cheeks, reminiscent of bread, puff out. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”   You tear your eyes away, forcing yourself to be calm and keep the conversation casual. This was nothing more than boring small talk made between colleagues.    “Not really, do you?”   You quickly click send. The email disappears from your drafts. You shut off the computer.   “I think I’m going to grab dinner, but I don’t really know where to go.”   “There’s a nice restaurant down the street.” You stand, taking your own coat. “They’re next to the deli. They have happy hour right around now and they serve pasta if you’re into that sort of thing.”   “Yeah, that sounds great.” Jin slings his brown messenger bag across his body, eyes still on you in spite of yours plastered on the wall. “But I’m actually terrible with directions. Maybe you could join me and lead the way?”   There’s a pause. Your head whirls to him.    He quickly adds— “If you want. No pressure whatsoever. I don’t want to make it weird or anything. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other since we’re deskmates and all...”   You blink at him. Stunned. And your mouth moves before you’ve had time to really process it.   “Sure.”   All at once, Seokjin’s nervousness melts away and a grin takes its place. His eyes glimmer. All he replies with is, “Great.”   You follow after him, and the history of the pair of you begins there. The ‘once upon a time’ is handwritten and inked into the pages of your story together. A love story with a forgotten prequel.
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Two days later, you go out for coffee. When you complain about how cold it is outside, Jin’s hand incidentally slips into yours. His hands are absolutely freezing, colder than yours are...   But you don’t tell him.
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Jin kisses you after the third date. It’s soft and sweet.   You catch him off guard when you kiss him again.
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The both of you start officially dating after two weeks. Your coworkers are dripping of jealousy and envy, but there’s nothing a few HR forms can’t fix.
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It’s after the sixth date that you invite him inside your apartment for a drink. It’s surreal to see him here again, curiously looking around for the first time even though for you, it isn’t.    But it doesn’t matter.    You don’t have to dwell when it ends with you on the mattress, his lips all over your skin, your nails dug into the planes of his broad shoulders. And during breakfast the next morning, he accidentally says I love you. He blurts it out across the small table as your cheeks are filled with sunny-side up eggs. He doesn’t know that you’ve already felt that way long before he has.
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Jin starts sleeping over regularly a month into the relationship. Not long after that, you meet his friends and he meets yours, and you’re introducing each other to your parents. They all love him — his sense of humour, his silliness, how he takes care of you; it’s all the parts that you adore.   Your mom tells you how happy she is for you.   And as nervous as you are to meet his family, they’re no different from him.   He was right in saying they would love you if he loved you.
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Later one peaceful afternoon, Jin confesses — “I was actually nervous asking you out.”
You turn to him with a small laugh, smiling from ear to ear. “I thought the infamous and ever charming Kim Seokjin doesn’t get nervous.”   “Yeah.” He’s sheepish but honest. “Guess you’re the exception.”   Another giggle bursts through you and you come over to comb your fingers through his dark hair, letting it fluff up on top of his head. Jin leans into your touch, indulging in being coddled by you. “You actually have nerves of steel to ask me out to dinner on the first day when you just got there.”   The corner of his mouth upturns. “What can I say? I’m impatient. I had to shoot my shot. But I asked someone earlier in the day if you were seeing anyone.”   “And?”   “Of course I was relieved when they said no. But I thought you would still reject me.”   You grin, putting your arms around him. You squish your cheek against his backside. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. But why’d you want to ask me for dinner in the first place? There were so many other people.”   “You were cute,” he says. “Especially when you blurted out that I was handsome. I don’t think anyone’s said that out loud to my face before.”   You roll your eyes, and he laughs.
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Months pass with the two of you falling asleep on the sofa together, of you waking up to him making coffee in your kitchen. Kim Seokjin, the man with broad shoulders and mischievous eyes, becomes a constant in your life like it always has been since the start. It comes to a point where it’s almost as if he’s moved in — toothbrush at your place, his clothes in your laundry.   “What is this?” One night, you find him standing at the closet in the hall with a small box in hand. The lid’s fallen off and he looks inside, brows raised with an incredulous expression.    You already know what it is by a mere glance. “I used to write love letters.”   Jin’s curiosity is piqued. “Oh. Can I read them?”    “You can if you want to, but it’s not important. None of them are.”    The letters have long lost their meaning to you. The only value they have now is the fact that they began your adventure with Seokjin. All those experiences validate what you have now.   And they’re your only mementos of the forgotten prequel.   The corner of his mouth lifts as he picks up an envelope. Jin’s eyes flicker to you. “You never wrote one for me?”   You return his tender smile. “I didn’t need to.”   The pair of you slots so perfectly into one another’s lives that you don’t doubt the choice you made. Even when you’re arguing about dishes in the sink or he’s following after you, apologizing for forgetting an anniversary. Those little things that matter in the moment don’t in the months that come.
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The following year, your birthday is spent inside.    It’s nothing special. A rather mundane celebration. Small streamers, a ‘happy birthday’ banner he tacked onto the wall, and a cake for two stored in the fridge. Jin sticks one of those silly birthday hats with a pompom on the end onto your head and he makes sure to take enough pictures until you have to force him to quit harassing you. It’s as if he’s the paparazzi and you’re some star — an idea where he flirtatiously affirms with a “well, you are the light of my life.”   On that day, it’s just the two of you and the intimacy of your apartment.    Jin cooks the most delicious dinner you’ve ever had. Not because of his culinary expertise, but because he’s the one who made it. And it’s in the middle of the meal that your eyes suddenly gloss over, your vision blurs and a teardrop pooled by your bottom lashes drips down your cheek.   Jin stops talking, having been in the midst of telling you about his grocery store trip. Immediately, alarm washes over his expression and his brows furrow. “What’s wrong?”   You shake your downcast head, forcing your voice to tremble out, “I’m just...really happy.”   His chair squeaks. His footstep pads. Then you feel his arms wrap around you.   You lean into him, savouring his warmth and the coziness that he’s made out of your home. He doesn’t know that a year ago on the same day, you were alone. That he came and took you to worlds you would have never known. A year ago, you had made him a promise and he had disappeared right in your grasps. Jin is clueless — to your adventures, to your decision.   When you blow out the candle on the cake, you wish for this happiness to last.
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Jin pops the question after a year of being together.   It happens after a date night. He comes down on his knee in front of the apartment, underneath the warm glow of a street light and you brush it off as him tying his shoelaces. You’re too busy admiring the stars to realize, and it’s only when you look back at him that you find him there with a small box in his hand.   “I’m sorry for not making it more special,” he murmurs, nervousness etched on his expression. “I was supposed to ask you earlier but then the waiter came out and then at the park, that truck was being noisy, but if I don’t do it now, I don’t think I’ll ever work up the courage to do it again.”   His voice is soft. His gaze tender.    Jin looks at you as if you’re the one who hung those stars in the sky.   “Y/N, you’re the only one who can make me this nervous and afraid and I love you. So will you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me?”   You cry when he speaks the words. The tears slip from your eyes, spilling down your cheeks and colour drains from his face when he sees it. Jin’s entire face falls.   But then you launch forward and a peal of laughter bubbles from his throat as the both of you fall back onto the sidewalk with your arms wrapped around his shoulders.   He grins, mouth stretched from ear to ear as he looks up at the night sky at those subtly twinkling stars. “Is that a yes or no?”   You pull away from him, laughing. “Of course.”   When the pair of you kiss, you feel your smiles press against one another’s lips and when you pull away, Jin gazes at you with softened eyes.    That memory doesn’t fade. It becomes imprinted in the kaleidoscope of your irises. 
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Most who know your relationship with Jin are excited and thrilled by the news. But some are surprised at how fast it’s happening and that you’re on your way to getting married already. It makes you wonder if everything between you two is fast. Yet at the same time, it doesn’t feel fast enough.   It always feels like you’re running out of time.   You’re engaged for ten months. During that time, he officially moves in and starts looking at houses for when your lease is up. While wiggling his brows, he tells you that you’ll need a bigger bedroom and make room for the kids. But…   “Not yet.” You swallow hard, looking back at him. “Let’s wait to look.”   Jin stares at you blankly. But you don’t offer an explanation. You merely muster a smile.    “July,” you promise. “Let’s look in July.”    “Okay.”
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It’s a Spring wedding in April.   Small. Intimate. Filled with your friends and family at a garden venue right when the flowers are blooming. The weather is clear and it’s beautiful. When you walk down the aisle, Jin looks starstruck and in the middle of the opening remarks, he stutters out how pretty you are in a quiet murmur which makes you giggle. Your hand squeezes his and neither of you once let go.   Your vows make him tear up and his makes you cry.    Jin swears he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’ll be together, in sickness and in health.
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The honeymoon is three weeks on a beach resort in the Caribbean.   The dreaded date is coming closer and closer.   “What’s wrong?” He comes up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as you’re looking out the glass balcony doors, having been silent for the past five minutes.   It’s a rainy day. They said it was unlucky weather, but the constant pitter-patter is soothing.   You turn around, looping your arms around his neck. “I love you.”    The words are sincerely spoken, each syllable laced with warm affection. Immediately, the corner of his lips tug. You make sure Jin’s listening when you tell him— “I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”   “Good,” he says. “I wouldn’t give you away to anyone else so easily.”
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As the days pass, you become more anxious of June 23rd.   It feels like you’re counting down to the date and only when he’s beside you, do you feel a sense of relief. Only when Jin is there does the grief and worry sewn deep inside of you wane away. But it still doesn’t stop you from holding him close — hands tangled through his, grasping at him, hugging him at night. You’re petrified of waking up to find him vanished from your arms. Or to see his skin glass-like, translucent to your eye.    You have nightmares of your hand reaching out to feel the air instead of his warmth.   Still, your decision is the same. You don’t regret choosing Seokjin and making the choice to be with him even though you’re enduring this. You wouldn’t change anything up to now.    But that doesn’t mean you’re content with letting things happen. You’ll change that day. No matter what. You won’t let Jin die. It’s a vow you swear to yourself. An oath you cross your aching heart with.   “Is something happening next week?”   He looks over your shoulder to the calendar date you’ve circled in red ink. June 23rd.   “I think we should take a vacation day off.”   “What? Why?”   “We just should.” You realize your voice is too firm, so you try to ease it. “We’ve been busy.”   “But why the 23rd?” Jin moves away, tugging the covers of the bed to crawl in. “Why not this Friday and have a long weekend?”   “No!” Your own yell echoes in your ears and Jin looks taken aback by your reaction. You shut your eyes and sigh, attempting to calm down. “It has to be the 23rd. It’s really, really important to me.”   He blinks owlishly. There’s a pause.    “Did I forget an anniversary?”   “No.” You step away, joining him in bed. “That’s not it.”   Jin has a skeptical and curious expression, but he gives in. “Okay.”    //   Seven.   Six.   Five.   The days come and go. The minute and the hour passes. Closer and closer.   You can tell Jin is worried with how silent you become, staring out the window, at the wall without saying a single word. You can barely work, barely eat and the nights are worse. They’re sleepless and you spend the entire eight hours holding onto him. It’s only when he’s asleep do you turn to mold yourself against his backside and cry into his shirt.   Sometimes you get too loud and Jin’s stirred from his sleep, waking up to ask you what’s wrong. But you can’t answer him, so he holds you close.   Four.   Three.   Two.   The stress is eating at you. You can’t swallow down your food, can’t shut your eyes for longer than a brief moment, can’t think of anything other than what might happen. There’s such little time left you have to save your husband and that thought consumes you.    It makes you throw up. It’s making your hair fall out. Sometimes you can’t breathe because of it and you feel your chest tightening painfully. You don’t know what you can do to save him. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. But you can’t accept it. You can’t lose him.   You have yet to spend your lives together.   Jin presses his hand against your forehead, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and smiling gently. “You’re running warm. It’s probably a fever. We’re lucky we have tomorrow off.”   You wonder if you worked yourself up into sickness. But it doesn’t matter.                           June 23rd comes.   “Y/N.”    There’s a soft, distant call of your name through a silken, smooth voice. You open your eyes to see Jin with his brows furrowed, carefully brushing away a strand of hair from your wet forehead. You’re doused in sweat and it’s made your pajama shirt stuck to your backside. At the same time, you’re shivering. No matter how many blankets are layered on top of you, it’s still cold.   Your arm reaches out and his hand slips into yours. Jin helps you sit up and lean against the headboard. He hands you a warm glass of water and you try to sip it slowly.   Jin searches your dull complexion. “Maybe we should go see a doctor—”   “No!”   The shout tears from your raw throat and his eyes widen. Immediately, your shaking hand latches onto his wrist, an iron grip has your knuckles turning white. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. You can’t leave today. No matter what, you can’t leave.”   If it wasn’t for the severity of your tone and the frantic way the words are spat from your trembling lips, Jin would be amused and curious. Instead, you make him confused and worried.    “Why not?”   You swallow hard, eyes stinging red as your heart lodges into your throat. “I...have a bad feeling today. A really, really bad feeling.”   Jin gently smiles and gingerly reaches out to cup your cheek. “Did you have a bad dream or read my horoscope somewhere?”   “It doesn’t matter. Just promise me.” You tug him closer as he sets the half-filled glass of water on the bedside table. You make him look at you. “Promise me, Jin. If you love me, you'll stay here.”   “Okay, okay.” He sighs in defeat, all in an effort to appease you. “I promise I won’t go anywhere.”   Yet he pulls away from your hold and stands. “I’ll go make you some food.”   “Can’t you just stay here?” you beg and your gazes lock into one another’s. “Please?”   There’s a long silence held, and your desperation finally gets through to him. Jin smiles with a small huff and climbs into bed with you. He tugs the covers all the way up to your shoulders, but it’s his toasty skin that gives you the warmth that wanes away the chills. And you mold yourself to his front, clutching his shirt as his arms wrap around you.   The two of you look at one another and your gaze traces the slope of his nose, the pillowy shape of his lips, the way his brown irises catch the morning sunlight peeking through the curtains.   You wish you could capture this memory and return to it. Instead of traveling to worlds unknown, to timelines you were never supposed to know, it’s this hour that you want to savour forever.   “Jin.”   “Hmm?”   “I love you.”   He sheepishly smiles. “What’s with you today?” But he still returns your feelings and pulls you closer into his chest, keeping you close. “I love you too.”   You try to keep your eyes open. You try to keep your fists clenched onto his shirt. But his lids flutter, droop, and close; and you, too, fall asleep in the quietness of your shared bedroom.   Jin wakes up first.   He wakes up a few hours later and gently presses his hand to your forehead that’s still hot to the touch. He sighs and wipes away a tear stain left on your cheek, listening to the sound of your painful, shallow breathing. And he decides to slip away from your arms.    He climbs out of bed without you knowing. His footsteps are quiet as they pad across the floorboards into the bathroom. He’s unable to find medicine in the cabinet.    Seokjin walks across the room. He fixes his hair of its ruffled mess and quickly changes into dark pants. He takes the brown coat from the closet.    Jin looks at you one last time before he breaks his promise.   The front door shuts before you’ve awakened. Before you can stop him.   A difference of a few minutes is all it takes. It’s enough to alter your entire lives.   The cold, empty side of the bed makes you stir. You reach out unconsciously and the moment your hand feels the empty air instead of his warmth, you’re shaken awake. When you sit up, the universe is spinning and your head throbs.    You call out for him— “Jin?”   The silence of your apartment is deafening.   Sheer panic takes hold of your body and you stumble out of bed, only to trip over the sheets and crash onto the floor. Your knees burn, left wrist shoots of pain, but your teeth sink into the bottom of your lip and you pull yourself up again. “Jin?!”   Please. Please be here.   “Seokjin?!”   You look into the bathroom, into the kitchen, into the living room.   “Kim Seokjin!”   He’s gone. Vanished. You stumble out of your apartment without your shoes.   The elevator takes too long, and you’re left rushing down the stairs as the skin of your feet begin to peel. You throw yourself down the flight before the door’s whipped open, before you make it out. The blazing sun makes your vision blurry as you whip your head in all directions.   It’s then that the world sinks into you. The smells and sounds. The blaring sirens down the street.    Your breath hitches. And you stagger forward, legs carrying the rest of your body.   Traffic has completely stopped. There are people out of their cars, stopped at the sidewalks. You wonder why. Police cars. You wonder what’s happened. An ambulance. He promised.   “—over here!”   “....fell asleep at the wheel.”    “Can we get a—”   “—hit a pedestrian.”   The scream rips through your body before you can realize it’s from you. “Jin!”    Someone in a uniform blocks you, but you try to push past them. “He’s my husband! He’s my husband! Please!”    They let you go, and you scramble towards the scene with your bloodied feet. There’s someone speaking to you, but you can’t hear him. The sight is being imprinted to your eyes — Jin laying on the ground, bleeding from his head, his blood soaking the gray concrete crimson. His face is scratched and cut, skin swollen, already budding with bruises. You can barely recognize him.    “Jin!” Maybe if you call him enough times, he’ll wake up and look at you again. “Seokjin!” Maybe if you’re loud enough he can still hear you and you’ll be able to tell him you love him. After all, no matter how many times you say it, he’ll never be able to understand just how deeply you feel.   Maybe if he can hear you...he’ll come back.   “Jin!” In the blurred background, someone is trying to calm you down. They’re trying to get you to breathe, to stop wailing and sobbing, to stop fighting against them. But someone else tells them to let you ride in the ambulance and you’re able to take Jin’s hand as the stretcher goes in.   His fingers are limp in your grasps. His palm doesn’t clutch yours. You’re the one who squeezes.   A moment ago, he still looked at you with those tender eyes. That soft gaze. As if you were the only thing he wants to look at. As if you’re the one who hung the stars in the sky.   It isn’t fair. You have yet to spend your lives together.   You keep calling out to him. You keep holding his hand. Please, don’t go.   It didn’t help. Even if you knew what was going to happen. Even if you tried to savour these past two years. Even if you tried your best — you couldn’t stop it. Don’t leave me.    You couldn’t stop this inevitability.
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It came out of nowhere.   As always, he should’ve listened to you. He should’ve looked at you for a bit longer, should’ve chosen his last words to you more carefully. But what he wishes for most is for you not to be alone.   Jin’s sure you’ll be heartbroken when you find out. And he wonders what the chances are that you’ll move on from a silly guy like him with how stubborn you are.   I’m sorry.   You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to be alone.   In the darkness of his fleeting consciousness, Kim Seokjin pleads to whatever god is out there, to any deity, to the universe itself, to grant his dying wish. He begs them. For his wife, whom he loves more than anything, not to waste her life on him, to not be alone.   I want her to be with someone who can make her happy.   And through sheer will itself — something out there hears him; someone’s mercy is given.   When Jin feels the tickle of his lash, he opens his eyes and sees you.   On the couch. At night. Pouring yourself an entire glass of wine and gulping it down before you’re placing a single candle in the center of a small cake on the coffee table.    There are six envelopes discarded by your side.   Jin watches as the lighter sparks with a single flick of your thumb against the wheel. He smiles as you light the tip of the candle. And in the darkness of the apartment and the street lights casting dimly through the windows, he’s there when the tiny flame glows warmly against your features.   “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Y/N…” you’re murmuring the song to yourself, singing quietly. “Happy birthday to you.”   You take another long sip of the red wine and when you finally blow out the flickering candle, Jin hears your wish. The words murmured through timidly parted lips, the one hope you have, a singular ache that can be summed into five words—   “I wish I wasn’t alone.”   You drink, eat the cake and Jin observes as you doze off.   He knows this is a time before he’s known you, before you’ve known him. A time where your paths have yet to intersect. This is his last wish. His last chance. He can change your future.   Even if he has to watch you be happy with every person but himself, he’ll endure it. Even if he’ll have to be there when you make your decision and you’ll never have the memories that you’ve made together, he won’t stop. He’ll set aside his own feelings. He’ll undo it all. Kim Seokjin vows he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure there will be someone there for you when he can’t be.   He materializes. Jin looks down at his hands to see them becoming translucent and he feels his feet touch the floor. Then his sights stray to you again, his eyes softening, gaze tender.    This might hurt him more than he’ll ever be able to admit, but at least he gets to meet you again.   The corner of his mouth tugs and he calls out your name—   “Y/N.”
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You hold his hand.   Jin’s laid upon the bed, hooked up to tubes and lines, machines that whir and beep every so often. He hasn’t stabilized. The doctors told you that they don’t know when he’s going to wake up. If he even will. They’ll have to wait and see. Hope for the best. But they tell you to prepare for the worst.   His family came and so did yours. Crying filled the hallway and someone tried to comfort you, but you didn't want to hear any of it.    You stay by Jin’s bedside, grasping his cold hand, watching him.   Throughout the entire night, you never leave his side. Even if your body still runs warm and your head throbs, you stay together, right where you’re supposed to be.   He’s not dead. Jin hasn’t left. Not yet. And you’ll hang onto every strand of hope until your last breath. You won’t give up on him. Not when you still have things left to say to him, things you want to do, time that you have yet to spend together.   Time. You wonder if he’s changed back time. If his consciousness is somewhere else right now.   He’s an idiot for ever thinking you’d want to be with someone else. For ever thinking you could love someone as much as you love him. No matter what happens, Jin will always be the person you choose.   You come close to him and call out, hoping he can still hear—   “Jin.” Your voice croaks and trembles. Each syllable is spoken slowly. “Jin…”   And you repeat what you told him two years ago.   “Kim Seokjin. I love you.” You squeeze his hand, leaning down as the colours of your world become fuzzy with your clouded eyes. But you keep them trained on his face. “I love you. I wouldn’t change anything about you….about me...about us.”   You still mean what you had said back then. You mean every single word.   “No matter what, I would choose you over and over again. Even if I have to sit here...even if I have to sit here and wait a lifetime. So please,” the prayer befalls your lips, “Just come back to me. Wake up. Come back.”   You cry out, crumbling in your spot, forehead reverently pressing against the edge of the bed. You tighten your hand against his as sobs break through your chest and you weep out his name. Salt bleeds from your eyes that still holds the memories you’ve made together.   And as you call out for your husband, hoping he can still hear, you feel the twitch of his finger.   Instantaneously, you jolt, lifting your head. His eyes open a tiny sliver, enough for you to see the warm, brown hue and you call his name— “Jin!”   He blinks and his head slightly turns towards the sound of your voice, heart monitor beeping faster.   “Help!” You get up. “My husband—!”   A nurse runs in from the commotion, and soon, a parade of doctors enter. You stand back as they flurry around him, someone flashing a light into his eyes. “Sir, if you can hear me, can you raise your right hand?”   It takes a minute. And slowly, shakingly, Jin lifts it.    You silence your sob behind your palm.   “Sir, you were in a car accident yesterday afternoon—”   He never died like he thought he did. He’s alive.   In the chaos, Jin’s eyes travel to you, locking into your eyes. Your sobs heave, breaking through your chest once more and the flood of teardrops paints your cheeks through saltwater.   His gaze is tender, and you know now it means ‘I love you’.    Even if it means the present and future pain, you wouldn’t change being with him.
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Jin calls your name, and you turn at the sound of his voice.
“This isn’t a dream, right?” he asks, and you laugh.
“No, it isn’t.”
He hums, still looking out the window quietly. It makes you approach, gingerly studying his profile. “What are you thinking?”
“Just wondering what would’ve happened if you really chose someone else over me.”
You scoff. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t.”
The corner of his mouth tugs and he turns to you. “You’re too good for all of them anyway.”
Your brow lifts at that. “What about you?”
“I barely make the cut.” He grins, eyes glimmering of mischief. “That’s why I have to work hard all the time.”
Another quiet laugh comes from you and you make your way back to the table. “Get over here. I need to blow out the candles before it gets past midnight.”
Jin smiles. “Coming.”
The road to recovery was long and difficult. Two months were spent in the hospital and you were by his side during rehabilitation. But the two of you made it.
Sometimes, it’s still hard. There are moments where you wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares of a different outcome of that day. Other days, he wakes with the fear that you’ve forgotten about him and the time you’ve spent together. And it’s during these times that you find solace when you see one another a few inches away and you find comfort in each other’s arms. 
But slowly and surely, the fears of that day, and the months leading up to it, fade.
It no longer feels like you’re running out of time. It never feels like the end is near. And as Jin reassures, you have the rest of your lives to be together. He always promises that he’ll make sure of it. 
Before you can light the candles on your cake, Seokjin stops you. 
“What are you going to wish for?”
“I don’t know,” you admit after thinking. “It doesn’t feel like I need anything anymore. Any ideas?”
“How about the previous owners call us and tell us they’re giving that house to us for free,” he quips with his cheeks puffing out from his smile and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Or that our baby boy comes out as good looking as his father.”
“It’s going to be a girl, you know.”
Another grin spreads into his cheeks, eyes flickering down to the swell of your stomach. “I wouldn’t mind. But you should trust my intuition, sweetheart.”
You quirk your head at him. “When have I been wrong?”
“That’s true too,” Jin concedes with a softened smile and he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. It’s a brief brush, warm and loving, but long enough that you can inhale his breath and he can taste your minty lip balm that lingers even after he pulls away. Jin wraps his arms around you, molding his body against yours and propping his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs, “I love you.”
“I love you.” You lean into his embrace as a sweet smile tickles onto your lips. “Now let me light the candles.”
In the coziness of your home, the flames glow warmly against your features. The twinkle of the candlelight illuminates both you and Seokjin standing together, by each other’s side.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, my dear Y/N…” he sings noisily with a massive grin, theatrically clapping, hooting and hollering, and making you embarrassed even when it’s just the two of you. “Happy birthday to you!”
For some reason, you have an inkling it’s not necessary to make a wish. You don’t need to blow out a candle or name a desire in your head. You’ve already made your vows and promises and together, you’ve stood the test of life, death, and time. There’s nothing more you need.
But as the warmth of Jin’s voice tapers off, you shut your eyes and make your wish anyway— 
For the pair of you to be together. Until the end.
1K notes · View notes
kpopfanfictrash · 3 months ago
Exes and Superher-o’s (II)
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Author: @kpopfanfictrash​ , as part of the Similarly Sequestered game with @underthejoon​​ , @gukslut​​​ , @stutterfly​​ and @fortunexkookie​​​
Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for the amazing, perfect moodboard
Pairing: Seokjin / Reader (female)
Genre: Superheroes / Exes
Word Count: 33,307
NSFW Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Oral (male and female receiving), somewhat rough blow job/face fucking, dirty talk, rough sex, spanking, fingering, big dick, slight body worship. 
Trigger Warnings: Intense action scenes. Major characters experience injuries, including shoulder dislocation, fractured ribs, a concussion, a sprained wrist + pinky, bullet wounds to the leg and abdomen. A character’s hand is blown off. Under the influence of hypnosis, a character nearly inflicts self-harm.  
Summary: Things were just starting to look up in your life. You were this close to capturing the villain, had finally patched things up with your globally adored, superhero boyfriend, and then – BOOM. A damn twist ending had the audacity to ruin things. Now, you’ve been labeled the villain along with your handler, Jungkook, and a powerful, surly teenager who distrusts anything to do with your former organization. Facing insurmountable obstacles and swiftly running out time, will you be able to fight evil, save the world and reunite with your boyfriend? 
Author’s Note: I highly recommend reading the first part of this story, linked below, before reading the second :) I hope you enjoy!
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“Holy hell.” Taehyung lets out a low whistle. “Do that again.”
Embarrassed, Katie glances at the titanium cuffs which lie at her feet. For the past hour, she’s demonstrated her ability to resist titanium metal. You’re forced to admit, the results are enviable.
Even from here, you’re able to feel the pull of the cuffs; that slight dampening of superpower which runs in your veins. It’s the reason handlers always carry their cuffs tucked safely away. Simply being around the metal is enough to hinder your abilities. This doesn’t seem to be the case for made supers.
You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve been subjected to the full effects of titanium, but each instance was hard to forget. Especially last time, when you were forced to your knees in an alley, blinded and cuffed as your superpowers were drained. Until Seokjin stepped in and saved you, that is.
Shaking the memory away, you glance sideways at Jungkook. He pants, chest rising and falling from the exertion of fighting Katie. Today he pulled the short stick and is the one in the ring – the literal boxing ring attached to the side of Namjoon’s lake house.
Jungkook and Taehyung are handlers, which means they’re humans trained to fight alongside superheroes. Jungkook has been paired as your handler since the Academy, just like Taehyung and Namjoon were assigned together.
Namjoon, also known by his superhero alias, Brainblast, has seated himself crisscross on the lawn, scribbling on a notepad he holds. Twenty minutes ago, you asked what he was doing, only for Namjoon to mumble something about forces and trajectory before descending into jargon you couldn’t quite follow. This tend to happen a lot when talking to Namjoon, whose power of knowledge absorption usually makes him the smartest person in the room.
Knowledge absorption is both awesome, and overwhelming. Simply brushing a book allows Namjoon to understand the fundamentals of string theory. Hugging his mom could translate to knowing a perfect kimchi soup recipe. Lately, Namjoon has been turning the full power of his knowledge absorption on helping Katie.
Namely, helping her control her powers and figuring out how Katie differs from other supers.
Katie was the product of a plan hatched by ISA (International Superhero Agency). Usually, ISA simply trains new supers and matches them to take down villains. Operation Made was a secret program which took normal humans and gave them superpowers. Katie was normal before she entered the program and now, well – she’s not.
Gifted with superspeed, telekinesis and teleportation, Katie is the most powerful among you. She’s also able to resist titanium, a metal considered kryptonite for most supers. You and Namjoon used to work for ISA, until – well, Namjoon still works for ISA. It’s just you and Jungkook who are currently on the run.
Pushing himself to his feet, Jungkook dusts off his thighs.
He’s been sparring with Katie on and off all morning, testing how she reacts to various weapons. The cuffs on the ground used to be on her wrists until Katie snapped them off with telekinesis.
“Huh.” Tilting his head, Jungkook stares at the metal. “That’s new.”
Continuing to write, Namjoon turns the page of his notepad. “It is.” He frowns, staring at the page. “Katie, do you think you could return the cuffs to their previous state?”
Katie looks at them, dubious. “Maybe?”
Gathering her concentration, she sticks out a hand and – nothing happens. Frown deepening, Katie tries harder, but the handcuffs only crumple further.
Her expression sags.
“Why… don’t we take a break,” you suggest, standing up from the ground. “We’ve been out here for a while. Jungkook didn’t put on enough sunscreen for this.”
Rolling his eyes, your handler turns around. “My skin’s just fine,” he says. “But Y/N’s right. Let’s take a break.”
Relieved, Katie nods.
She leaves for the house, her curly, brown ponytail bouncing as she goes. Despite all her power, Katie is still just a teenager. She entered the ISA when she turned eighteen and was held in their facility for over a year until she escaped.
Katie is the reason you and Jungkook are currently considered outlaws. About a month ago, you were paired with your then-ex-boyfriend to apprehend a new supervillain. A supervillain who turned out to be Katie, who’s no more a villain than either you or Seokjin.
Once you and Seokjin realized this, both of you switched sides and helped Katie escape. Since then, you’ve worked to expose the ISA for what they’ve done. Namjoon and Taehyung offered to help, hiding you at their lake house while you think of a plan.
Entering the side door, Katie disappears from your view. It’s been barely a week since your arrival, and already, you can feel yourself going crazy. No more than a week since leaving your former life; seven days since you last saw Seokjin.
Really, the only upside of the situation has been you getting back together with Seokjin. Immediately following though, you were forced to separate again. Your thoughts must show on your face, since Jungkook comes to a stop at your side.
“Thinking of him?” he asks quietly.
Jaw tight, you nod.
Exhaling, Jungkook glances again at the house. “I’m sure Yoongi will contact us soon.”
You wish you could nod, but at this point, it’d just be a lie.
Yoongi is Seokjin’s handler, otherwise known by his superhero alias, WWH (World-Wide Hero). When ISA realized you knew about Operation Made, only you and Jungkook were implicated. Seokjin and Yoongi chose to stay behind, pretending to know nothing and working to take ISA down from the inside.
It means you haven’t seen him since. Reaching out would seem suspicious, since everyone thinks you and Seokjin remain broken up.
“I know,” you sigh, starting towards the house. “That’s all we can do, right? Wait.”
“Right.” Taehyung falls into step alongside you and Jungkook. “What are we waiting for, exactly?”
Although you smile at him, Jungkook rolls his eyes.
Both Jungkook and Taehyung have a reputation of excellence within the Agency. From what you’ve seen so far, their friendship seems to be built on constant competition. At the gym, they bicker over who can lift the most weight. At the shooting range, they challenge each other to hit the most targets.
The point is moot since both are ridiculously talented. Becoming a handler is no easy feat, even without superpowers. The recruitment process is intense, training is even worse and only one in three candidates end up graduating.
Handlers are required to be proficient in martial arts, experts in espionage and basically, certified in HR. There’s a lot of superhero babysitting involved with the job.
Or that’s what Jungkook likes to say, anyways. Ironically enough, this last item is the one Jungkook is worst at. Taehyung is much better with people skills, practically bounding with enthusiasm each time you see him.
You brought this up once to Jungkook, who said this was because Namjoon is a much easier super to work with. You stopped asking after that.
“We’re talking about Yoongi,” you inform Taehyung. “I was just saying how frustrating it is to be kept in the dark.”
Taehyung nods, sympathetic. “Completely. It’s probably a good idea to lay low for a while, though. At least until we find out what the ISA knows.”
On your other side, Jungkook nods. In this, at least, they’re in agreement.
The safest thing for you to do is to wait, even though it’s driving you crazy. You aren’t sure ISA bought your ruse – they could be simply biding their time, waiting until you contact Seokjin before moving in.
It’s also the safest course of action for Namjoon and Taehyung. Although they’ve been kind enough to let you stay, the risk to themselves is great. Until you’re sure the ISA doesn’t know where you are, it’s best to keep a low profile.
As far as hideouts go, the lake house is top tier. Namjoon’s knowledge absorption means he’s an amateur inventor – much in the same way Elon Musk could be called an amateur douchebag. Both are top of their fields. The place is a veritable fortress containing a plasma protection field, radio jammers, heat-seeking missiles and a complicated reflectin wall designed by Namjoon himself.
Most of this means nothing to you, but Namjoon seemed excited while going down the list, so you gather it’s impressive. Ultimately, his lake compound is one of the most locked-down locations on the planet – including ISA headquarters.
Paused outside, you allow the door to scan your retina before entering. Namjoon remains outside on the lawn, although you’re sure he’ll wander in once he realizes you’re gone.
Removing your shoes, you enter the kitchen and find Katie at the counter. Over the rim of her water, she offers a smile before glancing warily at Jungkook and Taehyung. Her aversion to handlers stems from her time in Operation Made. Apparently, some of Jungkook and Taehyung’s colleagues were less principled in their agreement to help ‘train’ the recruits.
Training is a loose word for what they did. Everything you’ve learned about Operation Made has only served to spark further outrage. The roots of the program go back to the last Super War; when villains teamed up against the original supers and nearly destroyed the planet.
In the wake of this destruction, ISA decided to prepare themselves for the next war. Operation Made was initiated to create more supers, offering additional heroes for the world should villains strike again.
It took nearly sixty years for ISA to perfect their method for developing superpowers. Yoongi forwarded you details of the process which impressed even Namjoon, calling it a marvel of DNA splicing decades beyond current technology. Even so, the science remains unpredictable. The most noticeable unintended side effect has to be the made supers’ immunity to titanium.
Essentially, ISA created supers and then realized they had no way to control them. Placing the program on hold, they researched other ‘solutions.’ Solutions also being a word you use loosely. According to Katie, ISA’s solutions were little more than torture.
Each made super was kept in a separate titanium cell, until ISA realized this didn’t work. From then on, all made supers were kept drugged. Katie explained that for months she was held in alternating states of numbness and hyperawareness. The latter being for training purposes. ISA was obsessed with discovering how strong she was, how many powers she had, and their testing methods for discovery were less than humane.
Made supers were thrust between hot and cold states, submerged in full tanks of water, and dangled from buildings. Katie’s superspeed was discovered while ISA tortured her friend, Roa, in the next room.
Roa was the first made super to escape, providing a blueprint for Katie to follow. Part of Katie’s agreement to help is contingent upon finding him, too. That part of the plan has yet to be finalized, given you currently don’t know where Roa is.
Opening the fridge, Jungkook removes an apple. Hesitating, he crosses the room and takes a seat beside Katie. Ignoring the way she stiffens, he takes a bite of his snack. Although you know it’s nothing personal, you’re sure it must bother him.
Despite his blunt demeanor, Jungkook is incredibly kind. He became a handler because he wanted to help people and thought he could best achieve this by aiding the supers.
Although you’ve explained this to Katie, she remains wary, and you can’t say you blame her. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind though, shutting the fridge to hop up on the counter. Deftly peeling an orange, he ignores Jungkook’s wince at his lack of kitchen manners.
“So.” Taehyung swings his legs. “Katie. We’ve been living together for nearly a week, and I feel like we know you, but don’t know you – you know?”
Katie blinks. There was a lot of the word know in one sentence.
“I, uh…” She glances between you and Jungkook. “There’s not much to know?”
Taehyung nods, continuing to peel his orange. “Well, let’s start with the basics. What’s your favorite color.”
“Great choice.” He looks up and grins. “Mine’s blue, that’s close.”
Unable to help himself, Jungkook snorts.
Taehyung shoots him a look. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” He shakes his head. “This conversation is ridiculous.”
“Is it? Oh, I see.” Taehyung slowly nods. “You’re feeling left out. You wanted me to ask about your favorite color. I get it.”
“That’s definitely not it.”
“Hm. Favorite color. I think…” Taehyung squints. “Puce.”
“Puce?” Jungkook’s expression morphs from disinterest to outrage. “Out of all the colors that could be my favorite, you chose puce?”
“Puce is a nice color,” Katie adds, trying to hide her smile.
“Puce sounds like puke,” Jungkook says flatly. “Before any of you make worse guesses, my favorite color is ebony.”
“So, black,” you surmise.
“Black makes sense,” Taehyung says. “You do come across as kind of emo.”
When Katie laughs at this, Jungkook looks at the ceiling, as though in search of divine help. Before either of you can respond, the conversation is interrupted by static from the next room, as though someone’s tuning the TV.
Picking up your water, you stand and walk through the doorway. Namjoon hovers in the next room, fiddling with the remote to switch his TV from video call mode.
“I should’ve made a guide,” he mutters as you join him. “And then absorbed the knowledge in the guide. Whenever I make my own shortcuts, I always forget them.”
“Mood.” You come to a stop. “That’s me with passwords. Although I have no superpower which helps me remember.”
Giving a small laugh, Namjoon finally wrangles his TV to the news. Immediately, your smile freezes as you recognize your photo.
Up until now, there’s been zero word from the ISA on your escape. You couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad thing, since it provided you with anonymity, but it was also difficult to find out what they knew. Now, it seems ISA has made their move.
“Shit,” Jungkook mutters and you jump, not having realized he left the kitchen.
Taehyung has left as well, still holding his orange and followed by Katie. Plopping onto the sofa, he kicks up his feet and stuffs fruit in his mouth.
“Damn.” Taehyung chews. “They could’ve picked a better photo of you, I’ll admit.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook mutters.
“Not you, man. You look great in that picture – kind of like a rogue James Bond. Y/N is the one they did dirty.”
Rolling your eyes, you’re inclined to agree. The headline flashing below you reads: Former Superhero Turns on the City She Once Fought to Protect. ISA purposefully chose a photo which makes you look sketchy, a grainy shot from the day you fought Waterloo. Drenched from head to toe in sewer water, you look like a drowned rat.
Grimacing, you turn away. “Does this mean there’s a warrant out for my arrest?” you ask Namjoon.
Namjoon is already scrolling through his phone. If the ISA has issued a formal warrant, all registered superheroes will have access to the report.
“Probably,” he says. “I don’t see which superhero is assigned to you, but I’m sure someone is. If the ISA is willing to put this on the news, they’re not going to try to keep your capture quiet.”
Still staring at the TV, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “There’s no mention of Katie,” he notes. “Seems like they want that to stay under wraps.”
“Of course,” Taehyung says. “No way they’d want the public to know their little pet project went awry. No offence,” he adds, glancing at Katie.
“None taken,” she says.
Over and over, a bland reporter delivers the same warning. Both you and Jungkook are considered dangerous and highly armed. If anyone sees you, they’re to call the ISA hotline, but are not to engage directly.
“A reward of ten thousand dollars has been offered,” the reporter continues. “Please call the number at the bottom of the screen if you have any new information. Standing by is known superhero, Nighthawk, to comment on the unfolding events. Jenny?” he says, and the camera cuts to a park.
The exhale Jungkook makes sounds a lot like a hiss.
Nighthawk is Seokjin’s archnemesis; a powerful super with both flight and darkness manipulation, He’s been out for Seokjin’s title as Most Popular Superhero since graduating the Academy.
Standing before the mayoral building, Nighthawk wears an impressive supersuit of purple and black. A mask obscures most his face, leaving only his strong lower jaw and piercing blue eyes.
Liam Turner is Nighthawk’s real name, and he was in the class below yours at the Academy. He didn’t gain much attention until after graduation. Back then, Seokjin had just defeated the supervillain, Prima Mala, and was all the news outlets could talk about.
Over the past year though, Seokjin has taken more of a backseat on the crime-fighting scene, leaving room for Nighthawk to swoop in.
Lifting his chin, Liam speaks.
“There’s no need to panic,” he says calmly. “Minutia will be caught and brought to justice. It’s a tragedy whenever one of our own turns to evil, of course, but we will get through this. Already, supers gather to bring her to justice. If you do see her, be careful,” he warns. “Minutia is a highly trained super with a rating of seven on the SS scale. Civilians should not engage.”
SS scale – the Super Standard scale.
Ratings of 1-5 mean a super has one or two non-combative powers. Ratings of 6-7 mean one combative power and ratings of 8-10 mean multiple combative powers. You’re rated a seven with one, extraordinarily strong superpower. Namjoon is rated an eight because although he has two powers (knowledge absorption and teleportation), the latter isn’t very strong.
Footage of you follows, showing some of your best moments throughout super history. A villain taking out a city block, only to be frozen by you and knocked unconscious. The next shot has you removing a string of villains like clockwork, freezing each for a few seconds before taking them out.
The best footage is saved for last. An aerial shot of your fight with the villain, Red Plague. Red Plague had powers of invisibility and teleportation, which made them difficult to fight. Your freeze power lessens when you can’t see your target. In the end, you kick up a cloud of dust, exposing them long enough to use molecular combustion.
Molecular combustion is the most lethal use of your power. Simply put, you speed up particles to the point they explode. Although the power is useful, it drains you of energy, so you typically leave it as a last resort.
Watching the explosion onscreen, Taehyung whistles again.
“That’s so cool,” he breathes. “Y/N – you should show Katie how to do that sometime.”
“I don’t think Katie needs that,” you laugh. “She’s rated what – like, an eleven on the SS scale? Katie could kick my ass anytime.”
Embarrassed, Katie curls further into the couch. She’s smiling though, watching the footage play out on the TV. Truly, you have no idea what Katie’s rated, since the ISA never submitted formal documents.
One of the unspoken reasons the ISA exist is to catalogue your kind. While superheroes shield humans from evil, your very existence is a reminder such evil exists. Part of the ISA’s purpose is to assure the public that you and your kind are under control.
Watching your footage played back on the screen, you can’t really blame the public for their fear. Not to sound like a Marvel cliché, but with tremendous power does come tremendous responsibility. It’s part of why you dislike supers like Nighthawk and Hypnosis, who enjoy the notoriety of their positions a little too much.
Onscreen, the news cycle switches to last night’s baseball game, so Namjoon turns down the volume.
“Well.” Jungkook pauses. “I guess they haven’t forgotten about us.”
Namjoon pushes a hand through his hair. “Sorry, guys. I got a text from a blocked number I think was Yoongi, telling me to turn on the news.”
“Seems like his style,” says Jungkook. “ISA must’ve bought their excuses, then. Otherwise Seokjin would’ve also been included in the report.”
“That’s true,” Namjoon says, sounding thoughtful.
“So, what now?” you ask, turning away. “Sit around and wait for Nighthawk to appear on the horizon?”
Namjoon lifts a brow. “While I’d love to see him fly into my plasma shield, I don’t think it’ll come to that. The fact that ISA is desperate enough to announce this on the news means they have no idea where you are.”
Although Namjoon makes a good point, you can’t help but feel frustrated. Yoongi can text Namjoon, but can’t spare the phone for a quick message from Seokjin? Besides, you’re a superhero. Trained to fight evil from the front lines, not cower in a bunker and let others fight for you.
Jungkook must empathize with your thinking because he frowns at the screen.
“We’re going to do something, though, aren’t we?” he demands, looking around. “What about going after Roa? We promised Katie we’d find him.”
“That’s true.” Namjoon slowly nods. “Now that we’re sure ISA doesn’t know where you are, we should look into leads on Roa.”
“We’re still assigned him as a villain,” Taehyung says. “Namjoon can get close to Roa, and then explain that we offer protection.”
“That’ll be tricky,” Katie says, piping in. “When I first escaped, I didn’t trust anyone who worked for ISA.”
“We could have Katie go with,” you offer. “That way, Roa will think twice before attacking and we’ll have a chance to explain.”
Again, Namjoon nods. “That’s a good idea. Do you think it’ll work?”
Katie considers. “I think it’s our best shot. Honestly, I don’t know what he’s been doing outside the Agency. He’s had to survive on his own for a while now.”
“He’s powerful, too,” adds Jungkook. “We’ll need to be careful.”
Not having anything more to say, Taehyung stands and shoves the rest of his orange inside his mouth. Chewing obnoxiously, he stretches both arms overhead.
“Why don’t I head into headquarters?” he asks, still chewing. “I can pick up some stuff from the office, try to snoop around, feel out the other handlers.”
Although Katie stiffens at the mention of other handlers, she nods. Namjoon agrees as well, and the two of them disappear to talk logistics. Once they’re gone, Jungkook glances your way.
“Back to training?” he says, arching a brow.
You know he’s not asking because he wants to, but as a distraction. It’s one thing to feel helpless, but it’s another to sit around feeling helpless and doing nothing. Training at least gives you a purpose. Katie doesn’t have much experience fighting using superpowers; helping her with them will benefit you all when you do face combat.
“Katie?” you ask, turning. “You in?”
Katie nods, standing from the couch with a determined expression. Before you leave, you glance again at the TV and see they’re playing the loop once more. Your face, angry and blurry, flashes across the screen.
This disappears, replaced by a photo of Seokjin. The caption reads: Minutia’s Ex-Boyfriend, WWH, Unavailable for Comment. Stomach sinking, you stare at his handsome face and wonder where Seokjin is, what he’s doing and if he’s thinking of you.
Because you’re thinking of him; you always are. Forcing yourself to turn away, you remind yourself you’ll see him again and exit the room. Retreating outside, you join Katie in the ring as Jungkook yells out corrections.
You will see Seokjin again, you tell yourself and begin.
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Taehyung’s visit to ISA headquarters goes smoothly, but he doesn’t learn which super is assigned to your case. Not wanting to seem suspicious, he only asked a few people, and found out nothing you didn’t already know.
The good thing about Taehyung leaving though, is he managed to pick up a burner phone on the way home. Purchased at a gas station along the Interstate, Taehyung sets this up as soon as he returns.
The number Yoongi texted from is, indeed, blocked but it doesn’t take long before Yoongi finds you. The very next evening you’re seated around the kitchen table when Taehyung’s burner phone rings.
It takes him a moment to answer, staring at the phone in surprise because no one has the number.
“Credit cards,” Jungkook says, realizing it first. “Classic Yoongi. He’s been tracking you, Taehyung.”
Scowling at the thought, Taehyung presses answer. “Hello?” he asks, putting the phone on speaker.
Yoongi’s voice crackles to life.
“Took you long enough,” he complains. “I’ve been tracking your credit cards for the past week, waiting for you to buy a burner phone. And yet – nothing but charges to Animal Crossing and more comic books.”
Taehyung shrugs, entirely nonplussed. “What can I say? Got to landscape my island.”
“I’m going to ignore that,” Yoongi says, “seeing as we don’t have much time. Are Y/N and Jungkook in the room?”
“Present,” you respond.
“Here,” Jungkook says.
“And Katie?”
“Also, here,” she chimes in.
“Namjoon’s here, too,” Namjoon says. “What’s the update, Yoongi?”
“Oh, damn. The whole gang’s back together. Well, kind of. We were never really together in the first place, so it’s hard to say we –”
“Yoongi,” you interrupt, growing impatient. “We don’t have much time, remember?”
“Right, right. So, here’s the deal – we think ISA believes us, but it’s been a close call.”
“What do you mean you think?” you ask, trying to hide your worry. “Is Seokjin okay?”
“He’s fine. He’s at headquarters right now, which is why I’m the one calling.”
“Back up,” Jungkook says, ignoring the scathing look you throw him. “Start from the beginning. What happened after we left your apartment?”
“Right, yeah. I called ISA for back-up. Seokjin framed the alley to make it look like Katie rescued you, and that you both attacked Seokjin before taking off.”
Taehyung looks impressed. “That was smart.”
“Of course, it was,” Yoongi states. “I was the one who thought of it.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Seokjin for too long,” you say in response, although you can’t help but smile. “What’s the plan now? Has Seokjin been assigned a new villain?”
“That’s the problem.” Yoongi’s voice drops. “We tried to get him assigned to your case, but the Agency isn’t taking any chances. Someone else has been assigned you, but we don’t know who.”
“Huh.” Jungkook frowns. “It could be anyone.”
“We can probably rule out a few people,” Namjoon says thoughtfully. “They haven’t given me the case, which means they’re likely avoiding anyone you were friends with.”
“Which also rules out Hoseok,” Yoongi points out.
“And probably Zephyr,” adds Taehyung, making Jungkook’s cheeks redden.
Noticing this, you glance at him with interest. Zephyr is another superhero at ISA, one with strong power of air manipulation. You wouldn’t say you two are friends, but you’re friendly, so you wonder what Jungkook has to be embarrassed about.
“Yeah, probably none of them,” Yoongi concedes. “We’ve been working on gathering more intel, so hopefully things move faster now that you’ve officially been declared the enemy.”
“Great,” you say glumly.
Namjoon shoots you a rueful smile. “Will you reach out to us on this phone, Yoongi?”
“Yeah.” Yoongi pauses, the sound on his end muffling. “Sorry about that,” he says when he returns. “Thought I heard something upstairs.”
You and Jungkook exchange a look. “Maybe you shouldn’t call us from the apartment,” he suggests. “The Agency could have bugged Seokjin’s place.”
“Please.” Yoongi snorts. “I personally sweep every piece of equipment Seokjin brings home from ISA. Still.” He hesitates. “Let’s keep this short. Got any updates for me?”
“Namjoon is still assigned Roa,” Taehyung says. “We’re going to try and reach him before the Agency can take him in.”
“Okay, good. Seokjin thinks there may be other escapees, but that’s unconfirmed. We’ll contact you as soon as we know more.”
Namjoon nods, seeming to accept this. Unfortunately, you’re not as patient, and find yourself unable to hold your tongue.
“And what about Jungkook and I?” you demand, leaning in. “Are we just supposed to sit back and wait while everyone else plays the hero?”
At this, Jungkook gives you another look – one you give him right back. It’s been a whole week and somehow, you feel less prepared than when this all began. The most maddening part is simply sitting here while Seokjin is in danger, risking his life to protect yours.
It makes you feel helpless; a sensation you never thought you’d feel again, after entering the Agency.
“Y/N.” Yoongi’s voice softens – a rarity. “I know this is difficult. I’m also frustrated. Seokjin and I have been trying to make contact, but it’s hard. The ISA took your breach seriously and have increased all security. This is the first time I’ve been… seventy percent sure no one’s listening.”
Hearing this, Namjoon looks stricken.
“Only seventy?”
“Anyways.” Yoongi continues as though he hasn’t spoken. “I should probably go, but I’ll make contact again soon. Namjoon, to be on the safe side – program your defense system to avoid Seokjin and I, okay?”
Stricken, Namjoon nods, and you realized you should’ve mentioned this earlier. Taehyung doesn’t flinch though, plucking his phone from the table.
“No need,” he says. “Did that as soon as we got here.”
“Great, thanks.”
Namjoon settles back in his seat, relieved and you remember Taehyung has been his handler the same amount of time Jungkook has been yours. This can’t be the first time he’s dealt with Namjoon’s quirks.
“Alright.” Yoongi sounds muffled again. “I’ll talk to you all later. Stay safe. And Y/N?”
Perking up, you lean forward. “Yeah?”
He exhales, sounding as though he’s in great pain. “Seokjin asked me to say all sorts of gross things to you, but I’m just going to say he misses you. Bad. Alright?”
Your smile widens. “Yeah, alright. Tell Seokjin I can’t wait to suck his dick.”
“Boooo.” Jungkook gives a thumbs-down.
“Y/N!’ Taehyung’s mouth drops. “There are children present.”
“Uh.” Katie looks at him strangely. “You all know Roa is my boyfriend, right?”
“We did not know that, no,” Namjoon says cheerfully. “Thank you for confirming.”
“Still,” Taehyung insists, pushing on. “I don’t want to hear about what you and Seokjin do in the bedroom, Y/N.”
“Hanging up now!” says Yoongi, and the line goes dead.
Sitting back, you feel a pained tightening of your chest. As good as it was to hear from Yoongi, you can’t help but wish Seokjin had called instead.
Sliding the phone back in his pocket, Taehyung resumes eating dinner. Lately, your group has gotten in the habit of rotating cooks. Tonight’s pasta by Jungkook was surprisingly edible. By far, Namjoon’s concoctions have been the worst, which you found surprising given his superpower. Apparently, absorbing the knowledge doesn’t ensure flawless execution.
People begin leaving once dinner is over, with Namjoon muttering something about checking his missiles while Taehyung cleans dishes. Jungkook is the next to go, disappearing upstairs and leaving you alone with Katie.
Seated at the table, Katie remains immersed in a binder Namjoon prepared about different superpowers. You watch her flip the page, silent and contemplative. Since she joined your crew, Katie has become more open, but she’s still the quietest among you – not that you blame her.
You all are strangers and some of you still work for the very Agency which stripped her of her freedom. As though sensing your thoughts, Katie looks up.
“Want to go on a walk?” you ask, sensing you both could use a distraction.
After a moment, she nods, pushing her chair back to stand. The night air is cool, stepping onto the porch which wraps around the house. Above, your bedroom opens onto its own private balcony, but that isn’t visible from outside the kitchen.
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Lightning bugs skitter across the lawn before disappearing into the dark line of trees at the edge of the forest. Coming to a stop, you rest both forearms against the porch railing.
Behind you, the door falls shut as Katie exits. She joins you at the rail and for a while you’re quiet, simply existing beside her. Lake house is a bit of a misnomer for Namjoon’s retreat. While there is a lake about a mile away, it’s not close enough to be seen from the property. Fewer neighbors that way, he explained at the start.
Finally, Katie exhales.
“Roa was the one who figured things out first,” she says, quiet. Staring straight ahead, Katie watches the darkened woods. “He was the one who pieced things together.”
“Oh?” you ask, keeping your voice level. “What happened?”
It takes her a moment to answer, so you let her think. Katie is young to have been dealt such a hard hand. Dimly, you recall the file you scanned inside ISA headquarters. She’s an orphan, no family to speak of besides an estranged aunt she left when she turned seventeen.
“When I first entered the program… I thought that would fix things.” Katie shakes her head. “ISA was purposeful in their recruitment, I think. The went after people who’d been abandoned. People with no one around to defend them. To warn them.”
A chill goes down your spine, but you force yourself to stay quiet. If Katie has more to say, you want to give her the opportunity to speak freely.
Resigned, she exhales. “Growing up, the supers always seemed so amazing. Beloved by all. Strong enough to fight back. To defend others – that’s what I wanted,” Katie admits. “I gave up everything to join the program, but the trade-off seemed worth it. I had nothing left for me, anyways.”
“When did you first realize something was wrong?”
“Not at first. They were kind to us in the beginning,” she explains. “We had regular meals, our own bedrooms and all the entertainment we could ask for. The ‘treatment’ was given to us twice a day, and it wasn’t too bad. Another kid said it was like a blood transfusion he had to get once. I wouldn’t know.
Katie lowers her gaze, lost in thought. “Roa was the first to display any powers. Super-strength. Not everyone in our program was a good person, and one night a few of them ganged up on Roa. He fought back, and…” Closing her eyes, she swallows. “He didn’t know what he was doing. He couldn’t control himself. One of them died, I think. A guy named Adam was taken away, but never came back.”
Overwhelmed by this information, you find yourself unsure what to say.
“That’s terrible,” you say at last. “I’m sorry.”
She swallows hard. “We thought ISA would be angry with Roa. Thought they’d kick him out, but instead they were… happy. Ecstatic, even. After that… things got worse.”
“How so?”
“They made Roa the example.” Her face tightens. “From then on, they started ‘testing’ us to display our powers. We’d always had numbers but that was when they stopped referring to us by name. Every day, the tests got worse and worse until they were basically torture. I discovered my superspeed when they were waterboarding Roa.”
The image is enough to make your stomach churn.
Sadly, the story of discovering one’s superpowers is often one of tragedy. Some people are lucky enough to know from birth but others, like yourself, find them under times of duress. You discovered chronokinesis at summer camp when a counselor tried to force himself upon you. Seokjin realized he had super-strength during a carjacking gone wrong where his mother died.
What Katie describes, though – forcing traumatic events upon children in the hopes they might find their power, is simply unfathomable.
“How did Roa manage to escape?” you wonder.
Faintly, Katie smiles. “Our immunity to titanium wasn’t obvious at first. The compound wasn’t built of titanium – ISA wanted to test our powers freely – but the walls surrounding it were. We all just… assumed we had the same aversion to the metal as you did.” She shrugs. “We didn’t try to escape.”
“Until Roa.”
“Yeah. Until Roa.” Katie’s smile fades. “He did something one day that pissed off the Agency. I can’t remember what. To punish him, they threw him in this titanium cell and – nothing. Nothing happened. Luckily, Roa had the presence of mind to pretend the metal hurt him.”
“Damn.” You find yourself impressed. “That was some quick thinking.”
Finally, Katie turns sideways. “He broke out a week later. Roa tried to get me to leave then, but I was too scared. I thought ISA would hunt us down and kill us. No one outside even knew we existed, after all. I was… afraid, I guess. A coward.”
“No,” you say, more sternly than you mean to. “You weren’t. You were in a terrible situation, and you wanted to survive. That’s not a bad thing.”
“Maybe.” Katie pauses. “But then Annie died, and I realized Roa was right. ISA would kill us if we stayed, or they’d kill us when we left. There was no safe choice.”
“Who was Annie?”
“Another girl in our program – we thought she might have been an empath, since she always brightened the mood after testing. ISA killed her trying to coax out her powers. They called it an accident,” Katie says, her face hardening. “I decided to escape the next day. It took me a while since ISA started drugging us after Roa left. But then I made it out, and… well, here we are.”
Silence falls over you both.
When you and Jungkook first discovered Operation Made, your main concern was about ethics. It wasn’t ethical to create new supers, to release power into a world that couldn’t be controlled. What ISA is doing though, is so much worse than that.
What Katie describes are actions reserved for supervillains. ISA didn’t just compromise their morality by creating new supers. They violated the central tenant of what heroes stand for: protect those who can’t protect themselves. People died in their program, and yet ISA kept going.
“We’ll stop them,” you hear yourself say out loud. Your fingers curl around the railing. “We’ll find Roa, and we’ll stop the program. I promise you that.”
“I’d like to believe you.” Katie pauses. “But let’s be honest – the ISA is well, the ISA. They have hundreds of supers and have already shown they’re not above lying. Who would believe us?”
“People will,” you say, although you struggle to believe it yourself. “We have Seokjin and Yoongi working from the inside. They’ll find proof of the program so it’s not just your word against theirs when the time comes.”
“And let’s say they do that.” Katie faces you head-on. “Let’s say they do find proof and we’re able to expose the program. Some supers already know and don’t seem to care. Do you really think the rest of them will?”
Kati’s not wrong. There are some supers, like Hypnosis and Nighthawk, who already know about Operation Made and continue to act. While not every super is like them, you can’t say for sure whether the rest would turn against ISA.
ISA has been the voice of reason against evil for so long. That’s something not easily undone.
“I… don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t blame you for not trusting us. Hell, I’m having a hard time believing in us myself. Not every super at the Agency is like Hypnosis or Nighthawk, though. I’m proof of that. So are Namjoon and Seokjin.”
“I guess.”
“And Taehyung, and Jungkook and everyone else trying to help,” you continue, not finished. “Even if we’re the only ones fighting – which I don’t think we will be – we will fight, because it’s the right thing to do. Because that’s what supers are supposed to do.”
Katie stares at you another moment, then loosens a breath. “I really want to believe that,” she says quietly.
“Then, believe it.”
Her lips twitch. “I’ll try.”
Sensing this might be the most you can hope for, you nod and face forward. Silence falls between you again but this time, it’s closer to companionship than something unsaid. Eventually, Katie pulls back and glances inside the house.
“It’s late,” she observes. “I should probably get to sleep.”
You nod, watching her go with a small wave. At the very least, she seems less burdened than before, so you suppose the talk was a success. You, however, feel worse off than when you started. You feel worse about sitting here, doing nothing while Katie’s been through so much.
Exhaling softly, you hang your head. Impatience is one of your least desirable qualities. Seokjin never seems to mind, but that’s because he’s got patience to spare. Unable to stop yourself, you glance at the moon and wonder where he is, what he’s doing, if he’s thinking of you.
You hope he isn’t taking stupid risks but then, that’s more your style, not his. Seokjin is the patient one, the satisfied one and you’re the one with something to prove.
It’s always been like this, ever since the Academy. Even in the superhero world, being a woman is hard. If you don’t stay to help the wounded, you’re labeled as cold. If you accidentally bust a hole in a wall, you’re suddenly careless. All men need to do is smile for a photo op, and they’re considered approachable.
In a strange way, you’ve always empathized with Hypnosis. Supers like her, who play the game well, sell far more action figures than you do at Christmas. You can’t hate her for trying to get ahead – you can hate her for being a shitty person, but not for profiting off the sexism you’ve been handed.
Eyes closed, you take a deep breath. The news saying declaring you a villain was more difficult than you thought it would be. Logically, you know who you are. You’re not a bad person, but ISA is powerful, and they’re the ones with the mic. As much as the world loves superheroes, they enjoy watching a hero fall just as much.
You wish Seokjin were here.
If he were, he’d crack some stupid joke about to take your mind off things. His presence stabilizes you, contrasting your storms with even wind and clear skies. While you were broken up, it felt like a piece of yourself was missing. Fate was cruel to take him away as soon as you got him back.
Releasing a breath, your eyes open. Thinking about Seokjin won’t change the fact he isn’t here. Staring at the horizon, you imagine if you squint hard enough, you can see the city. You can’t, but it’s nice to pretend.
After a while, you turn from the railing and head inside. It’s chillier in the mountains, and you’re not dressed right for stargazing.
Shutting the door, you hear Jungkook arguing with Taehyung in the next room. It seems Taehyung is a big fan of the Bachelor, and Jungkook is begging to watch anything else. While you listen, Katie laughs, and you glance at them in surprise. Every night prior, Katie has simply gone to bed but now, she’s seated herself amongst the handlers.
It’s a small change, but still. Mood somewhat lighter, you turn to head upstairs.
Maybe other impossible things can happen, too.
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Another two days at the lake house, and you feel as though you’re slowly losing your mind. You can tell Jungkook feels the same, despite the outward image of calm he portrays.
Jungkook wasn’t built to sit still any more than you were. There’s a reason he’s mastered so many forms of martial arts and weaponry. A literal wild child, his mom enrolled him in every sport she could think of, but none of them stuck. Until Taekwondo.
After becoming the youngest black belt in the country, Jungkook sought out other disciplines. He entered college intending to join the army but was approached by ISA agents his junior year. Swayed by the promise of protecting humanity, Jungkook joined ISA as a handler. The two of you were paired during your time at the Academy, and honestly, if ISA did one good thing, it was bringing you two together. Somewhere along the line, Jungkook became your closest friend.
Which is how you know he’s also going crazy. Standing at the stove – it’s your night in the rotation to cook – you watch Jungkook’s knee jiggle staring out at the rain. It must be near sunset, although it’s hard to tell through the gloom outside. Streaks of water slide down the window, obscuring the view of the horizon beyond.
Alright, fine – the hour is well past sunset. You were late putting the roast vegetables in the oven. Blame Namjoon, and the awesome obstacle course he built for supers in his basement.
“I’m sorry!” You apologize to Jungkook again. “I promise I’ll start dinner earlier next time.”
Groaning out loud, he lowers his head to the table. “Don’t say next time, Y/N. That would imply we’ll be here five days from now.”
“Hey!” Taehyung glances up, offended. “I’ve worked hard to turn this place into a home for you all.”
“And we’re eternally grateful,” Jungkook mumbles into the wood. “But even you have to admit this is frustrating. Roa has gone completely off the grid, and whatever Seokjin and Yoongi are doing doesn’t seem to be working.”
“I’m sure they’re close,” Namjoon says from the couch. Without looking up, he turns the page in his book. “Yoongi sounded hopeful over the phone.”
“Yoongi? Hopeful?” Jungkook lifts his head. “Someday you’re going to have to lend me your translator, Namjoon.”
Namjoon’s lips quirk upwards in a grin.
“Seriously.” Jungkook glances around. “At what point do we admit things aren’t moving fast enough hand try something different?”
“Different?” you ask cautiously. “Like what?”
Lifting a shoulder, Jungkook lets it fall. “I don’t know. Namjoon could absorb some hacking books and try to breach ISA’s security system. Or Y/N could follow the Head Agent home and freeze him long enough to steal his laptop. Or maybe –”
“Or maybe,” a new voice says from the doorway, “you could let Seokjin inside before you vote on a different plan.”
Head jerking sideways, you nearly spill the sauce you’ve been stirring. The kitchen, which previously held only five inhabitants, now holds one more.
Wet hair plastered to his forehead, Seokjin stands in Namjoon’s side door.
The entire kitchen sits, stunned, and then erupts into motion. Namjoon shuts his book, Taehyung pushes his chair back to stand – and you freeze them all, except Seokjin.
He frowns, realizing he’s the only one still moving and turns to face you.
The moment your eyes meet, you break, spoon clattering to the counter as you launch yourself forward. It takes barely three steps to cross the kitchen, but it’s three steps too many before you throw yourself in his arms.
Anyone but Seokjin would stumble backwards, but his super-strength keeps him solid. Catching you easily, he crushes you to him. Arms sliding around his waist, you bury your face in his chest and deeply inhale. Surrounded by the scent of pine and citrus, you can finally breathe for the first time in weeks.
Squeezing him tighter, you pull back to look up. Seokjin stares down at you, his eyes shining in darkness.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
“Hey, yourself,” you whisper, unable to stop smiling.
Seokjin doesn’t release you; simply holds you to him.
Now that you’ve recovered from your initial shock, you find yourself able to appreciate other things. Like Seokjin’s damp suit, clinging to his muscles in a way that’s borderline obscene. Or his hair, wet with rain as droplets slide down his throat.
Your gaze follows one, halting when it disappears inside his collar. Forcing yourself to look up, you swallow – hard – when you notice Seokjin’s gaze darken. His right hand, splayed across your lower back, pulls you closer in a deliberate manner.
Lifting a finger, Seokjin brushes your cheek before roughly, he cups the back of your neck with one hand. Titling your face upwards, he lowers his, and –
“You know we can see you, don’t you?”
Jerking away, you realize you released the flow of time in the kitchen. For the past several seconds, you’ve had a captive audience. Cheeks instantly heating, you take a step backwards.
Somewhat disappointed, Seokjin does the same. You both know if you kiss, you won’t be able to stop and right now, there are important things at hand. Things to discuss which are more time sensitive than your sex life – however barely.
Noticing your expression, Taehyung laughs and crosses the kitchen. “Hey, man.” He claps Seokjin on the shoulder. “Good to see you, whole and alive, and all.”
“Thanks.” Seokjin grins. “Glad to be here, whole and alive, and all.”
Placing his book fully aside, Namjoon stands from the couch. “Rough weather for flying,” he comments, striding forward.
Stomach sinking, you follow his gaze to the downpour outside. That should’ve been your first thought, instead of trying to tear Seokjin’s clothes off. As though understanding your thinking, Seokjin sends you a smirk which contradicts your conclusion.
“Not great weather,” he admits, shaking out his hair. Rain splatters everywhere, making Taehyung wince. “But I purposefully chose this to fly. I’ve been patrolling in different directions each night just in case ISA was watching. Figured the rain would give me extra cover.”
“Good plan,” Namjoon says with a nod.
“This, from Brainblast himself!”
Visibly, Namjoon winces. “I’ll never forgive Y/N for talking me into that alias,” he mutters.
“Why?” you demand, trying to hide your smile. “Brainblast is a great superhero name!”
“It kind of sounds like an aneurism,” Jungkook says, propping his socked feet on a chair. “Hey, Seokjin.” Gamely, he waves. “You came at just the right time. Some people – I won’t name names – were about to mutiny.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “I heard everything you said, Jungkook,” he says, walking further inside. “And you were right.”
“Oh.” Jungkook pauses. “Good, then. Which part?”
“Things have been taking a long time,” Seokjin acknowledges, coming to a stop beside you at the table. “Hey, Katie,” he says, glancing her way. “It’s good to see you again.”
Katie smiles. “You, too.”
He nods. “So, we found out some things from the Agency–”
“Should we be doing this in here?” Jungkook glances at the door. “Maybe we should go someplace without windows, or something.”
Namjoon shrugs. “No one’s getting in here without my knowledge. Don’t worry.”
“Seokjin literally just did.”
“Because I programmed the alarm system to let him pass,” Taehyung counters. “Anyone who’s not Seokjin would have a hard time getting in.”
“Aside from Yoongi,” Namjoon adds.
“Can we get back on subject?” You glance between them. “Seokjin, what did you find out?”
Shooting you a grateful look, Seokjin continues. “After Y/N and Katie left, Yoongi notified ISA and they called us into headquarters. We said you attacked me and escaped with Katie – which is when they decided to tell me about Operation Made.”
Namjoon whistles. “They just told you – like that?”
Seokjin nods, looking grim.
“I pretended to be shocked. Told them I needed to think about things, and I left. A few days later I went back and pretended they’d won me over. Said the need for more supers outweighed whatever we had to do to get them.”
Taehyung nods. “Smart. If you’d accepted the program too quickly, ISA would’ve known something was up. You’re way too moral of a super – no offense.”
“Uh, none taken?”
Katie looks at him critically. “And they just… believed you?”
“We think so.” Seokjin hesitates. “They haven’t arrested me, but they also haven’t told me anything else. Yoongi’s been gathering intel through his own methods.”
“Methods I assume are less than legal?” asks Jungkook.
“You assume correct.” Seokjin nods. “Those methods proved far more fruitful, and we’ve figured out what ISA is doing. You all might want to sit down,” he warns, settling himself at the table. Once everyone follows, he says, “Alright, here goes. The goal of Operation Made is to create more superheroes, but there’s an obvious risk attached to granting any human powers. Who’s to say they won’t become a villain, right?”
“They’ll try to minimize any risk, of course,” says Namjoon thoughtfully. “Personality tests, mental health screenings, profile selection, and the like.”
“True,” Seokjin says. “But still, there’s always the possibility. The ISA thought they could control any variants from the program with titanium. That’s what they call you,” he says to Katie. “Variants are made supers who rebel against the Agency.”
Katie arches a brow. “Figures.”
“When they realized titanium won’t work, they began exploring other options.” Here, Seokjin pauses. “I’ll be honest – it’s not good.”
“How not good?” Namjoon asks tentatively.
“They’re making a drug. A serum capable of controlling other humans.”
The room falls so quiet, the cliché drop of a pin could be heard. Taehyung manages to regain himself first.
“They… what?”
“ISA is making a drug to control other humans,” repeats Seokjin. “I know. Sounds like something a supervillain would do, right?”
“Not just sounds like,” Namjoon says, finding his voice. “Villains have tried that before. Maxwell Lord. Purple Machine. I digested the entire supervillain database at the Academy,” he explains. “But this is… it’s like ISA is using those villain failures as a blueprint.”
“They’re not just trying,” says Seokjin. “They’ve almost finished. That’s why they’re not spending more time trying to get Katie back. Once the made supers are controlled, ISA can simply send them to retrieve you.”
Katie’s eyes are wide. “So… how does the drug work? Does ISA inject it into someone’s veins and they just… do what you say?”
“I’d imagine it’s nanotech,” Namjoon muses, mostly to himself. “Likely an inhalant. That’d be the easiest means of forced consumption – right?”
Looking surprised, Seokjin nods.
“What does that mean?” you ask, glancing between them. “For those of us who can’t absorb knowledge and haven’t read Yoongi’s cliff notes.”
“An air-transmitted drug,” Namjoon explains. “They’ll lace the building’s oxygen supply, allowing the drug to enter the made supers’ blood stream. If the goal is mental control, the nanotech will target the brain’s decision-making process,” he says. “Likely some sort of interception between the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus. ISA nanotech will hijack the closed-loop neural circuits to generate their preferred decision.”
A kitchen full of two humans and three supers stare back at him.
“In English, please,” Jungkook says at last.
In a very un-superhero-like gesture, Namjoon barely refrains from rolling his eyes. “Okay, so you make decisions with your brain, right?”
“Debatable,” Jungkook mutters. You kick him under the table. “Ow!”
“Yes, Namjoon,” you say sweetly.
Scowling, Jungkook rubs at his ankle.
“Well, your prefrontal cortex takes in information, then sends it to the hippocampus to generate a decision. Your hippocampus reviews it with context, looks around at your memories and other knowledge and decides what to do. It then sends instructions back to your PFC.”
“Which is what the nanotech overrides,” Taehyung finishes. “ISA gives the full-frontal-whatever a different set of instructions.”
“Prefrontal cortex,” Namjoon corrects with barely concealed exasperation. “But – yes, essentially.”
Silence falls while you each contemplate this horror.
“That’s terrible,” Katie says, sounding appalled. “You’d think you were making your own decisions, only to have your body respond differently.”
Solemnly, Namjoon nods.
“Namjoon’s right,” Seokjin says. “That’s almost word for word the description Yoongi gave me. The ISA is making a drug to control superheroes. That’s the next step in their process.”
“Hold up,” you say, suspicion dawning. “Superheroes? As in – all superheroes? Not just the ones in Operation Made?”
Glumly, Seokjin nods. “That’s the end goal, we think. They’re using Operation Made as a test, but eventually plan on controlling all supers.”
“Why stop there?” Jungkook adds, speaking quietly. “Why not expand to include handlers? Villains? The world?”
The weight of his words hangs over you, too terrible to contemplate.
“Alright.” Taehyung pushes his chair back to stand. “That’s enough gloom and doom for one night, I think. Seokjin – anything else we should know?”
Seokjin shakes his head no.
“The drug isn’t ready to use, but it’s close,” he says. “Yoongi’s trying to figure out where it’s held so we can break in and destroy it. I’m trying to find other escapees from the program, but ISA is keeping them quiet.”
Namjoon nods as he stands, stretching both arms overhead.
Katie’s eyes widen before she looks away from the tan strip of skin he exposes. It’s a struggle for you not to laugh, since Namjoon tends to have that effect on most people. For all his insistence his power isn’t sexy, he greatly underestimates his lure of being the smartest person in the room.
Noticing where you’re looking, Seokjin arches a brow. He remains seated though, unthreatened by threats of a stretching Namjoon. After everything you two have been through, jealousy has no room at your table.
“Anyways.” Seokjin shakes his head. “We can talk more in the morning. Yoongi gave me burner phones for everyone. I’ll need to fly back before the rain stops, but that shouldn’t be until tomorrow. Do you mind if I crash, Namjoon? I’m exhausted.”
Namjoon waves a hand. “Of course. Take whatever room you want.”
Seokjin nods, as though he’s planning on staying anywhere but with you tonight. In fact, you’re busy coming up with the best way to sneak off unnoticed, when Jungkook sniffs to your right.
“Is something… burning?” he asks.
Immediately, your eyes widen.
“The sauce!” you cry, leaping up from the table. Rushing to the stove, you give it a quick stir and are relived to find nothing sticks to the bottom. Meekly, you turn around. “Dinner’s ready?”
Another plate is added for Seokjin, chairs are pulled up and people begin to eat. Small talk centers around Namjoon’s latest project – a solar-powered laser cannon – and Katie’s training progress. Although Operation Made included basic fighting skills, combat with powers takes time to learn.
Luckily, Taehyung and Jungkook are two of the most in-demand handlers at the Agency. After dinner, they disappear with Katie to brainstorm tomorrow’s session. Namjoon leaves with the flash drive Seokjin brought from Yoongi, leaving you and Seokjin alone.
The others probably planned their absence, but you can’t say you mind. Ever since his arrival, you’ve been consumed by thoughts of getting Seokjin alone. He seems to be of the same mind, because the second Namjoon disappears, your boyfriend grabs your hand and drags you outside.
Slipping an arm under your knees, Seokjin ignores your squeal and shoots into the air. At this point, the rain outside has slowed to a drizzle.
“Seokjin!” you gasp, burying your face in his chest. “I love you, but I still hate flying, you ass.”
“Hm,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “I missed hearing you say that.”
“What? Me calling you an ass?”
“No. You saying I love you.”
Feeling him slow, you lift your head from his chest. Seokjin hovers just above the storm, the tips of his feet dragging through the clouds. Although the sun set nearly an hour ago, traces of light linger on the horizon.
Seokjin meets your gaze, the light in his eyes equal to that of any star. Reaching upwards, you brush hair from his face.
“I love you,” you say, heart practically bursting. “I missed you.”
“Same,” he breathes, closing the space between you.
When he kisses you, you nearly combust. Seared from head to toe, your fingers curl in his hair to drag him lower. Forgetting your precarious position above the ground, you focus only on him.
Tongue swiping your lower lip, he seeks entrance. Giving in, your arms wrap around him in a tender embrace. Say what you will about super strength – Seokjin wields his with impressive dexterity. The way he easily switches between gentle and rough has always made you weak in the knees.
Take now, for instance. A lesser man might have been winded from carrying their superhero girlfriend while making out. Seokjin merely holds you tighter, one hand sliding to wrap your leg around his waist.
Pressed against the bulge at the front of his suit, you feel suddenly breathless. Seokjin smirks at your reaction, pulling back long enough to brush a kiss to your temple. Fingers digging into your thighs, he holds you against him.
“Seokjin,” you murmur.
“Unless you want to get naked in mid-air, I suggest taking me down. Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Stifling a shiver, you concentrate on refamiliarizing yourself with Seokjin’s body. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and even longer since you got to enjoy him. The short time you spent together before you were forced apart wasn’t nearly enough.
Fingers trailing his suit, you feel muscles and pecs and abdominals galore. Slightly overwhelmed, you allow your hands to wander further, savoring the sharp intake of breath Seokjin makes.
“Be good,” he chides, reaching to remove your hand from his ass.
Smiling innocently up at him, you allow your fingers to intertwine with his.
Then – Seokjin drops below the clouds, soaking you instantly. Now, you’re the one gasping as his mouth covers yours. Seokjin is suddenly everywhere – his hands in your hair, his body on yours, your heart barely able to keep pace with incessant demand.
“I missed you,” he groans, tearing away long enough to wipe rain from your cheek.
With a thud, Seokjin’s feet hit the boards of the porch outside your room. You’d ask how he knew which one was yours, but you’re too busy trying to peel off his suit. Halting your movement to open the door, Seokjin leads you inside.
The rain is abruptly cut off, although you remain drenched, as does he. Seokjin doesn’t bother to turn on the light, simply shutting the door to leave you in silence.
“You should get out of those clothes,” he murmurs, gaze flicking down. “Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
“That’d be bad,” you agree, undoing a button.
Seokjin helps, shoving your blouse to the floor and leaving you in a bra. Walking the two of you backwards, he presses you to the wall.
“God,” he exhales, his gaze traveling your body. “I’m never leaving again.”
“Liar,” you whisper, and kiss him.
His lips move with yours, one hand coming up to cup a breast. Through the lace of your bra, he tweaks a nipple. Right knee pressing between your thighs, he eases your legs further apart to lean forward.
Groaning at the weight of his body on yours, you reach greedily up his back. Seokjin is all muscle and skin – hurriedly, you reach for his zipper.
“Want to feel you,” you whisper, and Seokjin obliges.
Replacing your hand with his, he tugs the suit downward until it hits the floor. Leaning your head to the wall, you stare up at him in darkness.
“Fuck,” you say.
Seokjin’s lips quirk, amused. “See something you like?”
“Fuck,” you repeat, hand skimming his torso. “What, do you live at the gym now?”
His smile falters. “I… had a lot of free time while we were part. It seemed more productive to channel that energy into healthy things.”
Frown tugging your lips down, you examine his body with this new context. While his muscles are undeniably impressive, you kind of miss the slight pudge he got after too many desserts.
“As sexy as you look,” you say, rising on tiptoe. Gently, you press a kiss beneath his ear. “I have to say, I think there are other ways we could find to be productive.”
“Oh, you do?”
Nodding, you brush your lips against his. Deepening the gesture, Seokjin presses you harder into the wall. Hands on his torso, you slide up his back and into his hair. Damp strands tangle in your fingers, pulling him closer with a needy whine.
Giving in, Seokjin’s forearm hits the wall to cage you closer. Hips rolling with yours, he turns increasingly demanding as you press against him.
“Seokjin,” you groan.
Kissing down your throat, he lingers at the base as his hand grips your thigh. Wrapping your leg around his waist, Seokjin rolls his hips and again, there’s nothing gentle about it. You feel his barely clothed cock grind against your core, reminding you how big he is and how badly you want him.
The memory of him inside you, filling you roughly is enough that you whimper. Seokjin lifts his head to see you. Keeping your leg where it is, he lazily presses forward to nudge at your core.
“Is this what you want?” he murmurs.
Breathless, you nod.
“You sure?” His eyes glint eagerly. “How bad?”
“Let me show you.”
Seokjin’s eyes widen when you drop to your knees, grasping his zipper to lower his suit. Stark naked before you, Seokjin lifts a brow.
“You sure?” he murmurs, reaching to cup your chin.
Turning your head, you slip his index finger between your lips. Sucking him slowly, you swirl your tongue once before releasing with a pop.
“I’m sure,” you say, glancing up. “I want you, Seokjin.”
He nods, already half-hard at the sight of you kneeling. Sitting back on your heels, you spread your legs and for a moment, simply admire the sight of his cock.
Thick and vascular, with the most appealing pink at the tip. Neither of you slept with anyone else while you were apart, so you can’t say for sure, but you’re fairly sure no one has a cock as pretty as his. Practically salivating, you lean in to take him in your mouth. Just the head, barely enough to tease as Seokjin groans.
Releasing him slowly, you gather his length in one hand to casually stroke. Hissing, Seokjin stares at you down his nose.
“Fuck, you look gorgeous,” he exhales. “Could you just –”
Already knowing what he wants, you reach behind you to undo your bra. It falls to the floor, releasing your breasts and Seokjin sighs.
“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, staring at you appreciatively. “I missed those so much. Missed you, too – but damn, Y/N. Your tits.”
Cupping your breast with one hand, you take him again in your mouth. Teasing yourself while getting him off has its desired effect and in return, Seokjin doesn’t seem to know where to look. His gaze darts from your mouth to your chest with comedic timing.
“Oh my god,” he chokes out. “This is heaven. And hell.”
“Good,” you say, pulling back to deep throat him.
Seokjin emits a noise of pure, greedy bliss. His hands rise, automatic, to keep your head in place. He’s so big that even touching the back of your throat, you can’t fit him all. Eyes watering, you use both your hand to keep jerking him off.
Hips moving reflexively, Seokjin begins to take over and fuck your mouth. Lazily, he tips his head back and you watch his throat swallow.
“Yeah,” he breathes, lifting his head to watch. “You look so pretty, baby. So fucking good with your mouth full of cock.”
You don’t respond, nearly gagging on his dick and Seokjin’s eyes darken. He begins moving faster, chasing the bliss of your sweet, messy mouth. Spit trails from your lips, trickling down your chin and his breathing comes faster.
“That’s it,” Seokjin pants. “I’m gonna come, babe – mouth, or tits?”
Knowing what he wants, you gesture again at your chest.
Seokjin nods and pulls out, leaving you empty. Grasping his cock with one hand, he watches you rock backwards and spread your legs further.
Rubbing hard, he stares at your breasts before, breath hitching, cum shoots out and covers your chest. Exhaling roughly, you stare at him from your place on the floor. Slowly, cum drips down your tits to paint them white.
Seokjin looks wrecked. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
You have no time to retort before he sweeps you in his arms, carrying you easily into the bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he grabs a washcloth to wipe you clean.
Bottom half still clothed, you sit on the counter and watch him work. Once Seokjin is done, he seems to notice the inequity.
“These need to go,” he says, flicking the button on your pants.
With a small laugh, you lean your head against the mirror. “We don’t have to do anything more,” you tell him softly. “I’m just happy to have you here.”
Seokjin’s brows lift. “Have to? Trust me, Y/N. When it comes to sex with you, it’s not about what I have to do. It’s about what I want to do. What I need to do,” he adds, voice dropping. “And what I need right now is you – naked, with my face buried between your thighs.”
Abruptly, you clench your thighs tighter. Noticing this, Seokjin smirks.
“Well,” you say, sliding to the edge of the counter. The action brings you closer, your naked chest brushing his. “Who am I to stand between you and what you need?”
Hand sliding up your leg, Seokjin wraps this around his waist. Bending his head, he waits until you tilt your face up to his. He kisses you softly, unassuming until you shift, and he growls.
Fingers digging into your thigh, his hips roll with yours. Kissing you harder, he opens your mouth as his tongue flicks with yours. Consumed by heat and longing, you practically whine when Seokjin pulls away.
“Spread,” he says, and drops to his knees.
Thanking every deity in existence that Namjoon’s bathroom counter is low, you obey. Eyes dark, Seokjin hungrily stares at your glistening sex.
He glances up. “Beautiful,” he repeats, before moving in.
Seokjin starts out slow, even though he doesn’t have to. You’ve been wet since you kissed in mid-air, but tonight it seems Seokjin wants to take his time. Not that you blame him. After this, you don’t know when you’ll see him next. Part of you savors each breath, each second between you.
Soft kisses are spaced down your abdomen, Seokjin lingering at every curve. He passes over your sex, hovering long enough to make you squirm. Then he exhales, breath ghosting warmly over your skin. Stifling a shiver, you shift your hips upwards.
Gripping you tighter, Seokjin holds you down to fully lick your sex. His name on your lips, you close your eyes at the first brush of tongue.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he murmurs appreciatively.
Casually, Seokjin spreads your folds to simply look. You pant, core tightening as you watch his reaction. Jaw clenched, his pupils are dilated so far, they’re practically black. Seokjin’s gaze sweeps up to meet yours, and then he bends forward.
Licking over your clit, he teases until you whimper his name. Immediately, Seokjin stands, cupping your pussy with one hand to pull you towards the edge of the counter. Mouth covering yours, he slips a finger inside.
“Seokjin,” you gasp, as he drags your lower lip between teeth.
Seokjin slides his finger in and out, tearing away from your mouth to start kissing your neck. He teases slowly down your throat, catching your nipple with his supple lips. Gasping out loud, you bow from the counter, and he releases you with a pop.
Circling your other nipple with a finger, Seokjin teases them both to a peak. Your sensitivity leaves you trembling, a fresh wave of arousal coating his fingers as you pull back.
“So hot,” Seokjin groans before his mouth covers yours.
Pulling you closer, he re-angles his hand below. Slipping his middle finger inside, his thumb slowly moves over the hood of your clit.
“Seokjin,” you gasp, burying your head in his shoulder. Hips chasing his hand, you rock yourself forward. “Yes, Seokjin, there.”
His hand on your back keeps you balanced as you move, fucking yourself on his hand below. Needing more than his fingers, you whine into the skin of his throat.
“Seokjin,” you beg. “More.”
Sliding his finger out, Seokjin drops to his knees and drags you forward. Burying his head between your thighs, he licks leisurely up your sex. Gasping his name, your fingers twine in his hair.
Seokjin doesn’t slow, lips finding your clit for his tongue to lick. One hand on your waist, he uses the other to drape your thigh over his shoulder. From there, he gives you what you crave – which is everything. Alternating slow swirls with rough flicks of his tongue, he teases you expertly, bringing you close to the edge.
Already, he has you close to coming undone. “Seokjin,” you repeat, releasing his hair with one hand. “I need more.”
He pauses, glancing upwards with his lips wet and gleaming.
“Then take more,” he says, lowering himself again.
Realizing what he means, you thread your hands through his hair. Seokjin meets your gaze when you arch your hips, refusing to look away as you ride his face. Unable to stop, your thighs quiver as you move on his tongue.
Sucking hard on your clit, Seokjin slips a finger inside, then another, curling them against your g-spot. You find yourself moments away from the brink when Seokjin lifts his other hand, flicking over your nipple.
Immediately you combust, sensation sweeping through you as you fall apart. Seokjin doesn’t stop, gentle licks of his tongue bringing you down from your high. When your eyes flutter open, Seokjin pulls out his fingers and stands from the ground.
“Good?” he asks, brushing your lips with a kiss.
Nodding, you feel need stir inside you. Core throbbing, you realize you need more than this to be satisfied. You need him, fully and completely. Lips moving with yours, Seokjin seems to agree, as you feel his cock flush at your waist.
“Seokjin,” you say, reaching down.
Fingers wrapping around him, you turn his gaze lidded.
“Yeah?” he breathes, ignoring your grip.
“Want you,” you say simply, sliding your hand up and down. “Want this.”
Barely do these words leave your lips before Seokjin has you in his arms, lifting you from the counter. Spinning you around, he pulls your back to his front. Both of you facing forward, he brushes a kiss to your neck.
“Here first,” he murmurs, and you can only nod.
Seokjin’s hand finds your spine, pushing you forward until your elbows touch the counter. Tugging your waist backwards, you end with your hips parallel to the floor. Spreading your legs even wider, Seokjin reaches between them to slip a finger inside. You’re so wet, there’s barely any resistance.
Sliding back out, Seokjin doesn’t look away as he licks his finger. You’re so busy watching, you almost don’t notice his hips align to yours. A foil tears, his condom is rolled on and then the tip of his cock slides up and down, teasing you before pushing in.
In the mirror, you see your lips part in awe.
A glazed look settles over your face as Seokjin slowly fills you. Gripping the counter, you hang your head in acceptance as you push your ass back. He’s only halfway in – you know this from experience – but already, you find your legs quivering.
“Look at you.” Seokjin’s words are quiet in your ear. “So fucked out, and I’m barely inside you. Watch,” he demands, hand sliding around your throat to lift your head. He does this gently – oh, so gently – but it sends heat coursing through you. “I want you to see what you do to me.”
When your gaze meets his, you nearly come on the spot. Seokjin’s eyes are dark, jaw slightly tense as he works his way deeper. Hand caressing your spine, he keeps you relaxed as he thrusts another inch.
Seokjin looks so fucking good, while you – well, you look absolutely wrecked. Jaw slack, eyes lidded while you take his cock.
“Nearly there, baby.”
Seokjin moves in slow, shallow thrusts while he works his way deeper. Part of you wishes he’d push in all the way, but you know from experience it’s better like this. Sadistic it may be, but you love being denied. Love when Seokjin takes you to the edge and then yanks you back, doing this over and over until you’re practically sobbing, begging with the need for him to let you come. It makes the eventual orgasm even more powerful.
Tugging on your hair, Seokjin bottoms out. Back arched, ass out, you feel him nestled inside you. It’s a good thing he’s not bigger, because you seriously doubt you could take another inch. As it is, you feel Seokjin deep in your gut, rubbing the exact spot his fingers were hitting.
“Seokjin,” you whimper, pushing back.
A sharp, ringing crack comes down on your ass. You freeze, eyes wide as your knees turn to jelly. Seokjin spanked you. He actually spanked you, and your ass burns red-hot, but it’s more than that. A deep, primal need throbs in you for him to spank you again, fuck you harder, fill you up with his cum.
Momentarily, Seokjin breaks. “Was that alright?” he asks, soothing over the tender spot. “Did you like that?”
“Yes,” you breathe – fast. Too fast. “God, yes. Do it again.”
Melting into a smirk, Seokjin gives in and lifts his palm. It comes down with another smack, striking your right cheek and making you moan.
“Fuck,” you exhale. “Love that.”
“Do you?” Seokjin tilts his head. “You like being punished? Like me spanking you raw? Want it so hard, you can’t sit tomorrow?”
“Yes,” you moan, hanging your head.
Seokjin spanks you again, jolting his cock deeper.
“Look at me,” he demands, and you do. His eyes glint. “Good girl.”
Without warning, Seokjin pulls out his cock and rams it inside. You gasp, chest heaving as he starts to move. These are no slow, tender thrusts – Seokjin moves hard and fast, taking you against the counter.
While you enjoy making love, it’s been far too long since you did this with him. The frustration of being apart has built to a breaking point – later on, there’ll be time for soft words and whispers.
“Yes,” you gasp out, your hips hitting the counter.
Seokjin growls, fucking you harder and somehow getting deeper. Your eyes water from how good it feels to have him fill you, over and over. On a particularly hard thrust, he spanks you again and keeps his cock sheathed inside.
“There,” Seokjin breathes, bending forward. Trapping you against the counter, he grinds his cock deeper. “How does that feel? Want to come again?”
“Oh my god,” you moan, looking as wrecked as you feel.
Seokjin doesn’t pull back, keeping you still, but his cock continues to give thrusts from below. Each one breaks you further, shredding the rope threatening to snap inside.
“Seokjin, please,” you beg, and he seems to give in.
Pulling out of your cunt, he grabs your legs to hoist you upwards. Walking is too slow for you – Seokjin flies instead, bringing you into the bedroom and depositing you on the bed. Dropping onto the mattress, he pushes you back, hikes up your knee and thrusts inside.
You both gasp; overwhelmed by the closeness. Then Seokjin bends, capturing your lips as he begins to move. His hips roll, cock pounding into you to open you further. Each moan you make is swallowed by his lips, one of his hands grabbing yours to lift them both overhead.
He’s partly flying, you realize, hovering slightly to get the best momentum. One hand laced with yours, he keeps the other one on your hips to fuck you deeper. A strangled, needy sound escapes you as Seokjin lets go and gives you everything.
His cock, pounding you into the mattress. His lips, above yours. His eyes, open and star-filled above. Hands sliding up his back, you hold him closer, unable to do more as you break apart. Your orgasm crests, shuddering through you as your vision turns dark.
Squeezing him tightly, you hear Seokjin swear before releasing inside you. Cum floods the condom, hot and fast, nearly sending you into a second orgasm. Or third, at this point, you realize.
Slowly, your heart slows with your arms wrapped around him. Rolling onto his side, Seokjin pulls out and grabs a tissue from your nightstand. After cleaning you both and throwing everything in the trash, he laces your hands to drag you closer.
“Come here,” he says, laying you down on his chest.
Reaching below, he pulls a blanket over you both. Laying there, chin propped on his chest, your gaze roams his face. Messy hair, flushed skin, and dark gaze.
“Hi,” you murmur.
Smiling sleepily, he pulls you close. Bare chest pressed to his, you memorize the feeling of his lines against yours. Sometimes being naked isn’t a sexual want at all. Sometimes, it’s just about closeness and feeling wanted without anything in between you.
“Hi,” he says back, stifling a yawn.
Seeing this, you frown. “How fast did you fly here?” you ask, suspicion lacing your voice.
A flicker of guilt crosses his expression.
“Not… fast,” Seokjin says.
“Okay, kind of fast.” His grin grows, incorrigible. “Can you blame me? My perfect, naked girlfriend was at the end of my trip. I’d say the ends justified the means.”
Shaking your head, you try to look stern and fail. Laughing, Seokjin pulls you closer and kisses the top of your head. Fingers sliding down your back, he soothes a gentle rhythm over your spine.
Now that you’re still, the wild, dark thoughts you’ve managed to keep at bay start to creep in. Thoughts like when Seokjin will have to leave, when you’ll see him next, and when this will be over. If this will be over. Speaking with Katie has made you realize how much bigger the enemy is than you’d thought
Seokjin’s fingers still on your back.
“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, searching your face.
He lifts a brow. When you don’t respond, Seokjin softens. “Y/N,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
After a moment, you exhale.
“What if we fail,” you ask, daring to say the words out loud. “What if we take on ISA and we fail – what, then?”
It’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself to vocalize your fears and in response, Seokjin quiets. You wonder if he’ll say not to worry. The old Seokjin would have. The one before you broke up, before you realized the ISA you knew and placed your faith in wasn’t worthy of that trust.
Turning his head, Seokjin brushes a kiss to your temple. It could be your imagination, but he seems to hold you tighter.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s a possibility. Yeah, we could fail. We could even die. But when I think about the alternative, I can’t do anything else. I can’t stay at the Agency and do nothing.” Pulling back, Seokjin’s gaze searches yours. “Maybe its hubris talking, but I have to at least try and stop them. Even if the odds are stacked against us.”
Staring at him, the lump in your throat only grows. It seems unfathomable to recall you once walked away from this man. Not too long ago, you imagined Seokjin wouldn’t fight for your love and so, you gave him up instead.
He would fight for you, though. He has fought for you, and he continues to do so. So long as you have each other, you’ll know you’ve made the right choices.
Sensing the change in your expression, Seokjin frowns. “What is it? Did I say something stupid?”
“No,” you say, tilting your face up. “Not at all. I was just thinking about how lucky I am. I missed you.”
His grip on you tightens. “I missed you, too.”
“Not just the past week, but before. When we were broken up, I –”
Cutting you off, Seokjin presses his lips to yours. When he finally pulls back, he clasps your hands together, settling them on his heart.
“Let’s not talk about that,” he says quietly. “We both lived through that nightmare, but it’s over. We’re together now. If anything makes you confident we’ll get through this, let it be that.”
You smile. “There you are.”
“I was wondering when that annoying positivity of yours would show up.”
Seokjin growls, nipping your finger. “I can demonstrate other things for you, if you want.”
A shiver runs down your spine. “For now,” you say, lowering your head to his chest, “I just want this.”
He nods, moments of silence passing between you.
“I’ll have to go before the rain stops,” he murmurs. “But I can stay until then.”
His hand soothes up and down your back. “I’ll come back,” he says, almost too soft to hear. “I promise, Y/N.”
You’re unsure why him saying this makes your eyes fill with tears.
“I know,” you say quietly. “And if you don’t, I’ll just track you down.”
Seokjin chuckles, his body moving beneath you to hold you closer.
“Deal,” he agrees.
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Early the next morning, Seokjin leaves before the household has risen. You kiss him goodbye on your porch, nearly coercing him into a repeat of last night, but duty wins out in the end.
You stand in the rain after he leaves, staring at the overcast sky Seokjin disappeared beyond. Once you realize you’re shivering, you head inside to enter the shower and turn the water to hot.
When you head downstairs for breakfast, you’re surprised to find Jungkook already awake. Not looking up from his comic – Jungkook is an unapologetic Marvel nerd, despite his job – he lifts a spoonful of cereal to his lips.
“Did Seokjin leave?” he asks, turning the page.
Pausing your motions at the coffee machine, you nod. “Yep,” you mutter, dumping fresh grounds in the filter. “He left a few hours ago.”
“That it is,” you say, reaching up for a mug.
Silence falls between you, although not the uncomfortable kind. Jungkook and you have developed a routine from your many years working together.
Once the coffee has finished, you pour yourself a mug and sit beside him at the table. Staring out the window, you notice the rain has lessened a bit and hope Seokjin’s flight is easier.
Lifting his bowl, Jungkook drains the rest of his chocolate-y milk. Setting this down, he wipes his lips with the back of one hand.
“What?” he demands, noticing you staring.
“Nothing.” You hide a smile. “It’s just – does Zephyr know you drink your milk from the bowl?”
Jungkook’s cheeks turn a brilliant shade of crimson.
“She doesn’t – I don’t – why would that matter?” he stammers, and your grin widens.
“I knew it!” you say, leaning forward. “You have a crush on her, don’t you? I mean, you and half the world. Zephyr is hot. I don’t blame you.”
Recovering somewhat, Jungkook settles into a scowl.
“I don’t have a crush on Zephyr,” he says, trying to retain what remains of his dignity.
“Oh, really? Then, why do you blush like a tomato whenever her name is mentioned?”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“You are, Y/N,” Taehyung agrees as he enters the kitchen.
Somewhat surprised by the support from Taehyung, Jungkook blinks and then nods, pointing his spoon in your direction.
“See, Y/N?” he says, jabbing it sharply.
“It’s really more of a bright pink,” Taehyung says, replacing the coffee pot.
Jungkook’s expression shutters as you begin to crack up.
“See, this is why I don’t talk about my personal life,” he mutters, slumping low in his seat.
“Why?” you say, composing your features. “I just want to help!”
“You can help,” Jungkook says, brows raised, “by not fucking your boyfriend so loudly. I had to borrow Taehyung’s ear plugs, and who knows where those things have been.”
“He has a point.” Taehyung seats himself, taking a long sip of his coffee.
Before either of you can respond, Namjoon enters the kitchen. “Morning,” he says, oblivious to your conversation. “Are we all leaving soon?”
Taehyung and Jungkook look at him, baffled.
“Leaving?” you ask, draining your mug.
Namjoon glances around. “To get Roa,” he clarifies. Then, seeing none of you know what he’s talking about, he adds, “Taehyung, didn’t you get the alert? Someone spotted Roa an hour north on the Interstate.””
Frowning, Taehyung pulls out his phone. His expression quickly shifts from confusion to sheepish.
“Huh,” he says, turning around his phone. A giant, red ALERT flashes across the screen. “ISA sent this ten minutes ago. Knew I shouldn’t have muted their emails.”
“Same!” Jungkook reaches out for a high-five. “The amount of spam HR sends is out of control.”
“Right? If they’d just –”
“As scintillating as this conversation is,” you interrupt. “What’s the plan for getting Roa?”
“We’re getting Roa?”
Katie appears in the door. She seems out of breath, removing her ear pods, and you assume she just came back from her run.
“Yes,” says Namjoon, sipping on his coffee. He winces – too hot. “We were just discussing logistics.”
“What do you mean logistics? It’s pretty simple, right?” Katie frowns. “We just… go get him.”
“It’s a little more complicated,” Taehyung explains. “Based on what you’ve said, Roa’s not going to be super thrilled to see us.”
“And then there’s you three to think about,” Namjoon adds, glancing at you. “If ISA sees you, they’ll release additional supers.”
“Oh, shit.” Your brow wrinkles. “You’re right.”
It’s clear from the look on Jungkook’s face that he knows this but doesn’t care.
“Look.” Pushing his chair back, he stands. “You can leave us here if you want, but at the very least you’ll need Katie to convince Roa you’re friendly. And if you’re going to bring Katie, you might as well bring us. That way, we can get in and out fast before ISA gets there.”
Namjoon looks at Taehyung, who shrugs.
“He has a point,” Taehyung admits.
“Okay.” Namjoon nods, decision made. “Everyone – suit up and meet back in five minutes. We’ll take my cars.”
Everyone leaves the kitchen, dispersing upstairs. As you climb, you ask Jungkook, “Cars? We couldn’t take something faster?”
Jungkook snorts beneath his breath. “Knowing Namjoon, these won’t be your typical cars. You’ve heard of the Batmobile, right?”
“Of course.”
“Utter trash in comparison.”
Arching a brow, you stifle a laugh before entering your room to change.
Once you’re inside, you stare at your suit on the door. The white and gold ISA logo remains and it’s all you can do not to rip it off. For now, though, it remains your best option, since the custom build was made specifically for your powers.
Zipping yourself up, you return to the kitchen. Namjoon is the only one present and when you see him, you freeze.
“Whoa,” you breathe, taking in all his muscles. “Where did those come from, Kim?”
Namjoon flushes a little as he turns around.
“I told ISA the suit was too much,” he complains. “They partnered with the city’s education department and are trying to make learning sexy, or something. I told them that historically, those types of campaigns don’t perform well, but–”
“Nope,” you say as you enter. “Screw history, Joon. If anything could make me want to learn the periodic table, it’d be you in that suit.”
He laughs, a bit startled. Fastening metal gauntlets onto his wrists, Namjoon flexes them quickly to examine for damage.
“Most of my suit is stored in here,” he explains, tapping its edge. “It’s a special metal I made which expands upon contact with oxygen to release to full size.”
“You expand upon contact with oxygen to release to full size,” Taehyung says, walking into the kitchen.
Both you and Namjoon stare.
“I don’t know.” Taehyung checks his Glock. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Well, stop,” Jungkook says from behind him.
Both he and Taehyung have changed into the handler equivalent of a super suit. Fitted, long-sleeve shirts and pants made of durable fabric. Strapped over them is a harness equipped with various weaponry, reinforced with bulletproof metal.
Buckling the final strap, Jungkook glances up as Katie enters.
It’s strange to see her wearing ISA colors. One of the items Taehyung gathered when he went into headquarters was a spare super suit. It wasn’t designed specifically for Katie, so it won’t be as good as yours or Namjoon’s, but it’s better than nothing.
Turning her hands over, she looks up. “Does this fit okay?”
You nod, scanning her once. “You look good. And by good,” you say with a grin, “I mean badass and ready to kick ISA butt.”
A smile crosses Katie’s face before nodding.
Taehyung claps both hands together. “Alright! Here’s the plan: Namjoon and I are splitting up, with each of us driving a separate car. Katie will go with Y/N in my car. Jungkook will go with Namjoon. When we reach the spot Roa was seen, Namjoon and I will try to bring him in. If that doesn’t work, we’ll need your help,” he says to Katie.
She nods in affirmation.
“Any questions?” Taehyung offers.
Jungkook lifts a hand.
“Yes, you.” Taehyung points.
“At what point does this monologue stop so we can leave?”
Ignoring him, Taehyung turns to Namjoon. “If you use your evict button on him in the car,” he says. “I won’t object. Now, let’s go!”
He leaves the kitchen and, hiding a grin, you follow Taehyung down the hall. As you pass the living room, Jungkook leans closer.
“Do you really think there’s an evict button?” he mutters.
Aimless, you shrug. “You’re the one who compared Namjoon’s cars to the Batmobile. Did the Batmobile have an evict button?”
Jungkook appears stricken, but then Taehyung opens a door and you’re ushered downstairs. Leading you down another hall, you exit their house via cement block. The room you enter is dark until Namjoon reaches out, flicking on lights overhead.
Immediately, your eyes widen. You were impressed by Seokjin’s superhero lair in the city, but Namjoon has truly outdone himself.
The left side of the room contains a makeshift library. Books by the thousand have been stacked on iron shelves, stretching as far as the eye can see. The other side contains a command center, boxing ring, archery lane, and a giant tank of water. Namjoon doesn’t explain the purpose of the tank, and you don’t dare to ask.
Striding through the center of the room, Namjoon and Taehyung act as though their surroundings aren’t that impressive. Perhaps they’re not to them. There’s no telling how many compounds Namjoon has spread around the globe.
Katie and Jungkook are stunned into silence though, following your hosts to the other side. Here, several sports cars are lined in a row.
“Take this.” Namjoon scoops up a device from a table. He tosses this to Jungkook, who catches it eagerly. “This is the latest taser I’ve been working on – figure it might come in handy today. Recharge time is under a minute.”
“Awesome,” Jungkook breathes, strapping this to his waist.
Bypassing Audis and Bugatti’s, Namjoon comes to a stop beside an inconspicuous Kia. Glancing up from his taser, Jungkook’s expression falls.
“Is… this it?” He blinks, disappointed. “You took us down the row of auto wet dreams only to end up at a… Kia?”
Namjoon opens the door. “This one’s less conspicuous,” he states. “Unless you want ISA to pull us over before we reach Roa?”
Jungkook looks sorely tempted to say yes but somehow refrains.
“No,” he sighs, heading to the passenger side.
Once they’re gone, you lean over to Taehyung.
“Can Namjoon even drive?” You seem to remember the opposite from your time at the Academy. “I thought he never got his license.”
“Oh, he got it last year for a mission.” Taehyung pauses. “Admittedly, he’s not the best driver, but they should be fine. I think. Anyways,” he says, coming to a stop. “This is our car.”
Glancing to where he’s pointing, you break out in a grin.
While Taehyung bypassed most of the flashy sports cars, he’s chosen a blacked-out SUV. With heavily tinted windows and reinforced wheels, it looks like something straight out of a rap video.
“This is more like it,” you say, pulling open the door.
Katie follows, buckling herself into the backseat. Sticking the key in the ignition, Taehyung brings the engine to life as Namjoon opens the garage door. Before you, the dash of your car lights up and your eyes widen in surprise.
Jungkook was right. Forget about Apple play, or whatever normal cars come with; Namjoon has upgraded this interior to resemble a cockpit.
Sliding on sunglasses, Taehyung puts his car in drive and exits the house. Twisting around, you see a concrete slab slide down behind you. There’s only one road in and out of their lake house. Winding his way down the hill, Taehyung presses play on the stereo and Driver’s License, by Olivia Rodrigo, starts to play.
“Taehyung.” You stare at him in the mirror.
“This song came out ages ago.”
“And yet” – He turns it up louder – “it still slaps.”
In the backseat, Katie bites her lip to keep from laughing. Shaking your head, you stare out the window and allow the song to play on.
Aside from the stereo – which responds to Taehyung’s voice commands – you don’t see major improvements in the car until reaching the highway. A minute into cruising, Taehyung pulls a small lever and leans back in his seat.
“Ladies.” He crosses his arms. “Sit back, relax, and allow Sturmhond to take the wheel.”
“The name of the car.”
“Right, but why?”
“Ugh. Read the Shadow and Bone books, Y/N.”
With barely a shudder, the car jumps from sixty miles per hour to one-fifty-five. Stifling a gasp, you’re pressed back in your seat by the sudden change. Uncapping a bottle of water in the front seat, Taehyung seems unconcerned, while Katie looks equally shocked.
The car weaves in and out of traffic, zipping past those who continue at normal speed. This means the trip, which would ordinarily have taken an hour, takes merely twenty minutes. When you reach the spot marked red on your radar, Taehyung resumes control as the car slows.
Pulling off the highway, Taehyung enters a nondescript town. Its population is small, barely enough to house a bar, gas station and nearby grocery store. Following Namjoon down the main road, Taehyung pulls into the gas station and places the car in park.
Twisting around, he says, “Stay here.”
Spotting something flying towards you, your eyes widen.
“Uh, Taehyung–”
A boulder smashes into the front of your car.
Not hard enough to flip the vehicle, but hard enough for Taehyung to swear, shoving open his door to jump outside. Steam billows from the car’s engine, obscuring your view of the gas station beyond.
“Roa,” Katie whispers, searching the haze.
Before you can stop her, she teleports. Now, you’re the one swearing, unbuckling your seatbelt to push open your door. As you stumble free, you see the car’s front is only mildly damaged – still useable if you need a quick escape.
Twisting around, you freeze. Chaos.
Jungkook has exited, apparently thinking the same as you. A man you assume must be Roa squares off against Namjoon, who kneels before him in pain. Taehyung is halfway across the clearing already, sprinting in their direction when Katie appears.
“Roa, stop!” she yells, holding up her hands.
Seeing her, Roa’s eyes widen.
“I – Katie?”
Before he can react, Taehyung reaches Roa and tackles him to the ground. Or – at least, he tries to. With super-strength, Roa shoves him away and you wince when you see Taehyung’s shoulder pop.
A pained sound escapes him as Taehyung hits the ground. Trying to rise, Taehyung wobbles and falls, his right arm held at a disturbing angle.
Jungkook skids to a stop between him and Roa. “Stand down,” he says calmly, aiming his gun.
Roa’s eyes narrow at the threat.
“Roa, stop.” Teleporting again, Katie reappears before him. Pressing both hands to his chest, she shoves him back. “Let go of Namjoon! You’re hurting him.”
Uncertain, Roa looks down.
Their gazes meet and something unspoken passes between them until finally, he nods. Lowering his palms, Roa causes Namjoon to slump forward. Rushing towards him, you reach Namjoon’s side first.
“Namjoon,” you say, sinking to your knees. “Are you okay?”
Dazed, he shakes his head and looks up.
“I – yeah, I’m fine.”
Doing a quick sweep of his body, you find yourself satisfied and push upwards to stand. Remembering the source of his trauma, your head snaps to Roa.
“You,” you demand, stalking towards him. “What did you do?”
When Roa sees you, his eyes widen.
“Holy shit,” he breathes. “You’re Minutia.”
At his side, Katie stifles an eye roll.  “Sorry,” she says with a shrug. “I forgot Roa has a thing for you.”
Two bright pink spots appear on his cheeks.
“As a superhero!” Roa quickly corrects. “I just think your power is the coolest.”
From the ground, Taehyung chokes on a laugh. “There,” he pants, still struggling to stand. “That’s what you look like when you talk about Zephyr, Jungkook.”
Although he rolls his eyes, Jungkook goes to help Taehyung.
Ignoring them, you continue to focus on Roa. This close, it’s easy to see just how young he is. How young they both are. Although Roa is tall and built like a linebacker, his cheeks retain some of their baby fat.
“Thanks,” you say, brushing aside the compliment. “Now, what did you do to my friend?”
Before Roa can answer, Namjoon chimes in.
“Telepathy, right?” Rather than angry, he seems intrigued. “I’ve never felt anything like it. It was like Roa went inside my mind and switched off commands. I kept trying to press the mental force field button on my suit, but Roa kept blocking me.”
Sheepish, Roa nods. “Yeah.”
“He has super-strength and telepathy,” Katie explains. “He can control people’s actions with his mind.”
“Either of you have any healing powers?” Taehyung limps into the circle, right arm still hanging out of socket. “This hurts like a bitch.”
“Holy shit, Taehyung,” you blurt.
Logically, you know dislocations aren’t super-serious, but the visual is disturbing. You wish Hoseok were here, or Jimin – the doctor Seokjin keeps on call. Without them, Taehyung reaches out gingerly to examine his arm. Before you can react, he grips the shoulder tightly and wrenches it forward.
Namjoon swears as Taehyung’s shoulder slides into place.
“Taehyung!” you say, appalled. “You shouldn’t do that without a trained physician present.”
Giving you a look, Taehyung prods his shoulder. “That’d be me, Y/N,” he says. “I was a field medic before joining ISA as a handler.”
Although this is intriguing, you have more pressing matters to address. As though on cue, Jungkook’s phone begins beeping the Kim Possible theme.
“Whoops.” Ears red, he lowers his gun and pulls out his phone. “That’s embarrassing, I – oh, fuck.”
“What is it?” Namjoon looks at him sharply.
“That was Yoongi,” Jungkook says, stowing his phone in his pocket. “Apparently, Hypnosis and Nighthawk are on their way.”
Namjoon swears a second time, and Taehyung jumps in.
“We should go,” he says, pulling out his gun. “Before they show up and make even things worse.”
“Hang on,” Roa protests. “Who even are you? Why should I go with you?”
“Don’t you mean who are we besides Minutia?” Jungkook asks pleasantly. “Because clearly, you know who she is.”
“I won’t pretend that didn’t hurt,” Namjoon adds, shaking his head. Pressing a button at his wrist, flexible metal scales crisscross his arms. “I’m Brainblast. That’s my handler, Taehyung, you nearly decapitated.”
“And my handler, Jungkook,” you add. “I believe you know Katie.”
“Katie.” Roa turns to face her. “What’s going on? All of these people work–”
“Work for ISA?” you interrupt. With Nighthawk and Hypnosis closing in, there’s no time to debate. “Yes, and no. Jungkook and I are currently on the run because we helped Katie escape. Taehyung and Namjoon are hiding us.”
Roa’s intensity lessens somewhat, but before he can respond, the clearing around you plunges into darkness.
“Fuck,” you mutter – and something slams, hard into your chest.
Thrown backwards, you hit the ground as breath is knocked from your lungs. Not daring to stay still for long, you immediately roll and emerge into sunshine. The clearing beside the gas station has turned into a bizarre sort of battleground.
Shadowy darkness writhes not far away, lit up every few seconds with electronic pulses. You recognize these pulses as Namjoon’s force field. He must have had the presence of mind to hit the button when things went dark.
Darkness manipulation can only mean one thing – Nighthawk has arrived.
Twisting, you scan the sky in time to avoid being pummeled by Ava Kentmare – better known by her superhero alias, Hypnosis. Flipping once, Ava gracefully lands on the balls of her feet.
Auburn hair floating in the wind as she turns, glowing hazel eyes locking on yours. Show-off, you think.
“Minutia.” Ava gives a smile. “My, my, my. How the mighty have fallen.”
Unable to think of a proper comeback, you scowl. One of Ava’s most annoying powers is mimicry. Although she can’t fully emulate another’s superpower, she can absorb enough to be dangerous.
Take now, for instance. Ava’s main power is hypnosis – a form of telepathy like Roa’s – but she’s able to fly using Nighthawk’s power. She can’t fly as high as he can, nor for as long, but still. Flight can be impressive, especially when you use it to make a grand entrance.
“What?” Ava continues to walk. “No witty retort? I expected more from you, Minutia. You were always the most… entertaining in our class at the Academy.”
“Like a chimp,” you respond, falsely bright.
Dropping into a frown, Ava comes to a stop.
“Why Seokjin decided to date you, I’ll never know. Then, again,” she muses, tapping her chin. “It seems he realized his mistake. I was so sorry to hear about your break-up.”
All traces of mirth disappear from your face.
Behind Ava, Namjoon bursts free from Nighthawk’s shadows. Stumbling, he manages to right himself as Katie shoots forward. Nighthawk is ranked higher than Hypnosis on the SS scale, so you do your best to keep her focused on you. Both of them together could prove deadly.
“I can’t help but notice he’s not with you either,” you retort, equally sweet. “What’s the story there, Ava? Even with me gone he turned you down?”
Ava’s expression turns thunderous. “He –”
“I heard,” you interject, unable to help yourself. “You tried to arrange a photo op, and Seokjin had his handler sue the photographers.” Pausing to let this sink in, you arch a brow. “Ouch.”
“You –” Fuming, Ava’s eyes begin to glow red.
Having fought her at the Academy, you understand Ava’s powers well. Her hypnosis can only be used with direct eye contact, so you pointedly stare at a spot on her chin. Once you’re under Ava’s spell, she can make you do anything.
Stop fighting, turn on a comrade, even have you inflict self-harm.
Nighthawk’s yell breaks the moment between you. Glancing upwards, you realize Nighthawk has ceased using darkness. This makes sense. You’ve heard it’s a high-energy power, and Nighthawk is currently fighting two supers at once.
Using superspeed, Katie manages to throw a punch Jungkook would be proud of. Nighthawk avoids it, flipping in midair to slam his foot to her chest. Although Katie outranks him on the SS scale – three combative powers is nearly unheard of – she’s rarely fought with her powers before.
Thrown to the ground, Katie lies there a moment before flipping to her feet – and freezing. Faced off against Nighthawk, she seems to forget herself.
Fingers trembling, she stares at him, wide-eyed, and Nighthawk uses the opportunity to blast Namjoon backwards with darkness. Namjoon rights himself with his suit and Roa enters the fray. Nighthawk narrowly misses the car thrown at his head.
“A little help?” Nighthawk yells, righting himself in midair.
“Sorry!” Ava calls and shoots upwards.
Katie remains frozen below them, utterly helpless. Recognizing her peril, you spin around and sprint for Namjoon’s car.
“Katie!” you yell. “Get out of the way!”
Snapping free of her trance, Katie bolts towards the parking lot.
Not having time to address her, you continue to run. A vague plan begins to form in your mind, but there’s no time to work out the details. All your training was to disarm, not to kill, but you’re finding this a little difficult given the circumstances.
Skidding to a stop, you wrench open Namjoon’s car door and throw yourself in the driver’s seat.
Ava swoops down, her left hand outstretched towards Katie, who crouches behind a car – until a bright beam of light hits her square in the chest. Below her stands Jungkook, taser aimed overhead. Entire body convulsing, Ava drops from the sky like a stone.
Namjoon’s keys are still in the ignition. Placing the car in drive, you step on the gas and shoot forward. Ava stirs in the dust, aftershocks rippling along her suit in blue waves. Her suit must be reinforced with rubber, or something similar since she manages to rise.
The moment she lifts her head, you stretch out a hand and freeze her.
You’re seconds away from hitting Ava when another bolt of darkness shoots from the sky. Nighthawk. It slams into the front of your car, flipping your world upside down. Pulling your power back from Ava, you focus on freezing the vehicle.
It takes a tremendous amount of energy, but you do it. The car freezes mid-flip, the fight continuing around you. Arms shaking, you manage to undo your seatbelt and throw yourself from the vehicle. As soon as you’re clear, you release time and watch the car roll, then explode.
Ava appears at your side. Teleportation, borrowed from Katie.
“Cool power,” she says, and freezes you.
Panicked, you strain against her grip but to no avail. Your muscles refuse to move, frozen in time by your own power. You can still think, still observe, but everything else remains static.
Not wasting any time, Ava whirls around and her foot connects with your jaw. Unable to move, the shock reverberates through you, toppling you backwards. You land in the same position on the ground, entire body frozen and ringing with pain.
Squinting, you watch Ava walk closer. The fact that you squint means her grip is already lessening. Ava can mimic someone else’s power, but only one at a time, and not at full strength. She won’t be able to hold you for long.
Teeth gritted, you strain with all your might and see a flicker of worry enter her gaze.
“I’d move fast,” you pant, your tongue loosening. “Before I’m fully free. A tip, from one super to another.”
Ava hisses, her right arm pulling back and Jungkook grabs her by the wrist. Faster than you can see, he latches on a titanium cuff. In response, Ava releases your power to punch him with super-strength stolen from Roa.
Flying backwards, Jungkook slams into Taehyung’s car. His body hits metal with a sickening crunch, sliding to the ground where he stays, unmoving.
Instantly, your vision turns red.
Freed from your power, you thrust out both hands without a second thought. Strength swirls within you, dark and dangerous, before you unleash. Eyes wide, Ava has no time to move before your power rips through her.
Most of the time, you use your power to freeze. Occasionally, you speed up your molecules so you can move at superspeed. Sometimes though, you lose control entirely. Speeding molecules so fast, they overheat and explode.
The same image plays in your mind, over and over. Jungkook, flung backwards like a rag doll and crashing into the car. If he ends up injured – or worse – Ava deserves to feel pain.
Your power hits home. Ava screams when her hand – the same one extended towards Jungkook – suddenly explodes in a red, pulpy mess.
The world around you seems to slow. Each second becomes a pump of your heart, too much taking place for you to fully absorb. Jungkook, struggling to lift himself from the ground. Namjoon, blasting Nighthawk backwards with a gadget on his wrist. Ava, swaying unsteadily on her feet.
Blackness creeps in from the edges of your vision. Taking a shaky step, you feel your knees start to buckle. Using combustion drains your energy, and you’d been fighting for a while before that took place.
Taking a deep breath, you blink, and the scene before you has changed. Swooping lower, Nighthawk grabs Ava and lifts her into the sky. Her head lolls on his chest, clearly unconscious. Guilt twinging, you try not to look at her mangled arm.
Swaying again, you ready yourself to pursue, but then you see Jungkook. He still hasn’t risen, and you realize you can’t leave. You just can’t.
Diverting course, you stumble towards him. Reaching out a hand, you pause, then retract, not wanting to injure him further. Exhaling once, you realize his eyes are open, although Jungkook continues to wince and clutch at his right side.
“Are you okay?” you demand.
Jungkook’s gaze focuses on you, and then narrows. “Yeah, fine,” he exhales. “You’re one to talk, though.”
“I’m fine,” you state, although the world continues to spin. “What were you thinking, taking on Ava alone like that?”
“Neither of you are fine,” Namjoon determines, landing beside you. “Which of you is injured worse?”
Each of you points at the other.
“He is,” you insist. “I overexerted my powers, but Jungkook was thrown into that car.”
Namjoon’s eyes widen.
“Tis but a scratch,” Jungkook manages, quoting Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
By this point, the rest of your group has gathered. Even Katie has joined, although she still seems somewhat shell-shocked.
“Okay, Monty Python.” Namjoon glances away. “Katie – can you teleport?”
Dully, she nods.
“Okay. Take Jungkook and teleport back to my compound. I’ll fly Y/N with my suit, and Taehyung and Roa can follow in the working car. Good?”
Jungkook’s head lolls. “Monty Python isn’t an actual character in the Holy Grail, Namjoon.”
“Alright.” Ignoring this, Namjoon shakes his head. “Let’s go.”
Katie nods, bending beside Jungkook. Taking a deep breath, she touches him, and they disappear, leaving behind a bloody patch of grass. Before you can say anything, a wave of nausea sweeps through you and your legs buckle.
Eyes widening, Namjoon lunges forward and that’s the last thing you see before the world fades to black.
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It takes several hours, one saline drip and all Namjoon’s medical knowledge before you feel normal again. The main ailment you have is power overuse, which takes time and electrolytes to fully heal.
In comparison, the others aren’t as lucky. Taehyung’s arm is bound in a sling, Namjoon sprained a finger, and Jungkook remains unconscious for several hours.
After a preliminary exam, Namjoon believes he broke three ribs, fractured his wrist, and suffered a slight concussion. Jungkook refuses to be brought to the hospital though, so for now, you’re waiting until Jimin or Hoseok can join. You keep telling yourself things could be worse, but it’s a hard fact to hold onto.
Katie is okay. So is Roa, although at least he joined the fight at the end. Katie is the most powerful super in your group and when it came time to help, she utterly choked. As difficult as this is, you try to temper your anger. Katie is only a child, after all, and battle can be stressful for the most seasoned super. You know you wouldn’t be angry, had Jungkook not gotten hurt.
You’ve always had a blind spot when it comes to people you love. It’s part of the reason you haven’t seen your parents in so long. The moment you realized you had powers, you left for the Academy and tried to keep your distance. This was easier than having them used against you.
Because your parents would be used against you. You’re predictable when it comes to the people you love. You’d burn the whole world down before allowing any harm to come to them. Before Seokjin, this was the main reason you kept everyone out. Better to never love than leave yourself open to manipulation.
Falling for Seokjin wasn’t part of the plan, and it changed everything. After him, you couldn’t help but let other people in. Those you care for might be a small list, but you’d kill or die for any of them. Seeing Jungkook hurt was more terrifying than facing your own injuries.
Even after a local doctor visits and echoes Namjoon’s assessment that Jungkook isn’t in immediate danger, you still feel tense. All the next day, you’re quieter, but this is probably better than what you’d say otherwise.
Instead, you turn your attention to Roa, who’s joined you at the lake house. Since his arrival, he’s mostly kept his distance, but at least he showed up when Namjoon called a group meeting.
Seated at the table, Namjoon rubs his forehead. “Well,” he says with a deep sigh. “That could’ve gone better.”
“I’ll say,” you mutter.
The rest of your party nods in agreement.
Jungkook is the only one absent, knocked out by powerful sleeping meds. It was the only way to keep your handler in bed. He continues to insist his injuries are nothing despite the black and blue bruises blossomed over his skin.
Taehyung glances at you. “Jungkook will be fine.”
“I know,” you say stiffly. “It still shouldn’t have happened.”
Although you don’t look in Katie’s direction, she seems to understand what you mean, because she lowers her head to stare at the table.
“I – I know I messed up,” she says, quiet. “I just panicked. I froze. I couldn’t –”
“It’s alright,” Namjoon cuts in.
“You did nothing wrong,” Roa adds, throwing a glare your way. It seems his crush was forgotten the instant you threatened Katie.
“Easy for you to say,” you say, glaring back. “No one you care about has been hurt.”
“Someone I care about is hurt,” he says sharply. “Except you’re the one doing the hurting, so my retaliatory responses are limited.”
Somewhat admonished, you glance away. You’re aware you’re not being reasonable, but you’re also not sure how you can be, when Jungkook almost died.
Waiting a moment, Namjoon clears his throat. “So. It seems our cover’s been blown.”
Wincing at this, you realize he’s right.
Hypnosis and Nighthawk will have told everyone you’re hiding with Namjoon. The bright side to all this is Namjoon’s a conspiracy theorist – even worse than you are. You used to tease him about it at the Academy, but now it might be your saving grace.
It means Namjoon only has one address known to ISA. His lake house, the chalet in Switzerland, and various other compounds remain untouched and untraced. It will take a while for ISA to track you down, especially with Yoongi throwing them off from inside.
For now, you’re safe but you won’t be for long.
“Well.” Taehyung shrugs. “We all knew this day would eventually come. We couldn’t keep hiding forever.”
“True,” Namjoon agrees. “We just need to figure out what to do now.”
The room falls silent, no one offering any new suggestions. Although no one says it, you can feel the helplessness weighing down the table. You couldn’t defeat two supers alone – how can you honestly hope to take on the Agency?
As though on cue, Taehyung’s phone rings. Soldier, by Destiny’s Child, breaks the silence. Cutting this off, Taehyung presses the speak button.
Yoongi’s voice follows. “Heard you all got your cover blown.”
Impossibly, your scowl deepens. “Is Seokjin doing okay?”
“He’s here. Made it back before everything went down, so that’s good. It doesn’t seem like ISA suspects him of anything.”
“That’s good,” you say, exhaling. At least one thing went right today.
“That’s not why I’m calling, though.”
“And why are you calling?” asks Namjoon.
“To congratulate Y/N.” Yoongi sounds gleeful. “I would’ve loved to be there when she chopped off Hypnosis’ hand.”
“That’s – I didn’t chop off her hand,” you sputter.
“Sure, sure. You combusted it off. Potato, potato. She’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’m sure ISA is off making her a bionic hand, or something. But what I really called to say is we found Operation Made.”
Roa goes still. “You found the facility?”
“Who’s that?” Yoongi asks, curious. “The other escapee? Nice to meet you, I’m Yoongi. The guy who continually saves your ass.”
“Hey.” Roa nods. “Roa.”
“Short and sweet. I like this guy. Okay, so we don’t have much time – the made supers are being held in the same facility the control serum is being engineered.”
“Okay.” Taehyung frowns. “So, what do we do?”
“What we do,” Yoongi states, matter of fact. “Is figure out some way to meet without ISA knowing. Then, we’ll break into their top-secret, heavily guarded facility and destroy the serum. After that, we just free all the made supers, convince them not to retaliate and tell the world ISA sucks. Hm. Did I leave anything out?”
Stunned silence follows.
“World peace would be nice,” you say at last.
“Right, cool. Any ideas on that front?”
Namjoon lifts a hand. “I might have one.”
“On world peace?”
“No.” Namjoon frowns. “On the other plan. My idea might be bad, though.”
“Doubtful,” says Taehyung, adjusting his sling.
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“Okay.” Namjoon pauses. “For this to work though, we’re going to need more people. Like, a lot more.”
“How many did you have in mind?” asks Yoongi.
“Let’s not discuss that over the phone,” Namjoon says. “I have a warehouse in the city ISA doesn’t know about. It’s registered to a shell corporation that’s practically untraceable. We should be able to meet there and talk freely.”
Roa stares at him, baffled. “Who are you?”
Dramatic, Namjoon stands from the table. “Brainblast,” he says, then immediately winces. “Fuck. I hate that name.”
“We can think of new ones on the drive into the city.”
All of you turn, startled by the sound of Jungkook’s voice. He leans, weary, against the doorway and in response, Taehyung stands.
“You should be lying down,” he accuses.
“Lying down?” Yoongi sounds alarmed. “Why? What happened? Is Jungkook hurt?”
“A few cracked ribs,” Jungkook says, forcing himself to enter. “Nothing bad.”
“Uh. That sounds bad, man.”
“He’s supposed to be on bed rest,” you say with a glare. “Not organizing this harebrained mission with us.”
“If Namjoon thought of it, I doubt it’s harebrained,” counters Jungkook.
“You still shouldn’t go,” you press on. “You’re injured.”
“I’ll make my own decisions, thanks.” Jungkook looks away. “Namjoon, where are we headed?”
Namjoon glances between you and your handler before, wisely, deciding to ignore the interruption.
“We’ll meet in the city,” he says, glancing at the phone. “Jungkook should come only because it’d be dangerous to stay behind, but Y/N is right. You shouldn’t fight.”
“We’ll see.” Jungkook flashes a grim smile.
“Great.” Yoongi’s voice crackles. “I’m going to hang up before this call seems suspicious, but I’ll track this burner phone to your location. Meet there tomorrow at four.”
He hangs up, leaving a dial tone as Taehyung sinks back in his seat.
“Well.” Taehyung looks up. “I think it’s time you told us the rest of the plan, Joon.”
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The most difficult part of getting into the city ends up being selecting which vehicles to drive. Eventually, pragmaticism wins and you pile into two Hyundai cars around 2:30 PM.
“No one has ever done anything cool driving a Hyundai,” Jungkook states glumly, buckling himself into the backseat.
He’s moving slowly due to his injuries, but Namjoon was right – it’s safer for him to come, as opposed to staying and waiting for ISA to find him.
“That’s kind of the point,” Namjoon says, checking his mirrors before backing out. “The goal is to make it into the city undetected. Besides – these aren’t normal Hyundai’s. Do normal Hyundai’s have state of the art plasma shields? Didn’t think so.”
Forced to agree, Jungkook falls silent and stares out the window.
You switched cars earlier, leaving Katie and Roa to Taehyung and choosing to ride with Namjoon. Mostly, you’ve forgiven Katie for her inaction, but you figured she could use the time alone with her boyfriend.
Also, it gives you time to interrogate Namjoon on his plan. He still hasn’t said all the details, insisting he wanted to work through some scenarios.
“So,” you say, aiming for casual. “Where’s this warehouse, again?”
“Lower west side. Down by the docks.”
“Mhm. And what time will we get to the city?”
“GPS says around three. Jungkook,” Namjoon says, glancing up. “Does she always grill you this hard?”
“Harder,” Jungkook says, hiding a smile.
You scowl at your handler’s profile. “I’m just trying to keep us from getting killed.”
“That’s my job,” Jungkook points out. “Usually, you’re the one coming up with the ridiculous plans and I’m the one pointing out their flaws.”
Although you ignore this, Jungkook has a point. It used to be you who came up with the risky scenarios – Exhibit A, your plan to sneak into ISA headquarters and discover the truth about Katie.
Last time though, your hare-brained scheme ended with painful consequences. Sure, you discovered the truth about Operation Made, but it also resulted in your current situation. You and Seokjin torn apart, your team branded villains and Jungkook hurt.
Obviously, you’ve always known your actions have consequences. That’s page one in the superhero handbook. In the past though, you always managed to scrape by through a combo of luck and skill. Now though, you’re realizing no amount of can-do attitude can fix things, meaning you can’t go about things the way you always have.
“Hey,” Jungkook says, a bit quieter.
Turning your head, you avoid his gaze. “Hey.”
He sets his jaw. “This isn’t your fault, you know.”
“What’s not?”
“Me getting hurt.”
Your entire body tenses, and your gaze flicks to his: you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Jungkook repeats. “I took a stupid risk, and it failed.”
“Well,” you say, finally recovering your voice. “You took a stupid risk because of me.”
“I’m your handler. It’s what we do.”
“Yes, well –”
“Sometimes risks pay off,” he interrupts. “Sometimes they don’t. I’m the one making that call though, Y/N. If you think you can just leave me behind, then you obviously don’t know me very well. The only thing I’d find unforgiveable is if you made my choices for me.”
After a long moment, you nod.
You really do understand. One of the reasons you and Jungkook are such close friends is because you’re similar. Both stubborn, both fiercely independent and both driven by the same incessant need to prove yourselves.
Seokjin has always balanced you out. He’s genuinely comfortable in his own skin – something you can’t begin to fathom. Seokjin is the kind of person who handles fame easily, like everything else. He accepts that other people look up to him, but he doesn’t let it define who he is, or what he thinks of himself.
You’ve always had trouble with that. To you, it feels as though each mistake you make as a super is amplified and each consequence you face, unfathomable. To be asked to sit by while other people determine your fate might be worse than actual death.
Knowing this about yourself, you exhale. “I just want this to be over.”
Namjoon chuckles from the front seat.
“Sorry,” he says, glancing back. “But you know the world. It’s just going to go and fuck itself up again. And then, we’ll be back on the front lines. It’s what we do.”
It’s what you do. His words are simple and yet, they bring a sense of rightness you can’t ignore. One of the main reasons the past week has shaken you is because ISA is supposed to be this paradigm of good. They’re the voice of reason amidst chaos. With them proven fallible, it leaves you to fend for yourself.
Up until now, you weren’t sure whether the voice inside you was good enough. You’re by no means a perfect person. When Katie froze the other day, you were mad, even though you knew this was illogical. Rather than stay and fight when you and Seokjin had troubles, you packed a bag and left. When Jungkook was injured, you lost control and harmed another person. If it hadn’t been for years of discipline, you might have killed Ava.
In the past, you’ve dealt with close calls and death by reminding yourself you’re acting in protection of humanity. ISA only sent you after villains who deserved it. Without that same sense of security, you’re left reevaluating everything.
At least you’re not doing so alone, though. You suppose that’s the difference between yourself and villains. You have Seokjin. You have Jungkook, and Namjoon and everyone else who’s helped you along the way. No one is infallible. No one is right one hundred percent of the time, but so long as you’re aware, and listen to those around you, you’ll be alright.
Satisfied by this thought, you sit back and finish the ride in silence. Entering the city is relatively simple, and before you know it, you’ve parked in an empty spot by the docks.
“Is this it?” Jungkook cranes his neck to look. “I’m sorry, Namjoon, but this just looks like an empty warehouse.”
“Wait for it,” Namjoon says calmly.
As though on cue, the cement wall before you begins to rise. Driving forward, Namjoon parks the car, and waits as it descends. The moment it does, the floor shudders beneath you and begins to sink.
Swearing out loud, Jungkook grabs the headrest, and you would laugh, but you feel similarly thrown. You realize the floor is an elevator when a new room is revealed. Beneath the dusty warehouse lies a second level that puts Namjoon’s lake house to shame.
When the car finally stops, you crane your neck upwards. Another concrete slab has replaced itself above you in the ceiling.
“This is it, folks!” Namjoon unbuckles his seatbelt. “We’re here.”
Jungkook stares at the headrest, looking slightly green.
“I did not like that,” he says finally, following suit.
With a laugh, you exit the vehicle and shut the door. Ahead, Taehyung has already parked and is stretching his legs. Katie and Roa are a few feet away, already looped into conversation with a familiar head of black hair.
“Yoongi!” you cry, rushing forward.
There’s barely time for Yoongi to look up before you barrel into him. Wrapping him in a tight hug, you bury your face in his shoulder. Gingerly, he reaches up to pat you once on the back.
“Hello,” he says.
Pulling away, you hold him at arms-length. “Min Yoongi,” you scold. “You’ve gotten even better looking while we’ve been apart.”
“Careful, Y/N.” He lifts a brow. “You’ll get me into trouble with your boyfriend.”
“Seokjin?” you say, eagerly dropping your arms. “He’s here? Like – here, here. Not here, as in –”
You’re cut off by Seokjin, swooping down to land in your midst. Shaking hair from his gaze – he really should get a haircut – he holds out both arms and, ignoring the cliché you both are, you obligingly run.
Crushing you to his chest, Seokjin buries his face in your shoulder. Not long ago, you would’ve been concerned about how you looked, if his fans were watching, or what people might think, but now your only thought is of him.
When you finally pull back, you find him smiling. Seokjin is dressed in a blue t-shirt and sweats – he must have been practicing, since a slight sheen of sweat dots his brow. Frankly, he looks good, and you wish you weren’t having this reunion in public.
Seeming to sense what you’re thinking, Seokjin’s grin widens.
“Enough of that.” Shaking his head, Hoseok strides into view. “Your lovey-dovey-ness is enough to make even me sick.”
“Hoseok!” you exclaim, rushing forward.
He laughs when you hug him, staggering backwards a step. From the similar sweat on his brow, you assume he was the one fighting Seokjin. This doesn’t surprise you. Despite his lower rating of five on the SS scale, Hoseok is one of the most popular superheroes in the city, under the alias Apollo.
Hoseok is definitely one of the more creative supers when it comes to combat. Although he has two superpowers, neither healing nor regeneration are considered combative. And yet, Hoseok holds his own against more powerful supervillains. Armed with technology designed for him by Namjoon, Hoseok is hard to defeat because he’s ridiculously difficult to kill.
No matter what happens, he just doesn’t die. Arm cut off? Regenerated in seconds. Ribs fractured? Instantly healed. No one has ever cut off Hoseok’s head but lead ISA scientists aren’t sure even that would kill him. Hoseok’s go-to move is to let a villain get the first punch, pretend to be injured, then strike.
“Who won?” you ask, glancing back at Seokjin.
“It was a tie,” he says stiffly.
Hoseok drops a wink. “Sure, it was.”
Grin widening, you’re about to probe further when Taehyung interrupts.
“Hate to break up the party,” he says, entering the circle, “but we do have a bunch of supers to free.”
“Right, sure.” Hoseok is suddenly all business. “What does Namjoon need us to do?”
Currently, Namjoon speaks with Yoongi, Roa and Katie at the table nearby. At the sound of his name, he glances up and ushers you over. Joining him, you hop down from the concrete slabs on which the cars rest.
“What we need,” Namjoon begins, and then stops. “Hang on – we’re missing people.”
“Who’re we missing?” Jungkook joins from the car.
He’s hiding his injuries well. Years of training has bred it into him, although you notice immediately. Jungkook favors his left side when he walks when he typically favors his right. Beneath his baggy coat, a splint braces his wrist and bruises color the right side of his face.
“You were missing me,” says a familiar voice. “But now that I’m here, we can begin. Oh – and I brought friends.”
Turning around, you see Zephyr enter. She must have come in a different entrance on foot since the cement door above hasn’t moved. Zephyr is her superhero alias – you realize with a start you don’t know her civilian name. Then again, Zephyr has always been more private than most.
You do know her power of air manipulation is unrivaled. Without a doubt, Zephyr has the best grasp on any elemental power. Able to create storms as easily as she can fly, she’s even able to master air vacuums.
Beside her walks a red-haired woman you recognize as Zephyr’s handler, an older man you don’t know, and Park Jimin.
“Jimin!” Beaming, you wave. “Long time, no see!”
Jimin’s smile widens walking closer. “Hey, Y/N! How’re those stitches holding up?”
“All gone,” you say, lifting your arm to demonstrate. “Hoseok healed me a few days later.”
“Hi.” Hoseok sticks out a hand. “Jung Hoseok. Healing and regeneration.”
“I know who you are,” Jimin laughs, shaking his head. “Can’t wait to work together.”
At this point, Yoongi calls Jimin over, forcing the doctor to leave with an apologetic smile. Yoongi hands him something which looks like a key, and in the meantime, you notice Seokjin scowling. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, Namjoon steps away.
“Zephyr.” He nods at the super. “And Siobhan,” he adds to her handler. “I’m so glad to see you. You must be Zephyr’s friend.” Namjoon’s smile widens. “She said you might decide to come.”
Nodding, the guy glances around your circle. He looks older than you are, although it’s hard to tell. The lines around his eyes could be a symptom of age, or simply an unintended consequence of the job. With graying hair at the temple, you think it’s safe to assume he’s at least ten years older.
“Everyone, this is Chameleon,” says Zephyr. “He’s going to help with our plans.”
Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath. “Whoa. You’re… Chameleon? As in, the original super, Chameleon?”
Now, your eyes are also wide.
The original supers fought in the first super war and helped form the ISA. Most of them have died – some in the line of duty and others, from old age or illness. Chameleon was the youngest of the supers at the time, but ISA was formed nearly sixty years ago. Suddenly, his looks seem much more impressive.
“That’s me,” the guy says and to your surprise, he also laughs. “Although, I’d much prefer you call me Rowan.”
“Sure.” Jungkook seems dazed. “Rowan.”
You would laugh, but right now, you’re feeling similarly starstruck. The original supers are legendary in what they accomplished and were known to be extremely principled. You’re sure if more were alive, ISA would never have gotten away with Operation Made.
Having Chameleon on your side is no small feat. If you remember correctly, he has powers of regeneration and camouflage. Regeneration probably explains his outward appearance. Camouflage is something of a misnomer; Chameleon can physically change the appearance of himself or other people through touch.
“I thought he’d come in useful.” Zephyr shrugs. “Especially if we’re planning to infiltrate the Agency.”
“Absolutely,” says Namjoon. “Wow, this is seriously perfect. It’ll make one of the phases of my plan so much easier.”
“Which is?” asks Roa.
“Exactly what Zephyr said.” Namjoon pauses. “We’re going to infiltrate the ISA, ruin the serum and free the made supers. Speaking of which, I have good and bad news.”
“What’s the bad news?” Taehyung asks.
“The ISA has completed the control serum. They’re performing a demonstration tomorrow.”
“Awesome,” Jungkook says. “So, what’s the good news?”
“The good news is it just got easier to infiltrate ISA and stop them.  Rowan, come with me,” he says, turning away. “I want to test out some things with Yoongi. Hammer out logistics before tomorrow morning.”
“What about the rest of us?” Seokjin asks as they leave.
“Rest,” Jimin says, cutting in. “Eat well and get sleep tonight. Once the plan is solidified, Namjoon will let us know.”
Grateful, Namjoon nods and continues walking. The rest of you are left standing at the table until Jimin clears his throat.
“There’s a kitchen back there,” he says, pointing towards the hall Zephyr came from. “Bedrooms, too. I know it’s hard, but the best thing a super can do before a fight is conserve energy.”
“He’s talking about you two,” Taehyung says, looking at you and Seokjin. “Conserve your energy tonight.”
Rolling your eyes, you tug on Seokjin’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” he laughs, turning away.
As you leave, you notice Zephyr glancing at Jungkook. She’s trying to be discreet, but she’s definitely staring, and you can’t help but feel a sense of vindication. Of course, Jungkook is pointedly not looking at her, so he doesn’t notice.
It kind of makes you want to smush their heads together. Then again, if people always communicated effectively, 99% of romcoms would never be written.
Passing under an arch and into the hallway, you shiver. While Namjoon’s lake house managed to maintain its homey feel, the warehouse exudes bomb shelter vibes. It makes everything you’re about to do feel more daunting. If it weren’t for Seokjin beside you, you’re certain you would be freaking out.
Hearing Katie’s voice, you pause. Turning around, you realize she’s followed you out from the main floor.
“Katie,” you say, surprised. “What’s going on?”
“I…” Her gaze darts to Seokjin. “Can we talk for a minute – alone? I promise it’ll be short.”
Something about her expression makes you think it won’t be short, but you nod and wave Seokjin on.
“Sure,” you agree. “Seokjin, I’ll catch up.”
Seokjin hesitates, and you can tell he doesn’t like the idea of being parted so soon. Although you don’t blame him, Katie looks as though she’s on the edge of a breakdown. Squeezing your hand, he finally departs, leaving you two alone.
You glance at her. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” you ask. “For all Namjoon’s supposed brilliance, he built a bomb shelter that seems to echo. I wouldn’t blame you if –”
“I don’t think I should come on the mission tomorrow.”
Surprised, you cut yourself off.
For a moment, you can only stare and try to work out what she’s thinking. Katie looks to be on the verge of tears, but her jaw is set. Hands clenched, she seems to be convincing herself, as well as you. You’re somewhat surprised Roa isn’t with her, and wonder if he’s the one behind this.
“Did Roa –”
“No.” Katie laughs, a bit broken. “I told him this last night, and he tried talking me out of it. I think it’s for the best. I can’t be trusted in battle.”
“What do you mean… can’t be trusted?”
Pain enters her gaze. “Come on,” she whispers. “You saw what happened to me the other day. I thought I was prepared and I just… froze. I panicked facing Nighthawk, and Jungkook got hurt.”
“Sure,” you say slowly. “But Jungkook was hurt by Hypnosis, not Nighthawk. It had nothing to do with any mistake you made.”
“But it could have,” she challenges. “You were right to be mad at me.”
Ashamed, you look down.
“I wasn’t right about that,” you say, forcing yourself to look up. This needs to be said face to face. “Katie, I’m sorry about how I reacted. I know I’ve been doing this longer, but I’m still learning. It’s easy for me to make mistakes, too.”
“I guess.”
Studying her, you tilt your head. “What I can’t figure out is why.”
“Why… what?”
“Why you froze,” you clarify. “I watched you practicing with Taehyung and Jungkook at the lake house. You beat them most times. Hell, you even beat Namjoon a few times. What changed when you were facing Nighthawk?”
“None of those times were real.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s different,” Katie insists. “I fought you guys in a controlled environment, one where I knew I couldn’t cause serious harm. I knew that if I did something wrong – if I somehow lost control…”
Lamely, she trails off, and you realize what’s wrong.
The day at the docks. While fighting you and Seokjin a few weeks ago, Katie slipped and nearly injured a civilian with her powers. You intervened in time, but you saw the look on Katie’s face before she fled the scene. She was terrified.
“You don’t want to hurt anyone,” you say quietly.
Relieved, Katie nods.
Exhaling deeply, you look past her to the main compound. Roa is talking to Taehyung and Jungkook and, while you watch, they break into laughter. It’s a remarkable shift compared to Katie, who didn’t trust handlers a good week after her rescue.
Maybe it’s because Roa escaped early enough from ISA. He didn’t undergo all the trauma Katie did and yet, you wonder if it’s deeper than that. Katie reminds you a lot of yourself. She takes on trauma from other people and never releases her own. It’s easier to simply push through than admit things are hard. For her to be telling you now means she’s at a breaking point.
“I get it,” you say, still not looking at her. “You’re powerful, Katie. More powerful than any of us. Having three powers… hell, that hasn’t been seen since Prima Mala.”
“Prima Mala was a villain.”
“Yeah. Because of the choices she made,” you say, turning back. “Here’s something the ISA won’t tell you – the line between heroes and villains? Thin. It’s easy to think you’re doing the right thing and end up causing harm. Even the good guys hurt people, sometimes.”
“That’s… easy for you to say.”
“It’s not easy for me to say. I’ve done bad things. I’ve made the wrong call. I’ve hurt people I care about. I’ve made bad decisions,” you confess, quiet. “It’s what you do after that counts.”
Katie shakes her head. “This isn’t as simple as fixing past mistakes. This is about what I do now with my powers.”
“I know,” you say, your voice softening. “I wish I could say nothing bad will ever happen. I wish I could say you won’t hurt anyone else. I can’t tell you that, but I can ask what your gut is saying.”
“Your gut,” you repeat. “When you think about Operation Made – how does it make you feel? There’s a lot of grey in this world. The ISA thinks that by creating more supers, their program will be a net benefit to humanity. Is that benefit of protection worth hurting someone else, though?”
“No,” Katie says, her gaze hardening.
Satisfied, you nod.
“To me, being a hero is finding lines you won’t cross and holding them down for people who can’t fight themselves. You and I have been gifted with power. You, by the ISA and me, by who knows what – it’s power, all the same. That’s not going to change, so all we can do is decide what to do next. I choose to fight,” you say firmly. “I’ll respect your decision to remain behind if that’s what you want. Really – I will. We don’t need another sacrifice, and only you know if you’re ready.”
“But how can I ever know that?” she asks, sounding distressed.
A fleeting smile crosses your lips. “I don’t think I can answer that for you,” you say. “It’s different for everyone. All I can say is… everyone’s afraid. That won’t ever disappear. Fear isn’t bad, though. Fear means you have something you’re afraid of losing. Something worth fighting for.”
After another long moment, Katie nods. “Thanks,” she says softly.
You wait another moment, unsure if she has more to say. In the strangest way, speaking to Katie has eased some of your own worries. You’ve been so consumed since you fought Ava over how realistic the future is. Truthfully, you can’t really know. All you can do is trust yourself and the people around you and make the best decisions you can.
“I’m going to go eat,” she says at last. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Nodding, you watch Katie turn around and leave.
She didn’t say if she’ll come tomorrow, and you don’t want to ask. You imagine she’ll need to think overnight. After everything she’s been through, you’d understand if she wants to sit this one out. You meant what you said about not needing another martyr.
Once she’s disappeared, you turn and walk down the hall. Halfway down, Seokjin opens a door on your right.
“Everything okay?” he asks as you enter.
Nodding, you kick off your shoes by the door. “Yeah.”
When you turn, you find your bag already present, stacked at the foot of the bed. Seokjin must have grabbed it when you weren’t looking. Scanning the rest of the room, you can’t help but smile.
Seokjin made a romantic dinner the best he could, with a citronella candle, pre-packaged sandwiches, and Blue Gatorade.
“My hero,” you sigh, clasping your hands over your heart.
Grandly, Seokjin pulls out a chair with a flourish. Seating yourself in it, you watch him open the Blue Gatorade to pour you a glass.
“Jimin would say to replenish electrolytes,” he says archly as he pours.
Hiding a smile, you watch him walk to the other side. Pulling out his own chair, Seokjin seats himself and fluffs a napkin.
“Jimin would say that?” you ask him, amused.
Seokjin nods. “Mhm. Better take the advice of the cute doctor.”
“Seokjin.” Stifling a laugh, you stand and walk to his side. Dropping into his lap, you lace your arms around his neck. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was only trying to make you jealous that day.”
“Oh?” Turning his head, his lips brush yours. “It worked,” Seokjin confesses, pulling away. “I was so jealous I could hardly see straight.”
“There was nothing to be jealous of,” you murmur. “You’re the only one I care about.”
Seokjin smiles in response, and you know he’s not actually mad. For the first time in your relationship, you feel one hundred percent confident in each other. You’re certain there will be times in the future when you won’t, but right now, you know you love each other and that’s more than enough.
“What did Katie want?” Seokjin interrupts your thoughts.
Slowly, you exhale, returned to reality.
“She panicked when we went to rescue Roa.”
“Ah.” His brow furrows. “Is she worried about freezing up again tomorrow?”
“She asked to stay behind.”
Seokjin seems surprised by this. “And you agreed?”
“I didn’t say that,” you counter. “I just… I said it’s her choice to make, and we’d support her either way. She’s scared of hurting someone,” you explain. “Which is understandable. I’m not sure that’s something that ever goes away.”
“But…” Seokjin adds, sensing there’s more.
“But,” you say, thoughtful. “I’m not sure I would want it to.” Your arms tighten around his neck. “I’m not sure a good person would want it to.”
Something warm and knowing enters his gaze.
“What?” you mumble, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Cheeks heating, you look away.
“Nothing.” Thumb pressed to your chin, Seokjin returns your face to his. “I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you. For however long.”
“Now, who’s the corny one,” you whisper before kissing him.
Giving up on talking, he kisses you back until you feel somewhat breathless. Lifting you easily, he bypasses the sandwiches and lays you on the bed. Covering your body with his, he resumes with his mouth where you two left off.
Later that night, you stop to eat but above all, you simply enjoy being together.
From tomorrow on, you know things won’t be so certain.
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“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Namjoon says the next morning.
Everyone is seated around the same table, supers and handlers spread out on either side. First, are you and Seokjin, seated close enough for your thighs to touch. Next are Yoongi and Jungkook, followed by Zephyr and on her other side, Siobhan. Taehyung stands beside Namjoon, Roa is seated on his other side, and at the other end of the table are Hoseok and Rowan.
Katie didn’t appear after breakfast, which you’re trying not to focus on.
“ISA is planning to demonstrate their control serum this morning at 10:00 AM,” Namjoon says, both hands on the table. “The original plan was for Yoongi and Seokjin to attend as themselves and find a way to let us in. Luckily, now we have Rowan.”
On the other side, Rowan nods.
“Now,” Namjoon continues, “Seokjin and Yoongi will attend the demonstration alone. The rest of us will infiltrate ISA’s facility disguised as a cleaning crew. Our goal is to find and destroy the control serum.”
“Sure.” Jungkook pauses. “And how will we do that?”
“Yoongi’s located the coordinates of where the serum is being held,” Namjoon explains. “We’ll infiltrate the facility, proceed to the storage room and destroy all existing containers. There are a few pain points with the mission, of course. First, Chameleon’s powers only hold within a fifty-foot radius, so we’ll need to remain in view at all times.”
Seokjin frowns. “Won’t that be hard?”
“At some point, ISA is going to realize they have an intruder.” Namjoon shrugs. “Our disguises will hopefully get us through the door, but they’re by no means foolproof. Which brings us to problem number two –”
“Problem number one was pretty big,” you mutter.
“Number two.” Namjoon continues as though you haven’t spoken. “The serum is designed to be used as an inhalant, so there’s a chance we could enter the facility only to come under the control of the drug itself.”
Roa stares. “What?”
“Luckily, I’ve devised a solution to this.” Reaching under the table, Namjoon pulls out a small, blue vial. “Yoongi managed to procure the serum’s formula, which I’ve been studying, and I believe I’ve concocted an antidote.”
Taehyung lets out a low whistle. “Wow, that was fast.”
Namjoon’s cheeks redden. “Knowledge absorption,” he says as he pockets the vial. “Not that impressive. So, we’ll each drink one of these vials before entering, and carry another just in case. This should provide us with relative immunity.”
“Should?” Jungkook frowns. “Relative?”
Namjoon pauses, then nods. “I’m as sure as I can be on this. Which brings us to the final problem. We don’t really know what’s waiting for us inside the facility. All the made supers could be under ISA control. The serum might be protected in a safe. We’ll need to stay alert, act fast and adapt quickly.”
“Not to mention this won’t solve the main problem,” you add, growing concerned. “We need to tell the public about Operation Made. How can we do that without the serum or made supers?”
Yoongi raises his hand.
Namjoon nods.
“I’ve got the solution for that,” Yoongi says, putting down his hand. “I’ve compiled a dossier with every detail I found on Operation Made. Program logistics, ‘testing’ logs, the full details of why they branded you and Jungkook as villains. It’s all been saved on the cloud and is ready to be made public – with the click of a button, of course.” Yoongi pauses. “Or, if I die.”
Stunned silence follows until finally, Seokjin blinks.
“You… built in a death trigger?”
“For both of us,” Yoongi says brightly. “If either of us dies, our watches will send an automatic signal to my computer, which will publish said dossier on the internet. It’s foolproof.”
Seokjin continues to stare, seeming less than thrilled by the idea of Yoongi planning for his death. There’s no time to argue this though since you all need to leave.
“Now.” Namjoon claps both hands together. “Everyone grab a cleaning uniform. These will be your disguises until we get inside. Listen for instructions through your earpieces. And – shit, we need to go.” Namjoon glances at his watch. “Read the documents I prepared in the vans!”
You nod in agreement. Turning, you see Jungkook strapping himself into his harness. Belatedly, you recognize he’s got a bulletproof vest on, as well. So far, you’d assumed he was attending for informational purposes but now, you realize he plans on coming.
“No,” you say, crossing the room. “Absolutely not, Jungkook.”
Mildly, he glances up from strapping a knife to his thigh holster.
“What?” Jungkook asks innocently.
“No.” Stopping before him, you cross your arms. “You are absolutely not coming. Or have you forgotten about the cracked ribs and concussion?”
Calmly, Jungkook glances over your shoulder. “I haven’t forgotten,” he says. “Have you forgotten we have Hoseok on our team?”
“I – oh,” you say, stupefied.
You had forgotten about Hoseok. Obviously, Jungkook went to him last night and asked Hoseok to heal him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” you say, recovering your wits. “Hoseok needs his full power for battle today, Jungkook. He –”
“I didn’t ask,” Jungkook cuts in. “He cornered me afterwards and offered to help. I’m not that selfish, Y/N, that I’d risk Hoseok’s health for the sake of my ego.”
For a moment, you pause. You know Jungkook is right, but you’d planned on him not being here today. No matter how capable Jungkook is, he’s still not a super. It’s always more of a risk for him than for you.
Before you can retort, Seokjin steps beside you. “They’re waiting in the car, Y/N,” he says, then glances at Jungkook. “Good to see you up and about, man.”
Curtly, Jungkook nods. “Thanks. Y/N,” he says, and walks past.
You let him go, still facing forward. Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Seokjin gently pulls you into his side and squeezes.
“Let’s go,” he murmurs. As you start to walk, he adds, “You can’t protect everyone, you know. Or – well, you could. You’d just probably lose them in a different way.”
Soft, you exhale. He’s right, and you hate it.
“When did you start being more reasonable than me,” you mutter.
Seokjin chuckles as you step outside, faced with two vehicles labeled GREEN CLEANERS. Jungkook has already entered the front one, which is driven by Rowan. Jimin will chauffer the second, as the least conspicuous member of your group.
Yoongi and Seokjin are the only two who won’t travel with you. Since ISA doesn’t suspect their involvement, they’ll still be attending the demonstration as themselves. You hate being parted again so soon, but you know this will be the last time. For better or worse, everything will be settled after today.
“It’ll be alright,” Seokjin says, reading your mind again.
Concealing a smile, you turn to face him. “And now telepathy?” you tease. “How many powers can one person have?”
Shaking his head, his arms wrap around your waist. “No.” Brilliant as always, he smiles down at you. “You’re just not as good at hiding things as you think you are.”
“Or maybe, you’re just good at reading me.”
Hands rising to your cheeks, he tilts your face upwards for a kiss. Leaning into him eagerly, your arms wrap around him. It’s difficult not to think about the fact that this could be the last time.
Even with everyone on your side, you’re still woefully outnumbered. There’s a high probability not all of you will walk away from this alive. This is a possibility you can’t let yourself linger on, though. If you did, you’d be paralyzed and unable to act.
You need to keep moving and so, you force a smile.
“Is there room for one more?”
The sound of Katie speaking behind you provides the distraction you need. Turning around, you see Katie exit the building. She’s dressed in a cleaning suit, the super suit Taehyung stole on underneath as, jaw set, she marches up to the vans.
“That is…” Trailing off, she glances your way. “If you still need me.”
“Of course, we do,” you say, stepping away from Seokjin. Gesturing at the van, you say, “Let’s go. Namjoon will probably give us a lecture if we’re late.”
“I heard that!” Namjoon calls from the other van.
Smiling gratefully, Katie ducks after Jungkook and leaves you alone with Seokjin. Hands wrapping around yours, he turns you again to face him.
“We’ll be fine,” he assures. “Promise. I didn’t fight this hard to get you back just to have you slip away.”
Nodding, you try not to cry as you squeeze your eyes shut. Memorizing the feel of his hands on yours, you take a deep breath before pulling away.
“Love you,” you manage to say before entering the van.
Seokjin nods, mouthing the words as you shut the door.
Rowan is your vehicle’s driver, leaving you seated on the passenger side. He’ll be able to change your appearance before reaching the facility. Buckling your seat belt, you watch Seokjin walk away.
He looks damn good in his super suit. Concentrating on this fact distracts you from the macabre thoughts pushing their way to your prefrontal cortex. You have no idea if you used the term right; mentally, you make a note to ask Namjoon.
Backing out of the warehouse, Rowan easily weaves into the city streets. Relaxing a little, you keep your head down in case there are cameras. When you reach the next light, Rowan reaches out to brush your arm.
Startled, you glance sideways.
“There,” he says, pulling back. “You’re now Diane Cleveland, custodial member of Green Cleaners, employed by ISA.”
Awed, you pull down the visor to examine your new reflection. Even prepared for the difference, the changes are startling. No longer does Y/N stare back at you – now, a blonde, middle-aged woman sits in your seat.
“Whoa,” you exhale.
Even your voice sounds scratchy and strange – a smoker’s voice, probably.
Rowan laughs, and when you glance his way, you do a double take. Gone is the amiable super from earlier and in his place sits a crochety old man with red, bushy eyebrows.
Meeting your gaze, he wriggles both brows. “Say hello to Gilligan O’Connor.”
From the backseat, Katie laughs.
Roa grins from the other seat, and even Jungkook shakes his head. They still wear their own faces – apparently, Rowan needs physical contact to work his power. He’ll need to change them sometime before your arrival, but in the meantime, it makes sense for Rowan to conserve his energy.
“Only your appearance will change,” Rowan explains as he drives. “You’ll still have your own superpowers. If I shifted into Hoseok’s body, I wouldn’t have his healing powers.”
Idly, you lift your left hand to examine. The back contains age spots, and you make another mental note to send Diane hand cream when all this is over. After a moment, you lower your/her hand.
This is your least favorite kind of mission. The kind where you’re forced to sit back and think before facing down evil. You much prefer to be called when danger is eminent, when there’s no time to consider what could go wrong.
Now, there’s nothing but time to imagine your fears.
Foolish people say bravery means never being scared, but you know better. Everyone is scared. Like you said to Seokjin earlier, being scared means you have something to lose. Bravery is feeling fear and doing the right thing regardless.
Exhaling lowly, you close your eyes. Platitudes are all good and fine, but they do nothing to quell your shaking legs.
The facility sits about an hour outside the city. By the time you pull up to titanium-tipped gates, your palms are slick with sweat. You’re able to feel the drain on your power as Rowan slows to a stop. Even without actually touching titanium, it’s enough to make you uncomfortable.
“This is it?” you say quietly.
“This is it.” Rowan nods.
A few yards from the gate, you twist to face the rest. Roa and Katie seem solemn, but ready – as ready as they’ll ever be. Meeting your gaze, Jungkook nods, and you know your words from earlier are forgotten. He’d do the same in your shoes.
Inside the city, ISA headquarters is built of steel and cement. Meant to blend into the backdrop of the city. This facility seems more like a country estate, with ivy wound around the titanium gate set before you.
Rolling down his window, Rowan approaches the guard house.
“HELLO?” he yells, sticking his head outside. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
With an exasperated sigh, the speaker crackles to life.
“We can hear you just fine, Gil,” someone says on the other end. “And for the last time – you don’t need to yell to be heard.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know how far these speaker boxes can hear?” Rowan says. “Seems like half the time they work, and half the time you just ignore me…”
“They work just fine, Gil. Are both the vans yours?”
“Alright. Be prepared to show identification at the second gate. Go on ahead.”
The speaker shuts off, followed by a loud beep as the gates slowly swing forward. Rowan waits until they’d wide enough to clear, and then inches forward. In the rearview mirror, you watch Jimin do the same.
Once you’re inside, the gates slowly close. Swallowing your worries, you turn to face forward. If you’re discovered now, getting past the gate will be the least of your worries. Winding his way down the hill, Rowan follows the signs until reaching the side entrance.
Inside the gates, the facility looks pristine. Your initial assessment of a country estate doesn’t seem too far off. Manicured lawns, a crystalline pond with golf carts driving by. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume this to be a country club, or an elite boarding school.
“The cells are kept in the basement,” Roa says quietly behind you. “That’s where the other made supers will be, if not in the demonstration.”
Sobering quickly, you remember the rot the immaculate surface hides.
Pulling into the side entrance, Rowan stops at the second gate. Faking a yawn, he leans over the console to brush Katie’s forearm. Instantly, Katie becomes a woman in her forties with pronounced buck teeth.
Another brush of his hand, and Roa transforms into a tiny, blonde girl with a high ponytail.
Katie clasps a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god,” she laughs, betraying a hint of an accent. “You look completely ridiculous.”
Glancing down at slim arms now gripping his seat rest, Roa looks up and glowers.
“Oh, come on,” he tells Rowan, who winks.
Slapping Jungkook on the thigh, Rowan transforms him into a portly man in his thirties, then twists around to open the door. Stepping outside, he stretches both arms overhead. Two security guards exit, crossing the road to face Rowan.
Lowering his arms, Rowan gestures towards the second van with an air of explanation. Apparently, the guards buy it because they let him leave as they approach your van.
In the rearview mirror, you see Jimin open his door, but then you’re distracted by the guard knocking on yours.
“Yes?” you say, rolling down your window.
Looking you up and down, the guard seems unimpressed. “ID?”
Silently, you hand over the licenses Rowan left on the console, waiting while the guard examines them all.
“You’re good.” He hands them back with little fanfare.
Rowan then appears, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car. “Thanks!” he calls, pulling forward. Behind you, Jimin’s van moves as well.
Entering the grey stone of the facility, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. No one calls out for you to stop, or comes running out, and you begin to wonder if you just might pull this off.
Parking inside, your group begins to unload, and you see Rowan’s disguises for the first time together. His power is truly remarkable – you wouldn’t know them as your friends if you hadn’t seen the transformation yourself. With the grey janitorial uniforms, the change is even more striking.
Namjoon has transformed into a round woman in her late twenties. Taehyung is at least six foot five, Hoseok has gigantic ears, and Zephyr and Siobhan look similar enough to be twins. Jimin still looks like himself, but he’ll be staying with the vans inside.
“Alright!” Rowan waves you on. “Today we’re starting on the twelfth floor. Let’s get going.”
Without further fanfare, you enter the building armed with mops, buckets, and cleaning products. Beneath your uniforms are your super suits but for now, you need to blend in as much as possible. You notice sweat on Rowan’s forehead as he walks, and marvel at his ability to hold so many disguises at once.
Namjoon gave everyone watches before leaving, equipped with trackers and your desired location. Right now, you’re on the ground floor, with the serum being held five floors beneath you. You’re supposed to be cleaning floor twelve, so the moment you deviate from said course, it’s only a matter of time before you’re discovered.
Turning left, you open the emergency stairwell and start to descend. You’re walking too fast to be casual, but time right now is of the essence. Based on your watch, the demonstration will be starting any minute, so you need to be in and out before it’s over.
Blue dots on your watch mark each member of your party, and white dashes below mark the way towards the serum. Red dots are foreign bodies, and right now there’s a red dot in the hallway up ahead.
Holding up a hand, you signal the others to wait. Tentatively, you poke your head around the corner.
The second you do so, a guard turns his head. “Hey,” he calls out as he straightens. “What are you doing down here?”
“Me?” Pretending to be confused, you enter the hall. “I was assigned to clean this corridor.”
Immediately, the guard’s brow lowers. This seems to have been the wrong thing to say.
“Let me just call my manager,” he says, reaching for his walkie-talkie. “I’ll check which hall you’re supposed to be in.”
Panic courses through you, realizing he’s calling for backup. It would seem your ruse has come to an end.
“Run!” you blurt, ripping off your uniform to reveal the suit underneath.
Thrusting out both palms, you freeze the guard in place. Behind you, the rest of your group fans out and runs. Glancing your watch, you follow the white lines ahead.
“Go – go!” you yell as they pass.
As they run, their appearance changes to normal. Taehyung shrinks a good half a foot, Roa gains back his muscle and Namjoon presses a button, scaled metal interlacing to form his super suit.
It still isn’t fast enough to negate the guard’s call. While you run, a second contingent of guards burst around the corner. Several have their guns out, firing bullets into your midst. Thrusting out a hand, you slow the bullets long enough for Katie to divert them with telekinesis.
While all this takes place, Namjoon gets his suit on. Teleporting past the guards, he pauses to look back.
“Roa! Taehyung – with me!”
Taehyung nods and runs towards him, some enhancement to his shoes making him twice as fast. Bending both knees, Roa pushes off with super-strength and joins their sprint. Alarm bells suddenly go off, making you whirl around.
Nearly in tandem, a second group of guards enter the hall. They’ve blocked off the exits, forcing you to stay and fight. Glancing down at your watch, you see Namjoon still moving. If you can keep the guards distracted, Namjoon will have enough time to reach the serum.
Grasping your power, you slow time and side-step a guard who sprints past. Behind you, Zephyr blasts this man into a wall. Yanking out his Glock, Jungkook takes down two guards with his carefully placed bullets. Skidding to a stop, he deeply inhales and shoots you a wild grin.
Shaking your head, you leap into action and kick another guard. Freezing the next, you hold them in place long enough for Hoseok to knock them out. It’s almost too easy; a group of superheroes fighting mere humans – or so think, until Hypnosis turns the corner.
Eyes glowing red, she sports a bionic hand in place of the one you destroyed. Before you can react, Rowan lets out a growl and shifts at your side. Taking the form of a gigantic wolf, he leaps forward to pin Ava to the ground.
Her bionic hand shoots him off with a howl – until Katie teleports behind her, slamming her knee into Ava’s head.
Swaying on her feet, Ava staggers. You have no time to celebrate before Nighthawk swoops in.
“Shit,” you mutter.
Instantly, the hallway plunges into darkness. Freezing time around you, you run until you break from the shadows. Holding the hallway is tiresome, so the instant you’re free, you whip out your taser and aim for Liam’s neck.
Releasing your power, you hear him swear. Darkness vanishes and Zephyr swoops down, both hands outstretched to cut off Nighthawk’s air. Scrambling out of the way, you let Zephyr do her thing with the air vacuum.
A metal disc whizzes by, barely missing your head.
Sucking in a breath, you whirl around to spot an unknown super at the end of the hall. The girl is tall, with blonde hair, and seems to be around the same age as Katie and Roa.
Skidding to a stop at your side, Katie looks surprised.
“Leah?” she says.
You realize the truth before Katie, and break into a sprint before Leah can turn. Locking eyes with Katie, Leah robotically draws back her hand and lets another disc fly.
Katie’s eyes widen, but Rowan appears out of nowhere, tackling her to the ground.
The metal disc slams into the wall behind her, a spiderweb of cracks branching out from the spot. Before Leah can throw anything else, you reach Katie’s side and yank her up.
“Come on!” you yell, pulling her forward.
“I – I don’t understand,” Katie gasps, looking back.
“Serum.” Siobhan joins your run. Blood trickles from a cut on her head and, without looking, she points her gun to fire, taking down another guard. “There are made supers down this hall and the next, all of them fighting under the control serum.”
A shiver of realization spreads down your spine.
You’re too late – the made supers are already under ISA control. To succeed, you’ll need to fight them all. Supers with god knows how many powers, or at what strength. Supers who can’t be stopped by titanium and who are chemically ordered to fight you to death.
Before you can respond, a guy with red hair sprints around the corner. Hoseok skids into view, absorbing the first hit to retaliate, stabbing the guy in his thigh. In response, the earth below you trembles.
“Shit.” Panicked, Katie glances upwards. “That’s Ivan. He’s an earthshaker.”
All your mental thoughts are some degree of fuck. Grabbing Katie by the arm, you force her to run in the opposite direction.
By now, Ava has managed to haul herself to her feet. Pushing Katie behind you, you turn around mid-stride to face Ava. Avoiding her gaze, you freeze her arm in place – and grab it as you run past, to twist.
Ava screams. Seething, she thrusts out her other hand and her missile narrowly misses, as Zephyr’s wind blows you backwards.
“Thanks, Zephyr!” you yell, digging in your heels to stop.
Zephyr nods her acknowledgement. High above, she remains locked in battle with Nighthawk. Jungkook and Katie have teamed up against Leah and another super, while Hoseok has managed to apprehend Ivan.
Frantic, you glance back at Ava and unthinkingly, her eyes lock on yours. Immediately, a sense of peacefulness sweeps through you.
Suddenly you can’t remember why you were fighting. The hallway around you seems large and confusing. Someone yells out your name, too loud from behind.
You don’t like people being so loud. It’s tiresome, and you’re tired. Things would be so much easier if you just went to sleep. Maybe you could with the help of one of those silver bullets. All you need is to fight Jungkook – he seems to be yelling at you, which is odd – grab his gun, and –
Teleporting behind Ava, Katie catches the titanium cuff thrown by Jungkook, and encircles Ava’s wrists with superspeed.
Abruptly, Ava’s power of hypnosis is cut off.
Like a puppet with its strings cut, your knees hit the floor. Gasping in air, you gag, nearly retching on the floor. Jungkook’s gun remains firmly clasped in your hand. Seeing this, you tremblingly realize Ava almost made you kill yourself.
“Y/N!” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze.
Glancing up, you find Jungkook cuffing Nighthawk as well. Zephyr must have managed to defeat him. Dully, you register the rest of them are fighting made supers.
“Y/N – go!” he yells. “Make sure Namjoon destroys the serum. We’ll handle this.”
More supers pour into the hallway, making your stomach sink. Jungkook is right. Titanium will only work on the normal supers. The made supers, the ones controlled by the serum, will only stop once you knock them out – or worse.
Grimly, you nod as you force yourself to rise.
Jungkook’s gun clatters as you run, dodging a metal disk, and rounding the corner. Glancing down at your watch, you see Namjoon’s dot ahead and realize he’s also surrounded. Skidding to a stop, you watch as the red dots converge, keeping him, Taehyung and Roa from reaching the serum.
You’re doomed.
With a sinking heart, you realize the situation’s hopelessness.
Even if you manage to destroy the serum, ISA has so many made supers under their control. There’s no way you’ll make it off the premises alive – unless.
An idea forming, you zoom out until you see the floor plan. Scanning the facility, you find what you’re looking for on the next floor. Immediately, you turn and sprint towards the nearest staircase.
Shoving the door open, you dash up the stairs and emerge in a blank hall. Freezing a surprised guard, you knock him out and continue to run. The room you want is in twenty feet… now fifteen… now ten… you skid to a stop at the door.
Throwing it open, you feel your power fizzle. Barely do you register titanium walls before you’re shoved in, and the door is slammed shut behind you. Power strips flicker to light below, illuminating the air control room around you.
A red tank has been hooked up to the AC system. Each second pumps control serum into the air to be inhaled by the supers from Operation Made. All you need to do is dump Namjoon’s antidote into the tank, and every made super will be released from control.
Except – you’re not alone in the room.
Recognizing the person between you and the oxygen tanks, your heart sinks.
“Seokjin,” you breathe.
He kneels, arms bound behind his back on the floor. When you enter, he lurches towards you, but his cuffs hold him back. Blood trickles from a cut above his right eye, his dark bruises visible even from here.
“Y/N,” he breathes, squinting with his swollen eye. “Run.”
You refuse to move. There’s no way in hell you’re leaving him like this. Dimly, you realize Yoongi has been caught as well. He lies, unconscious and bound, on the floor behind Seokjin.
A soft chuckle comes from behind.
Whirling around, you reach for your power and find – nothing. Titanium weighs upon you from every angle. Its presence is suffocating, making your head throb and pound.
Between you and the door stands the Head Agent, the barrel of his gun trained on your heart. In your peripheral, you see two more agents step from the shadows. Their guns remain fixed on Seokjin, helpless without the aid of his powers.
The Head Agent looks the same as the last time you saw him. Barely older than yourself, he walks across the room in an immaculate suit.
“That won’t work here,” he says, observing your raised hands. “Titanium walls. Cost a fortune to put in. Pity they don’t work on the made supers, but we’ve found a way around that.”
Keeping his gun steady, the Head Agent comes to a stop.
“Potent stuff, this serum,” he muses. “It allows someone else to make a decision, only to then interject and send a new command to their body. You’d think you were about to do one thing, only to find yourself doing something completely different.”
All around, the gentle woosh of the AC continues, uninterrupted. Each passing second circulates new serum through the vents. Desperate for a way out, you scan your surroundings but find nothing useful.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the Head Agent comments.
“Do what?”
“If you try and free him” – He removes his safety – “one of my friends, here will have to shoot him. I image without his superpowers WWH will bleed out fairly quickly.”
Immediately, you see red, but you refuse to react. Not with Seokjin’s life on the line.
“What do you want,” you grind out.
The Head Agent smiles. “To talk, that’s all.”
A bitter laugh leaves your throat. “I think our time for talking went out the window the second you called me a villain.”
He makes a soft, tutting noise. “Not so. You, of all people, should understand the lure of a good comeback story. It’d be so easy for ISA to clear your name. We could say someone framed you – Ava, perhaps. I know you two have a history.”
“You’d… betray Ava like that?”
“Ava does as she’s told,” he says simply. “Which can be useful, but not as useful as someone like you. With you on our side, the program could be unstoppable.”
“Oh, please,” you snap. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe you’d take me back. I’m not stupid, and neither are you.”
His lips twist in a smile, as though you’ve given him exactly what he needs. “Suit yourself.” With a snap of his fingers, screens come to life. “But whether you choose to join us by force or coercion, that’s up to you.”
Mouth going dry, you stare at the screens. Livestreams of what’s happening right now in the building stare back at you. In the hallway you left, more made supers have joined. Zephyr, Rowan, Hoseok, Katie, Jungkook and Siobhan continue to fight, but find themselves outnumbered.
The next ones are worse. Namjoon, Roa and Taehyung face similar odds. Roa tries again and again to use his telepathy, but to no avail. Taehyung is limping, bleeding from a side wound while Namjoon uses everything in his arsenal to keep them both safe.
They never made it to the room with the serum, you realize.
It’s just you and your antidote against ISA. If you fail, it’s highly unlikely anyone else from your party will succeed.
“Ah, yes.” Sweetly, the Head Agent smiles. “You’ve realized the truth of things, it seems. Either you die, or you save your friends. I agree to call off the made supers if you agree to my terms.”
Frantic, you search again for an exit and find no way out. As though sensing your intentions, Seokjin stirs on the floor.
“Y/N,” he says, spitting out his gag. “Don’t –”
Wordless, the Head Agent crooks a finger. A shot echoes throughout the room. Before you can react, Seokjin collapses to the floor with a grunt. Blood trickles from a new bullet wound in his upper thigh.
The world around you slows, narrowing to the point of Seokjin on the floor. When the Head Agent lifts his hand again, you panic.
“Wait!” you blurt. “Don’t – don’t do it!”
He freezes.
“Yes?” The Head Agent’s eyes glitter.
“Don’t shoot him,” you whisper, struggling to breathe.
Silence falls, broken only by Seokjin’s labored breathes to the side. It seems he’s in too much pain right now to speak.
“A rather ingenious move on your part,” the Head Agent comments. “Pretending to be broken up and having your boyfriend infiltrate our ranks.”
“How… how did you know,” you ask, stalling for time.
If only you had your powers, stopping a few agents would be nothing. With more time, you could figure this out, but time is the one thing you don’t have.
“We saw you enter the facility,” the Head Agent says. “One of our made supers is clairvoyant. Chameleon’s tricks don’t work on her. She noticed you on the camera right away, so we put off the demonstration. Seokjin and Yoongi were sneaking away to warn you when they ran into our agents.” His face hardens. “I thought they’d prove persuasive, should you fail to see reason.”
“Don’t do it,” Seokjin croaks, struggling to sit up again. More blood gushes from the wound in his leg. “Y/N – don’t listen to him. Save the rest.”
Tears blur your eyes, looking at him.
You know exactly what Seokjin is saying. Save the rest. If he dies, it will initiate the kill trigger Yoongi put in place. Seokjin’s death means Yoongi’s dossier will be automatically released to the internet. If he dies, the world will find out about Operation Made and ISA will be destroyed.
He’s trying to be the hero again, and you hate it. If you refuse to do what the Head Agent says, he’ll kill Seokjin – plain and simple. You’ll accomplish what you came here to do, which is free the made supers and expose the program.
Seokjin will die though, and you can’t accept that as reality.
“What do you want?” you demand, pushing against the effects of titanium.
“Convince your friends to stand down.” His ring finger caresses the trigger. “Rejoin the ISA. You’ll need to take the serum,” he adds, as though this should be obvious. “Can’t have you saying something you shouldn’t.”
His words paint a dismal image. Stomach sinking, you imagine a future where you’re forced to serve ISA, only fighting the villains they deem worthy. You never asked yourself before how they decided such things; what their magic formula was to determine good and evil.
It doesn’t do you any good to question things now, though. If you end up taking the serum, you’ll have no choice in the matter.
“Well?” the Head Agent asks. “Do we have a deal?”
Closing your eyes, you steel yourself.
“Fine,” you hear yourself say, barely audible. “I’ll do it.”
“Y/N – no!”
“Seokjin, I have to,” you say, keeping your eyes shut. “He’ll kill you if I don’t.”
“Then let me die!” Seokjin shouts. “It’s better than the alternative!”
Unable to stomach his words, you refuse to meet his gaze. If you look at him, you won’t be able to go through with your plan.
“Good.” Lowering his gun, the Head Agent walks closer. “First things first, I’ll need to give you the serum – injection, this time. Can’t risk you going back to join your friends.”
Chin jerking in a nod, you obediently hold out an arm.
At your side, Seokjin continues to protest and your gaze flicks to him. Even broken and bloodied, you’re glad he’s here. If nothing else, at least you get to see him one last time. You give him a weary smile, and he seems to still.
Pulling a syringe from his pocket, the Head Agent flicks its top in a way you’re sure isn’t considered best practice. When he grabs for your wrist, you make your move.
Even without your superpowers, you’re a formidable opponent. You haven’t trained with Jungkook for years without learning how to defend yourself. Preparing the needle leaves the Head Agent’s gun hanging, limp at his side.
Lunging forward, you strike his wrist to send the gun flying. Catching this easily, you whirl and backhand him across the face. From behind you, a shot rings out. Not daring to look and see who was shot, you kick the Head Agent in his chest and send him to the floor.
Another shot echoes in the room, metal grazing your arm and making you hiss. In retaliation, you whirl and fire, dropping another agent.
The door bursts open behind you.
“Y/N!” Taehyung yells, gun out and cocked. “Move!”
Coming to your senses, you run. Skidding to a stop at the air filtration system, you examine the setup. The red tank has been hooked up to the main body, pumping serum through the facility air. Namjoon’s antidote seems to be working on you, judging by the fact you haven’t been controlled yet.
Fumbling with your clothes, you pull out the serum and yank off the top. Not stopping to think, you dump it in the red tank. For a second, nothing happens and then – the liquid begins to change colors. Exhaling, you hope this was enough and turn around.
Namjoon blasted their way in and now, he and Roa are securing the room against the made supers. The Head Agent still lies unconscious on the floor, while Seokjin – Seokjin has collapsed.
You aren’t sure how you reach him; all you know is you do. You’re only able to see Seokjin, blood pooling before him on the black tile.
Slipping a little, you collapse at his side. “Seokjin,” you say, grasping his shoulders. “Seokjin, can you hear me?”
His eyes flutter and you’re relieved, but then you notice how pale he is.
Cupping his cheeks with both hands, you scan his face. Lips pressed tightly together, Seokjin stares both at and through you. Dully, you realize there’s too much blood. Blood underneath him, blood under you – far too much to be from just his leg wound.
Glancing lower, you see the bullet wound in his chest.
“Hoseok!” you yell, fear seizing your throat. “Someone, get Hoseok!”
No one responds and, fingers trembling, you tear off a strip off your shirt. Balling this up, you press this tautly to his wound. Seokjin hisses, coughing on fluid as he jerks upwards.
“Y/N,” he rasps, focusing on you. “It’s okay.”
Fighting back tears, you shake your head.
“It is,” he insists. “You did the right thing.”
“How can this be the right thing,” you manage to say, voice breaking. “The right thing is us being together. How can it be right if –”
“I love you,” he says, sounding firm. His eyes flutter. “You did the right thing.”
Seokjin swallows, working around the lump in his throat. Another spasm grips his body and sharply, you inhale as his head hits the ground. His eyes roll back.
“It’s working!” Taehyung yells out in the background.
Dimly, you’re aware of shapes moving around you. Titanium continues to dull your sense though, and you dimly wonder if you should leave. Seokjin is here, though, and he’s still breathing, so like hell are you going to be parted from his side.
Zephyr drops to her knees before you. “Y/N,” she says. “You did it. It’s working. The made supers are free.”
Body shaking, you’re barely able to comprehend what she says. Following your gaze, Zephyr freezes at Seokjin. Swearing abruptly, she pushes herself to her feet.
“Hoseok!” she calls and runs out.
All that keeps you going is the desperate thread of hope Hoseok can somehow fix this. Seokjin’s breathing is shallow, faint specks of blood on his lips with every cough. His eyes are mostly shut, unable to focus on you any longer.
Dashing into the room, Jungkook spots you and runs closer. Things seem to blur at this point, a jumble of voices as you clutch Seokjin tighter. Gentle hands close over yours, pulling you back to lift you to your feet.
Suddenly, you’re frantic, pushing against them, shoving your way back to Seokjin.
“Y/N.” Jungkook speaks calmly in your ear. “We need to move Seokjin. Hoseok can’t heal him with the titanium in here.”
All the fight drains from your body and you sag against him.
Seokjin is moved and dimly, you recall Jimin telling you significant others aren’t allowed the operating room. A hysterical laugh bursts from your lips, but Jungkook says nothing, one arm wrapped around you.
Waiting is impossible. After what feels like eternity, you can’t take it any longer and break free. Jungkook calls your name, but you’re already gone, shoving into the hall. There, you pause, scanning the hallway to find Hoseok kneeling over Seokjin.
Power surges in your veins, and you aren’t sure if you speed time up, or it slows down as you run to his side.
“Is he…” you breathe, dropping beside Hoseok.
Hoseok glances at you, looking exhausted. “He’ll live,” he says simply.
Unable to do so before, you chance a look at Seokjin. Gently, his chest rises and falls, and you’ve never seen such a beautiful sight. Collapsing forward, you grasp Seokjin’s hand and pull it to your lips.
“He’ll need a lot of rest,” Hoseok warns, his words already fading. “Jimin should look at him – I’m not sure if I got all the internal injuries. But…”
When Seokjin opens his eyes, you use the last of your power to freeze things around you. Some color has already returned to his cheeks and the wound on his forehead is completely healed. 
Squeezing his hand, you manage to smile. “Hi.”
Dazed, Seokjin stares. “Hey.”
Leaning forward, you kiss him, trembling and soft. Cupping your head with one hand, Seokjin pulls you closer and for a moment, everything feels right in the world.
“You’re alive,” you whisper, pulling away.
“Yeah. And… looking damn good, all things considered.”
Tears blurt your eyes, but you manage to laugh. “Always are.”
The mirth disappears from his gaze. Lifting one arm, Seokjin pulls you closer. Holding you tightly, he buries his face in your shoulder. You stay like that until your power runs out and the world resumes around you.
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“Next question.”
Namjoon wears his polite, no-nonsense smile which has become a familiar sight. Once you defeated ISA and exposed Operation Made, public condemnation was swift and strong. Multiple nations pulled their support from the super program to the point where nearly all agents and handlers were fired.
Namjoon was appointed head of ISA. It was a role he balked at, but eventually accepted because there was no one else. Privately, you feel he was made for the role. Most people who actively seek power shouldn’t have it. Namjoon simply wants to do the right thing.
Since then, the weeks have been a blur of late nights, working sessions and a complete overhaul of the system. Every made super was freed when you stormed ISA, but the details which followed have been more difficult to hammer down.
Hence the weekly press calls Namjoon insists you hold.
“Hello. Dana Siphon, the City Herald.” A tall woman with blunt bangs stands near the entrance. “Our readers want to know when you’re opening the Academy again.”
Namjoon nods at the question, although you suppress a scowl. After overturning the world authority on superheroes, you’ve had more pressing matters to address.
You suppose this is why Namjoon is in charge at these conferences, and not you.
“Thank you for your question,” he says, sounding like he means it. “Our goal is to open the Academy as soon as possible, but to do so, we’ll need experienced trainers. Newly appointed head of the Academy, Jeon Jungkook, is hard at work on this task.”
At the other end of the table, Jungkook inclines his head.
His position as head of the Academy is temporary, but one of unanimous agreement. Personally, you’ve decided to step back from the superhero business. It’s time to discover more about Y/N, the person and not Minutia, the super.
Until, of course, the world needs you again.
“Next question,” says Namjoon, a bit firmer.
A man stands from his chair. “Rumor has it there’s been pressure from various foreign powers to absorb the ISA into their national programs. Care to comment?”
Namjoon pauses and, after a moment, folds his hands on the table. Although you’ve taken a step back from saving the world, you did accept Namjoon’s offer to join his council of advisors. The council is comprised of yourself, Seokjin, Hoseok and a few others. Katie represents all made supers and has developed quite a following in the outside world.
It’s almost enough to make Roa jealous. Almost.
One of your most recent concerns is exactly what the reporter asks. Long before Operation Made began, other governments have tried – and failed – to create their own supers. Recent reports suggest several of them are close though, a fact your council finds extremely concerning.
“ISA will remain independent of foreign influence,” Namjoon states. “We will continue to cooperate with other powers when necessary, of course, but it’s essential our superheroes remain unbiased in order to support the world’s population.”
“Unbiased according to you,” the reporter states before sitting.
A ripple of unease travels the room. Although somewhat petty, the reporter isn’t wrong. The only reason you’re holding these press conferences is because the entity before you made terrible decisions. Decisions which broke public trust in ISA.
Namjoon doesn’t falter. “True,” he allows. “We each have our own individual biases, but ISA needs to start somewhere. As always, we’ll continue to seek input from our stakeholders and adjust our model as we go along. Next question.”
“My question has to do with Operation Made.” This comes from a reporter near the back. “Lately, there’s been criticism that the disbandment of the program was too hasty. Our adversaries continue to grow stronger while we remain stagnant. Crime has been on the rise, and Operation Made could offer us an advantage.”
The reporter pauses, allowing this to sink in.
Seokjin leans forward. “Do you have a question?”
Ducking your head, you hide a smile. If you’ve become more cautious through this experience, Seokjin has become the opposite. Staring the reporter down, he refuses to blink and eventually, the reporter is forced to look away.
Not that you blame him. Having been on the receiving end of that stare, it’s nothing to laugh at.
“Uh, yes.” The reporter coughs. “What are your plans for ISA moving forward?”
Before Namjoon can speak, you turn on your mic.
“I’ll take this one,” you say.
Namjoon nods and sits back.
Every eye in the ballroom moves to you, close to one hundred reporters gathered in one space. Not too long ago, the sight would have paralyzed you but now, you know there are worse things than public speaking. Kind of.
Beneath the table, Seokjin takes your hand.
“Part of the briefing materials you received includes a full report on the future of ISA,’” you say, focusing on the reporter. “But those are just words, I know. Your trust in this agency has been broken, and rightly so. All we can do is work to rebuild that trust, step by step. You ask how we’ll stay ahead of our adversaries? We’ll do it because we must, and because we’re the only ones who can. What we won’t do,” you say, your expression hardening, “is protect some people at the cost of others. We’ll work to rebuild ISA, and hope that one day, you’ll be proud to call us your protectors. Until then, we’ll keep trying.”
A lone person claps at the back of the room – probably Jimin, or maybe Yugyeom – as you sit back in your chair. Namjoon smiles proudly, turning to face the crowd.
“And with that,” he says. “This press conference is adjourned. Feel free to join us next week for more questions – coffee and pastries are served in the adjourning room.”
The room breaks, dissolving into easy conversation as reports stand to stretch their legs. Despite the questions, the atmosphere is different than what it was at ISA. Namjoon’s changes have been subtle, but solid. You’re certain that eventually, he’ll put things right.
“You ready to go?”
Turning around, you find Seokjin waiting and smile.
Gathering your papers, you nod and follow him out. Exiting through the back, you wave goodbye to Jungkook, who chats at the water with Zephyr. With supreme effort, you suppress your need to comment. Jungkook and Zephyr have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, although Jungkook insists things between them are only business.
Exiting the facility, you squint in sunlight. Pulling out sunglasses, you slide them on and find Seokjin waiting with open arms.
“Hell no,” you say, automatic.
“Come on,” Seokjin laughs, glancing up at the sky. “Flying is the fastest way, Y/N! Do you really want to sit through traffic again?”
You attempt to walk past. “Yes. That’d be far preferrable to the last time we flew, and you decided to do loop-the-loops.”
Grabbing you by the wrist, Seokjin pulls you closer. Swallowing your protest, you glance up and forget your train of thought. Soft, dark hair falls across his forehead, making your stomach do funny flips.
Trying to keep your voice steady, you tilt your chin up. “Yes?”
Seokjin smirks. “Fly with me,” he says in a low, velvet voice which caresses your spine. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
His words, coupled with that tone of voice, make you shiver. Utterly helpless against such devious tactics, you reluctantly nod.
“Fine,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist. “But you owe me.”
Laughing softly, he presses a kiss to your hair.
“Always,” Seokjin says, and shoots into the sky.
And like that, the whole world at your feet, he flies you into the sunset.
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Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)
© kpopfanfictrash, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.
589 notes · View notes
koosbabygrl · 5 months ago
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↠ summary: lured in by the sights and sounds of the most famous circus in town, events take a strange turn once you become part of the show.
↠ pairing: seokjin x reader
↠ genre: explicit, smut, DARK yandere
↠ warnings: non-con sexual intercourse, kidnapping, manipulation, drugging, bondage, sadistic jin, tickling kink, subtle urophilia, agalmatophilia, perversion, vomit, explicit sexual content, choking, unprotected sex, disassociation, DARK YANDERE, use of needle/drugs, controlling jin, non-con use of sex toy, non-con touching, non-con roleplay, obsessive jin, physical fight, mentions of trauma and mental health struggles. 
↠ words: 10.2 k
author’s note : this fic is very dark and disturbing. if you don’t read the warnings and don’t understand what half the warnings mean, then don’t read it. 18 plus readers ONLY
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The air smelled of stale popcorn, the sights and sounds bringing back a nostalgia you vaguely recollect from when you were younger. You can’t think back on the last time you went to such an event, as deluded as it was. Everything was designed to draw you in, trick you, manipulate and deceive you--yet the ambience of the grounds still drew people in. The main event was up ahead and you felt silly getting excited over something you’ve seen countless times through personal experience and television. As juvenile as it was, you couldn’t help but turn back to your friend with an excited smile.
“So they say this ringmaster is hot. He can be my ringmaster any day,” she comments smugly.
“Oh, shut up!” you tease, smacking your coworker on the arm. She made the offer to bring you to the circus after having received free tickets from a raffle she won at work. “We are here to see the ‘freak show’, not make eyes at the ringmaster.”
“Whatever. You know there is no such thing as a ‘freak’ anyway. Most of these people wear makeup and prosthetics to make them look unique. If you ask me, it’s quite offensive.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s just funny how I get so excited just from the lights and the music. Does that make me weird?”
Your friend simply smiles and shoves you lightly into the tent. There were more people present than you expected and finding a seat was proving to be a problem. By some miraculous chance you spot exactly two seats right near the front row.
“Look, there’s some. Let’s hurry.”
Finally sitting, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings. Children and adults alike are eagerly waiting, the brilliant joy on their faces making you feel less like an oddball. It made sense to feel this way. Though not many people enjoyed the circus, something about the whole style of it incited curiosity. Before you could remove your jacket, the lights began to dim and the music faded. The spotlights dangling from the tent began their infamous swirling as the drums announcing the introduction of the ringmaster began their furious beat. With a sharp tug, the curtains on the left side of the ring opened swiftly, revealing a brightly colored podium with nothing but a black top hat neatly set on top of it.
The audience gasps when the main director is nowhere to be seen, joined by the floodlights that chaotically search around revealing nothing but an empty ring. “That wasn’t expected,” mocks your coworker, but you were way too caught up in the search wondering where the man of the hour had disappeared to.
“Stop ruining this. You’re such a party pooper.”
As your skeptical friend chuckles, your eyes return to the darkness surrounding the stage doing your best to adjust from the bright lights that rove around. And then, without a warning, a soft brush over the shell of your ear makes you turn in suspense.
“Shhh,” comes the sound over the mic, the owner of it still unknown. The audience stills and listens, already intoxicated by the entire show. “If you look a little closer, you’ll see I’m...right...over…here,” As he harshly whispers his last word, you jolt in response, totally confused and unsure about what was happening. Within seconds, the voice near you disappears leaving you a quivering mess.
“What the hell was…”
A sudden click of the lights brings darkness over the ring once again and for a few seconds all that could be heard were the whispers of wonder from the crowd. Then suddenly every single light comes back on revealing the entire ring floor and the mysterious master everyone was looking for.
“Come one! Come all to the greatest, most unique, highly coveted and amazing grand circus you’ll ever see. My name is Jin and I’ll be your ringmaster this evening.”
With a bow, he hops off his podium and swings back behind the curtains effectively triggering the next event to follow.
You watched him the entire night wondering how he managed to get so close to you without you even realizing. He was obviously very good at his job, and from the looks of it, your friend wasn’t lying about his attractiveness. The way he carried himself as he introduced each show, light on his feet, broad shoulders and a smile that could swoon the strongest heart, was quite astounding. You were a bit embarrassed to admit it, but you wouldn’t mind him cracking his whip over your…
“Earth to, y/n. Did you hear anything I said?”
“I told you he was hot. I’ll be back, just gonna grab a drink. Want anything?”
“No thank you.”
As soon as she walks off, you continue to focus on the man commanding the stage. He had an amazingly gorgeous purple jacket that shimmered in the light. It was obvious that every bead and stone sewn into it was done with great care. His black high boots compliment his long legs that are covered by black tights leaving nothing to the imagination. You wonder if maybe he was wearing a cup, the size definitely above average, but this certainly wasn’t a sports game.
Somewhere along the line he exchanges the whip in favor of a cane, and once again your mind begins to wander into dangerous territory. The show was amazing to say the least and when it was all set and done, you were a little disappointed. Not wanting to end the night just yet, you find yourself staying behind as the crowd begins to leave.
“Hey, you coming? The bus should be here in twenty minutes.”
“No, you go ahead. I’m just gonna sit here for a minute and take it all in.”
“Oh really? You’ve got money for a cab? You’re a big baller now?”
She was being silly you knew, but it wasn’t a lie. You both chose to take the bus since you didn’t want to park downtown where everyone and their mother would be. Not to mention the ridiculous prices for parking in one of the event lots. As for the money, you weren’t exactly making what you were hoping, and still recovering from paying your mother’s medical expenses, you were trying to be as conservative as possible. Tonight, however, you needed a moment for yourself, and a few extra bucks wasn’t going to matter in the long run.
“Very funny. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. You go on. I’m not looking forward to going over my report tonight, so let me have this.” You gesture a plea and she gives in easily.
“Yeah, yeah. Just watch your back. They might just recruit you to be a part of the freak show.”
“Ha, ha...very funny.” You mock her and wave your hand dismissively. She walks off leaving you alone, the sudden silence filling the room making you feel uncomfortable. It took you a few minutes, but you managed to stand up with a sigh. It was time for you to go. Hoping to catch the fried dough stand before it closes, you pick up your pace a little, your exit just a few feet away.
“Leaving so soon?”
A familiar voice stops you, though now it was less amplified without the microphone. You turn hoping to catch him this time, happy that you were quicker than before.
“Yeah. I’m not exactly a part of the show, though, I think I might fit in with the clowns.”
“Cute and witty. I was right.”
His compliment successfully catches your attention. “You were right?”
“Yes. When I saw you earlier tonight I knew you were unique...special.”
If it were any other man talking to you this way you would have turned and walked away, but the glimmer in his eyes and his flirting tone intrigue you. His looks were also quite captivating. Up close like this, you could see his pretty lips and perfect face. He had broader shoulders than what you remember, but the padding in his jacket made him look even wider.
“Ha, thanks. I’m hardly special. I really enjoyed your show tonight. If anything was special, it was that. I’d forgotten how much I love being captured by the wonder of it all.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’ve dedicated much time to perfecting it all. I’m very particular about how things should look and sound. It’s a hobby.”
“Well, I admire it. Anyway, I should get going if I’m going to finish looking over my report. Once again, thank you.”
You stand still as Jin walks forward and stands before you. He eyes you quietly and then removes his jacket carefully placing it down on one of the seats. “Please don’t go. I rarely get to speak with one of my guests, and you are particularly beautiful if I do say so myself. Pardon my boldness but, would you like to come again tomorrow night? I can guarantee you the perfect seat with no distractions from the audience. Perhaps you could be part of the show?”
Never before had you been seduced by a man with such polite manners, and even less so, a man that was in charge of a circus. It was quite comical, but the look on his face meant he was very serious about his proposal. It was a strange way to ask someone on a date, but you felt flattered nonetheless. It’s not like you’ve been approached by a ringmaster before.
“Oh, wow. You really don’t have to. I mean...what would I even do? I’ve never done anything in front of an audience before.”
“You don’t have to do much of anything. You can sit in my private booth. It has plenty of curtains to conceal you and then when I call you out, you simply walk down the ramp over there and hold my top hat while I perform a magic trick.”
His explanation seemed easy enough and even though you felt nervous, it was a little hard to say no when he was smiling so beautifully at you.
“Yeah, sure--why not. This would certainly be a stress reliever. Okay, yeah. I’ll be here.”
The next night came quicker than you expected and not wanting to seem like a weirdo, you didn't mention to your coworker that you were going to go back to the very place you both mocked the day before. You didn’t want to admit it, but you felt shy, and knowing that the sexiest man you’ve ever seen was waiting for you made it even more difficult to control your excitement.
The crowd was already building, the atmosphere reminding you of the night before, except this time you would be a willing participant. A little bit confused about where exactly you should be going, your worries were quickly put to rest when a circus member came up to you.
“Hello, you must be our guest for tonight. Jin asked me to take you to his personal seating. Please follow me.”
As the member led you toward the location, you realized you hadn’t even told Jin your name the night before. You found it weird of him not to ask, but then again, the circumstances had been a little weird.
As soon as you arrive you know it. The tent is beautiful, ornately designed with pretty gems and rhinestones--satin ribbons that were colored completely different than what a circus would be. The curtains were thick and behind them you could vaguely hear Jin’s voice booming during the show. Apparently it already begun and you start to worry you may have arrived too late.
“Where do I go? What should I do?”
“Just enter here. Jin will do the rest.”
As vague as it sounded, you simply did as you were asked. Opening the curtains, you walk into a small room noticing the lovely chandelier hanging from the center, and the pink roses in vases on almost every surface. It was like a dreamland. Curious, you walk toward the curtain where you hear Jin’s voice the loudest. Though you want to take a longer look around the pretty space that surrounds you, the temptation to carefully pull back the fabric is too great. The first thing you see is the back of Jin’s form. You are drawn in by his voice and the way he commands the show. With a wave of his wrist, the lights go off and gasps are heard all around.
“Come to me, now.”
You know the command is for you, so you quickly make your way to him as best as you can. The only light guiding you were the tiny string lights on the floor. His hand finds you first and pulls you close enough for only you to hear his words.
“Take off your clothes and put this on.”
Your eyes open wide in shock and for a moment you weren’t sure if you’d heard him correctly. “Take off my clothes?”
“Yes, quickly now. The lights will be on shortly.”
Not wanting the entire whole of the audience to see you naked, and knowing that it was already dark so there was no possibility of him seeing you in your underwear, you do as he says. The fabric he hands you feels slightly heavy but soft. It was clearly a cloak of some kind. Wrapping it around your shoulders, you work to tie the ribbon at your neck, but the feel of a pair of hands at your waist is not something you were expecting.
“Hush. I’m just helping you be quicker. We have five seconds.”
You could feel his fingers buttoning the front with practiced skill, and just as the lights came on, you slid your arms out of the side openings and stood in awe when the audience came back into view. It was a strange feeling standing there, the shadows cast by the floodlights making it hard for you to distinguish their faces. You feet the vomit begin to build in your throat, but Jin’s hand comes to settle on your back, soft circular motions helping ease the sensation.
“Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Girls! Tonight I have a lovely assistant to help me with my next trick. Please help me welcome…”
He turns then to glance at you and you blank. What in the hell was he getting at? Suddenly it hits you. Your name...he needed your name. “Y/n, my name is y/n.”
“There you have it folks. Let’s give her a round of applause. Now, please pay close attention because I’m about to do what has never been attempted before. I will make this lovely lady disappear before your very eyes.”
You blink suddenly, panicking and unsure of what was taking place. He never told you about this part. He only mentioned a hat trick. What exactly were you supposed to do in front of all these people? You knew about magic tricks and how a lot of optical illusion was used, but you never practiced anything like this before. You swallow back your fears and try to go along with it. He was the greatest showman you’ve seen, so you simply put your trust in the fact that he knew what he was doing. His movements were hypnotizing, the audience’s attention drowning in the lights and sounds all around. You feel dizzy and it becomes hard to focus on anything he says. Your nerves are on edge and then without warning, a blanket of darkness surrounds you. Your feet lose stability, you feel yourself fall down and then land on a soft surface. What sounds like a trap door shuts above you and then there is silence. Without waiting, you remove the cloth sack that had somehow fallen on you and blow the hair out of your face.
Wherever you were, it was scary. There was barely any visual, just a low glow of light emitting from the corner. You crawl forward attempting to situate yourself and figure out where exactly you were, but metal bars are the first thing your fingers meet. It’s almost impossible to stand, so you hunch over walking the perimeter you were in realizing you were not in just any room. You were inside of a cage and it was no bigger than the size of a small bathroom. You can't make out much, so you use your hands as a guide to touch along every surface hoping that maybe there was a door you were supposed to exit from, but when you finally find it, a padlock prevents such a thing.
You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions or even panic because this must be part of the show and you were sure Jin or someone would come any minute to let you out. As you wait seated in the corner with your knees pulled up to your chest, the sounds above ring on and you can’t help getting more and more tired as you sit in the darkness waiting. It was the only thing you could do since you’d already convinced yourself that maybe they needed to end the show before they could come to you--they all had to be busy doing some part of the show, right?
It was way later, how long you weren’t sure, that a noise at the cage jolts you awake. “Hello! Oh thank God. I’ve been waiting for so lon--”
Jin was at the door, his presence looming due to the shadows that cast off his body and face. “Hey, you did so good, y/n. Your name is really pretty. Come.”
He gestures with his hand and for some reason you hesitate a little. This had all gotten to be a bit too much and you had a bone to pick with him for leaving you in that cage for so long. When you reach the door, he puts out his hand and you grab it even though your anger was starting to build by the obvious lack of remorse from him.
“Jin, I don’t appreciate what you did. You changed the whole show and didn’t even warn me. And left me alone in this cage for what seemed like hours. I want to go home.”
While you rant and walk ahead of Jin, you come to the realization that you don’t even know where you are going. This lower level is so dark and Jin’s presence behind you isn’t exactly comforting. He hasn’t said much and you start to feel incredibly uncomfortable by this whole situation.
“But you already are home.”
You didn’t get the chance to spin around and look at him. The next thing you knew you were struggling in his grip, a cloth over your mouth, and then darkness.
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With a dry mouth and sore neck, you rouse to consciousness slowly. As your body begins to awaken, you start to move around, unconsciously stretching your limbs, only to come to the realization that you can’t move your hands. “Wha--”
It doesn’t take long for you to realize you are tied down by your hands and feet. Your head is killing you and you feel like your throat is on fire, but none of that matters--you need to get out of wherever you are.
You begin to scream hoping that someone will hear you. Even though it hurts, you scream and scream, your tears suddenly making themselves present. In a moment of exhaustion, you bow your head to rest when the sound of a door opening sets your nerves on edge.
“My, my...what a loud, pretty mouth you have. I was hoping you’d make this easier. I didn’t use the needle this time. Your pretty skin is too precious to puncture, but I can see you’re not very grateful for my mercy.”
For a second you think you’re hallucinating. The words that are coming out of his mouth seem unreal, and if he weren’t standing right in front of you in his physical form, you would indeed believe you were dreaming. “What do you mean needle--w-what are you saying? What is this?”
“Hush, darling. You’re only going to make your headache worse and strain your throat. I rather like your voice. I was hoping to make you a talking doll, but with all this blabbing I’m sorta changing my mind. You wouldn’t want me to sew your lips together would you?”
That shut you right up. If there was ever a level of crazy in your opinion, Jin had surpassed it. Suddenly it all made sense, the robe, the blanket, the cage...this had all been planned. You instantly regret ever coming to the show and even thinking you could trust him. You can’t believe that he actually kidnapped you in front of an entire crowd and yet no one was the wiser.
“Good. See how good you are? I actually knew it the moment I saw you sitting up front at my show. I had to go see you right away. You did feel me, didn’t you? I was so close. God, you smelled like heaven. You have the perfect skin and hair...and when you smile...your teeth...ugh...I just love when I don’t have to do reconstruction on teeth. It’s always messier than it needs to be. OH! Before I forget, I have a dress for you.”
“What the fuck! Let me go...please...please let me go!” Whatever he was planning, you didn’t want to be a part of it. The more he spoke, the more you felt your skin crawl. You’ve only ever heard of fucked up shit like this in movies and to be honest you preferred to die instead of doing whatever the fuck it was he wanted to do.
“Hey...I asked you to be quiet.” He comes close when he speaks the word, the remaining rush of air coming from his lips blowing over your face. You want to gag, his nearness making you nauseous. You turn your head away not wanting to look at him- but you can’t keep from crying. This whole thing felt like some sort of twisted joke. Biting your lip, you nod in agreement and it was enough for him to move away from you.
“Good girl. You may want to know that I like to dress up my dolls. It’s my favorite hobby. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I will need to remove your bra and panties and that will cause me to see your...privates. That’s okay, right? I mean, I would never touch you unless you wanted. I always leave it up to my dolls. After all, I need you to be smiley and happy. It’s been a long while since I’ve found another to be mine. My last doll...well...she wasn’t very good to me. After all I did for her--she was so ungrateful. It doesn’t matter now. She’s not around anymore. You have all my attention. So...where should we start?”
He walks forward and you flinch. You couldn’t help it. It was futile to try and hide it knowing that you were already as good as dead. Your chest heaves with the cries you can’t subdue, and there was nothing you could do to stop him since your arms and legs were bound.
“I usually use a knife to start--it helps me get the clothes off faster, but I’ve been a little sloppy at times and ended up ruining my perfect baby’s skin. I’m going to use these scissors instead. You ready?”
As he began to cut away at your clothes, you shut your mind down and pretended none of this was happening, that you weren’t really tied down in some lunatic's basement being stripped of your clothes and dignity. The faster you breathe, the more lightheaded you become. It didn’t take long for you to pass out.
“Aww, what a pity. I would have liked for you to see how pretty your clothes are. Oh well.”
As you lay unconscious, Jin cut away at your clothes. He took his time, eyes roaming over your body as if it were art in a museum. His fingers itch to touch, but he was too much of a gentleman to indulge. He swiftly removes your boring clothes and then begins dressing you with the hand made clothes he had pre-made for you. It only took him one look to know exactly what would fit you. The baby pink cloth he chose was perfect against your skin. He knew it would be. There was no need for underwear, not when he could see the peak of your nipples showing through the transparent cloth so perfectly. You really were something to behold. Satisfied with his work, he pulls out his makeup kit and goes to work. This was his favorite part. Everything about you was more than he could ask for. The more he stares at you, and the more makeup he applies, the harder it is for him not to sneak a taste. Tenderly he bends down to kiss your lips and when you sigh he feels his heart constrict.
“So fucking perfect, darling. I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”
When everything is done, he gets up with a satisfied smile and leaves the room. He knew you’d need to rest before you put on his best show.
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Once again you awoke to unfamiliar surroundings and your limbs bound. You were thirstier than you remember and the darkness all around you made you want to sleep more, but you couldn’t. There had to be a way to get out. You begin to struggle against the binds praying that maybe Jin wasn’t so good at tying, but a bright light suddenly pops on beaming right on you. You could barely see anything, the power of the bulb making your headache come back full force. The sound of clapping makes its way to you, and it was obvious it was a recording. What was definitely not a recording was the sound of Jin’s voice over the speakers in the room.
“Gentleman and gentleman!” he giggles. “Tonight we have a special show for you, yes only you because there’s only one of me!” Again he laughs. “Let’s give it up for y/n, the prettiest doll you ever did see.”
Again the recorded clapping sounds all around you along with cheers, yet you know there was only one person in the room. Suddenly your arms start to get pulled up, along with your legs. You were being lifted up against your will and though you wanted to fight it, the height you were being taken to was pretty far from the floor.
From somewhere in the darkness, Jin’s clapping and jeering has you searching. At this point you were beyond exhausted and you weren’t even sure how many hours you’d been trapped. You also felt so unlike yourself. Your body felt heavy and your head was spinning.
“Lovely! Look how pretty you are. Why don’t you give us a turn.”
The ropes holding you rotate your body and then drop your arms a bit forward so that you are bent forward with your hips elevated higher. They begin to tug your limps back and forth making it seem like you are dancing and every tug and pull only makes you feel sicker. Unable to hold back, you vomit all over the floor below you.
“Oh no! OH NO! This won’t do. My darling.”
You feel yourself getting lowered down softly until you’re settled in the pool of your own vomit. The next thing you feel are Jin’s hands lifting you up and carrying you off somewhere. Water droplets fall over your head and you realize you’ve been carried to a shower. It feels amazing and even though Jin removed your clothes, you didn’t care. Even when he begins cleaning your body and shampooing your hair, you just sit on the tiled floor letting him do it. You had no control over your body. You don’t register how he too was naked and that he was sporting an erection.
He carries you out of the bathroom all wrapped in a towel and sits you on a vanity chair. He brushes your hair and puts lotion over your skin, not once uttering a single word. When he’s all finished, he carries you to his bed and tucks you in. He knew the injection he gave you while you were passed out was too much, but he didn’t want you to wake up while he was still styling you for his show. He should’ve known when it took you much longer than the others to wake up. It was stupid of him to put you through it when you were such a fragile and soft baby. He caresses your face and hair as he lay next to you naked. You were both naked because let’s face it, he was greedy like that. He watches your eyelashes flutter and wonders what in the world you might be dreaming. Hopefully by the morning everything would be better.
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Feeling like you’d been hit by a brick wall, you could barely move your arms, the soreness running from your neck down to the tips of your fingers. Your legs hurt as well and your stomach made an unpleasant sound. What the hell was happening? You try to turn but a vice-like grip over your waist keeps you in place. Slowly you turn your head to find that Jin is asleep and is holding you tight. As quietly as you can, you start to remove his hand and slide out of his grip. You make it a few steps before Jin’s voice startles you.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He spoke sleepily, not even making a move to grab you. It was like he knew you couldn’t go anywhere. That didn’t stop you from trying. Not looking back at him, you scan the room for anything that could help you make an escape. You spot the brush from last night and grab it quickly turning to fight him and then realize how stupid you were being. What could you possibly do with a brush?
This gets Jin’s attention. He sits up, the blanket laying over his hips revealing his upper body and abs. His hair was a shaggy mess and lips swollen from sleep. Were it another time or another Jin, you might say he looked good enough to eat, but this was not a normal man. He was a killer, with weird kinks you didn’t even want to think about. Whatever it was he was doing with you had made him your number one enemy, and there was no way you could see him in any sexual way.
“Come here, darling. What do you plan to do with that brush, hm? Why don’t you come back to bed. You must be so hungry after that wonderful display you put on last night. I must say, the floodlights left little to the imagination with the way your sheer clothes revealed….everything. It’s too bad you got sick. That was my fault. Come to bed, silly. Breakfast should be here any minute.”
His words remind you of the hunger you had suppressed and suddenly your belly starts to rumble. Even though it was tempting, you don’t move. Who knows what else he has up his sleeve.
When Jin senses your hesitance, his annoyance wells up. “I said come here, darling. Don’t make me come get you.”
Your body begins to shake, out of fear or hunger--you’re not sure. When he moves a leg off the bed, you quickly scurry to your side and sit down slowly eyeing him the entire time with the brush in your hand as your defense.
“Good girl. Now, give me the brush. You’ll need your hands for eating.”
“I don’t wan--”
“Brush. Now.”
You hand it hesitantly and then watch as he gets up off the bed and walks to the vanity, placing it down gently. It was so disgusting to see that somehow this little game he was playing was turning him on. He was partially aroused, and remembering your nakedness, you cover up quickly feeling sick to your stomach.
“Darling. I hate to have to do this but, you haven’t proven to me that you’re trustworthy. I already told you about the others and yet you want to test me. I really like you a lot. In fact, probably more than the others. I’ve never laid next to my other girls. You’re the first. That’s why it hurts me to have to tie you up again.”
“NO! Please. I-- I promise you don’t have to. I won’t--I mean...Please...don’t do that I won’t be bad again…”
Opening the drawer in front of him Jin grabs the ropes he used for his extracurricular activities and walks over to you. He hated that his body was making it obvious how much he liked you when he wanted to hold the power over you, but you had control over him--strangely. When he gets to your side of the bed, you are clearly ready to put up a fight and he wasn’t in the mood for it. His hand shoots out to your neck and tightens leaving you in shock.
“Don’t make me hurt you, y/n. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. And after last night, with you getting sick from the injection, I wouldn’t want to force you another way. Remember, I’m a gentleman. Now be a good darling and give me your hands. If you’re worried about eating. I’ll feed you.”
You feel his thumb squeeze tighter and though your own hands grip against his in an attempt to escape, he is much stronger. Feeling yourself grow weak, you let your hands fall and give in to his will. Placing them in front of you, Jin quickly ties you up and locks you in place.
“There. You always look so lovely with ropes. This is why I consider you my prettiest doll. I’ve never seen anyone look as good as you do in the clothes I’ve made. It’s like you were made for them. With the ropes on and the makeup...the outfit...gahh…”
His hand slams against the headboard beside your head and he squeezes his thighs together, his free hand pressing down against the erection that’s been annoying him for hours. “Fuck! Do you see what you do to me? You’re my perfect doll. Can’t you see that? You were made for me. I can’t wait to put you in the next outfit I have for you. It comes with ribbons for your pigtails and---”
A knock at the door stops his discourse. He grabs a nearby robe and answers the door. When the food enters the room you almost want to cry. The smell is amazing and for a moment you forget everything else.
“Hungry, darling?”
This time you don’t hold back, nodding desperately wanting him to bring you the food immediately. You’re not sure how many days have gone by with the lack of windows and clocks in this prison you were in. You've been in and out of consciousness so many times, and honestly, your hunger was starting to be the most important thing right now.
“I didn’t know what you would like so I took the liberty of ordering everything. I have a wonderful staff here. They’re paid for their work and their silence. It’s quite amazing actually. I can focus on my career and my hobbies. So, how about some fruit?”
Whatever Jin was saying was not registering. Your eyes were focused on the food and nothing else. When Jin brought up a piece of fruit to your mouth, you took it eagerly, not caring if the juices dripped over your chin. He continued to feed you more and more, occasionally slipping a finger into your mouth hoping your tongue would lick over it. The more he fed you, the harder he got, the robe now rubbing over the tip of his length as he fidgeted in his seat.
“There, what a good darling you are. Feeling better?”
“Water please.”
Jin did not linger, quickly grabbing the glass of water and bringing it to your lips. When you begin to chug he tries to keep up with your demand, but his hand slips and he wets your entire neck and chest. “Shit, I’m sorry, doll. Let me.”
He removes the wet blanket that shields you and you jerk forward not wanting for him to see you, but it was too late. You were exposed once again, and this time, Jin makes no attempt to hide the lust in his eyes.
“I don’t think I can wait any longer. I have your new outfit this closet. I won’t put you in my stage room for this because I want this to be...for me...between us--intimate.”
You couldn’t help but to cry again, the sick and twisted games he was playing too much for you to handle. “No...please don’t make me do that. Jin, please let me go. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I won’t tell anyone I promise. I’ll do anything...I--”
His hand over your mouth silences you. “Y/n. You really like to run your mouth too much’s driving me crazy. Your begging is so pretty, but please shut up. I know what’ll change your mind. Wait here.”
He seems way too happy when he runs to search in the drawer. You start tugging harshly against the ropes not caring that it was pulling against your skin and making it bleed. You’re so focused on it that when Jin comes up and tugs your legs down, you yelp in shock.
“DARLING! Stop or else it’s going to hurt.”
When you look down you see him holding a small object unfamiliar to you. He puts it into his mouth and pulls it out with a smile, satisfied with how his spit coats the surface. Another item calls your attention--lube? While he holds your legs down with one arm and half his body, his other hand works to lube the object and then he spreads your legs. You begin to fidget unsure of what he intends to do.
His booming voice makes you stop instantly, the viciousness behind it making it clear you should give him your full attention.
“Okay good. Keep your legs don't want that again do you?” He gestures to the needle on the dresser and you freeze.
“I see we speak the same language. Now, because I would never touch a lady without her permission, I’m going to need you to do something for me. Push this inside of you.”
Your mouth drops open the moment you realize what he is asking you to do. He is holding some sort of toy and for whatever sick reason he wants you to put it inside of yourself. Not wanting him to drug you again and even less for him to do it himself, you grab it and slide it in, your tears trailing over your cheeks the entire time.
Jin sits back and watches you, amazed at how much more compliant you’ve become. He was glad because he really did favor you above the others. As soon as it disappears inside of you, he grabs his phone and turns the dial to the lowest setting. Immediately you buck up and he smirks. “Good. Now let’s get you dressed.”
His outfit for you is sweet and simple. It wasn’t a typical doll outfit since it was more lace than cotton. He manages to include ribbons tied at your elbow and knees. The material is so revealing it looks like it belongs in a stripclub. There is an opening at your cunt allowing access to anyone wanting it--mainly him. He manages to tie your hair into pigtails and paint marionette markings on all your joints. The entire process takes him a few hours. While he works on you he plays with the controls on his phone increasing the vibrations inside of you slowly. As much as you try to hold back, a few orgasms rack your body.
When he finishes getting you ready, he stands back admiring his work. Out of all his previous babies, you were the most gorgeous. “You’re perfect, y/n. This outfit was made for you. I am confident you’re going to put on an amazing show. This time we will be in here so there is no need to feel nervous. My eyes will be on you and nowhere else. Let’s set you up.”
He somehow manages to tie you to the high posts on the frame of his bed effectively getting you to stand. Everything happens so fast and with the distraction of the looming needle sitting on the dresser and the vibrating toy inside of you, Jin was able to get you to do exactly as he wished. You were splayed out, arms and legs open like a starfish, looking like a lamb ready for the slaughter. His low chuckle made you nauseous, but after your previous display, you didn’t want his hands on you anymore. The way he stood off in the corner of the room sitting back on his velvet chaise brewed a hatred within you that you never experienced before. If this fucker wanted a show, that’s exactly what you would do, but…
Another vibration forces your body to shudder. You can’t close your legs to stave off the stimulation nor can you pull it out. You can see part of your reflection to the right of you in the mirror on the dresser and it’s beyond degrading. The tiny pink string hanging out of you nauseates you, the foreign and unwelcome object making your head spin. If only you could pull it out and focus on that damned needle.
“Look at you. It’s cute--the way you act like you don’t want this. Your body tells me differently, baby. Look at your pretty nipples…so hard and sensitive. Does it hurt you when the lace rubs over them? You want to cum again, don’t you?”
When he goes to turn up the vibrator once again, you scream out. You can’t help it, the overstimulation is too much to bear and if he continues on like this you might pass out from exhaustion. “NO! NO...please no more. I c-can do--I can do it without the toy. P-please take it out. Let me s-show you.”
Your request captures Jin’s interest. Could it be that you were going to do a show for him all on your own? All his other disobedient girls needed motivation and never offered such a gift. He was tempted.
“Is that so? I kind of like you like this all whimpery and messy. Your thighs are so shiny from all the arousal you’re leaking, baby. Don’t you like how good I am to you?”
“I doo, I dooo, b-but...I can be better. I can be a good girl. Let me try. Please.” You hope he takes the bait because frankly, you had no other option. This was going to be the only opportunity as far as you could tell. There was no guarantee he’d let you be with him alone like this again, nor that he’d have a needle full of god knows what so close by. You wait and watch the decision playing over his features until another buzz shocks you into another orgasm.
Jin snickers as he watches your body convulse and then fall forward. The only thing sustaining you are the ropes he tied like a professional. It’s pretty amazing how good he’s gotten. The first few girls had successfully gotten free, but they never made it past the main hall. Pathetic little bitches. You, however, were tied up like a perfect little treat, unable to escape and drooling from the amount of orgasms he’s gifted your body. For a moment he enjoys the show, until a drop of blood lands on his rug.
“Princess!” His voice shocks him, the worry laced within it unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He hops up and over to you, checking every inch of your body. When he finally reaches your face, he sees you’ve bitten your bottom lip hard--probably to keep from screaming out your pleasure. You were such a spirited and stubborn little thing.
“Okay, fine. I never do this, so consider yourself lucky. I’ll let you show me what you can do. You need to hydrate first.”
Jin unties you and sets you on the bed where you sit in agony. The temptation to pull out the toy is still there, but now that you were free, you didn’t want to push your luck. He comes back with water and lets you drink. You’re thirstier than you realize, and almost want to sigh in pleasure at the feeling of it flowing down your throat.
“There’s a good girl. So, tell me, did you still want this toy inside or not?”’
You almost spit out the water with how fast you answer him, “NO!”
“Have it your way,” Jin chuckles.
You hope he’s giving you the chance to remove it, but you should have known better. Kneeling before you, he opens your legs, letting his fingers slide softly up your thighs. When he reaches your center, he spreads your lips open and wraps the cord over his middle finger and pulls slowly.
The action causes your legs to shake, but you suppress it by pressing down on your knees with your palms. Jins stares up at you taking his sweet time removing the distressing device.
“There.” The popping sound it makes as he pulls it out is embarrassing, and as soon as he’s clear of your legs, you snap them closed and exhale.
Jin stands back and admires your flushed skin, the sweat on your brow, and the wetness coating the vibrator purchased especially for you. It was a pity you didn’t want to play with it anymore. He had so many wonderful plans for it, but at the moment he was more intrigued by whatever show you promised him. He stands back and leans against the dresser, the very same holding the syringe you so desperately want to reach.
Not wasting anymore time, and battling against complete and utter exhaustion, you stand to your feet and put on your best face. Using the frilly attire to your advantage, you run your hand up your thighs, over your belly and over your breasts. You sway your hips side to side slowly, a seductive dance you hope will ensnare him. His eyes are glued to you already, the attention making you feel strangely powerful. Sliding your hands back behind your neck, you feather your hair over your arms and bring one back over your face and onto your lips. Making sure to lock eyes with him, you notice his flicker to your lips where your fingers are currently playing with your tongue, fingertips running gently over it and slowly entering your mouth.
“Enough!” Jin growls, his patience having run its course.
Before you can walk over to pin him, he storms towards you. A hand comes to your throat and the force of it forces your feet backward. The edge of the bed meets your calves and now completely out of control, Jin takes over and lifts you onto the bed. There is nothing you can do, not when his hands are rushing to remove every inch of your clothing. He rips at the frilly material as if it were paper and pins your hands above your head with one of his own. He doesn’t bother to take off his robe, his cock already peeking through the opening on the front.
At this point you’re beyond exhausted, the idea of even escaping slowly slipping away. He drags one of his hands up your body, fingernails slowly trailing over your skin and belly. He moves them around lightly, the pads brushing over your flesh in featherlight strokes creating a tickling sensation you can barely endure. You want to cry out, beg him to stop, but your voice is completely gone. You almost start giggling, the soft strokes over your skin assaulting your most sensitive parts. You squeeze your thighs together, the tickling beginning to stir your bladder.
“You think you can go on teasing me like this, princess? I think I’ve been patient enough, don’t you think? How dare you be so fucking sexy? None of my other girls were as perfect as you. I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, but I can’t wait any longer. You do want me, right?”
You close your eyes already knowing what’s coming. His warm breath over your face steals your breath away and you just lay there defeated. You’d fought him all day and there was no fight left in you. He takes your lack of response as permission, and the moment he enters you, he almost cries out in euphoria.
There is no doubt about his size. He’s big and thick. He doesn’t push in aggressively, but takes his time, almost like he wants to enjoy every single second. He kisses over your neck and chin as if the tenderness would make this situation any better. The truth was, you didn’t want him and you didn’t want this. At first you were attracted to him, but now knowing what a crazy animal he is, the entire experience is a living nightmare.
With his own hands, he adjusts your body and hips, securing your legs over his waist in order to press himself deeper. Slowly he rolls his hips and settles himself to the hilt. The feeling overwhelms him, the sensation of finally filling you making him dizzy. He doesn’t take advantage of you, no, that wasn’t his style. You obviously wanted him, otherwise why would you have cum so many times, why would you be soaked and dripping just for him right now? You showed him as much when you did your dirty little dance for him. He had to let you know that your little display was unacceptable and that none of his dolls were allowed to be filthy sluts. This was just his way of teaching you that no one else was allowed to enjoy or even delight in the temptation that is you. You’d learn really quickly what it meant to be his, or else.
Though you try to fight the feeling of pleasure slowly rising, it’s next to near impossible. Your body is already extremely sensitive and he knows this, using your momentarily vulnerability to his advantage. He knows exactly what he’s doing. His fingers tug at your nipples, teeth nip over your skin, and fingers stroke over your clit perfectly. Surprisingly he’s more gentle than you expect. Your traitorous body begins to accept the touch, your skin already prickling and orgasm on the verge of assaulting you.
“That’s it my pretty darling. I always knew you’d give yourself to me like this. Are you going to cum all over my dick--make me the happiest man on this earth? I’ve been waiting for so long. Show me how sorry you are for being such a dirty whore.”
His words press upon your neck leaving a permanent mark on you, solidifying his possession. You want to say no--scream at him to get off of you and die, but his fingers work faster, and before you know it, you’re screaming out your orgasm instead. It’s incredibly potent, the last few hours of edging and teasing only serving to shatter you entirely. Before you can come back down to earth, his thrusts become sloppy and desperate, and within seconds, he emptying himself completely, and dropping down to the side of you heaving and huffing.
“Fuck!” He doesn’t remember the last time he came so hard, and the other girls most certainly never got him so worked up. You were more than he ever dreamed he’d have. There was no way he would let you go.
It only takes you a moment to catch your breath before the realization of time slowing down hits you. If not now, then when? While Jin lays back catching his breath, you jolt up off the bed running to the dresser. As soon as the needle is in your hand, you turn to attack and find that he’s already made it halfway off the mattress--one leg on the bed and the other on the floor.
“Y/n, my love. What do you think you’re doing?”
The sound of his voice is like nails on a chalkboard and the fear coursing through you makes you feel slightly weak. You fight the desire to fall to the ground in a pathetic heap, now focused on the adrenaline driving you.
“Fuck you! I won’t be your little puppet anymore you sick fuck!”
You pace carefully, keeping your back close to the exit hoping the door isn’t locked. Jin continues moving off the bed, careful not to make any sudden movements. Your body is on high alert, anything he does or says your complete focus.
“Don’t you fucking move! Don’t you dare. I’m leaving. Let me the fuck out!”
For some reason Jin knows you mean every word, and not wanting you to hurt yourself, he complies, pressing the button by his bedside table. You hear the bolts unlock, the sound music to your ears. You begin to cry knowing the possibility of escape is so close. Your chest rocks with the heaves you can barely contain. You walk backwards, careful not to trip. When your hand comes in contact with the doorknob, you twist it open, needle still in hand and pointed at Jin.
Temporarily distracted with your freedom, you miss it when Jin runs forward to grab you. You scream and fall to the ground with him. Clawing at whatever you can, you press your fingers into his eyes, skin, and face. You don’t know where the needle has gone, the entire scuffle causing it to fall from your hand. Although Jin is strong, at the moment your will to live is stronger. You can feel him struggling to control you and when he tries to pin you down, you almost break down at the possibility of defeat, but the flash of the drug you need to knock this demon down catches your eyes. You reach out successfully grabbing it. It only takes a moment, but you manage to free a bit of your arms and jab the needle right into his neck. Pressing the plunger down, you inject him full of the drug he used on you not days ago. You hope it’ll have the same effect on him as it did you--leave him sick and so out of it he can’t even move.
Jin feels the moment it penetrates his skin and reaches for it with weak hands. Pulling it out, he works to focus his eyes, the surprise written all over his face. “How could you?”
He freezes and then drops right on top of your body heavily. The weight is too much, but with the little strength you have left, you push him off of you, exhaling feebly. There is no doubt of how much you wish to remain on the floor resting, the entire day’s events rendering you a pathetic excuse of a woman, but there is no time for it. Attempting to right yourself, you stand to your feet, eyes never leaving the lifeless body on the floor. You don’t think he’s dead, or at least you don't know, but there was no time to dwell on any of that. You make it to the door you managed to open earlier and walk out into a dimly lit hall. There is no way of knowing what time it is, but based on the food you got earlier, you would say it had to be mid afternoon.
As quiet as a mouse you tiptoe down the long path and end up at a bend that leads you to a large room. The windows seem to be darkened by thick curtains so it makes it hard for you to see where you are going. It’s not like you remember seeing any of this when the entire time you’ve been his captive he had you drugged. Grabbing a throw you see laying over the couch, you wrap it over your body as best as you can. Using your instincts, you walk toward an area you hope might have an exit, and with luck on your side you find an elevator. You call for it, fear curdling in your belly. If someone were to find you now you’d be unable to fight them off. The ding of it’s arrival stops your heart, and when the doors open, you release the breath you were holding, happy that it’s empty.
You choose the first floor and end up coming upon a large kitchen. The silence is eerie and it feels as if someone will pop out on you at any moment. Walking a little further you find a large door and what appears to be your salvation. You unlock the door and turn the knob not expecting the loud sound of a blaring alarm. You don’t wait to see who will show up now that your absence was announced.
You run out into the light of the day, the brightness from the sun above blinding you. None of this stops you, however. You walk into the yard realizing that this part of the house looked completely normal, like it was just a regular home in a suburban community. Your body gives you one last boost enabling you to run and unlock the wooden fence at the end of the opening. Just as you walk out you hear someone calling your name, but it was too late. You don’t bother turning back, certain that one of Jin’s staff probably realized you escaped. With freedom literally within your grasp, you manage to walk a few steps before hearing several gasps and then children before falling to the ground with a hard thud.
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Sitting at your desk, you watch the cursor mindlessly, your thoughts straying to a memory you’ve been working hard to forget. In a few hours you’d be meeting with your therapist, someone who’s been able to get you through the past four years of life. You can’t help but feel small, especially on a day like today--the anniversary of when it all went down.
“Y/n, you okay?”
You turn to your left to find your friend Taehyung who somehow managed to creep his way into your heart. His sweet demeanor and soft exterior made you think of him as a teddy bear, and that is exactly what he was when he knew you needed a hug.
“Yea. I’m good.” You smile at him to assure him, but the truth is, he had no idea. None of your co-workers did. After everything that happened, it took you a year to even begin a new life. You were so afraid to socialize, and meeting new people had your red flags waving every single time. With time, you slowly learned to let some people in and enter society once again.
The day you escaped, you barely made it a few steps out of Jin’s backyard before collapsing in front of a family who was having a barbecue outside of their garage. They immediately called the police and within hours Jin had been arrested and all of his properties and assets seized. As you lay in the hospital recovering, the district attorney took down the entire circus and interrogated every single person employed by Jin. Most of the workers were clueless, while a handful knew exactly what had been taking place for the last seven years in his godforsaken circus. You were not the first victim, but you had been the last. Although the authorities made it clear to you that your nightmare would be locked up for good, there was always that paranoia deep within--the one that made you look over your shoulder more than normal people, and lock every single door at night. You never opened your windows and you most certainly never went out alone.
“Okay good. Jimin and I were wondering if you wanted to go out with us tonight. He got some tickets to a show.”
It was cute how they always invited you knowing you were a loner, but it always felt like you were always the third wheel. “No, it’s okay. You take your lover to the show without me. I’ll be in the way.”
“Stop that, silly. You’re never in the way. Besides, Jimin got all these free tickets to the traveling circus and we have to get rid of them. Do you know anyone else that might want to come?”
You freeze, chest now constricted and heartbeat racing. It couldn’t be, Jin was put away, his circus was shut down...there was no way he was back…
“What did you s-say…”
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+ all writing is ©koosbabygrl. so do not copy, edit, or steal my writing. do not use on youtube or any other social media.
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ktheist · 4 months ago
thank you, daddy. | m [ksj]
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➼ premise. the last time you saw seokjin was when he went off to college and never looked back. uncle kim, a friend of your father who treated you like his own daughter, would complain about his estranged son whenever he came to visit in the new year and got drunk and turned into a pathetic sobbing mess.
that scared the fuck out of you because who knew old people could look so ugly when they’re crying over their child whom they neglected for the most part of his life?
well, that child grew up into a fine young man.
fine enough to afford a sugar baby.
➼ muses. seokjin x reader
➼ genre. ceo au. sugar daddy-baby au. college au. eventual established relationship. eventual housewife!reader. eventual husband!seokjin. eventual parents au.
➼ words. 19k
➼ warnings. 9 year age gap, multiple explicit scenes, innuendos, depictions of breeding kink, bondage, they’re both horny as fuck.
to say you’ve never given much thought for love, for loving or for being loved—would be a big, utterly fat, fucking lie. the fairytales and happy endings you grew up reading planted stars in your eyes and now you’re blind.
not because of love. fuck, no.
but because the meteor crash lands into your very existence and wipes away all traces of that little girl with starry eyes and a beating heart. in its place, rises a woman from the ashes of what she once was.
hearts are fickle little things. they love and they change their course and they find another sea to fall in love all over again.
not yours though. you keep yours locked up in a pretty little chest with gold ornaments carved into them.
when the boys you meet become featureless, blank canvases with the same old lustrous glint in their eyes, you turn to older men. and when even that fades away like the ashes they’ll be burned into in less than five years, you look for another source of entertainment.
“i’m so bored,” cliche, but true, “men are boring.”
“have you tried the taste of a forbidden cherry?” jennie kim smiles coquettishly, her eyeliner making her eyes appear more catty than they are.
“i can’t form emotional bonds with girls either, i tried,” you sigh.
“silly little petal,” she laughs.
“why are you talking like that?” you quiz, throwing your gaze in her direction but jennie simply struts your way like the small distance between you and the couch is a runaway.
“if you can’t feel love, doesn’t mean you can’t feel anything else, does it?” she insinuates, pushing her phone in your hand.
the screen is lit with a gold and black layout with multiple pictures of suited bodies—some are a bit tight and some fit just right. and on top of the screen, in fancy cursive, the words sugarlite winks at you tantalizingly.
“what’s this?” you blink.
“your new hobby, baby.” she smirks.
the truth is, you’re not sure if that exchange with jennie kim is real or not. you and her aren’t even that close. the only reason you and her would ever find yourselves trapped in a room together is if you’re playing 7 minutes in heaven, got paired together and shoved by your friends into some empty room with the most minimal lighting possible. instead of making out, you both choose to sit miles apart from each other.
still, that night marks the night of your descent to the black little hole of nightly wonders and the birth of a stone cold ego crusher. your first daddy was a charmer. suave, suit-wearing, deep voice that penetrates straight into your core. it’s impossible not to fuck him. but that didn’t last long because he was getting married to the woman of his family’s choice.
the rest? well, you barely remember the rest. they’re either old little bums with leery eyes and barely any teeth for a smile or fucking maniacs who teased out sides of you unbeknownst to anyone.
but they’re a little too much for you to continue seeing.
so you go through one man after another, meeting them at the lotus’ bar with tabletops shiny enough to make a run for your highlighter’s founder. the marble floor clicks with every step of your slick black pumps. the soft jazz spills into the hallway, breathing life into the portraits of people whose faces you’ve memorized but never know who.
they’re probably big shots in their own days.
the vicinity barely hosts more than ten people.
it’s because it’s 8 in the evening and on a monday night—it’s too early to be drinking on a monday night.
but those who do, are always the most fun.
your blood red lips curve into a smile as you spot the three men. one is in his mid 40’s and is sporting a beer belly. the other is behind the counter, mixing cocktails and wiping down glasses.
the last one has his back turned on you as he sits at the end of the bar as though warning anyone who’d dare to approach him.
well, that’s certainly not your possible target.
maybe he hasn’t arrived. you shrug.
“hey, handsome, how are you doing?” you greet the man behind the bar.
“miss seo,” he smiles, pretty white pearls beaming back at you, “business is pretty slow but i get by.”
the way the man at the end of the bar glances at you doesn’t go past you. it’s normal for men to steal a peek at this package they’ll never have a chance of buying even on a discount.
but what’s not normal is when the chair they’re sitting on scraped against the floor and a familiar pair of brown—almost pitch black eyes—flash with rage as they bore into yours, “____? what the—what are you doing here?”
kim seokjin.
you never thought you’d be seeing him again. and most definitely not in the bar you frequent for your night rendezvous. he’s lost most of his baby fat, obtaining a fine jawline that looks like they can cut you in half. yet his cheeks still retain their squishable puffiness from his younger days.
and his hair is dyed auburn, deep parted as his bangs brush against his forehead gently. a much different contrast to the glare in his eyes.
his overly thick glasses are gone—whether its contacts or lasered, you don’t care. his eyes are prettier  when you can actually see them.
the bartender’s gaze flits over the tall, towering dark-haired man in front of you. his eyes tell you this isn’t the first time a man twice the size of the woman he’s meeting flipped out at the sight of said woman.
“gee, you tell me. i’m just here to meet someone.” you say shrug, not yet connecting the dots.
the man’s thick set of brows knit together. they look like they might stay glued together forever if you don't do something about it.
“anyways, i’m not gonna snitch so chill your man tiddies,” you wave a dismissive, perfectly manicured hand.
the thing is, they’re not the bad kind of man tiddies. you have no complaints burying your face in them. it’s not hard to tell even under that blazer and vest he’s wearing right now.
just as you’re about to brush past him, large thick fingers curl around your tiny little wrist.
“what—“ you’re about to ask when the next words that slips out of seokjin’s mouth gets your body freezing like ice in the antarctic.
“miss seo hana,” he whispers under his breath and you almost visibly shiver in delight of his deep voice licking your ear.
that is, until you realize who he’s referring to.
his darkened gaze bore into you like a bottomless pit of destruction. one, if you fall, you’ll never be able to crawl out of.
“how did you know that name—well, my alias—whatever.” you glare.
“what are you doing on a fucking sugar daddy app?” he waves his phone in the air, the screen flashing too brightly for the briefest moment before your eyes finally caught sight of the familiar golden black-toned chat app.
the sender sent him a picture of a headless woman in a deep silken emerald dress. the same dress that’s hugging your curves in all the right places.
“are you—“ your eyes widen as realization hits you in the face with a baseball bat, “mr. kim jinseok?”
when only silence hangs in the air, you see the bartender approach in your periphery.
“miss, would you like an angel-a?” he cautiously asks.
it’s a universal code for asking if you need help. you give the man holding your wrist one last unappreciative glance before yanking your hand out of his grasp and smiles at the bartender.
“i’m good, thanks.” you say.
he hides his thoughts well, nodding and scurrying back to his spot where he stands, wiping the shot glasses behind the bar.
“kim jinseok? seriously? you couldn’t pick a better name?” you lift a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at the brooding man.
it takes him five whole seconds before he lets out a breath, throws his head back and sighs deeply.
“what about you? what about seo hana?” seokjin slips back onto his seat, swiping the half filled glass off the smooth surface of the counter and downing it in one gulp.
you can’t help but notice how his adam’s apple bobs as he takes the shot as if it’s his first of the night. you wonder how they’ll move underneath you.
“it means little flower in japanese,” you smile coquettishly, “gives them something to look forward to.”
you order a shot of tequila, making sure to throw in a wink at the bartender to show you’re fine. the fabric of his pants under your palm feels soft and his thigh feels like they’re built of muscles. you wonder how they’d look like kneeling on the mattress with your legs around them.
“i’m taking you home,” seokjin announces a second later, slipping out of his seat and marching towards the exit like he knows you’re going to follow.
you heave out a despondent sigh before the sight of a shot glass slips into view. the colorless liquid looks a lot like water but burns your throat all the same.
“thanks, handsome,” you shoot him a smile before strutting in the direction seokjin disappeared to.
you see the man’s back shrinking as he gets further away. his strides are bigger than yours and as much as you hate to run after a man, your heels are clicking against the walls and you see a girl in a rich emerald dress with her hair pinned up in the horizontally lined wall mirror.
seokjin must have heard but he doesn’t look like he cares. so he can’t blame you when your crimson nails brush against his shoulder and he finds himself against the aforementioned wall mirror with you in front of him, one leg wedged in between his.
“i’m not leaving without getting my pay,” you say, tainting his neck with your blood red lipstick, smirking when you hear the sharp intake of breath coming from the man you have pinned against the wall.
“i’ll pay! j-just...” his facade comes crumbling before you get the chance to sink your teeth in his flesh and mar his smooth, milky skin with a love bite.
“i like working for what i deserve,” you smirk and before seokjin could retort, you’re crashing your lips against his.
his whole body turns to statue as you kiss him and lick his bottom lip but not letting your tongue go past that until he sighs against your mouth. then, his hands cup your face and his forehead leans on yours within a lull in time after you’ve sated at least minuscule of your thirst for each other.
“i knew you since you were a kid,” he murmurs, eyes sweeping over your lipstick smudged lips.
“so did i, genius,” you roll your eyes.
and seokjin devours you, kissing you and biting down on your bottom lip harder than you like but you suppose it’s fair since he probably didn’t like being shoved against a wall either. but before your hand can snake down and cop a feel of his bulge, his own bands around your wrist and stops you just above his buckle.
“not here, not in public,” he says, breathing barely steadying.
“you do realize this is a hotel, right?” you have a sudden urge to roll your eye but you decide against it.
something tells you the attitude you’ve been showing is enough to warrant seokjin to never want to book you again. you’re yanked out of your reverie just as seokjin starts yanking you towards the lobby.
what is up with this man and holding your delicate wrist captive?
the receptionist’s eyes widen just the slightest bit before she puts on a perfect marionette smile. the name tag clipped to her lapel spells out “jung miyeon”.
“give me the best suite you’ve got,” seokjin grunts, finally releasing your wrist to fish for his wallet.
“that will be three thousand, six hundred and—“ miyeon trails off as soon as she sees the black card seokjin slides over.
“m-mr. kim, i-i apologize for not recognizing you sooner,” she fumbles with her words, bowing deeply.
“nevermind that, give me the key. i’ll collect my card tomorrow morning after i check out.” his words drip with a kind of authority you didn’t notice before.
was it because he was kim jinseok that only appeared to you as a sugar daddy and nothing more?
what good would it bring if he starts bossing around his sugar baby anyway.
“y-yes, it’s the lavender suite on the 18th floor,” miyeon slips a golden colored card across the counter.
before you can even check out the shiny little thing, seokjin’s already swiping it off the counter and gripping it in his hand like he’s holding on for dear life.
“well? what are you waiting for, little flower?” he looks back at you, those thick set of brows rising to the ceiling.
chills run down your spine as your stomach churns from the way he calls your name. it’s almost as though he’s taunting you for not being the freshly bloom you claim to be.
“just checking something out,” you smirk before brushing past him, “not much to see though.
seokjin quietly follows a few steps behind you, like a predator waiting for his time to prance at you. and true to your suspicion, as soon as you’re in the elevator, you’re pushed against the cool metal wall, a pair of whiskey lips on yours. his hand is under your chin, forcing your neck to crane up to touch his lips.
you can’t even complain that he’s not being so gentlemanly because his other hand is under your thigh, just inches from your ass yet not quite touching.
it definitely was the attitude, you think.
you don’t get to see how palatial the suite is nor appreciate its interiors because seokjin’s shrugging off his blazer and unbuttoning his vest before he roughly pulls on his tie. all of a sudden, you feel like a novice; unsure of where to put your hand when he’s taking care of himself like that.
but you don’t mind the view.
piece by piece, his clothing falls on the warm wooden floor until he’s in nothing but his pants.
“hands,” seokjin instructs and you blink, questioning if he’s for real but when those opulent honey brown gaze stare back at you as if he’s not going to repeat what he said, you bite your bottom lip.
closing your fists and bringing them together, you stretch your arms over to him. seokjin doesn’t even bat an eye when the belt snaps at his tugging. he wraps it around your wrists and your heart lurches in your stomach when he gives it one last tug before securing the buckle.
“tighter, daddy,” yet you still dare say.
that backfired though.
“eep!” an ungraceful yelp leaves your mouth when the man bends down, wraps one arm around your legs and hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.
“i’ll show you tight, petal.” seokjin’s low voice seeps into your bones and you have to cross your legs not to let yourself drip down your legs.
“ah! hey, no fair!” you complain when a smack lands on your ass but sigh in appreciation when you feel his hand on that same spot that seared with pain just a second ago.
the sheets feel like silk underneath you even when seokjin tossed you onto the king sized mattress unceremoniously.
“you could’ve saved some for me,” you whine as you watch him push down his pants and boxers.
but the regret soon dissipates when you see him stroke himself languidly, precum glinting off his tip like pretty diamonds. “think you can take it, little flower?”
“take off my dress—no, push it up and fuck me—i’m not wearing any panties anyway,” you’re fully aware what you’re saying.
“i know,” is all he says, caressing your hip where your panties would have ever so slightly protruded against the soft silken material of your dress—if you’d just wear one.
you’re too far preoccupied with other matters to ponder on what he means by that. for all you know, he might’ve only known when he spanked you on the way to the bed.
speaking of which, the bed doesn’t even budge when seokjin climbs on it but it dents underneath his weight as he crawls over to you like a beast sizing up his prey.
you swallow, teeth digging into your bottom lip almost painfully as you find yourself wishing the time would move faster and stop altogether so you could engrave this moment inside your head— the sight of kim seokjin’s hooded eyes fixed on the apex of your legs, his hand on your thigh just below where you dress ends.
but before he can reach where you want him to, your dress stops you from opening your legs any wider.
“you have got to be fucking kidding me,” you groan.
but that despondency is short-lived. you hear the sound of something tearing and before you know it, seokjin’s hand is snaking further up between your thighs until his middle and index finger swipes up your lips.
the hum that escapes your lips is purely instinctual. the moan that slips past you, even more so. his fingers slide right into you and your stomach feels like it’s burning— your whole body feels like it’s on fire. you’re not sure if it’s seokjin that’s pressing his hand down on your thigh to keep your legs spread but you wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the one all too willingly spread eagle in front of him.
“seokjin, please, please, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers out just as you’re about to reach the point of ecstasy.
“shh,” he hushes you up mindlessly, eyes trained on his erected self as he smoothes your arousal over his tip, the sight uncannily erotic for your hazed self.
you find a semblance of your sanity when he swiftly turns you over, the cool air hitting your aroused apex. he slips a pillow underneath your stomach. you’re sure your ass is up in the air.
he’ll fuck right into your heart and you’ll be able to bury your face in the sheet as you scream like there’s no other man in this world.
and fuck you seokjin did.
all the way till morning.
until you’re sore and weeping.
and even then, you rub your puffy eyes and ask, “can we go for another round?”
seokjin looks at you with rounded eyes. he looks like the unsuspecting, as pure as the driven snow boy you knew back home.
a kiss lands on your forehead as you feel the soft sheets get pulled over your body, “maybe after we get some sleep and food in you.”
when morning comes, you find yourself in a too-large empty bed. no matter how far you try to reach the other side, it’d still feel cold and lonely.
“‘daddies are busy men, they always leave in the morning’.” you murmur the words jennie kim used to say to you back when you first started—in the beginning, it sounded humorous but over time, you find yourself mimicking her speech under your breath before slipping out of bed and walking to the shower bare naked.
your ass is stinging and you’re walking funny but it could be worse; you thought you wouldn’t be able to walk at all. the warm seems to wash away the knots in your muscles but also make your insides tingle with the residue of last night’s fucking.
your heart makes a funny flip at the thought that you wouldn’t be able to experience something so beautiful and feral and raw like that again.
biting your lower lip, you let your hand snake down in between your legs. but after five minutes and being nowhere near to the exhilarating sensation that kim seokjin made you feel. in the end, you give up and opt for taking an actual shower, lathering the floral scented hotel-branded shower gel and decent-smelling shampoo.
when you step out of the shower in just a towel and a towelette wrapped around your head as your eyes settle on a masculine figure standing by the bed, your first instinct is to scream. before you know it, your hand is moving on its own as it reaches up to the damp towelette, tearing it off your head and tossing it in the intruder’s direction.
except it wasn’t an intruder.
“do you do this often? get shy and scream like you never begged me fuck you while crying like a baby?” seokjin doesn’t even bat an eye as the towel falls off his face and onto the floor.
at the mention of your spilled tears, your cheeks heat up and your stomach churns. “i lost myself for a little bit,” you shrug, ambling towards him—particularly the box at the end of the bed that he was in the middle of placing before your fight or flight instinct kicked it, “i thought you were some perverted hotel staff who snuck in after you left.”
“you—” seokjin begins but clamps his mouth shut, staring wordlessly before shaking his head, “what do you take me for? i’m not gonna leave someone’s daughter alone at the hotel after i...” he says grimly but it soon disappears after he meets your eyes, “did that happen before? men creeping into your hotel room?” seokjin’s furrowed stare pierces through your soul but you pretend to lift the lid of the peach colored box casually.
“no, but a friend went through that once—oh, cute.” you blink at the pastel violet dress. the diamonds wink at you as they scatter across the neckline and seem to disappear as it disperses down the chest area.
the other box that lies next to it bears the signature black and pink colors of victoria’s secret. you don’t need to inquire what those are. stull, you take a sweep about the room and notice the lack of mess you’ve both made out of your clothes that should be littered all over the floor but are gone.
the only unfixable mess is possibly the bed. the duvet is lying on the ground next to the floor, one corner of the fitted sheet came off and the pillows… where did all the pillows go?
come to think of it, you did spot one in the second sink.
“they’re not for you.” seokjin says simply and you hum.
“and who are they for? the cleaning lady down the hall?” the towel wrapped around you slips off your body and pools around your ankles before you put on the surprisingly simple cotton black panties. the bra comes next to which you don’t miss a chance to gather your hair over your shoulder and turn your back on him, “be a darling and hook them up for me.”
“why? can’t they be for the cleaning lady?” he counters yet  his finger pads ghost over your smooth back and sends shivers down your spine. for the briefest moment, you thought about pushing him on the bed, crawling over him and trapping him underneath you as you pulled out his surely erected dick and rode him.
but the thought gets flushed down the drain when a callus fingertip trails down your spine and lingers just above the band of the panties he got you.
you twirl around, standing on the tip of your toes before placing a light kiss on his cheek which starts going pink and blushing. seokjin’s eyes go wide, one brow lifted in mild curiosity.
you peer at him through your lashes, blinking innocently, “thank you, daddy.”
and then, you push him to the bed—it’s surprisingly easy, considering how he’s a man twice your size, “and i’ll show it to you.”
“by all means,” seokjin offers as he watches with darkened eyes, you lowering yourself in what would be his lap if he was sitting. you giggle at the noticeable bulge that brushes your apex as your hand snakes up to unbutton his crisp white shirt—it must be new, probably came in along with your gifts.
“no,” his hand curls around your wrist and you feel the twinge of rejection in your heart, but it patches itself up when his next words hit your ears like an invitation to treat, “you only need my dick, don’t you?”
he unbuckles his belt and pulls the zipper down. you lick your bottom lip as you pull his semi-hard erection through the hole of his boxer. his fingers feel too rough against your sensitive flesh as he helps push the panties to the side as you lower yourself on him and sigh in pure bliss at the feeling of being filled to the brim.
an hour later, you find yourself having tasmanian salmon fillet with dutch carrot purée rolled in and presented by the chef himself with your legs tingling from the aftermath of your…. gracious expression for the gifts while the chef was sweating bullets for some reason.
still, his eyes are twinkling with a sort of anticipation before seokjin said a ‘thank you, it’s an honor to have chef lee himself present us the dish’ with finality in his voice. chef lee’s shoulderline sags as if he wants to say more but he bows and leaves like a trained professional.
all the while, you’ve already dug in, humming a happy tune in your head as you relish in the creamy puree taste that tones down the lime in the salmon. the cheeriness in your face doesn’t go away even when you catch seokjin staring at you like a predator eyeing a bunny. though you do take a sip of the orange juice and clear your throat.
“shoot. i know you have questions.” you announce.
“i thought your monthly pocket money is enough to buy a good apartment in myeongdong.” it’s a statement, not a question.
“it is, this is just a hobby.” you shrug.
seokjin doesn’t say anything. he just drills holes inside your head until you obnoxiously sigh.
“it’s exciting… siphoning money off lonely old men, i mean.” a giggle escapes your lips at the remembrance of the shocked and offended faces throughout your… career.
and you’ve only been doing this for a year.
“since sugarlite doesn’t let you see each other’s face, you’ll only know once you meet. but both parties have the right to walk away with a little penalty fee.” you explain, a coquettish smile on your lips, “they didn’t think the baby would be the one to cancel so it’s a big fuck you in their face when i do—you should’ve seen the expression they make!”
“huh,” seokjin breathes out as if he didn’t expect that.
“not all of them are old grumps though, sometimes there are hidden gems. young, fuckable daddies. they’re a little fucked up in the head, but that’s what makes the sugar life fun,” your left foot is running up the smooth, almost silken material of seokjin’s pants — particularly his leg.
“i don’t—” he tries to deny but you cut him off.
“i like your belt,” you offer, foot perched on seokjin’s knee, “personally, i think tom ford is the least abrasive but if we’re talking about quality, givenchy is—“
the screech of the chair against the floor is what makes you swallow your words as you inhale sharply. it takes seokjin two steps to cross the distance between you and him. his hands find themselves on either side of the hand rest of your chair. there’s a fire in your stomach that threatens to light up your entire body as seokjin swiftly pulls the chair to turn you away from the table and face him.
“get up. turn around. one knee on the chair.” he instructs and you oblige, swallowing thickly as you feel the breeze in between your legs when a large, warm hand pushes your skirt up to rest on your hips.
the first strike has you gasping as if you didn’t believe that the gentle, unsuspecting young boy you once knew would know how to use his belt on a woman. the second time, you know to sink your teeth in the tender flesh of your bottom lip. but somewhere along the line, you left your pride where no one could see and flinched and moaned as the sound of leather smacking against skin rang in the air. your nails dig into the wooden material of the backrest, you almost think it’s either going to break underneath your grasp or you’re the one going to break.
it’s only after the tenth strike that he places a hand on your stinging left cheek and kisses the other softly.
that duality of kim seokjin drives you mad.
seokjin fucks you raw and just like in the bedroom, he simply pushed your panties out of the way and slides right into you without so much as a warning—you’re not embarrassed of your sexuality; actually you’re far too comfortable in your own skin to be, but—that’s when the most embarrassing moan escapes your lips. you think you sound like one of those girls who pretended to moan for the camera but felt nothing. but you stand here, fucked and sated and corrected.
for the next few months you’ve been dropping by seokjin’s office unannounced whenever you needed a good fuck because college’s been giving you a rough time. he booked you whenever you’re available but even if he didn’t, you’d still let him fuck you when he showed up on your doorstep in the early ams. tousled hair, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, tie hanging and looking fuckable than the crisp suit, slicked back hair ceo his workers knew him as.
you hide behind the guise of being almost-like-family and the female workers swoon over the side of seokjin that laughed and joked with you as they watched you walk out of his office and towards the elevator. little did they know, he’d shove his tongue down your throat in that fleeting moment of the elevator going down.
they thought kim seokjin was a loving brother to his almost-like-sister.
your father, your mother, seokjin’s mother and seokjin’s father do too. and you suppose that’s why his father has been calling you more often than you like, inquiring about his son whom you somehow managed to get through when not even him or his wife manage to achieve such an arduous feat.
“i don’t know uncle kim,” you hold in an agitated sigh; your father gave your number to seokjin’s father without your permission and he’s been calling you everyday to ask about his estranged son, “se—oppa’s pretty busy even on the weekends—how do i know? it’s ‘cause i’ve been bugging him to give me some of his time since it’s been so long but he won’t budge! people saw us having lunch together? i forced him to get out of his dreadful office, uncle kim!”
you throw in a fake giggle with that poorly constructed excuse.
“i see,” uncle kim sighs, resigned, “well, next time you see him. tell him to come home sometimes, yeah?”
“sure will,” the tone you use gets sweeter when you smell the goodbye approaching.
with a well wish on your studies, uncle kim finally lets you hang up. you toss your phone to the side as soon as you do, turning to face the complacently smiling man next to you as he plays with your nipple.
“how long are you planning to be a rebellious son of a conglomerate family?” you quiz, a stern look on your face but it melts away as soon as you gaze into those deep brown eyes you find yourself getting lost in.
as much as you hate to admit it, kim seokjin has that effect on you.
“thanks for handling him so politely,” is all seokjin offers.
“i should at least do that much for fucking his son behind his— oh.” your eyes glint with pleasant surprise, the hand that seokjin held and guided in between his legs, is stroking him teasingly.
it doesn’t take long for you to climb over him, the sheets slipping off your bare bodies.
“it can’t be helped, i need to take care of my own daddy,” you giggle, rubbing yourself against him.
and take care of him you do. after the third time you met and the—you lost count of how many times you went at it by then, you know just how to move your hips to get him gripping onto the duvet and moaning in pleasure. the first time you made him cum so hard while riding him, the skin on your hips and ass got marred with bruises, seokjin apologized profusely and had flowers sent to you in the middle of class.
some envious souls side-eyed you for the disturbance and maybe there’s a rumor spreading around about you fucking a way older man—more ancient than seokjin—but that was easily dealt with by cornering shin jimin and showing her a video of her and professor haejung fucking in the back building of the architecture faculty.
another month passes until kim seokjin shows up at your doorsteps with flushed cheeks and an overwhelming scent of alcohol accompanying him.
“gosh, why did secretary min have to push this on me?” you complain as you drag the barely conscious kim seokjin to your bed, his hand feels like a ton of rocks on your shoulder and his body is at risk of dragging you down to the ground if he trips on one of the random things you have lying around on the floor.
luckily, the moment his body descends, it’s to lie on the mattress. because of his large stature, he’s spread like a starfish on your bed which means it’s the couch you’re sleeping on tonight.
that, you don’t mind.
the problem—the actual one that has you sighing in serious contemplation—is his innocent sleeping face with his eyelashes brushing the top of his cheek, his light skin somehow glowing with pinkness of the alcohol and his half-parted lush lips that look so kissable right now. they’re a glaring contrast to his stone hard chest and abs—you don’t need to squint to see the outlines of his abdominal muscles underneath his flimsy shirt. and you’re trying so hard not to look at the noticeable tent in his pants as he lies spread eagle on your bed.
“seriously,” you murmur under your breath as you sit on the edge of the bed, pushing his overgrown bangs out of his closed eyes, “how many hearts did you break in the last 10 years?”
in terms of looks, body and personality, kim seokjin has it all.
and you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t palpitate in his presence even when you’re doing nothing but spending quality time, trying out new restaurants before your heart beats a different rhythm when he gets you behind closed doors.
you suck in a much needed breath of strength, “i’m just doing this because it’d be uncomfortable to sleep in those pants.”
your hand hovers above the bulge, quivering from your barely-held-together self-restraint as your fingers run over the shiny metallic buckle of his belt. but before you can even touch it, a hand clasps around your wrist and you feel frost seep into your bones.
it’s almost like the feeling of being caught red handed stealing cookies from the jar by your mother.
seokjin’s dark gaze settles on you like winter.
“i-i can explain, i wasn’t trying to nail you while you were drunk and unconsenting, i—“ you choke on your words as you feel yourself being pulled down and into a pair of muscular arms.
they’re warm and secure and surprisingly gentle. like a child holding onto his teddy bear as he sleeps.
seokjin’s velvety voice comes out hoarse but you can clearly make out the words he’s saying, “stay with me tonight.”
silence lulls in the shadows of your dimly lit room. seokjin’s steady heartbeat drums in your ears as he holds you against his chest. the warmth from his embrace doesn’t feel too much. it feels just right.
you yawn.
yeah, this feels just right.
when morning comes, you’re awoken by the sound of something loud hitting the ground. you grumble in curses, pulling the blanket over your head and turning the other side in hopes of putting whatever noise just now behind you. but then comes the next clang! and it sounds awfully close—like in-your-house kind of close.
the culprit of the noise is hunched over in your kitchen—it was a perfect fit for you but now it looks tiny and barely able to accommodate this giant of a man.
“whatcha doin’, daddy?” you ask just as the sound of glass scraping against glass hits the air.
seokjin turns to you with wide eyes—the kind of eyes of a man caught red handed. a second later, he’s yanking his hand away from the ground, hissing “ah, fuck!”
red oozes out of his index finger and you pad over quietly, tugging on his uninjured hand and making him sit on the stool you pulled out.
“i was trying to make coffee,” seokjin mumbles dejectedly.
he looks like the coffee machine insulted him by not working when he needed it to and when he tried tweaking it, he accidentally knocked over the mug and sent it crashing against the ground.
the first sound was the mug, the second one was a glass you left on the counter last night after drinking some water before secretary min knocked on your door and dumped a certain drunken man in your care. he knocked over that one in his fright of knocking over the pastel green mug that has cute cat ears on it.
“if i didn’t like you, i would’ve said you owed me a new coffee machine for breaking mine but i like you and the coffee machine broke yesterday while i was trying to make some coffee for myself.” you giggle.
you gently grasp his hand with yours, and guide his finger to your parted lips. the metallic taste of the blood makes you cringe but it goes away sooner rather than later. you run your tongue over his fingerpad, lapping over it until you’re sure that it stopped bleeding.
when you steal a glance through your lashes, you find yourself staring at a blushing kim seokjin. his face is tinted pink all the way to the tip of his ears and neck. your lips curl into a smile on their own. you push your hair to the back of your ear demurely, making sure to flutter your lashes twice before taking him in till his second knuckle.
the moment he audibly breathes in, you know you have him by the neck. but instead of giving into his desires like seokjin usually would, he presses his thumb on your bottom lip until you part your mouth enough for him to pull his finger, glistening with your saliva, out.
seokjin leans his head against yours and you’re reminded of the first night you spent together. he hasn’t done that once since then and for some reason, the mere fact that he’s came to you drunk, didn’t even try to fuck you in his drunken state when he should be horny as a bunny at the sight of you like he usually is and should be even more so with the influence of alcohol—sends a sense of trepidation in your heart.
you tilt your head ever so gently, brushing your lips with his. there’s no denying the flutter of your heart when he smiles against your lips but the sense of dread doesn’t go away when he kisses you—perhaps it’s because this kiss lingers longer than the kisses he gives you.
“i wanted to see you before i leave,” seokjin’s voice sounds heartbreakingly melodic to your ears.
he sometimes sings to you after you’re both spent and curled up against each other. but this time, it’s not the smooth velvety tone you want to hear. it’s—
“i’m free this sunday,” you offer.
it’s the kiss he places on your forehead and the trudge to your tiny storage door where you keep your broom—that makes your heart wretch inside your chest.
“do me a favor,” he says teasingly, “sit still and don’t move while i clean my mess.”
you have a habit of telling him to go sit somewhere whenever he makes a mess out of something in either yours or his place. it’s mostly because he proves that he’s only good with gadgets and answering calls while fucking you doggy style.
“alrighty, daddy,” you sing-song, skipping over to the couch where you can pretend to be on your phone while stealing glances at the giant who goes around, sweeping the floor and dumping the scattered glasses into a separate plastic bag before dumping that plastic bag into the bin.
seokjin smelled of floral mist—the bath & body work shower gel you keep in the bathroom—so once he’s done, there’s no enticing him for shower sex. and his self-restraint is surprisingly rock solid today so morning sex won’t work either—you tried with the finger-throating.
once he’s done, you’re standing in the doorway with the blazer secretary min placed on your couch before he wheezed out the door like the devil was after him. this feels oddly domestic—you holding the blazer for seokjin to put on and him, placing a kiss on each of your cheek like he doesn’t have a semi-erection painfully bulging in his pants.
“see you later,” is all seokjin says before he steps out of the door of your apartment.
to say you never saw your unanswered text and rejected phone calls coming, would be a big blatant lie.
two weeks later, you’re sighing for the third time of the day in the cafe at your college. seokjin stopped replying to your text on both imessage and sugarlite and you’re not one to grovel over a man’s feet—even if that man is kim seokjin and he makes your heart flutter.
“okay, what’s wrong?” kim jongin slams his chopsticks down with a hint of irritation and urgency.
“it’s nothing…” you trail off despite feeling all five pairs of eyes on you.
“we’re gonna say ‘oh come on, it’s not nothing when you’re sighing like a wife who knows her husband is cheating’ and you’re gonna say ‘it’s nothing’ for the second time and we’ll go on like this back and forth until you finally spill the tea so why don’t we just cut to the chase and get to the part where you do be spilling the hot mess of a tea?” hwang yeji goes off before she looks at you with a ‘you know i’m right’ look.
so you sigh again before finally bearing your worries and sorrows to your friends, “what does it mean when a guy you kinda had a thing with, comes to you drunk, doesn’t even try to cop a feel and then just disappears the next day?”
silence hovers over the table of six for the longest moment before jung wooyoung speaks, “he just needed a place to crash and a bolster.”
“nope,” shin yoona shakes her head in protest, “are we talking about an ex because it sounds like we’re talking about an ex?”
“yeah, sure, an ex,” you shrug, not really seeing the difference between being acquaintances and meeting again ten years later to fuck every chance you get as if you’re making up for lost time.
“that means he still loves you but he can’t be with you for some reason,” the auburn haired girl surmises.
“if you ask me, he sounds like a douche and a pussy,” lee chaeryeong says simply, digging into her spaghetti bologna.
“i know what can help with that,” jongin chirps, waving around a fry in your face as if it’s some fairy god mother’s wand.
him, yeji, yoona and chaeryeong are sharing a look you know too well. but you humor him anyway. “and that is?”
“club night!” yeji screams in your ear, her slender arms wrapped around your waist, squealing with excitement.
new year rolls around and marks the sixth month of the demise of your prolonged summer fling with kim seokjin which turned into the iciest winter too fast, too soon.
and on some nights, you lie awake in your bed, recollecting the times you spent with kim seokjin. whenever you’re not trying to seduce him while you’re out in public, you’re laughing your heart out over his unexpectedly good-but-bad dad jokes.
said night happens to be last night and you had to wake up at asscrack o’clock because your mother sent mr. jung to pick you up because you have dinner with the kim’s at eight and your family, namely you and your mother, has a tradition of spending five hours at a salon before the annual dinner.
so when you step out of your room after changing into a pastel pink dress and hear your dad roaring with laughter more than he usually would from the dining room with a “ah you really grew up to be your father’s son,”—you thought this was some bad, horrible, messed up dream.
“seokjin?” you feel your blood run cold as your stomach knots with unrest at the sight of the familiar face sitting across from your dad, facing the doorway where you’re standing.
he went easy on the hair gel tonight, letting his bangs cover his smooth forehead instead of having them slicked back like he usually would. and he foregone the blazer and vest—though he keeps the white button down underneath—for a beige sweater. round glasses perch perfectly on his nose and add to the casual, domestic look he’s going for.
the tinted bottle lying lonely on the table and the champagne glasses in your father and uncle kim’s hands tells you that they started drinking while waiting for dinner to be served. seokjin looks like 10 years have been taken off him with the white mickey mouse mike and chocolate malt drink of his.
“____, come help me with dinner,” your mother calls from the kitchen, unsuspecting of the tangible tension that hangs in the air as seokjin cast his gaze down to the hot chocolate mug that looks miniature in his hands but would need you to hold it with both hands because of its weight and how mugs are generally a bit big for you.
“but you have 10 helpers already crowding the kitchen.” you say unironically, watching the workers go back and forth behind your mother and auntie kim, carrying various plates of dishes.
silene lulls in the air for the longest moment as you feel eyes on you.
your dad is the first to break it, laughing, “____’s been stressed out with college lately, it’s her final year.”
“did she forget her manners in college too?” uncle kim backhandedly comments as the two elder men’s laughter fills the air.
that’s when a laugh forces its way out of you, cheeks hot with embarrassment and rage, “i didn’t expect seokjin-oppa to join us.”
“oh my, i didn’t tell you because i thought you’d know. you got closer recently, right?” your mother’s brows furrow with distress.
“yes, but seokjin-oppa must’ve forgot to tell me. he’s been super busy lately, right, oppa?” you shoot a faux smile at the aforementioned man’s way.
his unreadable dark eyes meet you for the briefest moment before he turns them to your mother, “luxean is expanding into the uk, telling ____ about coming home completely slipped my mind.” laughter trickles from his mouth, “guess, it makes for a great belated christmas surprise?”
“a very pleasant surprise,” you thank the gods that your voice doesn’t break as your words draw his gaze back to you, those enigmatic eyes boring into yours so you add, “oppa.”
“speaking of which, boy, when are you going to come over to jessom?” your father quizzes. jessom inc. is the company seokjin’s grandfather started and uncle kim took over after the old man died.
“there’s still a lot to do at luxean as the ceo before i can resign, uncle hwang,” is all the younger man offers, chuckling—even that sound feels natural.
it’s as if the girl he fucked for three months and ghosted isn’t standing 10 feet away from him, barely keeping her wits together.
“i’ve been trying to get him to join the team and he says this every damn time,” uncle kim sighs, tilting the wine glass to his mouth.
you end up joining your mother at the kitchen, standing in front of the chocolate mousse, running your fingerpad over the rounded edge as the sound of your mother and auntie kim not-so-discreetly gossip about some ha yeonhwa’s failed third marriage while your dad and uncle kim talk about the falling stocks of luxean. and all yet the sound of your heartbeat drowns out the conversation as you find yourself glaring at the one man who hasn’t spoken a word since the last time he was directly asked by your dad.
“when are you going to introduce your girlfriend to your pops and uncle, boy?”
seokjin shakes his head with a practiced smile on his lips, “i don’t have the time to date.”
‘cause you were busy fucking the girl you’re supposed to see as your little sister.’ the words teeter on your tongue but don't quite make it out.
the rage that lights up in the pit of your stomach doesn’t burn out even as you sit across seokjin once the helpers set up the table and what would have been a savory mouth-watering smell of the grilled kashmiri land is nothing but a slab of meat sitting in your plate. but you’ve managed to reign over your emotions enough not to explode in front of your family.
“can you pass me the salt, dad?” you ask, sickly sweet—a tone seokjin is no stranger to.
“thank you, daddy.” you smile at your dad who gazes over you with unsuspecting adoration—he’s probably glad that you’re back to yourself again.
that is, until the sound of someone choking draws his attention. kim seokjin has hand clasped over his mouth as his shoulderline shakes while he coughs.
“are you okay, oppa?” you flutter your lashes, making sure your brows knit with concern.
despite his coughing fit, he struggles to nod, a hand held up to say he just needs a moment. uncle kim indicates for one of the helpers to pour some water for his son before he hands it over to seokjin, hand patting his back like that’ll help.
the rest of the dinner goes by without a hitch. the smiles and giggles that pour out of your mouth are uncannily well crafted. then comes the post-dinner drinking session where uncle kim would usually get himself drunk and slurring and bawling over his estranged son.
but since seokjin suddenly came back—you suspect some time after he started ghosting you—uncle kim has been holding his liquor pretty well. him and auntie kim have been smiling more too, sitting side by side on the white couch, uncle kim’s arm is around auntie kim’s shoulder. the cordial atmosphere is possibly what makes your father compliment your mother’s beauty and her giggling bashfully, calling him an “old sap”. pun intended.
you rise from your seat in the one-person couch, heading over to the kitchen where you pop another bottle of wine, fill the glass up to the brim and down the fizzy golden alcohol once before strutting over to the hallway where the game room lies.
but before your perfectly manicured nails brush the handle of the door, it twists and the door swings open, revealing a surprised-looking kim seokjing.
your name spills out of his lush lips without him realizing it. the astonishment flashes across your eyes for the briefest moment before you notice the phone in his hand with its screen still lit. seokjin has been gone for the last 15 minutes after he excused himself for a phone call.
“i borrowed the game room since it’s soundproof for a call from work, hope you don’t mind.” he says with far too much ease, you feel your eyebrow twitching.
those thick brows are ever so relaxed while yours are furrowed as if you’re born like that. yet you take in one deep, much needed breath and exhale. placing the champagne glass on the tall black console pressed up against the wall—the helpers will get that once they do a last sweep before going home—and turn on your heels, the clicking sound echoing in the air.
“w-wait, wait—!” a voice calls from where you left a gawking kim seokjin.
a moment later, fingers curl around your wrist and stop you in your trek but you yank your hand back, twirling around and shoving him against the wall. those darkened eyes widen seokjin’s mouth parts and snaps shut twice before he breathes out, startled yet awed.
“what?” you spit out, hands pressed up against the wall on both sides of his shoulders which seem to be rising up just the slightest bit.
“you look great,” there’s a sort of tremble in seokjin’s voice—the only time he ever chokes on his words is when you’re on top of him. it always gets him.
you roll your eyes, “that’s a fact. tell me something i don’t know but deserve to.”
“we should go in first,” he tilts his head towards the ajar door of the game room.
“i’m good,” you shrug.
seokjin’s stare bore into you for the longest time before he finally sighs, his breath fanning your face gently.
“i know what i did could get me an award for the worst man you’ve ever known.” he begins and you scoff.
“the audacity to think you deserve an award.” you blink as though surprised before shaking your head with an unfazed expression, “appalling, truly.”
his lips press into a thin line as his brows knit together almost painfully, gaze clouded with unspoken words. there’s a sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and slap his dumb handsome face all at once. but you grit your teeth, seething silently as you keep him trapped between you and the wall.
a sense of deja vu washes over you.
yet instead of looking back at the night in the bar with revered melancholy, your heart thumps and writhes in your chest as it heaves from the sporadic inhale and exhale of air. that is, until you feel all the energy in your body drain and your hands fall to your sides. you feel the soft fuzzy material of seokjin’s sweater on your skin as you lay your head on his shoulder.
“you fucking idiot,” you want to scream but it comes out barely above whisper.
“i know,” he murmurs back.
his hand is warm on your back and his other hand is gently combing through your hair. you stay like that, in the silence of your breathing and the distant echo of laughter down the hallway, here but separate from the world.
“will you ever tell me?” you ask because—“ it’s okay if you don't want to explain and it’s okay if you’ll leave without saying anything but i don’t think i’ll be able to live  like this never happened and go on to be the almost-like-family our parents want us to be.”
but seokjin sighs and it sounds like a man who’s taken off his armor.
“my dad found out about us. i don’t know how but he showed up that night,” he doesn’t need to explain which night ‘that night’ was; seokjin came to you drunk and held you all night like you’re his world, “asked me to at least go for a drink with ‘this old man that’s not got much time left in the world’. showed me a picture of you and me hugging in front of your apartment and told me if i don’t come back, he’ll tell uncle hwang.”
his shoulder line rises and falls as sighs heavily.
at that, you tear yourself off him, eyes fierce and mind clearer than it ever was, “i fucking knew it! you couldn’t have left me because i’m me—i’m perfect. but uncle kim—i always knew he was a sly fox.” you mull audibly, hand on your chin, nibbling your bottom lip as if you’d chew that man’s head off if not for the repercussions of doing so.
seokjin blinks. once. lush lips parted as he stares at you with a mixture of disbelief and relief, “you’re not… mad?”
“no, i was really mad and—and i wanted to slap you but i didn’t,” you coo, cupping his cheeks, “because look at this handsome face.”
seokjin’s  shoulderline sags, as if the tons of weight of his shoulders have been lifted, his adam’s apple bobs as though he’s about to say praise to the gods but before he can say anything, you’re already gripping both of his wrists with all your might.
“let’s get rid of him.” you announce, eyes glinting.
“sorry—what?” seokjin blinks, brows rising, all the gentleness in them replaced with confusion, “i don’t like my dad either but i’m not about to commit—”
“then,” you guide his hands to cup your soft ample breasts, “i’ll be able to fuck whenever i want.”
“you mean ‘we’ll be able to fuck whenver we want’.” he recovers quickly, copping a feel of your breasts, a familiar lustrous gleam in his eyes.
just as the sound of voices echoing louder in the hallway, you say, “seokjin, do you trust me?”
it takes moment for him to study your expression, the fanatical playfulness has disappeared, replace with a sort of unshaken resolve if so much as says—
“with all my life.”
and with that, you stand on the tip of your toes, hands grabbing a handful of his shirt before pulling him in and crashing your lips together. he tastes like vanilla and chocolate from the mousse you had for dessert.
for some reason he’s turned down both the 1989 cabernet sauvignon twice, once during dinner and another time when everyone sat down in the common find yourself licking his lips, imploring. a delighted sigh escapes your lips when seokjin’s mouth parts, his tongue brushing against the tip of your own pink organ but before you can go further than this, a shrill tears your eardrums apart.
“kim seokjin! hwang ____!
auntie kim stands at the other end of the hallway, eyes rounded and jaws on the ground. there’s a garnet stain on her chest, a glaring difference to the peach pastel color of her dress. but it couldn’t compare to the crimson on her face—if you squint, you think you see smoke coming out of her ears.
“oops,” you mumble, hand on your mouth as you blink innocently.
yet it’s the hand on your waist that makes your heart stutter in your chest. he leans down, his fresh, marine cologne filling your senses, his breath on your neck is hot, “if we walk out of here unscathed, you’re deleting the sugarlite app in front of me.”
you make a sound between a snort and a scoff, “the audacity is impeccable, kim seokjin.”
“you two! to the common room. right now.” auntie kim’s nose flares as she orders—the fact that you just laughed in her face after getting caught french kissing her son is probably part of the reason.
“what—how—i can’t do this,” auntie kim sniffles, heart on his chest as the other massages her temple.
it looks like the shock just added 10 years to her age.
you sit next to seokjin on the three person couch while the elders sit in front of you. auntie kim is on the one-person sofa with uncle kim leaning against the side of the sofa, his eyes focused on your every movement like an eagle sizing up a little rat. if you squint, you think you see his nose flaring. your father is leaned up against the console adjacent to you, his expression unreadable and your mother is sitting next to auntie kim, jaw dropped to the ground.
seokjin sits in poised elegance next to you, brows set in a strong unwavering line, making his eyes all the more forbidding.
“are you sure, sunghee?” your father asks slowly, his voice raspier than usual.
“i saw them shoving their  tongues in each other’s mouths for heaven’s sake, i may be old but i’m not blind, daesong.” she snaps.
the room falls silent once again as your mother’s quivering voice hits the air, “i… how long has this been going on?”
she looks up at you, eyes glittering like shattered pieces of glass. you would be lying if you said your heart isn’t palpitating in your chest. yet you’re unsure if it’s remorse or hurt because she’s looking at you as though you’ve committed the worst crime: tainting the family’s honor.
“six months.” seokjin says firmly, “ever since we started getting in touch again.”
the implication of you being in a relationship—is this even that though? you’re not sure—from the moment you first started talking again causes your mother to let out a woeful sob.
“and,” you place a hand on seokjin’s hand that’s resting on his thigh, making him turn to you as he places his free hand on top of your hand that’s on the one on his thigh, “three weeks since we found out we’re pregnant.”
all of a sudden, a weep echoes in the room and you think you hear the sound of something breaking somewhere. yet seokjin’s expression remains uncannily neutral. the only indication he’s surprised is the way his dark gaze lights up with surprise yet before you can confirm whether that minuscule twinkle in his eyes is felicity, your father grabs seokjin by the shirt and swings his fist right into seokjin’s handsome face.
“dad!” that’s the first real scream that erupted from you.
seokjin heaves out an antagonized sigh, face contorting with pain and the impact of the blow. but he doesn’t even dodge the second one even if he saw it coming, staring right into your father’s eyes.
and he would get a third blow if not for you.
“stop! uncle kim knows too!” you shriek just as your father raises his fist once more, his blood-flecked eyes burning with rage but for a different reason now, “uncle kim knows and threatened oppa to come home or he’ll tell you about us!”
“daesong, i—i didn’t tell you because the kids looked so happy together,” uncle kim pushes himself off the armrest and stands almost defensively as lies pour out of his mouth.
unfortunately for him, he’s a man.
a sob leaves your lips as you suppress the rest of your sniffles with a hand clasped against your mouth, “uncle kim forced us to break up even though we tried explaining. just now was a mistake,” you watch seokjin’s bruised face turn to you in your periphery, the wince washed away by your weeping declaration, “seokjin was ready to leave everything behind but i—i couldn’t bear to give the child up for adoption and when we met today—i’m sorry, i kissed you.” you look into seokjin’s stricken eyes, your vision blurred with crocodile tears.
“don’t be sorry,” seokjin says calmly, his hand twitches to touch caress your face but you father yanks him away from you.
“because he’s going to get married to chae seoyeon!” uncle kim’s voice rises in a mix of ludicrosity and frustration, “and the baby—is it even seokjin’s?”
chae soyeon. that’s not a foreign name. there’s only one chae family who has a daughter at a marriageable age with a legacy of a hundred years behind her.
“namjung, you…” you father trails off, hands falling to his side as he turns to stand directly in front of uncle kim.
upon his release, seokjin finds his way to your side, his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into him. it’s almost as though he’s trying to shield you away from his father and the world.
“dad, that’s enough.” seokjin says calmly but his voice is ridden with icicles—you feel a chill go down your spine.
it doesn’t take a genius to know that he willingly let your dad hit him. if seokjin wanted to, he would’ve been able to throw both of your fathers off him if they came at him together.
you glare tearfully at the elder man, “i’m sorry, uncle kim, you may be older and the father of my child’s dad but—i can’t let you insult me like this.”
“insult—!” uncle kim echoes in disbelief, “if you hadn’t been such a sly fox—“
“watch your mouth, namjung, that’s my daughter you’re talking about.” your father interjects, his voice chilling your bones.
“oh, as if you don’t know what that minx is capable of.” auntie kim laments.
“____ is nine years younger than seokjin! he should’ve known better than to let this go on the moment he starts developing feelings for a girl he’s supposed to be taking care of like a little sister!” your mother shoots up from her seat, glaring down at the woman she once called her best friend.
“she’s not a baby to be taken care of, heck, she’s old enough to have a baby of her own!” uncle kim shoots a look at your mother, as if saying this it’s preposterous for a girl way over 20 to be looked after.
“you would know, wouldn’t you?” your father laughs drily.
“what does that even mean, daesong?” uncle kim hisses, challenging even.
“your mistress is younger than your son but that didn’t stop you from impregnating her, did it?” the words pour out of your father’s mouth and demand silence throughout the house.
“oof.” you breathe out, tears dried up—they say the fake ones don’t last longer than a minute.
“the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” your father laughs again.
you thought it couldn’t get worse than this. but it’s when uncle kim launches himself in your father’s direction, that all hell breaks loose. time seems to stand still for one whole solid minute as everyone’s eyes grow wider as the two elderly, gout stricken, arthritis suffering men go at each other. there’s a sound of bones breaking as uncle kim throws a punch in your father’s direction and the latter tries to take a step back but freezes for whatever reason, causing him to receive uncle kim’s blow square in the face.
seokjin jumps in to stop the fathers but he ends up getting punched in the face twice—albeit the impact is lesser because the two men seem to be getting weary by the second.
in the end, one ends up on the one person sofa—auntie kim stood up to let uncle kim take her seat while lamenting about his bad knee. your father is taken to your mother’s study because she hogs the first aid kit to herself after pricking herself with the needle of the sewing machine.
she prefers breathing life to her designs at home rather than at the company.
one of the helpers is dabbing alcohol on uncle kim’s bruising face as he groans every time the cotton touches his skin.
you and seokjin are waiting for your turn to receive one of the first aid kits—either the one with your parents or his—in the kitchen. he’s pressing a bag of ice on that bruising area just along his jaw.
most of the helpers have been dismissed and the two that stayed have been helping out since you were a toddler so they would at least have a sense of loyalty—enough not to go telling everyone about the fiasco that just transpired.
“is it true? you’re pregnant?” seokjin asks softly, afraid that any louder, his father will come marching into the kitchen at the hint of uncertainty in seokjin’s inquiry.
“you literally saw me down a glass full of wine,” you point out.
his shoulder line sags as he lets out a despondent sigh. he reaches for your hand that’s on your lap and guides your knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently as if they’re the ones bruised black and blue.
the glimmer in his dark eyes linger still. it’s like they’re made just for you—to admire your existence and to trap your reflection in them as seokjin’s gaze meets yours.
“i’m sorry… for not talking things out with you.” he murmurs, remorse tugging on the muscles of his handsome face, “i was more scared that they’d keep us apart if they knew so i chose to live as a brother to you than a stranger.”
kim seokjin looks less like the intimidating, firm-as-a-rock ceo you reunited with six months ago. and it’s not the sweater that seems to swallow up his build nor the tousled, ungelled hair that softly brushes against his eyebrow. it’s the way those eyes look at you that reminds you of the midnight reflection of the lake behind your holiday villa.
once upon a summer vacation, you used to drag seokjin out in the middle of the night, claiming to look for shooting stars. and seokjin being the supposedly brotherly figure he was, followed you with eyes half-awake, tone dripping with doubt as he tried to persuade you to go back into the villa. there was no dashing meteor that crossed the sky but you wished for something anyway.
you wish everyone would be happy.
such simple times were bound to cease.
it was around then that uncle kim’s mistress made a scene at seokjin’s home with fire and fury and a 5-year-old kid hiding timidly behind her. you were too young to understand back then, but seokjin suddenly said he wanted to stay with his grandparents’ for summer and you declared you should go to your family’s holiday villa with you before that.
that was the last summer you spent together.
your deep mulling comes to a stop as you blink, schooling a well-practiced poker face. so much so, seokjin, the one that’s much calmer and more collected than you, is nibbling his bottom lip.
“you have a whole lifetime to make it up to me,” you teasingly say.
seokjin’s eyes grow wider, glinting with a hint of surprise.
“what? i’m quite the catch, you know?” you playfully quiz and he finally blinks, escaping from the reigns of stupor that tugs on his ankles.
the sound of angels’ hymn drums in your ears as seokjin laughs, shaking his head. his free hand that’s not holding the ice, guides the back of your hand to his lips. he kisses your hand once. twice. thrice and plenty more times until you’re squealing from the ticklish feeling of his lips brushing against your oversensitized skin.
when you try to pull your hand back, seokjin resumes his assault on your left cheek, your right cheek, and then your forehead and finally finds his way to your lips. you used to wish upon the gods that the palpitation of your heart is audible only to you. but as you wrap your arms around seokjin’s neck to deepen the kiss, you think you wouldn’t mind bearing your heart for this man to own.
seokjin comes back a few hours after he left with his parents, parked his car on the curb, walked up to the miniature door on the side of the gate and gathered you up in his embrace the moment that door swung open.
you giggle as you wrap your arms around him, feeling your feet get swept off the ground whilst your legs band around his waist, “you miss me so much, yet you have the balls to ignore my texts and calls?”
seokjin sighs softly burying his face in your chest, his voice muffled, “i’m sorry.”
that’s the third time he’s apologized today and with each ‘i’m sorry’ you think you hear his voice going weak.
you hum, fingers combing through his hair and brushing against the tip of his ear ever so slightly—smiling coquettishly at the shivers that vibrates through his body.
the first time you teasingly bite his ear while he was working, you ended up being fucked against the coffee table with your ass in the air as he spoke on the phone, voice completely cooled and collected.
“it’s okay,” you shrug simply, smile tugging higher as you lean closer to his ear, “i like your balls—i like licking them while i give you a handjob. i miss…” you trail off, giggling at the faint sound of seokjin’s guttural sigh, “your dick.”
it takes a moment for you to loosen your legs around him to tell him to let you go. albeit with a silent protest. still, you tug on seokjin’s hand with an index finger on your lips as you make a shushing sound, “everyone’s asleep but we should be quiet.”
yet when you’re about to take your first step towards the doors of your house, you find yourself tumbling backwards at the unmoving force that’s gripping your hand.
“i only came here to see you,” even underneath the dim lights attached to the gate, you can see the war raging in his eyes.
throwing your gaze down, you lift a dubious brow but look back at him without saying anything.
and seokjin seems to have the same idea as you, “it’s your family home. i used to come here every year for new year and pretend to play with your dolls to keep you entertained while dinner got served.”
‘that was twenty-years ago,’ your attitude tells you to roll your eyes but the way seokjin’s clouded gaze bores into you makes the words die in your throat.
it hasn’t been a day since he got punched in the face and sporting a bruise from said punch that your father, a man seokjin looks up to as a paternal figure, gave. whether it’s guilt or respect that’s holding him back, you’re not sure but all you know is, underneath the flames that flickers and dances in your core—all you want is to be with seokjin.
you just have a more physical inclination.
so you close the distance between you and him, the tip of your shoes brushing against the other while you hug his waist. he returns your hug almost instantly. it’s as if wrapping his arms around you where you’re in close proximity with him has become a habit.
“i’m fucking scared, ____,” seokjin says, barely above whisper, “my dad’s blackmail isn’t the only reason i left—i’m scared—i’m fucking terrified that i’ll end up hurting you like he hurt my mom.”
for the longest moment, words fail you. all you hear is the sound of your blood rushing in your ears and the thump of your heart against the constraints of your rib cages. emotions and heart-to-hearts have never been your forte. your parents too were lacking in that department.
“honestly, i don’t know what to say—except maybe this: you came to the wrong person to unpack that trauma, buddy. i mean, i act like a spoiled little brat who goes around being pretty and sits still like a marionette just so i won’t have to deal with my lack of skills in handling my emotions.” you half-heartedly joke and you hear seokjin let out a sound between a chuckle and a sigh.
“and that’s exactly what i’m going to do—i’ll stick with you like a leech—because sticking to you like annabelle means i’ll be locked up in a glass case and that’s not close enough—and i’ll trust you until you get bored of me and decide to throw me away.“
seokjin’s chuckle—a real one—is what warms your heart and makes you snuggle into his chest.
“if my life was filled with hwang ____ every day, i don’t think i'd ever get bored,” his arms around you hug you a little tighter and you’re warmed by his body heat as you chuckle to yourself, “and i’d rather damn myself to hell before i ever let go of you.”
“thank you, daddy, for coming to see me.”
in that moment, you feel seokjin’s body harden under your touch.
“what was that thing? at dinner?” seokjin asks out of the blue.
“what was what?” you look up at him, fluttering your lashes innocently.
the complexity of emotions flashing across his face makes you giggle. and that’s when kim seokjin put two and two together: that you saying that same exact phrase to your father at dinner wasn’t just a slip of a tongue—it was meant to shake up seokjin’s very foundation.
and it worked just as you wanted it to.
seokjin wanted to slap himself when he first heard it spoken so unsuspectingly—he thought he was the wicked one for picturing you naked with your eyes half-closed with your hand against your mouth as you suppressed your moans. all the while, you were looking at him with pure concern in your eyes while he was coughing his lungs out.
“speaking of daddies, we need to figure out how to fake a miscarriage,” you bring him out from his train of thoughts and seokjin finds himself clearing his throat in hopes it would push back the explicit image of your bare body and pleasured expression that involuntarily made its way to the back of his mind.
“or,” you smile, pushing yourself up against him and making sure your hardened nipples graze his chest ever so gently, “i can go to my doctor to get my iud taken out so you can put a baby inside me.”
“don’t.” seokjin almost begs, one hand rubbing his eyes, “don’t tempt me, please.”
you giggle, holding up a palm in the air with your fingers stretched apart, “five days—i bet we’ll be seeing double red lines in five days if we keep going like that time you took a week off work and i had a one week break.”
“fuck,” seokjin hisses almost painfully before his eyes search yours with unrestrained clarity, “when are you going back to seoul?”
“the day after tomorrow but i can tell my parents something came up and go home tomorrow.”
“i’ll pick you up at 8?” he offers but you shake your head, no.
“they’re a little… sensitive after the whole thing at dinner. i’ll have to let mr. jung drive me back so they know i’m not going on little detours—which is dumb because mr. jung could drop me off in front of my apartment building and i could pretend to go in, wait out for a few hours before leaving for my not-so-secret baby daddy’s place.”
seokjin’s lips curl at the word you call him before brows twitch just the slightest bit. it’s as if the thought of not being able to see you as soon as morning comes and drive back to seoul with you, physically pains him. but his facial expression eases as you peck him on the lips.
“i’ll wait for you at your place?” he says.
“sure,” you grin, “the new passcode is 3-0-2-9-6 by the way.”
“you changed your passcode? i mean— good good. that’s what you’re supposed to do after some douche who knows your passcode left you hanging high and dry.” his bangs brush against his smooth forehead as he nods even though there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes—or maybe it was regret.
“see you soon,” you place a one last kiss on seokjin’s naturally puckered lips. it’s gentle and sweet and unlike the other kisses you’ve shared.
when you pull apart, you can feel the slightest pressure around your waist where seokjin’s arm is—almost as if he doesn’t want to let go but decides against it. he’ll see you in a few hours but even a minute apart from you feels like a century long. and he’s got a lot of making up to do.
your hands on his waist fall to your side and his index finger curls around your own first finger, wordlessly pleading for borrowed time.
the urge to wrap your hands around this man’s slender waist isn’t easily disregarded yet you turn on your heels anyway because you know if you falter, you’d never be able to let him go even if you’re going to meet again in a few hours.
“i can’t believe we’re both adults but still can’t do whatever we want,” you huff, tossing your backpack on the couch and leaving your luggage next to said couch.
the delicious savory smell of the rice cake soup boiling on the stove while seokjin is placing down a plate of kimchi dumplings on the counter.
the sight of him with a light pink apron with a frilly heart-shape top half never ceases to ma