Kim Seokjin Fic Recs
‼️18+ minors DNI, if you choose to anyways, PLEASE be careful. try to heed our warnings, we have them for a reason‼️
More Recs Here
he’s insanely good looking your honour
[not in any particular order] [if any users would like me to remove their post from this list please let me know and i will do so immediately!]
thank you daddy @ktheist 19k
sugar daddy!seokjin, WHEEWWW, small angst, hella smut tho LOLL, 9 YEAR AGE GAP!, they’re both horny fucks,
fast lane @yminie 20.6k
racer!seokjin, enemies2lovers, angst, smut !!!!!short depictions of car accidents!!!!!, jin is a PLAYA, reader really hates his guts LOLL
cherry topper @kth1 17.6k
friends2lovers, longtime pining, college!au, reader works at his family’s candy shop :)) fluff, angst, SMUT, reader is dense as hell LOLL
every year @another-army-spot 15.6k
childhood bff2L, chef!seokjin, a yearly new year’s eve party!!, hard fluff, smutty angst, they both grew up hella rich.
final sleigh @floralseokjin 23.3k
coworkers, e2l, reader very much hates seokjin LOLLL, forced proximity fanfic 🤭🤭 smut, fluff(?), angst in Y/N is petty LMAO, it’s christmas!
stuck with you @taleasnewastime 29.6k
strangers2lovers, reader is grumpy :(, they’re stuck in a city they don’t want to be in, Jin is a raining ball of sunshine, angst, smut, fluff, angst. happy ending :)
MENTIONS OF DEATH!
small tuna fish @floralseokjin 17.1k
college!au, jin is a GOOD nice guy, he’s so jinny, FLUFF x10000, smut too LOL, jin is a cutie, he’s inexperienced, there’s a charity car wash too 🤪
warm this winter @jamaisjoons 51.6k
s2l, this was so cute, jk is such a dumbass, but it’s okay seokjin is here to save the day. fluff, angst, SMUT. it just smacks u in the fuckin face.
lost and found @taleasnewastime 21.2k
s2l, seokjin owns a silly lil shop cuz he’s a silly lil guy, reader was cheated on, fluff, angst, they’re so cute. jimin is there too! oneshot.
you guys don’t understand how fucking much i love this story. i’ve re-read it more times than i can count. i think about this Jin once a week
made up love song @floralseokjin series
dilf!seokjin, teacher!reader, arin is saur cute, angsty :(, but fluffy!!! n very smutty, lots of fluff with arin, seokjins ex >:(
turn back time @raplinesmoon 13.3k
seokjin accidentally fast forwards time, smut, angsty fluff, reader is a doctor, JIN POPS A SEMI 💀💀💀💀
sit. stay. @daechwitatamic 14k
dog owners!!!, they live in the same building, jin just wants to help MC, miscommunication :(, fluff, angst, smut, more fluff. literally. cuz dogs. i love this jinnie sooo much
the ikea test @yoon-bug 9.1k
they’re dating, hoseok was right 💀, reader gets upset with seokjin, jin saves the day!!, and then screws the HELL out of MC, so.. smut, fluff too :)
last november @kithtaehyung 24.7k 😭😭
god. exes2l, angst and um oh more angst, smut, all ends well, they’re on a holiday trip with tha gang.
ryen NEVER misses. masterpiece after masterpiece.
the platonic collection @joheunsaram mini series
FWB2L, MC is kinda… she’s kinda dense LOL, seokjin is a cutie, smut, fluff
off limits @floralseokjin series
brothers best friend!seokjin, they’re hiding :(, FWB2L, angst angst angst, yoongi gets puNCHED, smut, readers brother is overprotective, lil fluff
don’t go baking my heart @candlewaxandp0lar0ids 14.7k
i don’t think u understand i love this seokjin. JK is a cutie, S2L, jinnie owns a bakery and is the master of puns, kinda angsty, fluff, they’re also IDIOTS. lil smut
cupids on holiday @persphonesorchid 17k
cupid!seokjin, fluff, angst :(, smut, E2L?? ily jin. but i HATE U. but ily.
all i don’t want for christmas is you @minisugakoobies 23.7k
coworkers AU!, E2L, crack, fluff, smut, jin has a big… ego.. y’all. Y/N pisses me the hell off, but they’re SO CUTE 😭
glazed and dazed @floralseokjin 30.3k
um. PORNSTAR SEOKJIN. thank you that’s all, jk, seokjin ☹️, obviously smut, but they’re fluffy n cute i promise.
the devil wears armani @floralseokjin 65k series
WHEW this one is a doozy, devil!jin, jimin is there too, very much smut smut smut, angsty, fluffy, seokjin has a soft spot.
like i said at the end of my last fic rec post, if any of you have recommendations for me, please send them through!! my inbox is OPEN and i am always looking for more things to read!!! 🫶🫶
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Could you write a scenario about how the boys would kiss/makeout their s/o if you're comfortable with that? If not, I totally understand.
BTW, I'm glad you don't write smut. It's really hard to find good non-smut bts fanfics. It's not even that I don't enjoy reading them I just don't want to read it all of the time.😓
how they would kiss you (ot7)
authors note: sorry for not answering sooner. im totally comfortable with this, thank you sweetie! this is a little suggestive!!
⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°
🧷 jungkook
He loves to give you forehead kisses, mostly when you two cuddle. He presses his lips against your soft skin and hums softly.
He holds you close to him and doesn't let go until he feels the need to (unless you wanna) he just loves you too much.
He also loves to peck your lips; pressing his pink lips against yours before he leaves for work, before bed, before anything he does. He can't leave the house without showing you his love.
"I love you sweetie." He presses his lips against your forehead and breathes softly.
You giggle, "I love you too."
"Why do you look upset?" He asks, seeing you furrow your brows a little. He knows when you feel upset, he can't help but take charge of the matter.
You shrug, "can I have another kiss?"
He chuckled and grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him he kisses your forehead again and then moves to your lips.
"My sweet baby-"
🧷 namjoon
He definitely likes to show you his affection and his praise by kissing your neck from behind. You could be doing dishes, the laundry, making the bed. Any basic thing where he can access you, and he'll slip a kiss on your neck.
He gently pulls you back as he puts his arms around your waist, pressing his palms on your lower abdomen and belly. He moves your hair aside before kissing your skin.
"Namjoon-" you gasp.
He chuckled deeply, "shh, it's just me." He puts his lips on the back of your neck, kissing the skin softly.
"You're so courageous. I'm doing laundry!" You try to argue, not actually wanting to fight.
He hums, "shut it, give me a kiss-"
🧷 jin
He's shy, but he definitely loves a slow, passionate kiss with his hands caressing your hair, pulling you in for a deeper kiss.
He holds you close and occasionally picks you up in bridal style just to make you laugh. He loves to be romantic. And that could mean many things. He makes a candle lit dinner and covers the bed and bath with rose petals.
He can't find any other way to express his love for you, considering how shy and flustered he gets.
He picks you up, "come here-"
"Jin!" You were taken by surprise when he picked you up. He nuzzles his nose into the dip of your collarbone making you giggle. "What are you doing."
"I have a surprise." He carries you to the bedroom and opens the door. There were candles everywhere and a path of roses all over the floor. Leading to various places.
You gasp, "baby- this is beautiful."
"All for you and me." He kisses you passionately, pressing his body against yours.
🧷 jimin
He likes to nibble your skin...it seems very outlandish. But he can't help but make you laugh by showing you his love.
He nibbles gently on your ear, your neck, your lips...anything he can. He usually presses a kiss where he has bitten down to soothe your skin.
Another thing he loves to do is sit you in his lap, letting you face him. You two usually do this in his studio or somewhere private or public. You two don't care who sees you.
"Jimin, you're gonna leave a mark." You sigh, trying not to laugh. You feel his teeth sink into your skin, almost, practically leaving a little red mark.
He lets out a groan, "so? That way everyone knows you're mine."
You gasp and slap his shoulder, shocked at his boldness. "Shut up-"
"Baby, we both know you love it." He kisses your skin and feels the heat radiating off of your shy, nervous body.
🧷 hobi
He's into a little food play. He loves to slip a strawberry between your lips and pull you close. Savoring everything he can.
He comes in for a kiss, but before he gets to your lips, he takes a bite of what he had put in your mouth.
He kisses you, tasting the sweetness of you and the strawberry combined, "mmh-"
"Hobi, you're so naughty." You mutter between his kisses, pulling back a little.
He pulls you back into his arms, "oh, but you love that."
He lends you another kiss before humming once more at the sweet taste. And this isn't the only thing he likes to do, it's just a little generic thing he does when you two share a snack.
🧷 taehyung
Eskimo kisses are his favorite!! He loves to rub his nose on your cheeks and see how red they get due to how well he makes you blush.
He adores seeing you shy, but not anxious and nervous around him. He wants you to trust him, he'd never hurt you, nor would he do anything against your will.
He pulls you in, pressing his hands on your lower back. One hand occasionally rests on top of your bum (he's a cheesy mf) as he rubs his nose on your face.
"Mmh, darling-" he mutters breathlessly. He leaves you all flustered for no good reason.
You get embarrassed, "Taehyung..."
He breathes, "shh, let me take care of you hm?"
🧷 suga
Hear me out...he definitely grabs you (gently) by the back of the neck and pulls you into a kiss.
He keeps you still by squeezing your neck and pulling your hair gently, pulling you deeper into the kiss.
He also loves to let out soft slurs as he kisses you, praising you as he makes out with you slow and passionate.
"You're so beautiful-" he kisses your lips, bringing his away just to push them back down on you again.
You breathe, "S-suga-"
"Aw, got you all shy now?" He teases you.
Icon combo by me
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a way to wake | ksj
you're fast asleep and seokjin has to wake you up... an old method he used on his friend eventually comes to mind
description/tags/note: seokijn drabble / fluff + suggestive / established relationship / i had this idea in my head for a while, ever since i found out how jin used to wake up jungkook when they were younger... and i ended up writing the whole thing while stuck in traffic on a random afternoon / i am actively working on til you make it 2 whenever i have the time! i'm glad i took my time with it, i improved it in all this time and am still thinking of ways to improve it little by little / also, i often get ideas or scenarios in my head that could be mini pieces, not even a drabble - some are barely even 500 words. would you guys be interested in stuff like that? lmk!! / anyways, enjoy!! / edit: i edited this fic to make it even more suggestive. they both hint at yn wanting jin to wake her up by touching her.
wc: ~1.3k words
Seokjin didn’t have it in him. You were sleeping so peacefully beside him, as you had through all seven of your alarms, likely finally getting in a good rest after many sleepless nights… and he had to disturb it?
He knew he didn’t really have a choice - you were already running late. It wasn’t going to be a problem for Seokjin really, after you both showered, it’d only take him a couple more minutes at most to change into his suit. You, on the other hand, always needed some extra time to get ready, and that ‘extra’ time was getting shorter and shorter the more he let you sleep.
You’d want him to wake you up, he knew that for certain, as well as the fact that you would probably scold him as well as yourself for your sleeping in. That reminder is what finally got him to nudge and rub your shoulder.
“Jagiya?”
He repeats the action numerous times, raising the volume of his voice every time, but still, you slept.
“Honey,” he calls with a laugh, tickling your side, belly, and thigh. Your elbow twitches once, but never again despite him repeating the action over and over again. “We need to leave soon. You need to wake up now, darling.”
Nothing.
He gets up to pull open a bit of the curtains, letting sunlight stream in and disrupt the darkness of your bedroom.
Still, nothing.
Frustrated now, Seokjin pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo of you sleeping - just for himself - before opening up the music app. He plays clips of several songs, and all you do is wince, sleeping through them as you did your alarms.
“Are you faking it?” he asks aloud to your sleeping body. “Jagi… if you’re faking sleep, I swear I won’t eat you out tonight. I’m serious.”
Nothing.
That definitely would’ve done it if you were faking sleep. Really, you had no reason to fake it - you'd panic at the mere thought of running late - but Seokjin couldn’t eliminate the possibility entirely. You could be a bit of a brat at times.
He half considers physically pulling you out of bed, throwing a plushie at you, or emptying a water bottle on you, until he remembers a failsafe. A way that couldn’t hurt you like manhandling could, nor anger you with wet pajamas and sheets.
Jungkook’s way.
Seokjin giggles to himself at the thought. He had never tried it on any of his exes in the past, just Jungkook, really. It wasn't uncommon for boys to do such a thing at that age, especially when they were playfully roughhousing, which, with Jungkook, happened every day and at any time of day. Seokjin always had the edge by starting off Jungkook's days just like that - it always did the trick... And considering the other similarities you shared with Seokjin's younger friend, it wasn’t something to dismiss entirely.
Slowly, he turns you until you’re lying entirely on your back against the mattress, facing the ceiling with shut eyes. He moves from his position next to you until he’s over you, straddling your body with a knee planted on either side of your hips. He never took on this position with Jungkook of course, and almost started regretting it already - you felt too good.
“Jagi,” he whispers, pulling away the blanket from your body and letting his hand graze the skin at your collarbone and your stomach by the hem of your pajama top. He kisses your neck once, calling your name. It was the final chance he'd give you before he’d pull the trigger.
And you didn’t budge.
He sighs in defeat, not holding back his smile any longer when he sees your hardened nipples peak through the thin fabric of your top. Ready. Just for him.
With his index finger and thumb on both hands, Seokjin pinches and fiddles with your raised buds for mere seconds before you shoot up, finally awake.
“Wh?! W..what the fuck?! Jin!” you yell, wriggling underneath your fiancé’s body as he laughs, tumbling over you.
“I can’t believe that worked,” he says between his giggles, stopping only when you lazily reach towards his chest. “YA! I only did that to wake you up. You slept through your alarms, bub. We’re running late.”
“WHAT?!” you yell, pushing him off of you and hurriedly searching for your phone. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?
“I TRIED!” he protests, getting off the bed. “You slept like a rock. Who knew squeezing your nipples would finally do it? It’s what I used to do to Jungkook when we shared a dorm. Though, of course, I used to twist his nipples to the point where he was certain I detached them from his body somehow. I tried handling you with care, princess.”
“Couldn’t you have used your fingers somewhere else, Seokjin? A bit lower perhaps? You know, something Jungkook doesn’t have? Something you could only possibly do with your girlfriend?”
Seokjin stares at you. Despite the fact that you’d looked delectable asleep and under him already, the thought never occurred to him. Of course the thought wouldn’t occur to him. This wasn’t a conversation you had had together and he hadn’t gotten your consent or any hint that it’d be something you would want. Unless of course, he had been the reason you refused to wake up… Seokjin’s mind wanders with a desperate need within him to have the conversation then and there, knowingly unprepared if you’d admitted to it all. Wanting to be woken up that way. A dream, perhaps. They might have just forget the event altogether…
He begins following you around the room with pleas for a moment to talk, but you don’t turn back for a second until it is to do the exact opposite of handling him with care - dragging and pushing him into the bathroom.
Seokjin watches as you undress, doing the same and half hoping for a quickie, considering your eagerness. He almost felt his length begin to harden, but soon you’re pushing him once more, into the tepid shower with a loofah in hand. He tries to put his thought away for now, caring for your body in another way he felt so privileged to do. To maximize efficiency, you wash yourselves and one another before going about your routines at double the pace. Seokjin’s entirely dressed in minutes, save for his suit jacket, while you were still getting ready, wearing a lingerie set underneath a robe. Extra time for you, and extra time for him to admire you.
“Help me with my dress,” you command him, stepping into a dress he promptly zips up, but not before he drinks up the sight of you in brown silk and lace underneath. Stood behind you, he watches as you adorn yourself with jewelry but can’t stop his hand from snaking over your waist, softly cupping your breasts over the fabric of your dress. You don’t react save for a sharp inhale, continuing to adorn your look. You’re so stunning it almost brings him to his knees. He’d happily allow his body to get there, too, kneeling to tease you at the very least and at most, sneaking his head underneath your dress and pulling down your underwear - just for a taste. But instead, he nudges his head in the crook of your neck - softly kissing along the chain of your necklace. “Tell me, honey… were you dreaming of me? Is that why you didn’t want to wake up?”
You roll your eyes, playfully swatting Seokjin’s hand on your waist, his fake arrogance replaced with a wide smile in seconds. “We need to leave.”
“I made a promise,” Seokjin says, wearing his jacket. “While you were asleep. I made a promise.”
“Oh?” you question, spraying perfume on the two of you. The final touch.
“I said that if you were faking sleeping through your alarms, I wouldn’t eat you out tonight.”
The promise makes you stop in your tracks towards the front door, Seokjin getting there first with an intrigued expression on his face when he looks back. “Since you weren’t faking it, that means I have to do it. And since you slept through the many different ways I tried waking you up… I guess it seems I gotta get you to do something else.... gotta get you somewhere.... many different ways tonight…. Oh, and of course, you won't be faking it this time around as well.”
He’s unsure if the redness in your cheeks is heat flooding your system or makeup he simply hadn’t noticed a minute prior. As you make your way towards your fiancee, you see smugness only slightly present on his face, overshadowed by sincerity - that of a genuine promise. Your hands fiddle with Seokjin’s tie before resting on his chest.
“I didn’t realize dreams could manifest into reality that quickly.”
“I knew it,” Seokjin smiles, kissing your hand as his ears go red. The idea of you actually having a wet dream about him this long into your relationship… the fact that you’d dream of him and his body pleasuring yours, after only hours apart in sleep… it sent him into a frenzy.
“I mean, I know I’ll hear it tonight, but I kind of wish you’d been moaning my name in your sleep…”
“Well, you didn’t see my pajama shorts, did you?,” you whisper, flicking Seokjin’s nipple over his shirt. He winces but is quick to disregard the pain - his face flushed, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands, trying to reach for your waist, thigh, or ass - you push him away.
“It was a very vivid dream, honey. Don’t you worry… I’ll tell you all the many different ways I want it. The ways you did it… And tomorrow, wake me up like it never ended.”
There it was.
“Can we stay in? We’re late already,” Seokjin whines. “We can get a head start. Morning to morning…” He feeling his knees buckling at the thought, slowly trying to pull you closer to him in persuasion. You don’t budge and open the door instead.
“You know we can’t…. Now’s your time to dream of me.”
The hunger within him only grew, already fantasising of the of the night to come. Now, he was in competition with himself and he’d make sure your reality is far better than anything you could dream of.
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Seokjin fic recs 2023
In honor of Seokjin’s birthday, I want to share my favorite fanfictions that I’ve read this year. Although I did not read as many as I wanted to, the list will be short. But! I’ve leave my ‘to read’ list at the bottom to make up for it 💜I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹
❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗
If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂
BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (💜)(kth) |
Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻.
⭐Knocked by @sailoryooons [10.6K]
// ksj x f.reader // roommates to lovers // 🥵😂
📝 Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.
🗨️ This was so hilarious, and the build up and pay-off was really good 👏
⭐Sleepover by @peachypinkygloss [7.3K]
// ksj x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵
📝 You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.
🗨️ Omg this was so good, the smut 😘🥵
⭐I Don’t Think I’m Okay by @ressjeon [4K]
// ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // 🥵🥰🌩️
📝 With many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore.
🗨️ A cute little Seokjin fic 🥰
⭐The IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K]
// ksj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰😂
📝 One review on IKEA’s website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you weren’t so sure.
🗨️ Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much 💜
I’m really sad that I didn’t get to read more Seokjin fics 😭 I have a lot on my ‘to read’ list, so I’ll share some that I’m really excited to read when i have more time (and I know they’ll be great because they are written by amazing people!) ✨
‘To read’ list ⬇️
Fast Lane by @yminie [20.6K]
Cherry Topper by @kth1 [17.6K]
Final Sleigh by @floralseokjin [23.3K]
Stuck with you by @taleasnewastime [29.6K]
Small Tuna Fish by @floralseokjin [17.1K]
Off Limits by @floralseokjin [series; completed]
Raspberry truffles by @gukyi [5K]
Christmas Warfare by @gimmethatagustd [14.5K]
9 Months to Fall in Love by @floralseokjin [series; completed]
Redamancy by @jeonggukingdom [7.1K]
Sunday by @here2bbtstrash [5K]
Serve Me by @chateautae [16K]
Meet Me at the Bar by @eoieopda [7.5K]
Internal Conflicts by @yoongiofmine [series; completed]
Forever by @oddinary4bts [25.2K]
Thank you, Daddy by @ktheist [19K]
The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin [series; completed]
Glazed & Dazed by @floralseokjin [30.3K]
Wet & Wild by @jamaisjoons [10K]
Warm this Winter by @jamaisjoons [51.6K]
Peach Parfait by @jamaisjoons [series; completed]
Borderlines by @jamaisjoons [series; ongoing]
All I Don’t Want for Christmas is You! by @minisugakoobies [23.7K]
Cupid’s on Holiday by @persphonesorchid [17K]
Don’t Go Baking my Heart by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids [14.7K]
Platonic by @joheunsaram [series; completed??]
Last November by @kithtaehyung [24.7K]
Sit. Stay. by @daechwitatamic [14K]
Turn Back Time by @raplinesmoon [13.3K]
Made-up Love Song by @floralseokjin [series; completed]
Lost and Found by @taleasnewastime [21.2K]
I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to read more! 😭 Life happened, and yeah. But all of these wonderful fics on my list sound so incredibly good and I really look forward to reading them and give them a lovely review 💜
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEOKJIN!!! 💜 🥳 🎂
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How do you think each of the members are like as a best friend? I'm curious as to your take. You always somehow get them spot on.
a/n: first of all,,, thank you!!! second idk if this is what you was looking for but it turned out to be a luh calm mini headcanon,,, lemme know what u think 🫢
namjoon:
wants to hang out 24/7; always tries to make you be friends with his other friends so he can have one huge super group of friends to hang out with all the time
lowkey your biggest opp; like you’ll be having a heart to heart ranting about your life and what’s going on and “why is it always me? 😩” and then he’ll read you for filth detailing exactly why whatever’s happening is happening and what you need to do to fix it; and you sitting there like 🤥 because you was just tryna complain
perpetually busy but will literally drop whatever he’s doing the second you say you need him
seokjin:
people wonder if y’all are even friends because all you do is bicker because neither of you can fight the urge to play devil’s advocate on every single subject
the type to be the brother you never wanted; always tryna scare your boo things away; loves either going to your family home or having you at his; randomly puts you in headlocks to assert dominance; posts awful 0.5 pics of you on his close friends story
he may play with you but he don’t play about you; he can be mean to you because he loves you but it’s a no for everyone else; 100% not afraid to check someone who say something slick about you
yoongi:
likes to buy you random gifts in lieu of actually expressing affection
takes pride in being your bestie; if anyone else claims to be your best friend he’s gonna look at them funny and give them some push back; goes to you later on to confirm that He is in fact your best friend as if you’re not allowed to have more than one
regardless of whether it’s his cup of tea or not when you want to do something with him he always goes along with it
hoseok:
sends or tags you in every single video he finds even slightly amusing and expects you to react to them all; (bonus) you’d definitely make one of those muni long made for me videos
the one you call when you’re bored at work and y’all stay on the phone yapping for the rest of your shift
your shopping buddy!; sometimes you’ll both order a stuff online or maybe you’ll go thrifting or to target or something and then go back to his place and do a lil fashion show with all the stuff you bought
jimin:
would have the type of relationship with you that makes prospective partners suspicious because y’all are too close; it’s not your fault that people don’t understand y’all soul ties!!
the devil on your shoulder at all times; he’s the one you go to when you want validation to do something you know you shouldn’t do
whatever someone tells jimin they sign up to telling you too; you’re a package deal <3; there’s an actual tea party that takes place once a month that’s dedicated to spilling tea
taehyung:
the type to stick beside you no matter what; doesn’t matter how wrong you are no one gon ever catch him on anyone else’s side
has an uncanny ability to talk you into his harebrained schemes so you’re always getting into escapades and shenanigans
follows you on spotify to monitor and critique what you’re listening to; you’ll get random screenshots of what you’re listening to and what he thinks you should be listening to; never admits when you put him on to an artist or song
jungkook:
a fellow dnd warrior; may not have your back immediately but he will always have it eventually
you speak in terms of tiktok audios and obscure references of things that happen in your day to day life that were unreal
y’all will agree to go on a diet together and then proceed to watch mukbang/cooking videos for 3 hours and end up breaking the diet within a day of starting it
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. . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober day 6
[day six: corruption kink]
pairing: seokjin x reader
tags/ warnings: pwp, corruption kink, he’s a little condescending too, just jin teaching you how to touch yourself?, fingering, cumming untouched
notes: smut straight under the cut
kinktober masterlist
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
“Come on, baby. Play with yourself for me” Jin presses his lips to your cheek. Warm breath fanning over your flushed skin, the prettiest shade of pink.
His cock twitches as your hands slip between your thighs, eyes refusing to meet his as your fingers curl over your covered pussy. So unsure of yourself as the pads of your fingers graze over your clit, not enough to spark any pleasure. Simply grazing over your cunt, no real pressure behind your movements.
You squirm in Jin’s lap, pitiful coo falling from his lips as you press a little harder over your pussy lips, growing desperate in your own arousal.
You swallow down your pride, frustrated tears clinging to your eyes as you look up at him; anything to feel the pleasure that he likes to bring you.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, faux pout pulling at his bottom lip at your clear distress. Poor little pussy throbbing, desperate.
“Wanna feel good” you murmur, hips stuttering upwards against your hand, nothing happening.
Jin hums, a sound you know means you weren’t about to get your way, “Then make yourself feel good”
Your bottom lip pulls out into a pout, index finger pressing a little harder against the soaked crotch of your panties.
“I don’t know how” it comes out as nothing more than a whisper, breathy and quiet. So much embarrassment tearing away at your insides at the fact you didn’t even know how to pleasure yourself. So scared of your own body and the many possibilities of endless pleasure you could be able to bring yourself.
“What was that, baby? Say it louder I couldn’t hear you” his hands slip around your waist, greedy fingers slipping under your shirt, teasing over your bare tits.
“I don’t know how” a little louder, enough for Jin’s cock to throb. Dewy precum leaking into his underwear as your eyes watch his hands, nipples hardening as he barely brushes the pads of his thumbs over your flesh.
“You don’t know how?” he asks, mean little smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You shake your head, hands now stagnant between your thighs, fingers paused over the growing wet spot; pussy leaking so much slick at the tone of his voice, hands touching you in sensitive places.
“And you want Jinnie to help you?” he presses a kiss to your jaw, holding himself there as you swallow down a whimper.
You nod.
“Want me to teach you how to play with your pretty little clit?” his fingers pinch one of your nipples, tugging a moan out of you.
Your chest stutters for a breath, “Yes, please” you whine, hands slipping to your sides when he pulls your legs open.
Another wave of slick leaks out your pussy when he tugs your panties down, singular hand tugging both your ankles upwards to help you strip for him.
Your cunt clenches, puffy and needy and ever so desperate you can’t find it in yourself to want to close your legs when you pushes them open; hooked on either side of his thighs.
His hands skim down the length of your body, hard cock pressing against your lower back, straining for any sort of friction as he catches sight of your slicked up pussy.
“This right here” his fingers skim over your mound, “is where we’re gonna make you feel really good, okay baby?”
His fingers dip through your folds, wet with your arousal before he pulls back the hood of your clit.
You glance down the line of your body, clenching as the sight of his hand so close to where you want him.
His thumb runs over your clit, hips jutting upwards at the sudden pleasure pulsing down your body.
“You always make such pretty noises when I touch you here” he murmurs, finger dragging over the little bud, dribble of slick falling onto the sheets as he touches you.
He holds your pussy open, swollen little clit throbbing, “Touch yourself, come on my love” he urges, free hand taking hold of yours, pressing your fingers just as he had.
He swallows down a groan at your gentle flick of your clit, the unsure way you drag over it, no doubt only feeling the smallest sparks of pleasure.
It must be how unsure you are of your own body, indirect innocence of it all that has him rutting his hips forward, barely any friction against his straining cock. The mere sight of you probably enough for him to cum in his underwear.
He dips a finger into your pussy as you slowly work out how to touch your clit, pressing a little harder, a little faster as Jin pushes against your sweet spot.
You find yourself slipping your orgasm, thighs quivering. The sweetest little moans tumbling off your lips in quick succession when he flicks at your clit. Your hands grasping the fabric of your shirt as he prolongs your orgasm. Because as much as he loves the idea of you being the master of your own pleasure, there will always be something about him doing it for you, slowly plaguing your mind that has him cumming untouched.
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He Forgets Your Birthday
Jin x Reader
Summary: Jin just wants to make your birthday memorable, but what happens when life gets too
hectic and makes him forget?
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: angst, swearing
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me a little bit to get to.
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Life moved quickly with Jin, in multiple ways.
The first time you ever met, he asked for your number, fearing you wouldn’t cross paths again
and he might not get another chance. You both said ‘I love you’ less than two months into
dating, after he accidentally let it slip out during one of your first nights together, you even ended
up moving in with him after less than a year when the apartment you were subletting fell
through(or more accurately, flooded through, but whatever)
Things also moved quickly because of your careers. Sometimes days would flick by without your
realizing, a week would turn into two before either of you noticed, and then suddenly it’s been
nearly two months since your last technical date.
Despite your reassurances that you understood, Jin felt guilty at times for the two of you missing
out on special occasions like holidays or anniversaries with each other, but one day he
promised he wouldn’t let slip past was your birthday.
You weren't exactly a fan of making a big fuss for your birthday, but Jin wanted to make it
special for you.
“I’ll cook,” He’d promised you. “I’ll make all your favorites, as well as traditional seaweed soup
for good luck, and then we’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”
“What if I don’t want to do anything?” You’d asked, raising a brow as you sat on his lap.
“Then we’ll do nothing together,” He’d replied, pulling you closer. “And have a wonderful time
doing it.”
It’d been an easy promise to make when your birthday was still almost a month away, but as the
days and weeks passed, things became increasingly hectic. Comeback season was drawing
close, and with it came the pressure and chaos of constant rehearsals, video shoots, and
promotional activities, leaving Jin little time to think about much else. Half the time you were
already asleep before he got home at night, tiredly wrapping himself around you for a few
precious hours before starting the cycle all over again.
He didn’t even know what day of the week it was until Jimin spoke up as they slumped against
the wall, trying to catch their breath during rehearsals.
“Oh, how’s Y/n? Did they like their gift?” Jimin asked. “I haven't heard from them since I texted
happy birthday this morning.”
Jin felt his heart screech to a stop as he looked over at the younger man, hoping he had
misheard. “What?”
“The flowers you helped us pick out? I figured they would’ve-” Jimin’s voice trailed off as he
noticed the growing look of horror on Jin’s face. “Tell me you didn’t forget?”
Jin’s whole body felt cold as he fumbled for his phone, stomach dropping as he read the date,
and then the numerous text notifications from you.
His hands shook as he read your words, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.
‘You left this morning before I got to say it, but love you💖’
‘Do you know what time you’ll be home?’
'Ngl, I'm kinda excited for tonight, it's been ages since I had your cooking😋'
‘Jinnie? Is everything okay?’
‘You’re not coming, are you?’
‘You could at least answer your phone so I know you’re okay.’
Shit.
Sparing no time explaining to the others, he grabbed his things and bolted out the door, nearly
sprinting for the elevators.
He couldn’t believe how badly he’d fucked up, you must’ve been so upset with him. How would
he even explain himself to you? Would you even talk to him when he got home? He wouldn’t
blame you if the answer was no.
“Y/n?” He called as he opened the door but the house was silent, all the lights off, the stillness
seeming to loom over him as he kicked off his shoes.
Tip-toeing through the house, he caught sight of the bouquet of flowers the guys had sent you
sitting proudly in the center of the dining table, their cheery brightness almost mocking him now.
As he neared your shared bedroom, he caught sight of a sliver of light slipping out into the hall
from the crack in the door.
Peeking in, he found you curled up on your side of the bed, sound asleep, but he could tell by
the puffiness around your eyes that you’d been crying, shattering his heart completely.
He slowly sank down on the bed next to you, gently brushing your hair out of your face.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He choked, tears blurring your image in front of him. He felt like the worst
boyfriend in the world, how could he have forgotten something like this?! He had promised you!
He’d always tried so hard to live up to his commitments and responsibilities in your relationship,
no matter how small, but in the moment when it mattered the most, he’d failed you.
“Jinnie?” Your cracked, sleep laden voice snapped his attention back up to you, meeting your
tired eyes.
“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He said, crying in earnest now.
“ ‘s okay.” You said drowsily, too tired to fight with him.
“It’s not. I made you a promise, and I fucked up.” He said, wiping his face.
You didn’t speak, sitting up slowly and pulling him into a hug. As upset as you might’ve been,
you couldn’t stand to see him cry.
You wouldn’t lie, you were deeply hurt, but it wasn’t just for you. You’d seen how hard he’d been
working lately, coming home late sore and exhausted, bags under his eyes from fatigue. You
hated seeing him so tired all the time, so stressed and not able to do anything about it. You
knew that under normal circumstances, he would’ve never forgotten, but your lives weren’t
normal.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He cried into your neck. “I’ll find a way.”
“Jinnie, I don’t care about the dinner,” You said, trying not to start crying again yourself as you
pulled back to look at him. “All I really wanted was to be with you.”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.
“Just come hold me, please.” You half dragged him under the covers with you, winding your
limbs around each other tightly.
Neither of you spoke much as you slowly drifted off to sleep, clinging to each other desperately,
needing to feel each other to be sure you were both still there.
When you opened your eyes the next morning, you found his side of the bed empty.
Sitting up
slowly, you glanced around, questions only just beginning to form in your mind before you heard
a faint noise from somewhere in the house, the scent of one of your favorite dishes drifting
through the open bedroom door.
Still groggy, you climbed out of bed and followed the smell to your kitchen, where you found
your missing boyfriend, his back to you as he stood over the stove, fussing at something he was
stirring.
“Why are you so salty? I didn’t even add that much.”
“Maybe it’s just in a bad mood.”
He turned at the sound of your voice, eyes softening as they found you in the doorway, messy
hair and sleep clouded eyes, wearing one of his pajama tops as a sleepshirt.
“I thought you were still asleep.” He said softly.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
“Fulfilling my promise to you.” He said, turning back to the stove for a moment as he spoke. “It’s
not quite all of your favorites, but it’s a start. Plus, we’ve got the whole day to do whatever else
you want to do.”
“I have work.” You said, not unkindly.
“No, you don’t.” He responded. “I left them a message saying you were sick and couldn’t come
in today.”
“Sick with what?” You asked.
“Bad boyfriend-itis,” He said, coming over to hook his arms round your waist. “It’s a very serious
condition, it requires a lot of rest and care to recover from.”
“You’re not a bad boyfriend.” You said quietly, fiddling with his shirt collar.
“I’m not so sure about that.” He said, frowning.
“Well, I am.” You pushed up on your toes to press your lips to his softly, making him melt
instantly. You let your hands slowly trail up and around his neck, earning a slight shiver from him
before you pulled away to look at him. “What about rehearsals?”
“I told them the same thing as your work.” He said with a slightly dazed grin.
“You have boyfriend-itis too?” You raised a brow at him questioningly.
“Are you kidding? I’m patient zero.” He replied, earning a giggle from you, making his heart
swell as he smiled down at you.
“Go back to bed,” He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll call you when it’s
ready.”
“I don’t wanna go back to bed.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist, looking up at
him seriously. “I told you last night, I just want to be with you.”
“Alright then.” He hooked his hands under your thighs, boosting you up to sit on the counter with
a surprised squeak from you. “You can sit here and be my lovely assistant.”
“I don’t even know what you’re making.” You giggled again.
“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead and make yummy noises when I show you something.”
The two of you talked as he continued cooking, stopping each time he passed by you to leave a
kiss on your waiting lips. Once everything was ready, you moved to the table, sitting close
enough that you could reach over and grab his hand as he settled next to you.
He glanced up at you. “What is it?”
“Just thank you.” You said.
He tilted his head. “For what?”
“Being you. Being here.”
Jin felt the familiar twisting in his chest as he leaned over to press another kiss to your lips.
“Always.” He promised.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake again, he swore to himself, he would be there for you, no
matter what else was going on. You were his world, his heart, and he would make sure you
knew that from now on.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl
@bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan
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20 Years Late - KSJ
Pairing: Divorced, single dad!SeokjinX Best friend, Fem!Reader
Theme: Angst, Fluff, mutual pining, confessions, slice of life au, bf2l au.
Wordcount: 1.3k+
Summary: Seokjin could count on his fingers the things that haven't changed within these 20 years of his life, and one of those is you..
Warnings: mentions of unsuccessful marriage, divorce, mutual pining, quite angsty (Not like girl crush I promise), love confessions, crying, Seokjin is 40, reader is 39. SFW.
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Happy Seokjin day! Hope our baby is happy and healthy. 💜
And I hope you all like this short piece. I personally like the way it turned out. Tell me what you guys think.
“Appa, you know you have to do it today, right?” Seokhee’s voice sounds less like encouragement and more like a threat. Seokjin knows his daughter well. He knows she will make his life a living hell if he fails to complete his mission today.
So, he has to do it. He has to do it today at any freaking cost.
“Yes, Seokhee! Appa knows.” Seokjin tries to calm his daughter down but in reality, he fails to stay calm himself.
He is nervous. There is a tremble in his hands, which he used to experience back in his rookie days.
Now that he is thinking of those days, he realizes so many things have changed, have been altered even. He used to be youthful, used to throw dad jokes all around, used to hit the club twice a month but now.. All he has is back pain, impending migraine before each boring meeting, and a skin thicker than earth’s mantle.
But he also has more experience, both professionally and personally, and patience. Certainly, a wrong marriage, fatherhood and a divorce has taught him enough about life and he is grateful for that.
He could count on his fingers the things that haven't changed within these 20 years of his life, and one of those is you.
You were with him when he used to be reckless and wild, you were with him when he took the vows he couldn’t keep, you were with him when he held Seokhee for the first time in his arms, you were with him when he signed those divorce papers and you still are with him.
You took care of not only him but also his daughter selflessly. He is grateful to you for all of it, but he is even more apologetic. You kind of sacrificed your life for your best friend, him, and his daughter, Seokhee. And as a result, you are 39 and unmarried.
What unsettles Seokjin even more is that he could have easily held your hands, looked into your eyes and told you that he loves you, he has been loving you for 20 years now… but he failed.
He failed you again and again on several occasions for numerous times in these 20 years. However, that is not what he wants to think of today. He is finally giving himself a chance, giving his life another chance… and giving you an idea of what you and him could be... together.
“Hey handsome, where are you so lost?” you appear out of nowhere and sit down beside him on the sand. Handing him the ice-cream cone, you take a lick from yours.
Seokjin jolts at your sudden appearance. He tries to calculate for how long he has been zoning out. He looks at his phone only to find out Seokhee has cut the call and the screen went back to his wallpaper.. him, Seokhee and you, a happy family... only if it actually was. He puts the device in his pocket.
“Took you so long.” he comments softly as he tastes the vanilla-flavored goodness on the tip of his tongue.
“Yeah. The queue was pretty long.” you point at the ice-cream shop residing a little far away from the place you two are sitting currently. “But it’s worth it. The ice-cream tastes really good. Seokhee would have liked it so much.”
Seokjin scoffs. He sometimes feels jealous of his own daughter because these days all you talk about is her. Is Seokjin nothing more than Seokhee’s father? Are those 20 years long memories fading from your brain or something? Can’t you look at him as Kim Seokjin, the 40 years old businessman, who loves you?
“You miss her, don’t you?” he turns his head to look at you. The mellow sea breeze has ruffled up your hair making it messy, you have a little bit of chocolate at the corner of your lips, your right elbow is covered with sand, your eyes are red and there are eyebags under those. But you are beautiful nonetheless. As beautiful as when he had seen you for the first time, when he was 20 and you were 19.
“Of course I do. I know your ex-wife takes good care of her but I can’t help being a little worried, which makes me miss her even more.” you pout a little. Seokjin’s heart melts into a puddle.
“And what about me? Do you miss me?” he adds a little suggestively, trying to find an answer or a question in your eyes.
“You are practically right here, Jin. Why the fuck will I miss you?” you giggle, nudging his shoulder with yours in the process.
“Not that, Y/N. Don’t you miss your Jinnie? You best friend? The person I used to be before getting married, before having Seokhee?” If Seokjin's voice sounds a little desperate, he does nothing to mask it. It’s you after all. He can show you the real him, the desperate version of himself who craves you and your love.
You smile a little, but there is a sadness in it that tugs at Seokjin’s heart strings.
“Yes. Yes I do. But I can’t let that take me over. Otherwise I will start wishing for impossible, forbidden things that I buried long, long ago.”
“What if those things are not forbidden? Not impossible? What if- what if the wishes are mutual?” Seokjin suggests.
Your expression changes in a heartbeat. When you look at him, he perceives moisture in your eyes. And you look hurt, as if he has trespassed a territory you clearly asked him to stay away from.
“You don’t know what you are saying, Seokjin.” Your voice trembles.
“Don’t call me that. Call me Jinnie, just like you used to 12 years ago.” Seokjin scoots closer to your body.
“I- I can’t-”
“Let’s start afresh. Both of us, you and me, together. Please?” Seokjin cuts you off.
“What? What are you even.. Jin? Are you pitying me right now? Are you extending your kind hands seeing me approaching my 40s without a partner?” Fat trails of tears roll down your cheeks and break Seokjin’s heart.
“No- what the fuck! No-” Seokjin tries to establish his ground but you cut him off.
“Then why? Tell me why are you proposing something so unreasonable like this? Are you joking with me?” you spat at him.
“Do I really have to spell it out for you? I love you! Are you happy now?” Seokjin shouts back, “do think it’s unreasonable to finally give my feelings a chance after debating for 20 fucking years?”
“Jin-”
“For god’s sake, Y/N. I have more gray hair than black these days! Do you think I will be joking about getting married with the woman I love at this age?”
“Are you-”
“Yes! Yes I am serious. I have been loving you since when I was 20 and you were 19. Hell! I took my wedding vows imagining your face and you are now accusing me of pitying you!” Jin’s own face is smeared with tears now. He didn’t even realize when he started crying.
“Was I the reason behind your unsuccessful marriage?” your voice sounds unsure as you address the elephant in the room.
“No. It was a marriage of convenience, none of us were happy. It had to end at a point and it did. You have nothing to do with it.” Jin replies, wiping the tears off of his face.
He finds you biting your lips as you stare at the sea ahead.
“It’s okay if you-” Jin gets silenced as you whip your head at the speed of lightning and place a chaste kiss on his lips.
“I love you too, Jinnie. I have always been in love with you, maybe even before you fell for me.” you murmur, connecting your forehead with his.
Tears roll down Jin’s cheeks again, but this time due to happiness. You wipe those with your thumb.
“Finally.. Finally you are mine.” Jin whispers as he leans in for another kiss.
“Yeah, you are a little too 20 years late but we are finally there.” you place your lips on his.
“I love you, Y/N” Jin mumbles in between the kiss, pulling you closer by your waist.
“I love you too, Jinnie.” You reply, wrapping your hands around his neck.
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
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how you met | a serendipitous life
whether fate is a belief or it's perfect timing, we'll see how each couple met and ignited their purple.
dad!bts mlist
↳ Namjoon & Moon | the couple with the longest history.
You started as the friends who always had a thing for each other. You knew you wanted to confess to him eventually but when he was signed and whisked away to the city, you sort of lost your chance. Once you moved away for college, the two of you lost touch but you always made it a point to silently support Namjoon and kept mutual friends between each other. After graduating college some years later, you were surprised by a very unexpected visitor at your celebration dinner - Namjoon (appropriately set up by said friends.) It didn’t take long for you and Namjoon to rebuild your friendship leading to the revelation that both had mutual feelings - thus a relationship was made official. You and Namjoon have learned the true meaning of ups and downs. Despite the long separation between friendship and relationship, Namjoon broke off the relationship spurred on by pressures from his career and outside disapproval of your relationship. But ultimately the two of you decided you didn’t want to miss out on any more years with each other -again- and rekindled your relationship once and for all. While you are both still learning to strengthen the bonds of union along with two kids, your love for each other is unbreakable. No matter what, you always find your way back to each other.
↳ Jin & Hart | the traditionally untraditional couple.
You are a family friend whom Jin secretly had a thing for, for a long time. Given his career, he never found the right time to see if there was a mutual attraction. Despite years in between seeing each other at family & friend gatherings, the few times Jin had personal free time - he could never shake you from his mind. So finally, while on a month's break, he took his parents to visit his hometown. Call it chance or the doings of two self-proclaimed, match-making mothers, a welcome home party of sorts was thrown together, conveniently bringing you to him - much to his delight. He charmed his way into your life though you persistently rejected him. It terrified you, the thought of dating an idol but, even you couldn’t deny who Jin was at heart, a jokester who just wanted to see the ones around him smile. He made sure you were comfortable and felt secure in the relationship. It was smooth sailing all things considered, until the night Jin was going to propose he learned you had a surprise of your own - you were pregnant. Both raised in very traditional homes, your families did not welcome the news initially, but when baby Gi was born, he melted their hearts. Now with three kids, another on the way, and a husband pursuing his love for acting, your life is as busy as ever. But even with the prospect of your husband signing with his first television series, you’re confident you can get through this next journey without a hitch.
↳ Yoongi & Kitt | the mom and dad of the group.
You started as an intern for BigHit some years back and upon meeting Yoongi, the two of you hit it off. It was whispered throughout the company that you two would end up as more than just workmates turned friends. While the two of you would dismiss those rumors, not even acknowledging them outwardly, the attraction to each other only grew. But given contracts and fears a relationship could destroy your integrity to the company and work, you concluded that your feelings had to be kept locked away. That is until you left after being promoted. Yoongi was confused and unwilling to let this go, especially where it concerned you. He confronted you and, well, the rest is history. Of course, the relationship was kept a secret for quite some time until the members told Yoongi they’d known for a while (many laughs are still shared about this.) Everything sort of fell into place from there. You married and had Dae not long after Jin and Hart gave birth to Gi. Everyone who knows you will say you and Yoongi are the most laid-back couple who keep a low profile and are very set in your ways. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that you can never be too settled.
↳ Jimin & Chick | the power couple beloved by many.
Park Jimin swears he fell in love with you the moment he saw you on the set of their music video for Idol. You beg to differ. But Jimin never expected this, to fall for the head stylist. He knew he couldn’t leave the shoot without getting to know you - somehow and someway. He had enough charm and confidence to woo you only to fall short of your wit and cute smiles, reducing him to a blushing mess. Dinner was had the next night but not without a herd of paparazzi. You two were in a relationship according to headlines before you even knew it yourself. But it was an easy decision for you, falling for this man who vowed to take care of you (so long you kept your promise to cuddle him in bed every night.) Escaping to another country to marry in a very private ceremony, and returning to Seoul was a whirlwind. But you and Jimin quickly proved to be a power couple, taking the world by storm. Now with Jimin pursuing other opportunities, and a third boy on the way, you’ve retired from styling and do what you’ve always wanted to - create fashion from your home studio. Power couple or not, managing this bunch with your soon-to-be four boys will be interesting, to say the least!
↳ Taehyung & Luv | your every day Mr. and Mrs.
Oh, Mr. Romantic. He didn’t know how or when he would meet the love of his life, but it was something he hoped for. Little did he know that you were under his nose the entire time. Close friends with Woo-Shik from ‘Wooga squad’, you always had a thing for Tae - but no one could ever know. Spending time with Tae always went amiss until the chance fell into your lap when Woo-shik invited you over for a very regular dinner at his house. Lo and behold, Mr. Kim Taehyung was there. He chatted you up (conveniently sat next to you) and if you remember correctly, he even fed you a bite to eat. Wandering eyes amidst the friend group - they just knew. Life was busy and you didn’t see Taehyung for some months until Cupid struck you with another arrow - you crossed paths during a random day out. You had lunch, spent the rest of the day window shopping together, flirting with each other, and Taehyung, the bashful but cheeky man that he is, kissed you when he walked you to your door that night. He confessed that he couldn’t get you out of his mind since that night at Woo-shik’s house, and even wondered what it would be like to kiss you. It was as easy as it could get. Dating. Missing him while he toured. Getting married. Crying with him when the group retired. And now with a 1-year-old boy who is the apple of your husband’s eye, the two of you can’t wait to see what the future holds.
↳ Jungkook & Bell | the couple who met at the right place, right time.
He believed wholeheartedly he would hear bells when he found the one. So as a special guest at a speaking event, the sound of bells entered his ears (really it was an accompaniment of perfectly timed music set to play between speeches) he looked up at the podium, and there you were, a local speaker who just so happened to fall before his sparkling eyes. You knew BTS, you listened to some of their songs, but it was nothing more than that. Even then, when you found yourself talking to Jeon Jungkook, you had to pinch yourself to make sure this was real. He was very discreet but he made sure you knew he was interested. And you were too, this was intriguing. So, with only the purest intention, you went out to get to know him - maybe you could be friends. Several dates and a very awkward and shy kiss later, Jungkook made it clear what he wanted. You. Oh, what a curve ball life threw at you once the two of you started dating. How secretive it had to be - how stressful that was. But in the last year of BTS’ contract, the news came out and well, opinions were mixed. But the two of you had prepared for that as much as possible, supporting one another. Now married with a few years under your belt, Jungkook continues to pursue a solo career in music while you care for your newborn baby at home - soon to return to your job as well. Being the youngest couple in the group, people often underestimate the two of you. But you know well enough that, together, there isn’t a storm that can’t be weathered.
↳ Hoseok & Sunny | the international couple.
Hobi was open to the idea of falling in love with someone overseas, but he never expected it to happen. When he laid eyes on you, working behind the camera for one of their interviews, he couldn’t keep them from wandering over to you the entire time (you laugh about it now when you see clips of that interview and how distracted he was.) He talked a big talk and when J-Hope of BTS slipped you his number you rolled your eyes as he walked away, crumpling the piece of paper but sticking it in your pocket anyway. It wasn’t until you got home later that night did you remember you had his number, annoyed with yourself the more you thought about how enjoyable conversation actually was with him; you caved and texted him. Oh how delighted he was! You two texted all night, in between your work and his schedule the following day, and nearly every day for the next year. The reality of your relationship didn’t take long to rear its ugly head after he returned to Korea. Missing each other was painful and often led to bickering. One day he challenged you and asked ‘Why don’t you move to Korea and pursue your career in media out here?’ Stubborn and understandably terrified of the idea, you were offended he was asking you to uproot your life. Some time passed when one day it all just clicked and you knew Hobi was not someone you were willing to lose. With the help of your colleagues, they found a spot for you at a company based out of Seoul. Things were strained for a while, from having to restart your life in Korea, dating an idol, and the language barrier, but Hobi always made sure you knew how much he valued you for doing all of it. Spending any free time he had with you, making this new city feel like home for you. When you experienced some ridicule, Hoseok proved how much of a pillar he would be. You lived together before marrying, had your son Huimang, and now juggle being a mom, and a wife to a retired idol all while working your way up in the world of media. Too busy isn’t a word in your and Hoseok’s vocabulary, so trying for your second baby should be a breeze.
taglist: @mizz-kraziii
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serve me | ksj. (m)
➵ summary: kim seokjin has been your annoyingly stoic butler ever since you started university, and were gifted your own penthouse. for years, your relationship had remained on the outs, subjecting seokjin to hearing your desperate moans for other men each time they climbed into your sheets; and each time you rubbed it in his face. little did you know that you were only riling him up, and it would be your moans for him bouncing off the walls when your taunting finally unravels his ironclad self-control.
➵ pairing: butler!seokjin x rich kid!f. reader
➵ genre: rich kid!au, domestic?au, forbidden relationship!au, age gap (8 years), porn but with plot :S, minor angst, fluff, smut
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count: 16k
➵ warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and drug use (parties are able to consent), constant sexual teasing/innuendos, tension, heavy making out, explicit sexual content, bit of soft dom/daddy!seokjin, switch!reader, mild brat-taming, lil age kink, marking, lots of licking, restraint (with his hands), nipple sucking, oral (m. and f. receiving), pussy eating (with the panties on and off 👀), deep-throating, ass-grabbing, unprotected sex (pls wrap before tapping), missionary + wall sex, multiple orgasms, creampie <33
➵ a/n: hi lovelies! hope you enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic i wrote because i got random inspiration from harry osborne’s butler... YES THIS IDEA CAME FROM SPIDERMAN OF ALL THINGS 😭 enjoy!! thank you the lovely @ggukcangetit for beta-ing this <3 as always, feedback is appreciated xoxo
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. I-don’t-have-a-life.”
“Welcome home, Miss Y/L/N.”
You sent Seokjin a bitter smile before walking right past him, tossing your purse aside and collapsing onto the couch.
“Don’t you have, like, things to do instead of hovering, Seokjin?”
The man stared at you with nothing but a blank face and slightly furrowed brows. It was the third night Seokjin had been employed to you, and absolutely nothing he did prompted you to show any likeness towards him.
He swallowed and fixed his already upright posture, clearing his throat. “My thing is to take care of you, Miss Y/L/N.”
You rolled your eyes, smothering your face into the couch with a huff—your moping was interrupted by his plain tone.
“Did you have a good day, Miss Y/L/N?”
“Would’ve been great without you incessantly texting me while I was out, and having to see your face.” You sweetly smiled for him, so much so that it was evidently fake. Seokjin merely swallowed, failing to reveal any real emotion.
“Well then, I will leave you be.” He declared, excusing himself from the main area to march towards the steps.
You scoffed as he robotically made himself scarce, grinding your teeth together. “You know, showing some goddamn emotion may actually make me like you, you statue!” You shouted from the first floor, watching him turn to face you from the second.
“I shall keep that in mind.” He simply stated, before disappearing down the corridor—you quickly snatched a cushion off your couch and screamed into it, kicking your feet.
That was one of the many interactions you’d always had with Seokjin, your entire relationship defined by how much you hated the objective of his job, while he stoically went about ensuring it was performed impeccably.
Kim Seokjin was the irritating butler your family oh-so graciously had gifted you, leaving you despising his entire existence.
It had been like that for as long as you could remember, four years of flat responses, blank faces and robot-like tendencies. The frustrating years all began with the summer before university, arriving home from a graduation party to find your parents seated in the living room, harbouring big news.
“Honey, take a seat. We have something to discuss.”
And there you sat gob-smacked, irritation boiling in your veins once they broke the agitating news.
“You hired a baby-sitter for me? What the fuck?!”
“Language, honey.” Your father scolded you.
“He’s not a baby-sitter, Y/N, he’s a butler, and he will be completely harmless.” Your mother softly explained.
You crossed your arms with a dramatic huff, unable to contain your outrage. “There is no way in hell I’m living here if you hired some sort of watch dog to keep an eye on me. I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want, mom and dad.”
“And we’re not saying you’re not an adult, Y/N. We’re simply employing you with a butler whose family has worked for us for years; it’s non-negotiable.”
“You’re acting as if this is some sort of gift, it’s not! I thought I would be getting this penthouse to myself, that was the deal!” You actually stomped your foot, entirely fed up with this.
“Y/N, this penthouse may be yours but you are not capable of taking care of yourself right now. We hired him to help ease the responsibilities that come with living on your own.”
“Ugh!” You blew up, abruptly rising from the couch. “You guys are completely killing my vibe, I’m not accepting this!”
Four weeks later, you were forced to accept it. Your first year of university had crept up on you and no matter how many times you screeched at your parents, they never budged, weaponizing the classic threat of swiping the entire penthouse from you if you didn’t comply.
The penthouse is what mattered most to you. It was conveniently located in the heart of Toronto and right next to your university, so there was absolutely no way you’d give up the lush palace that was every city-goer’s desire.
Two beautiful stories, tall glass panels for windows with high ceilings, aesthetic brick-styled walls accompanied by opulent, vintage embellishments. Dark colour palettes with cherry woods and chic furniture—it was truly a dream.
But alas, your glorious place was always wrecked by one thing; Seokjin’s annoying presence.
The man moved as stealthily as a vampire, never to be seen or heard, but he still irked you. The constant idea of knowing he was there, knowing he can hear every sound, witness each and every guest you bring home with you, lingered somewhere near wherever you stayed—it consistently made you a grumpy bitch.
You didn’t have much against him, none of this was really his fault, anyway. He couldn’t deny his family’s work nor your parent’s bidding to take care of their daughter, but the situation always remained a thorn in your side.
At one point, you decided to interrogate him, tired of his Casper the Friendly Ghost act. He seemed much older, though you were clueless on his exact age. You didn’t know where he was from, nothing about his education, his heritage, even his favourite damn colour.
The only thing you knew was that he was drop-dead gorgeous.
Yes, Seokjin was admittedly the most beautiful man you’d laid eyes upon. His luscious lips were your weakness, piggy-backed by his impeccably proportioned face, his charming almond-eyes and jet black, silky hair. It didn’t help that he was always adorned with a suit, and moved so elegantly, with a certain natural grace that massively allured you.
He appeared to you like a movie-star or a model, a face worthy of being plastered all across department store windows to advertise whatever sorry-assed thing they were selling while the only thing anyone would give a fuck about is his stunning beauty.
All these thoughts made you curious about why he was a butler, even if it was a family-run thing.
“So,” you cleared your throat one evening as you studied in the living room. Your soft Spotify playlist filled the room from your TV as you scribbled notes. “How old are you, Seokjin?”
He didn’t answer, and you quirked a confused brow. You stopped writing to repeat your question. “Seokjin, hello? How old are you?”
Again, no response. You scoffed as you shut your notebook and twisted around to locate him; he was staring at absolutely nothing as he stood motionless by the kitchen, merely blinking. “Earth to Seokjin? I’m talking to you.”
“I’m advised to keep our conversations strictly impersonal, Miss. Y/L/N.” He blankly responded; you had to bitterly laugh.
“Wow, ‘strictly impersonal.” You mockingly repeated. “Fucking mom and dad.” You shook your head cursing the damn folks; not only did they force you to accept this, but made it completely impossible for you to enjoy any of it?
“Well, I’m the one you’re taking care of, and I command you to speak to me.”
“It’s correct you’re in my care, but Mr and Mrs Y/L/N are my employers, Miss Y/L/N; I must comply with their rules.” His smooth, silky voice graced your ears, nearly causing a shiver to wrack your spine. You couldn’t help but focus on the way his lips moved when he talked, and the gentle smile he flashed before returning to his Oscar-worthy performance of Michael Myers.
You know, minus the killing, just the silence.
You dramatically sighed, shutting your book and tossing it aside before rolling onto your stomach. You rested your chin in your palms as you eyed him with a bright smile over the couch, swinging your legs like a teenager. “Now, who says rules are to be complied with?”
Seokjin’s brow slightly twitched in question, but remained quiet. You exhaled frustratingly before pouting, fed up with his silence. “Do you know how absolutely annoying that is? If you’re gonna be a glorified peeping tom for however long I live here, the least you can do is talk to me.”
“I’m not a peeping tom, Miss Y/L/N.” He answered seriously, and it’s now, you realized, you’d actually provoked him. “I would never do anything to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. If I in any way do with my actions, then you must tell me, Miss. Y/L/N.”
You absorbed his words with a conflicted face, eyeing him with skepticism. One part of you fought to antagonize him, to subject him to the absolute worst of your behaviour, but the other was adopting the slightest liking to him—you hated it.
You sprung up for your seat, marching your way over to him until you invaded his personal space—Seokjin leaned away with widened, almost terrified eyes. “Miss Y/L/N?”
“Listen, Seokjin.” You harshly began. “You wanna know what makes me uncomfortable? You. The entire goddamn idea of you, alright? No matter where I go or what I do, I hate knowing you’re in this house, capiche?” You knew you were being a bitch, you knew your tone was saturated with a cut-throat edge, but nothing else seemed to make the man budge. “And you know what I’ll do if you don’t at least make yourself likable? I’m going to live my life as if you don’t exist, and break every single rule my parents put in place. So, either you speak to me like a human being and disregard my parents’ petty rules, or I make your life a living hell, what’s it gonna be?”
The man appeared acutely dazed. He swallowed multiple times as he studied your features, flickering between your tightly-drawn lips and fierce eyes, your crossed arms and strong, squared shoulders—he must’ve been detecting you were completely serious.
“Alright, Miss Y/L/N.” He barely choked out, regaining his previous stoic stance; seems like you’d finally caught him off-guard. “But how will we ensure your mother and father do not find out about our… acquaintanceship?”
“Simple,” you bounced your brows as you laid a finger across his chest, coquettishly drawing a useless pattern. “Ever heard of not kissing and telling, Seokjin?”
Again, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and you enjoyed the reaction. He wet his lips before responding, watching your hand wander over his chest. “How would that fit our scenario?”
“Easy, we kiss and don’t tell. Except we don’t kiss and just keep things secret,” your tone teasingly lightened, decreasing the space between you two—you couldn’t help but trail your finger up his throat, eventually pressing it against his delectable lips. “Unless you want to?”
Seokjin suddenly, and unexpectedly, gave you a challenging look, curling his hand around yours and removing it from his lips. “You’re the woman I’m meant to take care of, Miss Y/L/N—nothing more.”
You scoffed, caught in an unbelievable glare with him. Frustration crawled under your skin, how could he be so adamant about one thing? So what if he’s meant to take care of you, he could at least be fun or lighten up. Irritated, you snatched your hand out of his grasp, slightly disheartened by him rejecting you—oh well, not like you cared about what he thought, anyway.
“You just waged a war,” you pointed at him with emphasis, stepping backwards towards the stairs. “And you’re not gonna like knowing I always win.”
Before he could respond, you disappeared up your winding steps and into your room, shutting your door as loudly as possible to send the message across.
It was always like that with Seokjin, no matter how much you pushed to develop some form of friendship, he always shot down your advances. It’s not like you were attempting to ensnare him in some elaborate trap to get him fired; you knew your parents knew you were a brat like that, and would fabricate anything to exterminate him.
So you decided to play this differently; with at least a semblance of the real desire to be friends with Seokjin.
Nonetheless, you weren’t going to let his trivial existence dampen your life, throwing yourself into the pleasures of your university years. It was easy to make friends when you were the rich kid; inevitable almost. Even if you could tell half of their compliments and desire to help you with assignments all stemmed from the selfish need for advantages, some truly made the nights at your penthouse fun.
It wasn’t long before guests would pile into your home, hosting them for study dates, movie nights, incessant girl-talk or much-needed sleep-overs.
The war you declared would begin with your first tactic; disrupt the enemy’s flow.
You constantly allowed Seokjin to tend to any of your needs including your friends. You didn’t mean to make him a servant, but if he was so adamant about remaining loyal to his work, then a butler he must be.
Having friends over slowly transitioned into hosting your very own party, celebrating the end of first-semester exams, and happily ringing in the month-long break before your second-semester. Snow stuck to the ground and made the city of Toronto appear like winter wonderland, though that only made the need for warm bodies grinding against each other even more apparent.
It was with a drink in your hand you’d bumped into Seokjin, who nearly spilled over the plastic plates and cups he was carrying.
“Oh look, if it isn’t Chewbacca minus the fur,” you condescended. “You know, since you never talk and follow me around like I’m Han Solo.”
“This party will not end well, Miss Y/L/N.” Seokjin warned you, ignoring your provocation. “I don’t mind drinking and recreational drugs, but there are students circulating seriously harmful narcotics, Miss Y/L/N. It could become dangerous for you.”
The worry in his eyes is what loosened your tough girl act, uncrossing your arms. “I… didn’t know anyone brought narcotics.” You slowly worked through the knowledge, becoming docile. “I’m sorry, Seokjin, I really didn’t know.”
“It’s alright, Miss. Y/L/N.” He eased you, flashing you that stupidly adorable smile of his—so subtle and yet so lethal. “The other students are of my concern but your safety is my number one priority, Miss Y/L/N. Please be careful—I’m unsure what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
In that moment, underneath flashing lights, blaring music, and swaying bodies, time seemed to slow, and the only racing thing was your touched, erratic heartbeat. Seokjin because the only person in your sight, his soft, gentle gaze stealing your breath away.
You swallowed harshly once you were sucked out of whatever trance that was, nodding for him. “Thank you, Seokjin, I’ll get right to it.” You’d promised him with a clasp of his arm before weaving through the massive crowd, hunting down the idiots who dared jeopardize your party.
That party was only a catalyst to the many more moments you’d share with Seokjin, moments that made you feel things you didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t long until you began indulging in other men to push away whatever you felt.
University paired with an expensive penthouse invited a myriad of men to your bed, throwing all care aside to have the fun you rightfully deserved. For the next year, you didn’t care that Seokjin slept just down the hall, you didn’t care that he could probably hear your moans, hear the bed creak as a strange man thrusted into you, neither did you care when you would waltz downstairs the morning after, sometimes your companion home, while others turned tail and ran before you woke.
Not that you cared—you liked sex as it was; an attachment was never necessary.
Sometimes you considered whether Seokjin was genuinely asleep, and therefore clueless, or stayed up most nights able to hear every erotic sound you made. Did he lie in bed and fantasize about what he could hear? Did he possibly leave the house altogether? He never once complained anytime you’d meet him the morning after—was he just an extremely patient and understanding man?
You slightly winced in pain as you took a seat by the island—last night’s escapade was on the rougher side, and your cooch was retaliating by aching like a bitch.
Seokjin noticed the pain on your features, peeking at you before continuing to chop up fruits—he appeared oddly husband-like with his apron on, even more so with his casual, though attractive clothes. “Are you alright, Miss Y/L/N?”
“You really need to stop calling me that,” you voiced with a hiss, before adjusting your position to a more comfortable one.
“Why so? I believe it’s your name.”
“It’s the name associated with my parents, genius. I have a first name, which you’re completely allowed to use, by the way. Not like I’m your master or something.” You waved off, reaching over to pop a sliced strawberry from his cutting board into your mouth, bouncing your brows. “Unless you’d like that in another scenario.”
Seokjin narrowed his eyes at you. He simply licked his lips before grabbing a mango to peel. “You seem to be in pain, is it because of…” He suddenly trailed as his eyes unfocused, his peeling unexpectedly slowing.
You cocked a suspicious brow. “Seokjin?”
The gorgeous man blinked multiple times before shaking his head, and continuing the conversation. Did you just witness a real-life loading screen? “Sorry, um… are you alright?”
His behavior sparked your curiosity, leaning onto the counter as you nibbled your lip. Your cheek rested in your palm, tilting your head to mischievously regard him. “What were you gonna say?”
“Pardon?” He responded, vehemently concentrating on slicing his mango—it only prompted you to pull on his leg.
“What? I seem to be in pain because of last night?”
Seokjin’s eyes minutely widened, before he coughed away the display of emotion. His jaw flexed as he returned to concentrating, eliciting an amused chuckle from you.
“Wow, you’re pretty much ancient compared to me and yet, you can barely say the word sex.”
“I’m not ancient,” he defensively cut in. “I’m only a few years older than you.”
“Ah, so I’ve finally got information on the ancient Greek statue!” You theatrically jazz-handed, curving your lips in an obnoxious smile. “So what, you’re 24? 25?”
Seokjin gave you a hard stare before returning to work as though you were non-existent. “Am I hot? Cold? C’mon, Jinnie, you gotta help me out here.”
“What did you just call me?”
“Awh, I think that’s the first time you actually spoke to me like a human being.” You overly pouted, clasping your hands together with gratitude.
Seokjin cut off his own scoff before he let it out, clearly annoyed. “I’m 27.”
“Ouu, 8 years older than me, huh? No wonder you won’t take my advances seriously.” You entertained some self-deprecating humour, restlessly wiggling your foot as you waited on his fruit bowl.
Seokjin lifted his gaze to regard you, his eyes swimming with sympathy. He gently pursed his lips before softly speaking. “It’s… not about your age, Miss Y/L/N. I am meant to take care of you, not start a relationship of any sort with you.”
“What, because of my parents?” You bitterly accused.
He glanced at you with a sigh, though didn’t respond.
“Then what? Do you find me wildly unattractive? Is it my bitchy personality? Or maybe because I’m not a “woman” enough to you?”
Seokjin’s expression demonstrated hesitation—you find yourself shocked as well. Why did these words even leave your mouth? You were never one to harbour insecurities of any kind.
Then again, you’ve never had a Seokjin in your life.
“No, Miss Y/L/N,” Seokjin gently answered. “You are not unattractive, nor bitchy or any less of a woman in my eyes. You’re simply… someone I am meant to take care of.”
“You know, you say that a lot, and yet here I am, feeling like shit because you refuse to treat me as anything but an obligation.” The quaver in your voice surprised you, how could something as kind as Seokjin’s hospitality be harming you? It made no logical sense, and yet, your mouth ran as though it held no attachment to your head, only your heart.
Seokjin visibly softened upon hearing your shaking tone, and became even more concerned when you hid your eyes. He stopped cutting to rest the knife against the counter, searching for something to say.
His continued silence felt deafening, and you were done feeling like shit. Scratching your chair back, you almost successfully stomped away until his honey-like, benevolent voice pierced the air.
“Are you seriously alright after last night? It sounded… harsh.”
You paused, furrowing your brows with confusion. “Sounded…?” You swiveled around, attempting to piece together what he meant… “You… heard me?”
“I hear you every night.”
Your eyes widened, surprise coloring your system until shame dawned on you. You cleared your throat as you hugged your robe around your frame underneath, suddenly hyper aware of your nakedness. “I don’t… have someone over every night.”
“I hear you on nights when someone isn’t helping you, either.”
You nearly choked on air, coughing as you broke eye contact with him. He stood and spoke so casually, as if he weren’t just admitting to hearing you masturbate—your immediate response was less graceful than you intended.
“W-why are you asking if I’m okay?”
“Sounded like a rough night,” he simple stated, continuing to cut his stupid fruits. Your cheeks warmed, your breathing accelerated and you swear whatever tension he ignited was now invading your body, scratching to get under your skin.
You hate that your body reacted with arousal.
“I hope nobody’s too rough with you; or else I may have to intervene.”
His words nearly made your jaw drop, scoffing as you held your chest. “Intervene? Intervene how?”
Seokjin stopped cutting again to lean against the kitchen counter, the lower height of it causing him to slightly bend over—he appeared devilishly sexy when he did that. “Taking care of you, Miss Y/L/N, means ensuring you’re not hurt in any way possible—even if it happens because of some rough sex.”
It was extremely hard to maintain your poker face when he spoke those words so nonchalantly—it’s then you remembered he is 8 years older, and you clearly were stupid to think he’d remain hush-hush about “adult” topics. “And what will you do if I want it rough?”
You shifted your weight onto a leg as you cocked a brow, challenging him to provide any sort of answer that wouldn’t piss you off. Seokjin exhaled through his nose, dipping his head before connecting his beautiful, brown eyes with you. “I will not judge that, nor intervene if something is of your desire. But please, be careful—that’s all I ask for your safety.”
You scoffed at his good guy act, bitterly laughing. “Acting like a white knight after admitting you listen to me moan? Not a smart way to deny the peeping tom allegations, now is it, Jinnie?”
Seokjin actually let himself laugh, but it was dry and humorless, channeling raw wit into his mirthy eyes. “I agreed to keep secrets from your parents, not you.”
“And yet you won’t tell me a single thing about yourself?” You countered. “Very unconvincing, Casper the Friendly ghost.”
“I did, I told you I see you as an attractive woman, didn’t I?” He cleverly shot back, catching you off-guard. You were surprised with his chattiness in the first place, when has he ever even had a decent conversation with you?
You huffed at his response, grinding your teeth as you made a break for your stairs—anything to get you away from this conversation.
“Wait,” you suddenly heard him call from downstairs, pausing in the middle of the spiralling staircase.
“What?”
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by telling you I… can hear.” He apologized, taking a deep breath. “I just never wanted to somehow interrupt you by making noise while leaving the house, and I have no choice but to listen if I stay, too. I’m a light sleeper.”
You absorbed his words, suddenly feeling extremely inconsiderate. You didn’t know he was a light sleeper; you’d probably been interrupting his sleep for days now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I promise I’ll try to bring them home less or go over to theirs instead, or something.”
“No.” Seokjin immediately raised his voice, enough that the knife even clattered from his hand. His sudden volume shocked you, meeting his worried eyes in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, just… I’d feel much better knowing you were home.”
“But your sleep—”
“Is insignificant compared to your safety, Y/N. I mean that—being in another man’s home late at night in the city is unsafe.” His tone sounded so sincere, you felt your heart suddenly speed up to a flutter at his use of your first name, your chest vibrating with an addicting warmth.
“Okay,” you agreed, before cracking a chuckle. “But you’ll have to get used to hearing me more often; I’m kinda insatiable. Why don’t you invest in some noise-canceling headphones, or something?”
Seokjin snorted before grabbing his knife again, returning to his cutting. “I’ll think about it.”
You tilted your head. “And why must you think about it, Chewy?”
You couldn’t help but notice he bit his bottom lip, almost as though he were masking a smile—his voice was hypnotizing when he spoke. “Because I’m still a man… and I didn’t know you’d sound like that.”
Perplexion coloured your features, intrigued by his confession. “What did you think I’d sound like, Mr. Statue?”
Seokjin cracked that gorgeous smile and breathy laugh that made your knees weak, shaking his head. “Aren’t you late for school?”
You slid your tongue over your teeth to suppress a chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes. “Ugh, you sound like a dad, is that a kink you’ve got, Daddy?”
Seokjin feigned annoyance, biting back his smile. “Go upstairs, Miss Y/L/N.”
You began ascending the stairs with a cheeky laugh, until a thought suddenly occurred to you. “Oh, Seokjin, could you please get some ibuprofen for me, please? You know, since I like it rough and all.”
You didn’t even have time to see the small, crooked smile on Seokjin’s face before you vanished on the second floor.
For whatever reason, Seokjin became somewhat… tolerable after that interaction. Dare you say fun. Your relationship began to slowly kindle for the next two years; the small banter, inside jokes, innuendos you both understood yet never spoke further about.
He was supportive, too. He’s the one that kept you afloat when exam’s slammed themselves on you, facing the harsh reality of university. He’d offer his help to quiz you and ensure you were well taken care of, otherwise you would’ve neglected basic necessities altogether throughout your studies.
The most memorable moment was the seminar you were tasked with compiling for your course’s final assignment. Not only were you cowering from speaking in front of an entire lecture hall, but also the numerous other professors and department heads special guests to the students’ presentations.
These seminars not only comprised most of your grade, but put you on the map as a student worth writing any recommendation letters or references for, and you desperately needed those. None of your friends were in this class, and it felt extremely daunting speaking in front of complete strangers—Seokjin begged to differ.
“You’ll be fine, Miss Y/L/N. You’re quite the speaker—I would know.”
You narrowed your eyes at him for the indirect jab. “Shut up, this is different. So much of my grade rides on this and I have to have most of it memorized, I know I’m gonna jumble my words out of nerves.”
Seokjin sighed, his eyes revealing sympathy. “You won’t, Miss Y/L/N. What you need is confidence and you’ve got plenty of that; if you’re confident, nobody will say anything.”
You absorbed his words, knowing they were right, but your frazzled brain wasn’t computing them. You promised him you’d listen to his advice but mentioned that you’d be alone, and that’s what terrified you the most. The thought of not seeing a single familiar face in a crowd was horrifying.
Seokjin attempted to say something, but you hurriedly bid him a farewell when you received a text from a friend, and took off for your school’s library.
The big day came, and there you stood, staring at a myriad of unfamiliar faces, either bored out of their minds already or preparing themselves to tune out the second you opened your mouth. Your hands shook as you held your jot notes, breathing destabilizing as the tech guy set up the projector for your presentation.
You attempted to calm down, inhaling deep breaths, counting to 10 and counting backwards, picturing everyone in the crowd naked; nothing helped the onset of an anxiety attack.
Seconds from leaping off the deep end, your eyes caught the sight of the lecture hall door suddenly opening, focusing on the figure passing through—your heart soared at the sight.
Seokjin respectfully bowed to everyone that turned their heads in his direction, finding himself a seat at the very back of the lecture hall.
Tears almost welled in your eyes, feeling your muscles relax, your body losing its tension. The small smile he flashed at you was so reassuring, you could’ve hugged and kissed him right there.
His presence felt comforting, so much so that you were able to calmly continue with your seminar. You mirrored Seokjin’s advice and lectured with confidence, able to fly through your presentation without a hitch, minus a couple stutters.
He’d congratulated you after the seminar, and seeing him out of the house sparked something… fuzzy inside you. His attire was a change from the usual preppy clothes he wore at home—slacks and a form-fitting black sweater. You suggested you two should celebrate by going out for dinner, and even though he vehemently refused, your constant whining and pouting finally won him over, dragging him through the streets of Toronto towards one of your favourite places.
You hated to admit that small, small moments like that made you like him, made yoru heart develop this pesky little soft spot for him— but they created unbelievable tensions.
It was exacerbated each time you read too much into Seokjin’s actions; his words, his small acts of kindness, his potentially flirtatious eyes that could easily just be his wittiness.
It all dawned the ability to see Seokjin in a different light, and it frustrated you more than anything.
You’d decided to bury whatever was rising inside of you, determined to squash the root before it flourished into something uncontrollable. Drowning him away with alcohol, parties, and your friends like a university student should was your choice of detox, happily enjoying those precious years even if he still remained stuck on you—literally.
It never helped seeing Seokjin’s stunning face everyday throughout your undergrad, hearing his mellifluous laugh, feeling yourself intrigued by every word he spoke, considering how seldom he did. Noticing how he habitually pouted sometimes, had cute, puffy cheeks that could fill with food similar to a hamster, and blinked his bright, almond eyes more often than he should due to his contact lenses.
You could feel your heart being moved by him.
As a result, the number of himbos that passed through your home increased, convincing yourself whatever you felt was surely just the intrigue of what if’s—and that routine continued even after you’d finally graduated university, settling for a mediocre job at the bank.
Sometimes, he’d disappear from your mind when you did that. Sometimes when all you could think about was the pleasure you felt being thrusted into, the knot tightening inside your stomach, your body vibrating with addicting ecstasy, your thoughts vanished—your heart felt at ease.
Though it all ended the second you’d wake up the next morning, and would see the aftermath of your extracurricular activities on Seokjin’s face. What complicated everything even more was the hint of… negativity Seokjin emitted sometimes, almost like jealousy. The innuendos rather became something he avoided, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours during certain rehashes, and his distant, cold behaviour wasn’t exactly alien, but unusually forced.
It felt awful, soul-crushing to see him harbour that hostility against you when you know his good side, know how sweet, supportive and compassionate he could be—he literally attended your graduation in place of your parents and let you cry into his chest with tears of happiness.
You hated that it made all your salacious thoughts rear their ugly head.
It’s what sent you to get absolutely trashed with your new co-workers tonight, only a month into your recent job. The topic of “man trouble” emerged and shit, did you spill your guts about your dilf-y butler, killing your liver shot after shot.
You only made it home after being dropped off by someone. You’d stumbled your way to the elevator, nearly falling asleep against the wall. The doors dinged open to reveal your all too familiar, and yet foreign home.
Right now it was spinning, and you swear there were two of everything.
Your shoulder smacked into the wall next to you when you lost your balance, whining at the jolt of pain. You slid down the wall to sit, drunkenly locating the straps of your heels to tear them open. You uselessly rambled to yourself, unsure of what you were iterating, but it all seemed like things you kept deeply shut in your subconscious.
It wasn’t long before you remembered you don’t live alone in this penthouse. “Seokjin!”
The volume of your own voice pierced your brain, groaning at the ache. You stumbled into the main area, shooting weary looks around for your tall, dark and handsome butler. You cringed at the word; butler never suited Seokjin. Butler’s reminded you of old, white-haired men with the autonomy of an inanimate object.
Seokjin wasn’t like that, he felt like… a friend, for lack of a better word.
“Seokjin!!” You screeched louder, nearly crashing into a side table until you felt long, warm arms enveloping you from behind.
“Woah, hey, hey.” Seokjin steadied you, the sound of his voice akin to hearing music.
“Seokjin! Oh my god, you’re home, I waz thinkin’ you bailed or sumthin.” You slurred out, unable to even maintain your balance.
“For Christ’s sake, Miss Y/L/N, did you have to get so drunk?” His voice was laced with scolding but more so concern, hands carefully gripping you upright.
You shot him a grumpy look, turning around to shove your finger into his chest. “Yes, I actually did.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You’re extremely lucky I do not tell your parents anything, even though I’m supposed to.”
You giggled as you pressed your finger to Seokjin’s pillowy lips, hushing him. “Shhh, we’re gonna keep it that way.” Another fit of chuckles attacked you, too distracted by his beautiful face to remember how to stand.
You faltered, collapsing into Seokjin’s warm chest—he caught you, delicately cradling your cheek. He checked your features, scanning each and every one before finding your eyes. They kept fluttering closed, your head lulling with its weight. He nestled his palm against your temple to catch it, and you winced with a groan, Seokjin sighing at the sight. “Does your head hurt?”
You slowly nodded, and he deeply exhaled as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “Let me take you upstairs, okay?” He secured his arms tighter around you, closely observing your face again, worry flooding his eyes.
You felt his arms slip underneath your shoulder and knees, hoisting you up into his chest. You groaned at the sudden movement, cowering into his neck that smelled of an intoxicating, manly fragrance; cedarwood and eucalyptus.
Your arms clung around his neck, impressed by his effortless strength. He carried you without a hitch up the stairs, nuzzling into him. His warmth felt enlightening, comforting, like you could remain wrapped in his arms for an eternity. Your body buzzed with incessant flickers of electricity, the mere proximity of him—his closeness left you contemplating his tempting touch.
Seokjin slightly pushed open a door with his foot, using yours to hit the light switch. It wasn’t until he laid you upon fresh, soft sheets, did you crack your eyes open and confusion washed over you.
“Seokjin? Where are we?”
“In my room.”
Even in your drunkenness, your insides jolted, startled. You’ve never set foot in Seokjin’s room; if anything, it never even occurred to you what Seokjin’s room would look like. Your room never failed to shout your personality to anyone who entered; its blue-ish, light gray walls allowed any colour in your room to pop, the aesthetic decorations, posters, shelves of books with a TV housing all kinds of consoles—it was effortlessly you.
But Seokjin’s room… your heart hammered as you curiously peeked around. Barren walls, you expected that much, but his furniture intrigued you. They were all an earthy, walnut coloured wood, almost antique looking. The Persian rug didn’t slip your attention, neither the stunning mantle belonging to a cozy, stone fireplace—your eyes couldn’t help but pop.
“Never been in my room before, have you?” His silky voice reminded you that he was here, and that you were currently laying drunk in his bed.
He stood with his arms crossed, leaning against his dresser, bewitching eyes on you—you gulped. “I… um, no.”
Seokjin bounced a brow. “Nice to know you never snooped.”
You sent him a gentle smile before a sudden ache plagued your head, groaning. Your hand nestled against your temple to nurse the pain, nearly flattering backwards.
“Hey,” Seokjin cooed, immediately joining your side. He replaced your hand with his own, carefully studying your features. “Did you eat anything tonight? Drink any water?”
You faintly nodded, sleepily meeting his eyes—it’s extremely difficult not to stare at his flawless features. He appeared beautiful to you, with his full lips and milky smooth skin, the small portion of his chest peeking out from his dress shirt ruining you.
Your chest expanded with bright colours and fuzzy sensations. Usually, you would’ve squashed the feeling, but for now, you were letting the alcohol sate your logical side, indulging in the desires of your heart.
Seokjin maintained eye contact, noticing that he faintly switched between your irises and your lips—your heart continued to thud against your ribcage.
“You need some sleep, alright?” Seokjin instructed, rubbing your upper arms. “C’mon, lay down.” You let him position your body on his bed, his gentle hands situating your head above his pillow—your eyes couldn’t leave his face for the life of you.
“Why did you take me to your room?” You softly asked, innocently peering up at him.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you feel uncomfortable in my room?” He immediately backtracked. “I didn’t want to invade your room for privacy concerns–”
“It’s okay, Seokjin.” You pacified him, reaching out a hand to clasp his wrist. “I’m fine here.”
He breathed a sigh of relief at that. He gripped the covers underneath your body and casted them over you, carefully tucking you in. He smoothed your hair once you were cozied up, feeling sleep attack your conscious. But you didn’t wish to sleep, you wanted to remain in this moment with Seokjin, no matter how small and quiet, just to admire him, adore him, to let your heart throb for him.
Your admiration was interrupted when Seokjin spoke. “I’ll let you sleep, alright?” He rose from your side, turning on you towards the door. You felt a wave of panic, immediately grasping his hand.
“Wait, why are you leaving?” You nearly cringed at your own voice; it sounded so frail.
Seokjin whirled back around, his expression sympathetic. “You need sleep, Miss Y/L/N, I don’t want to disturb you.”
“You could never disturb me…” You faintly whispered, features etched with sadness. Seokjin’s eyebrows twitched with confusion, until you grew annoyed, shooting up from your laid position. “Why are you trying so hard to leave? Do I bother you or something? Never had a drunk girl in your bed?”
Seokjin was shocked at first, but his features melted into a laugh—his smile shot an arrow through your heart. “Even drunk, you’re still yourself, huh?”
You scoffed, picking at the fuzzies on his comforter. “Do you really want to leave?”
You didn’t watch his expression, until curiosity killed you. You glanced up to find him deep in thought, almost wrestling with his own mind, a civil war between his logic and his emotions, until he finally straightened up—his eyes revealed an undeniable truth.
“No, I don’t.”
You cracked a small smile, moving aside on his bed to suggest he occupy the space. Seokjin hesitated, but determination spread across his features, soon flashing you a kind smile. He slipped into the covers next to you, his long, broad body stretching out to settle into his side. He remained slightly seated as you slowly, steadily fit beside him, resting your head on his chest.
He froze for half a second, before he softened, allowing himself to fix the covers over you and eventually hold you against him. You relaxed into his body, something about the warmth, the security that felt like no other.
You’ve had your body pressed against a line of men, and yet, none of them ever made you feel this buzz you felt with Seokjin, this uncontrollable sensation of sparks flying inside you. You hiked up your knee to lay it over his leg, forgetting that it was bare in your dress.
Seokjin didn’t freeze this time, rather began stroking your arm, soft and steady, like a rhythmic lullaby to help you sleep.
“Why do you put up with me?” The question unexpectedly spilled out of you; the alcohol was causing sentimentality to overwhelm you, consumed by the feeling of being… cared for. You’ve seldom felt such a thing, not with your millionaire parents who rarely batted an eye in your direction, not by friends who desired nothing deeper than the connections your wealth offered, and certainly not by a man who preferred your body rather than you.
Seokjin felt like the only one who cared, the only one who not only put up with your ridiculous behaviour, but knew how to nurse it, to nurse you.
“Who says that I do?” He joked, and you breathed a laugh.
“I’m serious, Seokjin.”
You felt him smile, leaning back so that his head rested against the backboard. His fingertips affectionately floated across your skin, almost tugging you into dreamland. “I wouldn’t say it’s putting up with you, it’s… attempting to understand you, Miss Y/L/N.”
“Understand me?”
“Nobody’s ever born the way they are,” you felt the soothing vibration of his chest as he spoke, the soft drumming of his heart, melting into him. “You are this way for a reason, Miss Y/L/N, just as I’m this way for a reason. And with the time I’ve spent with you, I’ve come to see your behaviour isn’t something you were born with.”
His words surprised you, letting your finger draw a useless pattern over his dress shirt. “Then what is it?”
He sighed, though without tire or disappointment, rather as a breather, as time to collect his thoughts before he spilled them. “I apologize for my words if they offend you; I do not mean to psychoanalyze your character, but your behaviour to me is a way for people to see you, Miss Y/L/N, to care for you.”
You wet your lips, thoroughly intrigued by his thoughts.
“And I would like you to know that I see you. Not only because I’m obligated to, but because there’s a part of me… that would like to take care of you. A part of me that desires to.”
Your eyes suddenly pricked with tears, swallowing away your pesky emotions. His words shouldn’t have hit you so hard, and yet, here you were, feeling every pump of blood within your system, feeling every beat of your heart, every breath you took; because Seokjin had just revived a part of yourself that you destroyed a very, very long time ago.
The part of you that loved.
“Sometimes… it’s like you’re the only person I have, Seokjin.” Your voice quavered, but you spoke anyway, wearing your heart on your sleeve, cowering into him. “Like you’re the only one who cares.”
“I doubt that, Miss Y/L/N.”
“No, it’s true,” You argued, sniffling. “You’re the only person I have… the only person who cares.” A wave of deeply-rooted emotions attacked you, using every ounce of your strength to not dissolve into tears. Seokjin noticed, anyway, comfortingly squeezing your body.
He remained silent, the kind that allowed you both to absorb the sincerity of each other’s words, to appreciate the other’s presence, and you were okay with that—you were okay with being just like this with him.
Sleep eventually overruled your system, eyelids fluttering shut every few seconds. It wasn’t until your breathing steadied, your tears became dormant and your mind stopped storming did you positively fall asleep, leaving the waking world behind.
Seokjin faintly smiled as he smoothed some hair from your face, whispering quietly. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
You smiled thinking what a dream it was, to hear him sweetly coo your first name.
Life with Seokjin became… less dull after that. For once, he would agree to watch movies with you, willingly clicked away at a PS5 controller with you when you begged enough, and most importantly, finally allowed you to probe him with personal questions.
“I’ve been in the service business ever since I was 14. I started at your aunt and uncles’ residence, though I believe we didn’t meet since you rarely visited them.”
“Yeah, because I hate them. All they ever did was ask me about my future and getting married; I was only a kid.”
Seokjin had laughed at that, cracking a gorgeous smile as he took a sip of his beer, elbows glued to his knees. “I started working for your parents when I was your age; 22. You were abroad at the time.”
You smiled bitterly. “Ah yes, the infamous British high school experience where my parents thought they could whip me into business shape.”
“I worked for them those entire 4 years until, of course, they told me about your return. I honestly believed they would send my mother to take care of you, so I was surprised when they chose me.”
You titled your head side-to-side. “They knew I’d probably slip past a sweet lady like your mom all the time. They hired you, a man older than me but not a baby-boomer to most likely bond with me, to make me genuinely want to obey, or whatever.”
Seokjin quirked a brow at you, deeply holding your gaze as he leaned in next to you on the couch. You two were currently in the middle of a Conjuring series marathon, failing to pay attention to Ed and Lorraine Warren’s lovey-dovey scene on the TV.
You were dressed in shorts and an over-sized Assassin’s Creed t-shirt, while Seokjin appeared impeccable beside you; beige dress pants and a white collared shirt poking out from a form-fitting, navy blue sweater—it was hard to focus on the lame movie.
Seokjin’s amused eyes and playful tone drew your attention to him. “You’re quite intelligent, did you know that?”
“Pft,” you snorted. “my grades don’t exactly say so.”
“Not your grades, I meant that you’re intelligent with people. You’re incredibly perceptive and understand how people work, that’s an amazing trait to have in the business world.”
His compliment shocked you, rendering you speechless. A series of gargled sounds escaped you as you searched for something to say, clearing your throat. “Focus on the movie, will you?”
Seokjin snorted, reclining on the couch. “Oh, I’m focusing. Though I believe you shouldn’t focus too much, I can tell you’re scared.”
“Scared? Me? You’re stretching, Mr. Statue.”
“More like telling the truth, Miss Y/L/N.”
“You know I’ve already seen these movies, right?” You pointed at the screen. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“You never watch them alone, is that why you wanted to watch these movies with me? Because you’re afraid?”
“Wh-what?!” You screeched. “I totally didn’t—holy shit!” Your entire body jolted when a jumpscare appears on screen, cowering into Seokjin’s frame next to you as his chest rumbled with hearty laughs.
It was easy like that with Seokjin, so incredibly easy. From baking with him, to late-night marathons all the way down to choosing what dresses you wore for night outs—it was all so strangely domestic, like you were already dating.
But you weren’t, because nobody ever spoke of it. You continued to feel that undeniable spark with him, experienced those all-consuming moments when his touch felt electric, where your stares lingered for too long or his words suggested more than his simple care for you.
You’re not stupid, however, Seokjin would never return whatever you were feeling. He was 8 years older than you, someone who clearly lived more life than you have, someone probably on the lookout for a wife to start a family with rather than some one-time fling or overrated relationship—he wants nothing to do with you.
Seokjin only acts the way he does because he has to, not because his heart beats for you.
The incessant denial is what led you to still seek other men, flirting with them until Seokjin vanished from your brain, kissing them until your thoughts about him would fade, touching them in bed until you forgot the desire for whoever was thrusting into you to be him.
Yes, he invaded your mind in seriously scandalous ways. You ground your teeth every time your horniness attacked you, as though you were disrespecting him, like it was wrong to see him that way. But the facts were simple; he was a man, and you were a woman, and absolutely nothing stopped you from wanting every single piece of him.
It’s what prompted you to turn over in bed this morning, groaning when you found last night’s leftover still asleep in your bed. You prodded the fairly bulky man from work, growing angry when he didn’t wake. You shook him harder until he finally fluttered his eyes open, rudely telling him to ditch or else you’d inform his work best friend, who has a not-so-secret crush on you, that he’d slept with you.
Panicking at the mention, the brawny teller scrambled his way to your foyer, waving him a saccharine sweet goodbye before slamming your front door on him. You stretched out your achy muscles as you meandered to the kitchen, kissing your teeth at the ache between your legs—you should remember that a gmy guy’s version of “rough” is different.
You plopped down by the island as you rubbed an eye, sighing when your sex, only shielded by a robe, pressed into the cushion underneath. Seokjin was bustling about in the kitchen, surprised he didn’t greet you.
“Hey, good morning.”
You were met by Seokjin’s back, who didn’t even bother to turn around. “Morning.”
His voice sounded constricted, cold—you furrowed your brows. “Rough night, or something? I had a rough one too, if you know what I mean.” You sprinkled some teasing into your words.
“Yeah… couldn’t exactly sleep.” He rigidly replied, chopping his onions quite aggressively. You swear the sudden animosity from him scared you, confused by his words… until your synapses decided to spark.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, was I loud last night?”
Seokjin unexpectedly stopped chopping, clattering the knife on the counter. “Yes, you were loud… very loud.”
He sounded as though he were grinding his teeth, and you became concerned, unable to discern what his problem was. “Hey, I’m really sorry, Seokjin. I didn’t mean to affect your sleep. Why don’t you take a nap? I can make breakfast.” You propped off the kitchen stool to join him, reaching out for the cutlery until he snatched his hands away.
“No, just sit by the island—this is my job.”
His snippy attitude actually made you scoff, even more so his angry eyes. “Seokjin, I’ve already said sorry, I’m trying to make it better by suggesting you get some rest. I can take it from here.”
You attempt to nab his knife again, only for Seokjin to slam it against the counter, his features contorting with irritation. “Didn’t you tell me you’d be staying over at other guys’ houses from now on? Why did you bring someone over last night?”
“What?” You questioned haughtily. “You’re the one who didn’t want me staying at random guys’ houses. And maybe because I can do whatever I want?” You retaliated, bitterly exhaling at his tone. “Are you forgetting whose house this is?”
“And are you forgetting what you promised me?”
You pressed your lips together with annoyance, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why are you so mad? Look, I get it, everyone needs their sleep and—”
“It’s not about my fucking sleep, Y/N.”
Your eyes widened, displaced by Seokjin’s suddenly unprofessional manner. He’s never sworn at you, let alone used your first name. His tone felt cutthroat and angry, like he could barely stand being in the same room as you—your heart sank in your chest considering such a thing.
The look on your face pushed Seokjin to recognize his mistake, sighing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be harsh.”
You shook your head with perplexion. “What is it then, Seokjin?”
“What’s what?”
“If it’s not about your sleep, what is it, then? Why are you talking to me as if you can’t stand me?”
Seokjin’s jaw flexed, his fist curling up against the kitchen counter. “It’s about your promise, Miss Y/L/N. You promised we’d make this work, that we’d learn to live with each other and that meant compromise. Why would you go back on that?”
Your face could not have appeared more puzzled. “So this is about my word? It was one night, Seokjin, and it’s not like I’ve been constantly bringing guy’s home like I used to before—I’ve virtually stopped.”
“One night where you decided to be really loud with some strange man.”
“So what?” You threw up your arms, fed up by his attitude. “So what if I was? Not like it’s anything new, and not my fault he fucked me that good.”
Seokjin stood there, fuming, rolling his tongue inside his cheek. He bitterly scoffed before fixing up the cutlery he brought out, and reaching behind himself to untie his apron’s knot. His actions confused you, worried.
“Seokjin, what are you–”
“I’m going to take a nap.” He vexedly announced before handing you the apron.
You could only replay that entire interaction while holding the cotton cloth as he disappeared up the stairs, wondering what the fuck had just transpired.
It was late night now, your penthouse only illuminated by the warm, soft pot lights in your ceiling. You watched Seokjin from the second-floor, incessantly tapping your stair railing, nibbling your lip. Conjuring what the fuck to do has stormed your mind for hours now, considering whether you should entertain the petty route, or pounce on him like an angry tigress.
Your impulsiveness finally won over, deciding to deal with this the upfront way.
You marched down the stairs to where Seokjin was fluffing up the pillows on the couch, folding your arms over your camisole-cladded chest—you immediately adopted an assertive tone. “We need to talk.”
“Talk about what?” He breezily answered, pissing you off even more.
“There is no way in hell you get to act oblivious.” You gritted through your teeth. “You caused an entire fucking scene this morning and expected me to take that sitting down?”
Seokjin swiftly ignored your anger, continuing on with his task. “I didn’t expect you to forget, but I at least thought you’d respect me enough to give me space.”
“And why exactly do you need space? What in God’s name even happened that you can barely look me in the eye anymore?” You raised your voice, closing in on him.
Seokjin lifted his gaze and connected his cool, aloof eyes with you, smiling condescendingly. “There, I just looked you in the eye.”
You grunted with frustration, stomping over to completely disregard his personal bubble. “You don’t get to act that way when I don’t even know what I did, what is wrong with you?”
“I already told you what’s wrong,” Seokjin argued. “I told you you broke your promise.”
“And why is that so important to you? We already get along, Seokjin, we’ve already made things work and improved our relationship, how am I breaking any promise?”
“Because you brought someone over,” he answered, his voice constrained with… hurt? Anger? Disappointment? It was hard to decipher. “You said you wouldn’t.”
“Alright, I get it. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I did, but last night my place was a mere two minutes away whereas his was half an hour away, I didn’t have a choice.” You explained yourself, only for Seokjin to crudely laugh.
“You could’ve just not slept with him at all.”
That’s when fury rose inside you, bubbling to the surface to break out with rage. “Is that what this is about? Me sleeping with somebody? Are you channeling some ancient fucking ideology about my body and who I sleep with?”
Seokjin’s face immediately twisted with disgust. “No, Y/N, I would never do that.” He adamantly denied you. “It’s something else.”
“What else could it be?” You pressed him, consumed by the desire to simply know. Seokjin has always been such a closed book, and you were dying to at least wedge open a chapter. “What else could be so horrible that you’re treating me like this?”
Seokjin regarded your face, every feature, flickering across the apples of your cheek, to the irises of your emotional eyes, down to the plush of your lips, until he exhaled, swallowing thickly. “Nothing.”
He turned to abandon you, but you grasped his bicep, denying him the opportunity—you sharpened your tone when you spoke. “No, you don’t get to walk away from this conversation, stop being a coward and answer me.”
He swiveled around and narrowed his eyes into disapproving slits. “This isn’t about me being a coward, Y/N. This is about me wanting to protect what we’ve already built; I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Wh–” You could barely understand him, struggling to even form a question. “What do you mean? Is this–is this about me being loud, or something? That I violated the rules we agreed upon?”
“No, it isn’t about the rules anymore.” He clearly controlled his temper, his composed though shaky voice evident of that.
“Then what, Seokjin? If it’s not the rules then what is it? What has you so worked up you’re turning into some spineless dick with the energy of a rejected quarterback on the football team–”
“It’s not about you being loud, Y/N, it’s about how much I wish I was the one making you loud!”
The world stopped, air became a luxury and your heart refused to beat. You ceased function, tongue absolutely tied—there was no way you were hearing this. “What…”
“I know, I know what you’re thinking. That I’m disgusting, that I’m some abhorring, selfish, salacious man who’s thinking about his needs and ego.” Seokjin spoke of himself with such aversion, it shocked you. “And you’re not wrong to think that, Y/N, you’re not. You can be disgusted, you can feel uncomfortable or hate me or even tell your parents and have me horribly fired, but that’s the reason, Y/N. That’s the fucking reason.”
Words still failed you, attempting to absorb every word that left his mouth.
“I’m disgusted by myself, but I can’t help that I’m a man who finds you attractive, okay?” He further explained, softly and with meaning. “And it’s not just on the outside, but the inside, too. The reason I’m so angry isn’t because you sleep with other men, I’m angry at myself for the jealousy I feel when you do.”
Your mind kept racing, clutching your camisole where your heart finally restarted underneath, feeling your world shake beneath your feet. His words were damning, life-changing, exhilarating.
“I shouldn’t feel that way; you’re not mine, you don’t belong to me. You’re someone’s daughter I was meant to take care of, and here I am having indecent thoughts every time I hear you moan, becoming angry when you scream another man’s name.” He gripped his fists tightly shut, visibly drowning in his own self-loathing. “Every time, I couldn’t help but think if those strangers were taking care of you, if they ever could like I would.” Seokjin struggled to form his next sentence, but spit it out anyway, quietly. “If they could ever care about you like I do.”
Seokjin lifted his gaze, finally connecting his eyes with your shocked ones, painfully sighing when he did. “I knew it, you’re disgusted by me.” He shook his head with loathing, swallowing so harshly you physically saw his Adam’s apple bob. “I’m going to go to bed—forget I said anything.” He announced finitely, beginning to vacate the entertainment area with ashamed haste.
Finally, your muscles decided to unfreeze, panicking when he went off on his way. “Seokjin, wait.” You grappled onto his hand, making him face you. You peered into his deep, coffee brown eyes, admiring their almond shape. You bit your lip settling your sight on his, winded to think he’s ever had the same thoughts as you—that he saw you for the woman you were, not someone to merely take care of.
You considered what words to say, reaching out to cup his cheeks in your hands, until Seokjin stopped you, his face nearly pale with realization. “No… you’ve had those thoughts too, haven't you?”
You nodded, so swept up in him you couldn’t function properly—Seokjin’s features became etched with panic in that moment. “No… no no no. You can’t feel that way, Y/N. You shouldn’t, if your parents ever found out they would never let—”
“Who cares about my parents, Seokjin? Fuck them.” You declared, softly cradling his face in your palms. Seokjin remained adamant, however, removing them.
“You belong with someone of your status, Y/N. Not somebody like me.” Seokjin stressed. “I’ve known your parents for four years, I’m meant to serve them for however long the rest of my life will be; I can’t make a move on their daughter, you have to understand.”
“And who says they need to know?” You questioned, clasping your fingers around his tightly. “This is about you and me, Seokjin, there’s no need to care about what others think.”
“You parents matter, Y/N.” He emphasized. “I’ve already kept them in the dark about your time in university, if they find even a fraction of that out, they’ll instantly fire me and anyone in my family. But if they found out I—I even tried to begin something with you, I don’t know what they’d do.”
“Then I won’t let them, Seokjin.” You sincerely promised, decreasing the space between you two, clasping his hands with meaning. “I won’t let them do anything bad to you.”
Seokjin shook his head, releasing your hands to force himself away from you. “This is a mistake, YN. All of it.” He shut everything out. “I shouldn’t have said anything, we can’t do anything.”
You became angry with him, scoffing—how could you two have aired everything out, and yet he still denied you? “How can you let them control your life, Seokjin? If you want me, then you take me, don’t think about them or everyone else, think about yourself for once. Stop serving everyone but yourself.”
“I can’t do that, and you know it.” He retorted, his face gravely stressed. “I’m meant to serve others, that’s how it works.”
“Then serve me, Seokjin.” You stopped him from walking away, pressing your hands against his broad chest, bringing your lips inches from his. Seokjin sucked in a breath, flickering between your tempting lips and pleading eyes—you sweetened your tone to reach him. “Serve me by letting me have you, Seokjin, by letting us happen.”
Seokjin appeared to strain, swallowing. He searched your eyes deeply, practically excavating your soul to determine your sincerity. But it was with adoration he scanned your features, gently wetting his lips before whispering, sad and quiet. “I can’t.”
Dejection etched into your features, disappointed in him. “So what, you’ll let other guys fuck me? Hear them do it while you try to sleep just down the hall? Is that what you want?”
He winced, but remained silent, grinding his teeth together, his jaw flexing as he did—his silence was deafening yet again, sliding your hands down to clutch his biceps.
“Wow, so you’ll stick to some dumb sense of honour rather than do something for yourself for once? Repeatedly hurt yourself by listening to me moan anyone’s name other than your own?” You bitterly provoked him.
Again, he remained silent, peering away from you—you exhaled with sheer anger. “Fine.” You finalized, stepping away from him with moisture flooding your eyes. “I’ll bring whoever I want home, then. Are you okay with that?”
Seokjin flexed his jaw, his features and stiff aura emitting disapproval, though he said nothing.
Your anger only grew. “I’ll bring half the fucking city here if I want to, let whatever stranger I find good enough to bang me.” Nothing you said was true, but you were attempting to provoke him, watching it affect him, but he practiced an annoyingly incredible sense of self-control.
You needed to see him snap.
“What, Seokjin, are you afraid you won’t be able to fuck me right?” You vulgarly accused him. “Afraid I’ll never be as loud for you as I am for them?” Finally, you watched his jaw tick and his hands curl into fists—you were clearly tapping a nerve, ready to smash it right on.
“Are you disappointing or something? A virgin?” You became bitchier, dryly laughing through your misery. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you? Too honourable to take away a woman’s virtue?”
Seokjin twitched, grinding his teeth. “I’m not a virgin.”
“So what, out of practice? Out of commission? We don’t need to keep secrets, Jinnie.” You spoke with a saccharine sweet tone, approaching him to skim a finger across his chest, seductively watching yourself do so. “Are you bad at sex? Don’t know where the clit is?”
Your taunting seemed to be working, but he was an iron-clad wall defneded against all attacks, and your weapon was made of measly wood—your tongue immediately sharpened. “Are you not well-endowed or something? Because I promise you, baby, it’s about how you rock the boat, not the size of it.”
Seokjin’s breathing was clearly destabilizing, his eyes swirling with carnal energy, though he maintained himself, simply grinding his teeth. Your smile brightened, splaying your hand across his impeccable jaw. “This is too bad, Seokjin, because you’re one of the daddiest men I’ve ever met. It’s okay if you’re disappointing or don’t know what you’re doing, I’d really love to see what you’ve got no matter how bad—”
And suddenly, you couldn’t speak—your arms were ensnared by eager hands and your mouth attacked by a voracious kiss. Seokjin’s hand curled into your hair as the other slithered around your waist, greedily pressing you into him, holding you as though you were the one meal he had been denying himself.
It took you half a second to feel him infiltrate every vein in your body, before reciprocating his kiss, burying your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck to kiss him just as hard. His hand slipped down to cradle your jaw, crushing your lips against his so powerfully, you were certain he could consume every inch of you.
You groaned when his tongue swiped your bottom lip, breaking away to search his eyes. They were blown out, hungry, insatiable—your core pulsed with need so urgent, you crashed your mouth onto his again.
Seokjin’s strength suddenly came into play, his tongue plunging inside your mouth to taste you. You breathed him in, felt your body buzz when you heard him moan for the first time, and each nerve ending within you exploded.
Your hands glided down his neck, urgently gripping the collar of his shirt. You tugged him onto your lips harshly, impossibly close to him. The taste of him was euphoric, relishing in the luxurious feel of his luscious lips, licking and biting them as you pleased.
It wasn’t long before your sex was crying out; you needed to move this elsewhere.
You carefully pulled Seokjin along with you, stepping backwards until you felt the couch hit the back of your knees, and you smirked into the kiss. Spinning around, you shoved Seokjin onto the couch, watching him falter back. You immediately climbed his tempting lap, arms entangling around his neck to shamelessly collide your lips once again.
Your tongues swirled and danced around each other, making out with no care in the world. His hands ceaselessly roamed your back as though it were a maze, moaning when your hips instinctively grinded over his crotch. You indulged in the delicious control, finally able to ravish Seokjin after the countless times you’d fantasized about him.
Disconnecting your lips to skim them down his impeccable jaw, you reached his thick neck. Slowly, you left a trail of hot kisses down his throat, occasionally sucking where you desired. You wanted to mark him and see the results the next day, wanted to claim him even if you couldn’t have him—it felt exhilarating knowing that.
Seokjin’s fingers weaved through your hair, moaning as you marked him for your own, but it wasn’t until you ensnared his wrists and forced them back, did he suddenly snap. Within a second, it was your wrists that were locked—he elevated his hips and shoved you down into the couch cushions, now holding your hands hostage above your head, his body hovering over yours.
“No.” He demanded with such vehemence, you felt a new spark of arousal surge through you. “No touching, no controlling.”
“But, I–”
“No.” He commanded harsher, his grip strong enough that you actually believed you were leaking over the couch. “You believe I serve other people all the time? Don’t you? That I never choose myself, because I’m not capable of satisfying you?”
His tone was incredibly hot, sharpened with such a sexy edge you couldn’t help but stutter. “I-I…”
“Let’s change things up, Y/N.” He declared, sliding his fingers to intertwine with yours, and locking them higher above you, sighing out when he did. “Tonight, I don’t serve you—you serve me.”
You gulped, entirely consumed by the alpha male energy he emanated. Your veins pumped with adrenaline—he was finally taking what he wanted, and that meant taking you.
“Take what you want, Seokjin.” You cooed, letting your submissive energy loose. You leaned up to whisper against his lips, caressing his chiseled jawbone with an utterly bewitching breath. “Take me, and leave nothing behind.”
You reached out your tongue and licked his lips, watching the carnality swirl in his irises. His pupils dilated, and you knew you were a goner—you internally smiled brighter than the sun.
Seokjin collided his lips with yours, kissing you so deeply, so passionately, you swear you almost lost air. He broke away to eye you, consumed by irrevocable lust.
“My bedroom.” He growled, or something akin to that; this Seokjin was without his reins, animalistic, and you were going to savour every last minute of it.
You clung to him like a koala as he carried you up the steps, making out with him, rutting yourself against his masculine body all you could, so attractively powerful and alluring. Of course, nothing was wrong with 22 year-old male bodies, but something about a grown man, something about the rugged sexiness of this one, 30 year-old man is what made your pussy pulse like it possessed its own heart beat.
He practically kicked open the door to his bedroom, letting your feet touch the ground and walking you inside until your back collided with one of his walls. Your hands immediately reached out to grasp something, anything, nestling your palms against the cold paint of the wall and his dresser to manage the hormones pumping through you.
Seokjin’s hot breath fanned across your skin as he devoured you, burying his face into your neck to leave enrapturing love bites. Erotic sighs left your mouth as he worked over your neck, throwing your head back as his hands skimmed down your body, touching everywhere.
You chuckled, hands mussing up his sexy hair as you breathily sighed. “Seems like…you’ve been dying to do this.”
“Like you haven’t.” He ruggedly replied, dragging his tongue across your collarbone—you exploded with a pleasurable moan.
“Looks like… I finally got under your skin.” You moaned out between breaths, sparks of arousal lighting up your burning center. “Thought honour mattered more to you.”
Seokjin darkly laughed into your neck, and suddenly thrust his hips forward—you gasped as his hardening member collided with your core, digging your nails into his shoulders. “What matters more to me now is putting an uncontrollable brat like you in her place, Y/N.”
He breathed your name with such a low, husky timbre, you nearly whimpered with pleasure. “Then shut me up and take me, Seokjin.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, sending you a crooked smile before attacking your lips once again. Your hands clambered all over his shirt, tearing open the pesky buttons.
Seokjin collected your body in his arms before splaying you over his bed sheets, something sinful overwhelming him. The bed turned him into a different man, clasping your wrists and ensnaring them above you harder this time, voracious with his kiss.
He left your mouth to envelop your neck again, suckling deep, almost indigo-coloured hickeys all over you. His teeth grazed you every so often, exclaiming with the slightest amount of pain, but it melted into pleasure, the kind that came from knowing that he wanted you that badly, wanted to consume every part of you.
“Do you know… how much…” Seokjin began speaking, his breaths so harsh and clipped, his sentences were incomplete. “Do you know how much… I hated knowing you were with another man?”
You moaned upon hearing his husky, vicious timbre, dragging his tongue across the love bites blossoming upon your neck.
“Do you know how many nights I spent… listening to you?” He breathed, kissing down your collarbone until he reached your sternum, causing your nipples to automatically perk up, nibbling your lip to maintain your composure.
“Seokjin…”
“How many times I touched myself… wishing it were you instead?”
You sighed out erotically when he tore open your robe, revealing your bare breasts to him. His lips immediately tightened around a nipple and you squirmed, fighting against his hold of your hands, but he was much stronger—exhilarating.
“You touched yourself to the thought of me?” You groaned, met by Seokjin releasing your nipple to lick a long, indulgent stripe across it—your entire body quaked.
“Yes, I did. Multiple times.”
His confession dawned your own, moaning wantonly. “I…I touched myself to the thought of you more times than I can count.”
You felt his lips pull into a smile against your skin, sighing when he glided his tongue across your chest to entertain your other boob. “So that means you have moaned for me, doesn’t it?”
His wit made you scoff with pride, until his teeth suddenly closed around your nipple, whimpering with undeterred pleasure. He sends you the most scheming, and yet, most charming smile you’ve ever seen, finding your amused eyes with his own. “We’ll just have to make sure you’re louder this time.”
Your sex leaked incessant cum once Seokjin kissed down your midriff, pressing your hands into the sheets as your back arched off the bed, squirming with pleasure. He kissed down, down, down until he dangerously closed in on your sex—your hips immediately bucked into his face.
“Seokjin…” You moaned, fighting his hands to bury yours into his hair, but his strength was unmatched.
He pinned you down as he kissed above your center, until his lips finally pecked your pussy folds through your soaked underwear. You flinched, gasping as the pressure ignited something insatiable inside you. He continued to kiss you through your underwear, even casting out his tongue to lick you through the dampened cloth—your gasps were euphoric.
“So delicious.” He praised, enveloping the wet fabric in his mouth again, ensuring he licked your sex in the process—you bucked into his face again.
“Seokjin-!”
“I know, you should be serving me, but I couldn’t help but want a taste.” He pressed one last, long kiss to your core before gliding a hand down your body, cupping the junction of your waist. Your freed hand immediately grappled his dark locks of hair, moaning pornographically as Seokjin’s mouth began to work wonders between your legs.
You gasped as he bit your underwear to move it aside, and pressed his wet, slippery tongue against your quivering folds. Your leg quickly locked him in place, your heel resting against his back as your thighs held his head captive, but Seokjin didn’t seem to care.
He moaned once he gained a taste of you, eliciting more of your cum to coat his tongue. He sensually ate you out like that, elevating your hips for him to bury himself deeper into you, dragging his tongue over your pulsing clit.
Your hips shamelessly rode him, squeezing his hand in yours as otherworldly moans escaped you—no man has ever eaten you out like this.
“Seokjin–” You were cut off by your own moan when the tip of his tongue applied pressure to your clit, watching colours explode in your vision. This time you really crushed his head between your thighs, and he only moaned with pleasure, driving you insane.
His plump lips made a ‘pop’ as he released your sex, rising up to steal your lips for a zealous kiss. You licked his lips clean of your taste, moaned as his hands handled your body as though it were meant to fit in his grasp.
He broke away to breathe, pressing your foreheads together. “I could pleasure you for an eternity, but we’re changing things up tonight, aren’t we?”
A coy smile spread across your face, tugging him into your arms to consume his delicious lips. Seokjin moaned as his body immediately fit into yours, tongue ravaging the inside of your mouth.
Another devouring kiss later, Seokjin turned onto his side so his back landed into the sheets, your figure now on top of him. You utilized the opportunity to drink him in, hands molding to his every muscle, memorizing the soft sensation of his impeccable skin, skimming your fingers over his tempting happy trail.
Seokjin suddenly grabbed your hands, tugging you down so that your faces hovered just by each other. “You feel amazing, Y/N, really amazing. But I need something else.” He whispered, weaving his fingers through your hair until he gently pulled it. “Suck me off, right here, right now.”
His demanding tone dampened your core, pussy burning brighter than the sun. You didn’t need to be told twice, something inside you was adamant that Seokjin was certainly well-endowed—his personality screamed big dick energy.
And you weren’t wrong.
Once you’d trailed hot kisses down his body until you unearthed his semi-hard length, your mouth watered at the delicious sight of him. He was thick and girthy, sinfully long, and with a leaking, pulsing tip crying for attention—you couldn’t help but pounce.
You moaned as your tastebuds were hit with the taste of his pre-cum—he tasted delicious unlike many of your other partners. He was addicting, motivating you to teasingly drag your tongue across his cock just to coax more cum out of him, relishing the sounds of his deep, deep groans, his hand tightening in your hair to convey his need.
“Y/N…” he breathily moaned, causing your body to jolt with arousal.
“Yes, Seokjin?” You coquettishly answered, slowly, purposefully licking a lengthy stripe up the underside of his dick, finally swirling it around his red tip—he choked out a groan.
“If you don’t stop… I’ll ravage your pretty face, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment softened you, even more so his sweet, charming eyes. His hand instead petted your hair, as though he whole-heartedly adored you, and granting him his wish suddenly became your number one priority.
Steadily, you sank Seokjin into your mouth, inserting inch by inch until you gagged around him, tears automatically pricking your eyes. He painfully groaned once you did; clearly he’d waited far too long for this. Your pride swelled, and you drew him out, only to hollow your cheeks and suck him back in.
Seokjin erupted with such a pleasurable moan, you repeated your actions, faster, harder, deeper until your pace caused you to slobber all over him. His tip smashed against the back of your throat, moaning just so the vibrations could drive him off the edge.
His hips naturally bucked into your face, shoving your head down until he was completely nestled inside your spongey cheeks, high off the euphoric sensation.
“Y/N… you have no clue…” He struggled to speak. “How amazing you are.”
You smiled, daring to swallow around him just to gain another one of his beautiful moans.
“My god, you’re a Goddess—you’re too good to me.” Seokjin incessantly praised you, fuelling you to increase your speed, to plunge him deeper, to supply eons worth of pleasure until he was a complete mess underneath you.
He hissed ceaselessly, grappling your hair with uncontrollable lust. “Y/N, sweetheart, you feel incredible–ah fuck.” His own groan broke him off, his sounds heightening in pitch and pace as he neared his release, as his cock powerfully throbbed inside you.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’ll cum in your mouth, you have to stop.” Seokjin groaned out, crushing his bed frame in his hand above him as the other ensnared your locks.
You ignored him, simply plastering a kittenish grin on your face before pumping him in and out of your mouth again, tirelessly gliding your tongue over his pulsing meat as he growled like madman. And when he was nearly convulsing with arousal, you shoved him so far down your throat, you choked wildly around him—a throaty, needy sound escaped him immediately.
“Fuck, Y/N… oh my fucking god.”
You pulled out once tears cascaded down your cheek, swallowing to aid your battered throat. “Since when… did you swear so much, Mr. Righteous?”
Seokjin scoffed without malice, eyeing you with hunger. “Since I decided to finally take what I’ve always wanted.”
His words surged something profound inside you, both your heart and pussy beating erratically. Your eyes connected for a small, intense window of time, before Seokjin pulled you up for an electrifying kiss. You yelped as he switched positions with you, your back now sinking into the sheets beneath, while his massive body moved over yours, passionately kissing and biting your lips.
He cradled your face as he devoured you, dipping his hips lower to grind them against you, eliciting your fucked out moans. You ached for more, squirming underneath him like a pathetic whore.
“Seokjin.” Your moan was so needy, so delicately feminine something snapped inside the usually composed man. He bit your lower lip until he grabbed the lapels of his shirt, peeling back the annoying clothing to reveal his gorgeous body.
Your eyes automatically worshipped him, hands roaming his broad, sturdy shoulders and gigantic chest. His hands snatched the robe on your body and quickly removed it, tossing away the compromising item. Your naked body laid ready in his sheets, hungry eyes demanding he plunge himself inside you this instant.
Seokjin didn’t waste a second, unbuttoning his pants to eventually tug them down, but his concerned expression worried you, palms cupping his cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Seokjin?”
“Are you okay with this?” He sincerely asked, searching your every feature to discern any sort of discomfort. “I don’t have protection.”
You softened, heart melting into mush. “It’s okay, Seokjin, I really am—I’m on the pill anyway.”
“But I should still wear protection, Y/N. It’s not just about contraception.” He stated seriously, curling your hair behind your ear. “I just want to be safe with you.”
His concern dealt a lethal blow to your chest, filled with nothing but adoration for him. “It’s alright; I trust you, Seokjin, I trust you.”
“You can say no.” He assured you, his pretty fingers brushing the apple of your cheek. “If this is how far you want to go, it’s okay.”
Something fiery and passionate overwhelmed you, reaching up to kiss him admirably, with affection to last a lifetime. “There’s nothing that can make me say no right now—I want you, I want you now.”
Seokjin cracked a gorgeous smile before finally tugging off his pants and boxers entirely, leaving him completely naked above you. His barren body ignite your bones, ready to feel him glide inside you, to become lost in the pleasure he’d provide.
Seokjin kissed you before his hand curled around his shaft, gently pumping his cock, while the other clutched the headboard of his bed above you—you bit your lip watching him, eager to feel him already. Your hands dug into his hips waiting for him, itching for him like an addict.
He cutely chuckled at your keenness, pecking a kiss to your nose. “You’re incredibly adorable when you’re insatiable, did you know that?”
“What can I say,” you nonchalantly shrugged. “Not my fault you’re the epitome of a five course meal.”
Seokjin sexily cocked a brow. “I think daddy was the term you used with me.”
“Befitting.” You confirmed, sliding your hands around his hips until they were full of his ass, squeezing him. He lightly groaned with surprise, shooting you a testy look—your smirk only widened. “I suggest you prove to me how daddy you are before I take what I want.”
Seokjin dryly chuckled, rolling his tongue inside his cheek. “Oh, trust me, I’m gonna enjoy nothing more than taming a brat like you.”
Before you could retaliate, Seokjin shut you up by pushing inside your velvety sex. You gasped as he split you open, hands immediately grappling onto his shoulder and neck, nails scratching his already sweaty skin.
“Oh my god, holy shit-!” You moaned out graphically; there isn’t a single man you’ve ever been with as well-endowed as Seokjin, the sheer thickness of him was already ending you, a pleasurable size that would doom you for all of eternity.
“Oh god, you’re tight… so incredibly tight.” He breathed out hotly against your lips, kissing them between heady groans. He inserted himself far enough until he bottomed out, earning a fucked out sigh from you.
Seokjin’s hands immediately slipped into yours, squeezing them for support as he managed himself inside you. He pinned you down into the sheets, ensnaring your eyes with a hungry, carnal look.
“Are you alright?” He panted, barely holding himself together.
“I’m perfect.” You breathed back. “Are you?”
“I’m amazing.”
And without further instruction, Seokjin drew out of your sex, inch by inch, so he could feel you squeeze him for dear life, before driving back inside. Your back immediately arched off his bed, bowing into his chest.
Seokjin encased your body in that instant, holding you against him as his hips propelled backwards, only to propel back in. Your heady grunts harmonized, breaths melding together as your figures ached to be connected.
Once Seokjin physically felt your sex flutter more open, he unabashedly began moving inside you, slowly maneuvering in and out, filling you with his thick flesh.
“Seokjin, oh my god.”
“I know, Y/N.” He breathed before stealing a kiss from you. You needed more, you craved so much more that your walls clenched around him, pulsing for him to speed up.
It drove Seokjin crazy, fuelling him to cradle you tightly as he fucked into your sex, repeatedly plunging inside. Your drawn out, erotic moans bounced off his walls, most likely echoing in the vast penthouse as Seokjin supplied you with sheer heaven in his bed.
His thrusts weren’t senseless and rough, no, they were slow and calculative, sensual and intimate, the kind that cleverly rubbed your clit as he continuously filled you to the brim. Your mouth hung open with shameless gasps and sighs, hooking your arms around his neck, scratching your nails down his sweaty back as euphoria leaked into your veins.
Seokjin’s thrusts became faster, harder, so much so that your head began banging against the headboard, and he immediately cushioned the top of your head with his hand, holding you in place as he drove into your fluttering pussy.
It was a sudden deep, long plunge of his that made you scream, breaths as uneven as your heart rate.
“Fuck…” You whimpered, feeling the bottom of your stomach stirring. “How… how do I already want to cum?”
Seokjin smirked before dipping down to kiss you, torturing you by gently swiveling his cock inside you—you swear nebulas formed behind your eyes.
“Think I don’t know how to fuck now?”
You shuddered out another whiney moan when he somehow pressed his abdomen against your throbbing clit, ending you. Your nails dug into him, cupping his jaw tightly for support. “Seokjin-!”
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” He breathed, jumpstarting his pleasurable pace once again. This time, he kicked up the speed, fucking you faster, much harder than before, and it was deliciously intoxicating. “Any of those boys ever fuck you like this? Ever fuck you like a man should?”
You shook your head, a sex-crazed haze clouding your mind and stealing your sense of functionality. You felt cosmically good; your eyes were rolling back, your cunt was burning with an orgasm that begged to be released.
“It’s why you already want to cum,” he explained, accelerating his thrusts, crushing your chest against his as his breaths fanned across your wet, swollen lips. “A real man fucks a woman to pleasure her, not only to pleasure himself.”
You gushed buckets of your essence around him, lubricating your walls for him to constantly infiltrate. All you could feel was the delicious friction his cock created inside you, the rubbing of your clit, the sounds of his deep, masculine groans.
Your orgasm was pending, waiting to wash over you so powerfully you wanted nothing but to be completely taken by him. Your hands weaved through his thick locks and hugged him closer, whimpering by his ear. “Seokjin… please, I’m gonna cum—take me.”
Maybe it was your delicate voice, so needy for him, that caused Seokjin to lose his sanity. He attacked your neck with open-mouthed kisses, sensually suckling, biting, licking his desire onto your neck as he fucked you faster, relished in the sound of your hips smacking against each other, bodies moving up and down his mattress.
The faster pace ruined you, moaning harder, whinier, becoming so high-pitched as you chanted a mantra of Seokjin’s name, it wasn’t long before he delivered one last stroke that made your clit explode, the sparks of your orgasm pleasurably burning you. Euphoria spread across your body as it jerked, fluttering your weary eyes open to find Seokjin’s hungry ones blown out, indulging in your fucked out expression.
You attacked his lips, kissing him messily and roughly—you weren’t done, you still needed more. “Seokjin…” You swallowed, coming down your high as you gripped his face, cheeks as hot as the sun. “More… fuck me more. I want more.”
Seokjin’s crooked smile was to die for, dipping down to peck your lips before biting your bottom lip, tugging it to watch it bounce back. He understood your memo, not even bothering to pull out of you before beginning another fatal series of thrusts. There was no need to go slow anymore, your pussy was split right open for his taking—and fuck, did Seokjin take.
It wasn’t long before he put every one of your bed partners to shame by fucking so rough, so powerfully and yet, so deliciously, you were a moaning mess for him. His name was the only two syllables you knew, your brain operating on sheer lust as he devoured you, kissed you, fucked you so hard your legs locked around him instinctively, and he growled like a wild animal.
Immediately, Seokjin wrapped his arms around you and lifted you from the bed, suddenly shoving your sweaty, naked bodies up against the nearest wall. Your back crashed into it, moaning erotically as your hands flailed to grip the wall, moaning like a madwoman when he buried his face into your neck. The new position allowed him to pornographically bounce you over his cock, scratching your nails against the paint of the wall.
Tears flood your eyes with how good it felt, how he felt, how decadently he pampered you with wet kisses down your throat. He dragged his tongue up your pulse point all the way up to your ear, licking your lobe until he nibbled it, sending you to cloud nine.
The stimulation was Earth-shattering, once again feeling him rut against your soaked, swollen clit until yoru orgasn began building again. You could feel him throbbing inside you, could hear his desperate grunts by your ear along with a string of curses and your name.
“Y/N… fuck, you feel incredible, fuck.”
His arms supported you as he began jackhammering into your pussy, causing screams to spill out of you, You held his shoulders for dear life, cradling the back of his head as you brokenly sighed into his ear.
“Seokjin… cum… inside me… now!”
His shuddering moan was utterly beautiful, sending you spiralling as Seokjin pressed you against the wall harder, thrusted into you so much more vigorously, sucked hickeys all over your neck and chest until they illustrated his unbridled desire for you.
And when you two nestled your foreheads together, moaning into each other’s mouths, gripping his chiseled jaw for any form of support, his fingers bruising your skin where he harshly gripped you, Seokjin released goops of his white seed inside you, tossing you over the edge.
A subtle and yet mesmerizing orgasm ruptured inside you too, throwing your head back against the wall as your body clenched around him. His forehead fell into your chest as his groans became more stable, rising and falling with uneven breaths.
Your arms lazily hugged his head, fingers gently massaging his scalp, processing the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You suddenly heard Seokjin adorably chuckle against your skin, feeling his frame rumble.
A smile tugged your lips, joining him. “Why are you laughing?”
Seokjin lifted his head, swallowing—your core pulsed at the sight of his sweaty Adam’s apple bobbing. “Because you were right—it feels good to finally take what I want.”
You nibbled at your bottom lip, containing a smile. “And I can assure you there’s plenty more where that came from—you were good, or whatever.”
You playfully feigned no effect, pretending to pick at your nails as though he didn’t just rock your entire universe.
“It’s not just the sex, Y/N.” Seokjin softly cradleed your cheek, guiging you to meet his eyes—they shimmered beautifully with sincerity. “I’ve wanted you since the second I laid my eyes on you.”
Your eyes widened. Something foreign clogged your throat, causing moisture to flood your eyes as your heart beat passionately—were you crying tears of joy? Did Seokjin actually want you for… you?
“You’ve… wanted me for four years? And never said anything?” You feebly held your hand against your heart, hoping the action could calm its erratic beating.
Seokjin breathed a fond laugh, smoothing a piece of your hair that stuck to your glistening skin. “I expected to take care of you, never to fall in love with you.”
Tears manifested in your eyes, touched by his confession.
“I couldn’t jeopardize anything if I ever made my feelings known, so I kept them to myself.” He explained, that same breath-taking, soft smile that always managed to warm your heart framing his lips. “Even if you never found out, as long as I could take care of you for a lifetime—that was enough for me.”
You sniffled as fresh tears pricked your eyes, finally spilling over your lashline. All this time you’d been a bitch to him, he’d heard you with other men, joked around with you about your lascivious escapades, advised you on what to wear for your date nights with them—he’s loved you all along.
Your lips collided with his, kissing him deeply, passionately. You couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting him to any more of that pain, not when you desired him just as equally. It didn’t matter if you two didn’t make sense, or how impossible it was to remain happily together, all you needed was Seokjin, needed his annoying stoicness and frustrating silence and his incredible sense of honour and duty.
You realized then what exactly that pesky feeling inside your chest always was—love.
You giggled, sniffling as you ran your thumb over his lips. “I never expected to fall in love with you, either.”
Seokjin’s eyes adorably rounded with shock, his lips falling into a surprised pout. “Wait, what—”
And before he could speak, you attacked him with an array of sweet kisses just to shut him up, conveying all that glowed in your heart for him. His hands curled around your body as he laughed and playfully launched you two back into his sheets, crawling under them to seal your lips for a never-ending kiss, and connecting your bodies for another ravishing night.
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Growing into Love
pairing:Husband!Seokjin x fem!reader
tags: fluff, slight angst, husband Jin, non-idol!au, Arranged marriage trope, mentions of parent issues
summary: Arranged marriage could've been a lot of things, but with Jin, it was nothing but comfortable. Maybe too comfortable that you hadn't realised when you'd both fallen in love.
masterlist | Let me know your thoughts and feedback.
“You know what Mom, I’m sorry. I thought, for once, you’d understand me but of course. My bad. Let’s just forget this. Bye.”
No matter how long it had been, it was never easy. Even years of therapy cannot make the complicated relationship between your parents and you easier to deal with. After everything said and done, you still did love your parents and you knew they loved you too. Even if they weren't great at depicting it without it affecting you.
It was tiresome nevertheless. The constant back and forth, you still hoping they'd understand even though they haven't in the last twenty-seven years and them hoping you'd finally see their side.
It had gotten easier when you had moved out after high school. You had enjoyed the taste of freedom and independence for 6 years since high school, mainly because you knew it came with a deadline- arranged marriage. It was a tradition in your family, everybody always got an arranged marriage. Even after knowing that it’s your destiny, the fear of “what ifs” had eaten you up for years.
For years you'd fought against it, but eventually, you lost all the will to fight and gave in. You had no choice. No matter how much you did, they always demanded more. Maybe you were to blame, for hoping even after everything.
With all the thoughts and the pain still fresh in your heart, you slump against the sofa on the floor throwing your phone on the coffee table. You're trying your best to not let the tears fall. Leaning your head back you just breathe and try to stop the well-known spiral that was going on in your brain.
"That bad huh?"
The voice startles you. You open your eyes to see your husband standing at the kitchen entrance looking at you. His wide shoulders clad in his favourite white t-shirt, a pink worn-out apron on his slender waist, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the soft features on his face slowly turning into concern as he assessed you.
Being married to Seokjin had been a pleasant surprise. Both of you knew what you were getting into, had spoken openly about your needs and kept to your boundaries. You understood that love was not exactly an option in your situation, but there was never any animosity between the two of you.
After a year of marriage, you'd become friends and partners/ teammates of sorts and constantly enabled each other to succeed. You had a routine, shared chores, shared your hobbies with each other and existed in perfect harmony. There was never a need or yearning for more, as it felt comfortably natural at every point.
Everything you'd learnt about him made you want to remove all the unfair pain he'd been through and protect him from further pain. One month into your marriage you got to know that his family had caused him a broken heart and forced him into this predicament. Yet he was always polite and nice to you and his family, and your respect for him grew multifold. Then you began noticing how he was often silent and blue when he thought no one was paying him attention. His smile faded every time he turned away from people which made you feel like it was you who was getting hurt.
But along the way, in the last year, Jin had genuinely become more balanced. His over-hyper nature around people and the eerily silent persona at home had slowly eased into a balance that dances on the verge of both. He makes you laugh almost every day, has cried in front of you a couple times and always cooked the most delicious meals every weekend. Jin was also a complete crackhead, especially when his younger brother Jungkook visits- which is almost all the time. Jungkook had been a big part of your life since your marriage and you would not have it any other way. Especially since it made Jin smile from his heart (and annoyed him to know bounds that you spoiled Jungkook).
"Y/N, are you okay?"
You blink at the voice, Jin is now crouching in front of you, back leaning against the coffee table as he looks at you. His eyes filled with worry, lips puckered and hair tousled. You bite your lips to prevent the threatening tears from falling down.
"Didn't you hear ?" You ask with a quivering voice, referring to the phone call you had with your parents moments ago.
"No, I was caught up in making lunch." He settles one hand on your shoulder in a pat. "But from the look on your face, I assume it didn't go well. If you want to talk, you know I'm here."
You nod, blinking more furiously in a futile attempt. He smiles and wipes the tears away.
"It's ok to cry, we spoke about this."
"I know. That's what I'm doing." You say as more tears fall and a smile graces your face. "Aha, I know what will cheer you up." His eyes widen and a mischievous smile plays on his face as you look at him in confusion. "I'll call Jungkookie, you are always happy when he annoys me. I don't get it but it'll work for now." You look at him for a moment to gauge how serious he is and end up laughing when he picks up his phone to call the younger one.
"No no Jin don't call kookie. Poor thing, he really wanted to sleep in this weekend. Plus he really needs to start hanging out with people other than us." You say between laughing as Jin puts his phone down.
"Hmmm," he thinks as he absentmindedly wipes more of your tears away and you're watching in anticipation waiting for his next suggestion. "In that case, maybe ice cream will help?" He asks with big eyes and a pout, looking like an innocent child. You immediately nod like an excited 5-year-old at his suggestion.
Jin brings you the ice cream tub you'd both bought at the supermarket and hands over a spoon.
"Here, enjoy!"
"Hehe thanks, I love you. You're the best Jin."
"Aissh, love you too. I'll go check on lunch. don't eat too much."
You were about to hum back in response but froze mid-action, ice cream spoon on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes widen in reaction and you drop the spoon on the floor. This causes Jin to stop midway to the kitchen and look at you.
"Y/N, are you okay?" He says rushing to your side. You just look at him in pure shock.
"We, I- we-" The words fail to come out of your mouth and your mind is a mess. "We what?" He asks, the concern back on his face.
"wesaidiloveyou" The words leave your mouth in such a hurry that Seokjin almost misses it. When he realises he gets more confused and replies with a shrug, "Yeah so?"
"What do you mean so? We said THE words Seokjin." The incredulous look on his face stays put and you add, "For the first time."
He scoffs and smiles. "This is not the first time."
"What?"
His smile falters, "You don't remember?" "Remember what? Jin don't mess with me now." Your voice is timid and you feel a giant lump creeping up your throat.
"You're the one messing with my head right now. Do you really not remember saying I love you to me that night?" He looks at you in disbelief, ears reddening and his pout in full display. "What night?"
"Y/N, come on seriously?" "I really don't remember Seokjin."
He stares at you for a moment too long, sighs and walks back to the kitchen. You close the ice cream tub and run to follow him in. He's stirring the stew in the pot and even though his back is facing you, you don't miss the agitation in his movements. You wait for him to close the lid on the pot and watch as he just stares at the wall. Slowly you move closer to him but he whips around even before you could tap on his shoulder, and looks at you.
"Jin, I really do not remember what you are referring to and I'm sorry. Just tell me when it was, please." You give him your best puppy eyes and he sighs leaning his head back on the shelf above, before facing you again.
"The night after we went to your cousin's wedding, in bed, before sleeping you told me you love me and I said it back." Your jaw drops to the floor. "That was three months ago," is all you say as you try your best to jog your memory of the night.
That had been a particularly rough family function- with your father questioning every career choice you had made, your mother constantly criticising your outfit choice and every other relative asking you only about your plans to have kids. Seokjin had been very comforting and stayed by your side the entire night. You remember how his hand never moved from the small of your back the entire night and how he kept running circles on your palm whenever he held them. That night you were sure you had fallen for Seokjin, but you did not remember vocalising it to him. And definitely did not remember him saying it back.
Jin's strained sigh brings you back to the man in front of you, he is doing his best to look positive and lighthearted about this and you can see it.
"Why didn't you bring it up the next day?" You wanted to say sorry, you wanted to hug him but this was the only sentence that came out of your mouth. "I figured you said it in a sleepy daze. And maybe you didn't mean it." Jin sounds so small and nervous at the moment.
"But then it happened again." He adds before you can say anything and all you can say is, "HUH?"
He rubs his palm on the back of his neck and nods. "Yeah, actually you've said it 7 times in the last three months including today."
"WHAT?" Jin looks as shocked as you do at this revelation.
"Why the hell do I not remember it?" "How the hell am I supposed to know." Jin's voice comes out sharper and you realise how all of this might be for him. But he turns back to the dish on the stove and you are left to jog your memory to see if he was right.
"The second time was when I bought you the big chocolate cake when you were on your period- two months back," Jin says in the most neutral tone and the memory comes back to you.
You hadn't even informed him about your periods, he somehow always knew. But you were positively shocked when he walked into your shared bedroom with a chocolate cake in his hand, explaining that it will ease your cramps. It might've been possible that you voiced the exact feeling you were having in a moment of joy.
"Then it was a week later when you were leaving for work." Jin is now back to stirring and assessing his pot and his voice seems muffled.
"When?" He turns to look at you for a brief second, he assesses your confused face and turns back smirking.
"You said 'I love you bye' on your way out the door, I knew you didn't realise it. In fact, you did this again twice, Kookie was here during the fifth time."
"Wha- How... Do I have memory loss?" Jin turns around and you can see the smile he's trying to control. "Don't laugh, Jin. How else do you explain my not remembering saying it?" He stays leaning on the counter with his smirk playing on his face and says, "So you definitely don't remember drunkenly professing your love for me last week and then proceeding to cuddle me the entire night until I laid you on the bed in the morning right?"
If you were shocked till now it was nothing compared to this bombshell Jin dropped on you.
"Are you lying?", "No why would I!" Jin looks convincingly innocent but it only worsens your confusion. How did you miss such an important moment of both of your lives. Your husband loves you and has said so multiple times but your brain has successfully managed to forget that. You try your best to remember but nothing out of the ordinary jumps from your brain.
He breaks down laughing- screeching noises and all, as he watches you process it. Your first reaction, post-shock, is to hit him in the arms and exasperatedly pout.
"Jin, that's not fair. Why the hell did you not tell me any of this ?"
He sobers up then and stands in front of you, holding both your shoulders and a sweet smile on his face. "I didn't mean to hide it, I just thought you didn't want to bring it up. Y/N, you told me yourself that you're a flight risk and that you weren't looking for love. I didn't want to make you panic."
"Aww that's sweet of you." He nods annoyingly smug and you roll your eyes. "But I still feel horrible that I didn't even notice it fully. I mean.. how does one forget that?" Jin shakes his head at your words and gives a little squeeze to your shoulder as he says, "You didn't forget it, it just came so naturally to you that it wasn't a big deal."
You look up at his eyes hearing his words. "Was it the same for you?" Jin gulps and rubs the back of his neck again. He's turning redder by the minute and you love seeing him like this. "Well, yeah. I actually said it a week before you did for the first time." You open your mouth to react but he interrupts you. "And no, you didn't forget it. I was scared and told it when you were sleeping."
"When?"
"Aiish, I don't remember Y/N." He's almost as red as a tomato now. You scoff at his words. "Oh please, you just listed the 7 very random days I told you I love you. And I know for a fact you remember when you first said it. Spill it, Jin." Jin is fully blushing and you're sure you are too by how heated up your cheeks feel. You continue riling him up by poking his arms till he swats you away and answers your question.
"I- Oh god stop Y/N, I'll tell.", "Okay, go on."
"It was the night you suggested we sleep in the master bedroom together because you felt it was unfair that I had to sleep in the guest room." Jin covers his hands in his face and cringes at himself while you've got the biggest smile playing on your face. You start giggling and that makes him look up from his hands with a pout.
"Ya don't laugh at me!" "No, no I'm not laughing at you. It's just... that's all it took for you to fall in love with me?"
His face immediately changes from his pout to a soft smile. "That's because I didn't fall in love, and neither did you.", "Oh." You try your best to let it not show but you know that your face has deflated just the way your heart felt.
Jin notices it and smiles before adding, "We didn't fall in love, we grew into it, and that's much better. I've fallen in love before and you know what, when you fall it feels like you're flying until you crash. I think falling in love is a sad thing." He moves closer and holds your face in his palms as you look up at him without breaking eye contact. "With you, with us, we didn't fall and we won't crash. I've been in a relationship where even the smallest things were a big deal- every 'I love you' and anniversary. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, I'm just saying I really do prefer how natural it feels to just say I love you and not make a big deal of it. With you, specifically. I love how we just started doing things together without overthinking it. So yea, we grew into loving each other."
By the time he is done you're eyes are watering and the tears flow down your cheeks. He wipes them away and you just stare at him, thinking about his words. He was right, almost all of your firsts since your wedding have been entirely unspoken. One day you just cuddled against him while watching a movie and neither of you questioned it. Or when he randomly pulled you in a bear hug and cried after a tough day, or when he comforted you during your family functions and you did the same. Even when you were busy trying to fight off any feelings because of your fear, you couldn't succeed. It all felt natural.
"Y/N, please don't cry. You've been crying since the damn phone call and now I've made you cry too." You shake your head sideways and pull him into an embrace, leaning your head on his chest and sniffling your tears in. He rubs your back trying to calm you down, which you do because Jin always knows how to calm you. You lift your head from his chest and look at him, still in a tight embrace.
"How are you this smart and amazing?" He smiles shyly and then smirks before adding, "I am 3 years older than you and I know a lot more than you do!"
"Tch, what a shame I didn't record that and send it to Jungkook. He'd be so happy to see you admit that you're old." You tease and Jin looks at you in mock anger which causes you to laugh.
"I've been realising it here and there but like you said nothing felt out of the ordinary or uncomfortable enough to question it. So... okay I agree, we grew into loving each other." Jin nods with a fond smile. "Now what?" you add with raised eyebrows watching keenly as Jin smirks and his hug around you gets tighter. Your face heats up as he leans into you slowly, your eyes trained on those plump lips of his that have always caught your attention. You close your eyes and wait for his lips to hit your lips and finally fee-
TRIINGGGGG
The sound of Jin's ringtone blaring from his pant pocket makes both of you jump away from the embrace. Recovering faster from the shock, Jin picks up the phone and curses as he shows you the called ID- Jungkook.
You laugh as Jin attends the call and immediately starts cursing the younger one and Jungkoook lets out his usual Elmo giggles and shouts for you to support him.
Jin was right, this all felt natural. This is your family, your home and you'd cherish it forever.
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meet me at the bar (ksj)
You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.
Pairing: Kim Seokjin x AFAB!Reader
Type: One Shot | Fluff w/ Smut | 18+ — Minors DNI
Word Count: 7.5k
AU: Law school, study-buddies, best friends to lovers, highly educated idiots in love
CW: Bad jokes, Latin, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), Seokjinnie hits it from the back.
A/N: My inaugural Seokjin smut is dedicated to my donsaeng-in-law (see what I did there?) @yoongiphoria, who is now embarking on this stupid, stupid gatekeeping journey IRL. Best of luck, my lil love. I'll be waiting for you on the other side of the war! MJ FIGHTING ~ Big ups to my other lil love, M, for beta reading 💕 I posted an epilogue drabble on 7/26/23.
Also: This is written based on my experience in the American legal (educational) system. I was, frankly, too lazy to study up on South Korean law for a fanfic, lol.
⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.
You are not spiraling.
You are a paragon of health and wellness, you tell yourself as you gulp down a mug of coffee that is still far too hot, like you’ll die without it.
More bitter than the taste on your tongue is the realization that you might die with it — your third cup in fewer hours. As far as you can tell, though, it’s a win-win situation: You’ll either generate enough anxious energy to finalize your property law flashcards, or you’ll drop dead before you have to review them.
And you won’t have to take that exam…
And you won’t have to pay off your student debt…
Besides, you figure, the stomach ulcer you’re likely inflicting on yourself will be infinitely less painful than dragging your under-caffeinated corpse through yet another day of studying. Another eight, consecutive hours spent forcing forgotten subjects back into your maxed-out brain.
It’s worth it, you repeat to yourself, though this gauntlet has turned out to be a full-time job that steals, rather than pays. You can faint on top of the finish line, so long as some part of you crosses it.
You should be used to it by now, running a marathon at a dead sprint. That’s all you’ve ever done — push yourself. You attended your first day of preschool and never stopped, never took a breath. Through elementary, middle, and high school; then for four years of university. Going, going, going.
Stumbling through that eighteenth lap around the track, you kept going because — well, being a student was all you’d ever been. That’s your toxic trait, you’ve since discovered. Your concept of self is rooted exclusively within the context of a classroom.
You didn’t know it at the time, but your decision to take the Law School Admission Test — or the HellSAT, as you’ve come to call it — might have been the start of a quarter-life crisis. But you didn’t stop there. No, you took that score and ran with it. Slapped it onto every application as a desperate plea for acceptance.
When you received your admission letter, you were a bright-eyed twenty-two-year-old with a bachelor’s degree and a vaguely defined dream.
Call it naïveté or call it gravitas, there wasn’t a doubt in your smooth little brain that law school was the logical next step to take. That being intelligent and hard-working made you well-equipped for the challenge that came with pursuing a Juris Doctor. After all, you’d spent nineteen years delaying gratification — what difference would three more make?
Within the first hour of your orientation, you — a professional student — had already learned something new: You were a masochist and, frankly, somewhat of an idiot.
Thankfully, you weren’t alone.
Sitting — dissociating, more like — at a nearby table was a lanky boy you’d first noticed on your tour of the law building. His glassy-eyed stare was aimed somewhere in the middle-distance, and even though his slightly agape mouth said nothing, it communicated everything. He was the only other person in that atrium who looked the way you felt: scared shitless and riddled with buyer’s remorse. A can crushed under the boot of self-doubt.
It was the first time you and your wobbly knees went running in his direction, but it wouldn’t be the last.
He was so deep in a daze at that moment that he didn’t notice the way you threw yourself into the open chair next to him, didn’t look up at the scrape of wooden legs against the granite floor beneath them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you announced your presence with words, however.
It was less of an introduction — the way people in a society tend to greet each other for the first time, ever — and more of a twister. Words whipped through the air at a dangerously high velocity, no syllable ending before you started on the next. Just one breath, a few consonants, and a pair of dark eyebrows shooting up to cower behind his bangs.
“Was — was that Korean?” He asked when you finally ran out of wind.
Judging by the way his wide eyes softened, you knew he wasn’t making fun of you. You’d simply scrambled his brain so thoroughly that you’d transcended the known limits of language.
More of a question than an answer, you peeped, “I think so. Maybe?” You wavered with a sigh. “I’m no longer confident that I know any of the things I thought I knew, though. So, um, don’t quote me on that.”
“You’re giving me too much credit. I didn’t catch enough of whatever that was —” He gestured vaguely. “— To even attempt to quote you.”
Within seconds and without knowing, he’d disarmed the bomb ticking away in your gut. He must’ve sensed it, too, because his face lit up so completely that you had to look away. One glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows confirmed that the sun hadn’t reappeared at that time of night.
That rush of warmth you felt then — that absolutely insane brightness — was powered exclusively by the grin taking up the entirety of his face. If that megawatt smile alone hadn’t rerouted your oncoming anxiety attack, the distinct, squeaking laugh that erupted out of his chest would’ve done the job.
You doubled over, either under the weight of your own giggling or with the relief you felt in finding someone equally lost. Eyes swimming with mirth, you wiped wetness from your cheekbone and snorted. “Was that a windshield wiper?”
“No, that was embarrassing.”
The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks went some dizzy shade of pink.
He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck with one hand and held the other out to shake yours.
“And I’m Kim Seokjin.”
Now, when the door of your apartment flies open without warning, it’s that same savior standing on your threshold. That designation may be melodramatic, but if that brown paper bag contains what you suspect it does, it’s deserved.
Seokjin, patron saint of breakfast sandwiches, flops down on the couch that stretches along the opposite side of your coffee table. From where you sit on the floor — hunched over your notes like a hobgoblin — you reach out your expectant arms and make grabby hands in the space between you.
You see mischief flash in his eyes, but only for a second. In the next, he’s pretending like he doesn’t see you; doesn’t hear your petulant little whines. He extends long legs out over the cushions, clutches the bag to his chest, and lets his head roll back to rest on the couch’s arm.
“Wanna know what I did today instead of practice essays?” He asks, eyes unfocused on the ceiling above.
All you actually want is whatever that smell is. You can’t stop staring at the bag of food in his hands. If you try hard enough, maybe you can summon some sort of psychic energy, make it levitate towards you.
He doesn’t wait for your response. “The math.”
“Huh?”
You frown; and as you do, you reluctantly shift your gaze from Seokjin’s hands to his face. He isn’t looking your way, but you can tell he’s grimacing based solely on the way his jaw twitches. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ground his teeth to dust over the past three years, given how often he makes that face.
In an attempt to ease the tension in his posture, you tease, “Didn’t we go to law school because we can’t do math?”
He cracks an unwilling smile. A tiny one, but a smile nonetheless. Without turning his head, he extends his arm out in your direction. In the split second it takes for yours to spring forward like a snake, that blessed bag dangles; the scent of sausage, egg, and cheese wafts through the air and restores your will to live. Clutching your prize, halfway to feral, you tear into it without hesitation.
As you bite off more than you can chew, Seokjin prepares his rant with a sigh, “So, consider this.”
“Mmphf,” you advise through a mouthful of greasy bliss.
“Bar exam prep takes eight weeks, right? If we’re only counting business days, that’s forty — forty days, for a minimum of eight hours each.”
He becomes more restless, the more he talks. Heated, he sits bolt upright and turns wild-eyed to you.
Oh, he’s gone full-tilt insane.
“Three-hundred-and-twenty hours, then. And if you think about that in terms of our clerk wages —” He slaps his hands down on his thighs for emphasis. “— at 2,625 won per hour —”
Then, he points to you, as if the increasing volume of his voice wasn’t already holding you hostage.
“— we’ve sacrificed nearly two million won in income, just by studying for this fucking test.”
You swallow down the last bite of your sandwich, which you downright hoovered while Seokjin took the path of most resistance. After clearing your throat, your interjection overlaps with his next point:
“Seokjinnie, why didn’t you just double our monthly —”
“That’s after we paid ninety million in tuition, hundreds of thousands on study materials and registration fees —”
You cut him off. “Is this your way of asking me to Venmo you for breakfast?”
He freezes, caught fully off-guard. Shocked eyes widen like you’re the ridiculous one. “Of course not!”
He waves you off like his thoughtful gesture is no big deal. Then, like he’s tired himself out, he sinks back onto your couch. From his back, he grumbles with crossed arms, “‘M just sayin’ that I’m tired of this shit.”
You can’t help but giggle at the pathetic pout working down the corners of his mouth. “Felt,” you agree, though it feels a little bit like a lie.
Truth be told, you feel more awake now than you did ten minutes ago, and you can’t attribute it to the coffee — not when the evidence so clearly indicates otherwise.
Over the course of three years, you’ve built up quite the case against yourself. You’ve made the following findings of fact:
Whenever he pops up, Seokjin brings your mood up with him. Even now, as he marinates in anguish on your couch, his presence gives you a reason not to beat yourself unconscious with the four-kilogram prep book that sits beside you on the rug. Makes you hate your circumstances a little less, if only because you share them with him.
And, for a rapidly deflating balloon, you have to concede that Seokjin looks stunning this morning.
Unlike you and your day-three hair, he somehow had the energy to wash his. The mid-sections of some strands are still damp; the parts that aren’t frame his face in fluffy waves. His shampoo is something fruity mixed with something crisp — grapefruit and mint, maybe? — and it floods your senses, causing question marks to replace any coherent thoughts you might otherwise have. You’d be lying again if you said you didn’t want to find out for sure how soft those tresses really are.
The verdict?
Well, the jury’s still out, but you know you’re guilty.
If being down this bad for your best friend isn’t a criminal offense, it should be.
You shake your head to clear it. To smother the flame licking up the inside of your belly, you grab the certified mood killer off the coffee table and hold it up in front of you. Surely, the cure for a sexual tension headache is an eight-centimeter stack of color-coded, neon index cards covered in information you shouldn’t need to memorize in the first place.
“Exam’s in one week,” you say with a shiver.
Seokjin rolls onto his side to look forlornly at you. You are not looking at his bare hip bone, which appears where the hem of his shirt shifts from the waistband of his joggers. Nope.
You continue the search for the point you’re trying to make. “I can barely spell mortgage, let alone explain what the fuck to do with one.”
“Don’t think I know what land even is at this point,” he sighs. Dejected, he lets his arm go limp. It spills off the edge of the cushion and dangles until his knuckles brush against the rug. “What is this property you speak of?”
Biting back a grin is impossible, so you press your lips together instead. Just like that — just by Seokjin being Seokjin — the hellscape you willingly walked into gets a little brighter. Maybe, you think, you can do this.
You look down for a moment to shuffle up the cards you spent the better part of two days preparing. As you stare down at the staggering amount of knowledge you might be tested on, you can feel the crease returning between your eyebrows. Your grimace is back, too, like a reflex.
If you make it through this experience without premature wrinkles, you’ll be shocked.
There’s shifting on the couch ahead, but you don’t look up until Seokjin breezes, “From this angle, it almost looks like you’re smiling.”
His arm is no longer dangling off the edge of the couch. His entire upper body is. Knees now hinged over the backrest for balance, he’s upside-down and smirking impishly at you.
He has to know you’re in love with him, right? How could he expect you not to be?
You clear your throat and arch a single eyebrow as a challenge. “What is the rule against perpetuities, Seokjinnie?”
Like you, he can recite it in full at a machine-gun rate of fire. It’s been beaten so far into your heads that you might utter it on your deathbeds, with your last gasping breaths.
“No interest in land is good unless it must vest, if at all, not later than twenty-one years after some life in being at the creation of the interest,” he responds with a smug smile. “Easy.”
It’s your turn to smirk.
“Great. Now, what does any of that mean?”
Without missing a beat, he fires back, “Does anyone know?”
“Absolutely not. Next question!”
Having had the same day, every day, for seven weeks straight, Seokjin is struggling. He’s spent hundreds of hours on the same routine, feeling beaten down and burnt out, all the while. It goes like this:
Every morning, he wakes up and goes for a run in a feeble attempt to feel something other than dread. After that, he eats a lackluster breakfast, and then he promptly chains himself to his desk. When he finally gives himself permission to get up again, it’s dark out; and he’s too brain dead to check the hundred or so notifications that amassed on his phone during his fugue state.
Scratch that. There’s one person he responds to, no matter what. As far as everyone else is concerned, though, he’s a ghost.
Today is the first day out of the last fifty-five where Seokjin doesn’t feel like his brain is being hydraulically pressed. For the first time in too long, he fell into an old routine; one he’s missed. It started with a shower — and honestly, that was overdue — then, he swung by the café he’s frequented over the past three years. There, he made his usual order.
One iced americano, and one sausage-egg-and-cheese croissant with extra hot sauce.
Before he walked back up the block, he downed the former, but he didn’t touch the latter. The latter wasn’t for him, anyways. None of the breakfast sandwiches he ever stops for are.
The subsequent hours looked semi-similar to the three-hundred-and-twenty he’s already devoted to studying. Well, sort of. To be clear, the subject matter still sucks, and he’s still angry that he has to touch it at all, but he isn’t waiting for the sweet release of death in the same way he has been all summer.
This might have something to do with the fact that, for the first time in nearly sixty days, he’s not on his own.
More than that, he’s with you.
Having switched away from covenants, easements, and servitudes, he feels a slightly less stupid. Contract law is a little more straightforward and a little less caked in colonialism. Unfortunately, after six hours of burning all his brain cells on shit like liens, Seokjin has begun his descent into madness.
The worms are digging in, he can’t focus, and neither of you can stop — fucking — laughing.
“I’ll give you a hint,” you giggle, shifting in your spot on the neighboring cushion. You give his knee a pat that feels a tiny bit patronizing, but that makes his pulse race, nonetheless. “It’s a Latin term.”
He snorts so loudly that you do a double-take, just to make sure it wasn’t a sneeze. You both stare at one another for a beat, then comes the eruption.
“It’s all Latin!” He roars.
To muffle the way he’s wheezing, Seokjin slaps his hands over his face. It’s already tear-stained from his abject failure to keep his shit together. At least he can attempt to hide how red he knows it is.
Your laugh comes straight from your belly. You double over completely when his comes out in squeaks, hand reaching out to squeeze his forearm. It used to bother him, the sound he made when he truly loses it, but it doesn’t any more.
How could it, when it makes you cling to him like that?
Wiping at your cheeks, you take a deep breath, then sigh, “Does it help if I give you the translation?”
He doubts it because you just pinched your bottom lip between your teeth, and now, his mind is blank.
Really, it’s a fucking miracle he graduated at all with you around. You and that face you make when you concentrate have always made it impossible for him to do so. It’s why he wasn’t paying attention in class when this shit was taught in the first place, he realizes now.
To cool himself down, Seokjin grabs the Camelbak bottle off the coffee table, realizes too late it’s yours and not his — oh, well — and shoves the straw into his mouth. He nods once, firmly, and sucks in as much water as he can.
It all sprays back out of his mouth when you say:
“Naked promise.”
He had always wondered what his life would look like if it ever flashed before his eyes. Now, he knows. It’s not a montage of his finest moments, the most recent of which would not have made the cut. All he sees is you, wide-eyed, glancing between him and the wet spot that’s now soaking through your sweatshirt.
You press your lips together, probably to keep from laughing in his face. It’s a valiant effort on your part and a kind gesture, but honestly, he doesn’t deserve it. His fingers twitch as he clutches the bottle, wanting nothing more than to dump the remaining water on his face. He embarrasses himself more often than not, but this stings his cheeks like a sunburn.
“I am —” he raises his hands, flustered, “So sorry. I don’t remember waking up in a sitcom this morning, but I, uhhh, clearly did.”
When you stand up, you’re grinning. And not in that scary way you do when you’re about to retaliate for some prank he’s pulled. No, that look on your face is genuine amusement.
Thank god.
You shrug as you cross your arms over your torso and grip the hem of your sweatshirt with both hands. “All good, Seokjinnie,” you laugh. “This needed to be washed, anyway. You see that coffee stain?”
No.
No, he does not see that coffee stain because the tank top underneath your sweatshirt is clinging to the wet spot as you tug the top layer up your stomach. He feels bad for staring — really, he does — but fuck, your skin looks soft. Like, so soft that he has to grip his water bottle to keep a grip on himself.
Eventually, your tank top separates from your sweatshirt. It falls back down to where it belongs, to Seokjin’s dismay, and the sweatshirt keeps going.
“Nudum pactum,” you remind him as you pull the drenched hoodie over your head. Playfully, you toss it at him. It smacks against his chest, splays out over his lap.
Once more with feeling: thank god.
You sink back down beside him on the couch, and he can’t help but notice that you’re the tiniest bit closer than you were before. It’s innocent, just your bare knee bumping his shin as you re-cross your legs. Still, it leaves his tingling through the fabric of his joggers when you don’t move away.
The silence surges as it settles, crinkling like static in his ears. He almost doesn’t hear you when you ask him again: “What’s it mean?”
Uhhhh.
“It means —”
Unfortunately for him, the water he just forcibly ejected from his mouth didn’t help him. His throat is dry now, and he sounds strangled, he’s sure. The way you’re watching him so intently doesn’t help one fucking bit, either.
Are you doing that on purpose?
You nudge him physically this time, knuckles connecting gently and playfully with his leg. He wonders if you can hear his heart hammering against the wall of his chest in all of this quiet. You might, he figures, especially when you tuck your hair behind your ear.
Instinctively, his eyes flick down to the length of your neck. Without a curtain of hair in the way, it’s even more exposed skin that he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with. Making matters worse for him, you tilt your head to the side expectantly. His breath catches when he tears his gaze away, back up, and sees the way you’re looking at him now.
You are absolutely — without a goddamn doubt — doing this on purpose.
If that’s the game you want to play, Seokjin can play it, too. He turns away from you to set the bottle back down on the coaster he took it from. As he does, he finally answers your question — the nonchalance he’s faking even sounds convincing.
“It’s an unenforceable promise,” he replies casually. “One with insufficient consideration.”
He rights himself in his seat, stretches a bit further backwards until he’s resting comfortably against the arm of the couch. You hide it well, but there’s a hint of a pout on your lips when you clock the newfound distance.
Check, he smirks to himself, your move.
A flash of pink slips out. Your tongue wetting those lips before you prompt him more quietly than before, “And consideration is…?”
He slips up, makes the mistake of noticing the rise and fall of your chest as you take measured breaths. So, he sees, you’re buzzing with anticipation, too. He wonders if it’s him that’s having that effect on you, or the circumstances.
For all he knows, it could be pent up steam that you need to release. Stress weighing down your body that you want to get off.
Fuck, he wants to get you off.
He swallows thickly. “Can’t get something for nothing. There has to be an exchange, otherwise it’s meaningless.”
You say nothing, so he keeps talking.
“Quid pro quo, essentially,” Seokjin adds. He chuckles slightly when he realizes. “See? Told you. It’s all fucking Latin.”
The corner of your mouth twitches at his joke, but you don’t make a sound. The hand that previously pushed against his leg inches closer, just barely. It’s such a small shift that you don’t seem to realize that you’re moving it.
Maybe you feel that pull, too; the one he’s been fighting since you barged into his life without warning.
Maybe the consideration has been there from the start; a promise for a promise. I’ll jump if you do. Because it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? Since orientation.
Pulling all-nighters in the library, developing matching caffeine dependencies, getting sick too often from the strain of it all.
You and him.
Laughing quietly in the back of lectures, cold sweats through cold calls, bitching about unpaid internships while you spend indisposable income at the bar down the block without acknowledging the irony.
There are only two real differences between this night and that first one, he notes.
Now, Seokjin isn’t questioning every decision he’s ever made that led him to this point. He’s not scared shitless, not really. Not when you’re around.
You cut through the silence with a sigh that’s barely more than an exhale, so breathy that your voice dissipates as soon as it hits the air.
“Seokjin.”
He could probably hear a pin if you dropped one — can hear everything you don’t say. It’s all packed tight inside that utterance of his name like gunpowder, locked and loaded.
So, who shoots first?
You shift again. Now, when you speak, it’s deliberate and in a language he can parse.
“Tell me you want me, too.”
Bang!
His body answers for him, pushes off from where he leans until he can get his knees underneath him. He’s waited three years to kiss you, but he can delay gratification for the brief time it takes to overtake you. Pinned with his palms bearing weight on either side of your head, you wind up caged in and breathless beneath him. His right knee occupies the space between your spread thighs.
Again, it’s a miracle he’s made it this far with you around.
He hums, beyond pleased with the position he finds himself in. “Maybe. Tell me if I got the answer right.”
“Oh my god.” You toss your head back to the extent that you can, which admittedly isn’t far. Your frustration rolls off you in waves, heat palpable. “I’ll kill you, I swear.”
“Sounds admissible to me,” he teases further. He flexes an eyebrow. “Isn’t that an exception to the prohibition of hearsay evidence? Speaks to motive, I think.”
Seokjin has no idea why he’s riling himself up like this. If he could shut up — just this once — he could be kissing you by now. You seem to be aware of that fact, too, because you grip his shirt so desperately, one right move might tear it.
You huff out a laugh despite the circumstances, “This friendship is over, by the way, in case that’s not clear.”
That tiny smile on your face spreads to his. Not over, he knows, just modified. Amplified, finally. Knowing that, he continues to push his luck.
“Can I make one more joke?”
“So over!” You emphasize with a wail.
He takes a second to center himself before hitting you with award-winning drama, sincerity dipped in the kind of humor he never misses out on with you:
“You have adversely possessed my heart.”
Your jaw drops at how stupid that line was, but you reign it in just in time for his lips to crash into yours.
It almost knocks the wind out of him, the way the pieces fall with force into place. They slot together easily, just like you do. With fingers clinging, the weight of his body molding overtop of yours.
You kiss him until he forgets what life tasted like without your tongue licking into him, your little moans melting in his mouth — until you break apart, gasping for air. Panting, you ask, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting on you?”
He doesn’t, no, not at all. Thankfully, you take his stunned silence for what it’s worth. After relinquishing your grip on his shirt, you bring your hands up to cup his face gently in your palms.
With you touching him like this, he has no option but to stare down at you. Bit redundant, he thinks, since his focus has always been locked right here, right on you, by choice. Given that, it’s a little funny that he managed to miss every signal you’ve apparently sent him. But really, it doesn’t necessarily surprise him to hear that he’s even dumber than he thought.
You kiss him slowly this time, briefly, before nipping affectionately at his bottom lip. It drives him exactly as crazy as you want it to; makes his cock twitch inside his joggers, makes his brain foggy with a potent combination of fondness and filth.
Do you have any idea how many times he’s thought about this? He’s genuinely wondering because even he doesn’t know. He’s lost count of all the times he’s watched you nibble on your own lip and wished it was his instead. A million or more, if he has to guess.
Seeming to sense the way you've scrambled his brain, you nudge the tip of his nose with yours and giggle.
Seokjin can’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?”
“Thought of a good one,” you answer. Your smirk does his head in. The contrasting, goofy wiggle of your eyebrows squeezes his heart. “Better than yours, I think.”
He kisses you quick and hums, “Oh?”
You nod.
The suspense is killing him. So is the way your clothed cunt grinds ever so slightly against his thigh.
Fuck.
He wants you, he wants you, he wants you.
“You gonna make me come, Seokjin, or do I have to wait for you to file a subpoena?”
You may have to seek a refund for the prep course you paid for.
For as long as you can remember, you’ve learned best through application. You could read the same chapter, over and over, and not absorb a word. The same was true with lectures, even more so when they’re pre-recorded rambles by the weirdest adjunct professors known to man. Sure, you may eventually memorize concepts this way, but they don’t sink in deeply enough to stay. You can’t use them in any way that helps you.
To no one’s surprise, no part of your civil procedure lecture sticks until it falls into your lap.
Strike that.
Until Seokjin loses his balance in trying to take his pants off, and falls onto your floor with a yelp.
A moment or two passes while you stare at each other in shock, but that dissolves quickly. And so do both of you, right into another fit of laughter that makes your shoulders shake. Then, you jump to your feet and hold your hands out to him.
Seokjin accepts them, though he doesn’t rely on them at all when he stands back up. He seems more than content just to hold onto you, whether or not he needs you to keep him steady. You have no complaints, for once in your life.
Shaking his head, he chuckles, “Venue change?”
“I think —” You hum and kiss the column of his throat. He swallows hard enough that you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. So sensitive. “This is what they call forum non conveniens.”
He’s having none of that, and you don’t necessarily blame him. As it turns out, the shoe isn’t terribly comfortable when it’s on the other foot.
You’re lifted without warning, bent over his shoulder, and hauled off in the direction of your bedroom before you can even squeak in protest. You drop like a bag of dirt — albeit a beloved bag of dirt — onto your mattress once he reaches it; his lips are on yours to swallow the gasp before it can leave your mouth.
As eager as his mouth are his hands, roaming down the curve of your waist and over your hips. With fistfuls of the pajama shorts you hadn’t bothered to change out of, his head dips down under your jaw. The warmth of his breath is quickly replaced by that of his tongue, flicking a short, languid line along your neck.
“Want you so fucking bad,” he breathes. A shiver shoots straight down your spine and you keen, head crashing gracelessly back against the pillows. “Just like this.”
And he means it — you can feel how true it is with him settled between your spread legs. He presses his hips forward to meet your clothed cunt, cock teasing you through four goddamn layers’ worth of fabric.
His lips flutter against your earlobe just seconds before his teeth graze your flesh. He continues, voice vibrating through his chest to yours, “All the time.”
You outright whimper when he grinds against you a second time. Halfway to crazy, you knot your fingers in his hair and wrap your legs around his back in a silent plea for friction. So hungry for him that it aches.
“Seokjin, need — oh, god.”
You lose your train of thought the second his hand slides into the gap between your bodies. Long fingers slip below the waistband of your shorts and panties, too. He doesn’t stop there. Not with fingertips whispering over the mound of your cunt, not until he finds you wet and wanting.
So wet that you can hear it when the pad of his index finger runs along your slit.
His mouth curves against your neck, prompting you to shift your head on the pillow. You tilt your neck just enough to meet his eyes.
To your surprise, he’s not smirking. Not even close. If anything, he looks awestruck. Like he’s finally realizing what he does to you, how your body reacts to him. From the looks of it, that discovery is flipping his whole damn world upside down.
For once, Seokjin doesn’t crack a joke and neither do you. It’s quiet, save for your tiny gasping breaths and the ripple of his fingertip swirling over your clit. Even the moan building in your chest gets the memo. It disappears somewhere in your throat when — fucking finally — that middle finger penetrates you.
And god, he sounds so wrecked when he finally speaks.
“Tried to imagine it a thousand times, you know,” he murmurs.
You clench around his finger as it curls upwards, shiver when he starts to stroke the sensitive spot along your front wall. His thumb picks up where his middle finger left off, pressing against your clit in a way that makes you mewl.
Seokjin only stops talking to kiss you deep and leave you dizzy. It’s too brief. If asked, you’d never be able to quantify what amount of time is enough, but you know that wasn’t, so you pout.
Ignoring your little whines, he continues with a hum, “How perfect you’d feel, if I ever got this lucky.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
You laugh as you say it, but you’re dead serious: “If you keep talking to me like that, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
Marry me, why don’t you? Beautiful bastard.
“Threat or promise?”
He adds a second finger; and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore. No, the strangled sound you make while you grind against his palm isn’t funny at all, but you can’t care about that now. Your focus is stuck on remembering how to breathe. In, out. On the stars blinking behind your eyelids when they give up and flutter shut.
He works you open for him like he’s already attuned, like it’s the fiftieth time he’s finger-fucked you and not the very first. And, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing how little time it takes for him to pull you apart at the seams.
No one has ever made you cum with such little effort. You’re scared to learn what it’s like when he tries.
You catch the triumphant gleam in his eye in the split second before you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He’s earned it, you suppose, so you’ll let him relish the personal record he’s managed to set on his first time out. You might even let him brag about it, so long as he continues to make you tremble like this.
“Shit,” he chuckles low near your ear.
If he sounds muffled, it’s because you’re still waiting for your system to reboot. He knows this, knows how fucking sensitive you are, and slides his fingers out of you as slowly as possible. Still, those aftershocks throttle you; the unintentional stimulation makes you jolt.
“Yes,” you nod helplessly, squeezing your eyes and jaw shut simultaneously. “Shit is right. Perfect analysis, no notes.”
A chaste kiss is placed on your temple. It’s petal soft and subak sweet, but it functions like a defibrillator. Within a split second, he’s revived you. Eyes now open again, you exhume your face from where you buried it and blink up at him. Warm brown eyes light up when you reappear.
He’s so fucking beautiful that you almost want to avert your eyes. Key word: almost. You’ll drink in the sight of him until you drown, you think.
Seokjin looks concerned. With a shy smile, he checks in: “You okay? We can stop right now if you’re not.”
You don’t know who they are, but you know that they don’t make them like him anymore. Which is a fucking bummer for the rest of the world — just not for you. This one is all yours.
“You quitting on me, Kim?” You let your knee fall inwards to nudge his side, and you pretend not to notice how boneless you still feel. “Didn’t wait all this time to tap out early, did you?”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, nonetheless. His warm palm massages the outside of your thigh affectionately, if only for a moment. Then, he pats his fingertips against the same spot. “Shorts off, champ.”
You follow his instructions and move to shimmy out of them, but not before snorting, “Champ?”
“Fine. Old sport?” He offers with a shit-eating grin. Your shirt smacks him in the face once you peel it off and chuck it at him. He pouts. “Hey!”
“Thanks, I hate it.”
He tugs his shirt over his head, launches it over his shoulder without looking. Your unabashed stare immediately clocks the slight hint of his abdominal muscles. Lean, but not sharply contoured in a way that looks painful to touch. Soft. Perfect, even.
What lab were you engineered in?
“For someone with so many opinions, you don’t offer many suggestions.” He shoots you a pointed look while he unties the knot at his waistband drawstring. “What’s your proposal?”
You’d love to bite back at him. Really, you would, but he pulls his boxers down alongside his joggers, and every meaningful thought you’ve ever had goes flying out the fucking window. All that’s left is I want you, I want you, I want you.
Automatically, you reach out with a tentative hand, craving nothing more than to feel his velvet length in your hand. To your surprise, he stops you. He catches your hand in his, lifts it to his lips, and brushes a kiss over your knuckles.
“Rain check, baby,” Seokjin smiles against your skin. There it is. That’s the one. “Need to fuck you, posthaste, or I’ll simply pass away.”
You open your mouth to comment; he breezes right past you. He points to the mattress, then to the wall to your left. “On your side, love.”
That works, too.
“Face away from me.”
Never in your life have you moved so fast, all but throwing yourself down where he told you to. As you land with a slight bounce, you mouth to yourself, Posthaste? Nerd.
A second slips by, then Seokjin slips into the space behind you. His lips tickle the back of your neck when he kisses the base of it, causing you to gasp yet again. Maybe that’s just how you breathe when he’s around — like you don’t know how.
His hand drifts down the length of your side, passing over the doughy flesh of your ass. He gives it a squeeze for good measure — because of course he does — but he doesn’t linger, not now.
That hand continues until you feel his fingertips scratch affectionately at the back of your right thigh. He doesn’t need to ask; you lift your leg, allowing your knee to hinge overtop of his hand. Now that his hands are occupied, you offer yours to assist.
This time, he doesn’t stop you when you wrap your fingers around his length. And fuck, there’s so much of it. Part of you wants to ask where the hell he thinks he’s going to fit all of it, but you’re not a quitter, so you keep your mouth shut.
Seokjin shivers under your touch, breath catching in his throat so blatantly that you can hear it right behind your ear.
“Hmmm,” you tease, squeezing the crown gently as you circle your wrist. “Does that work for you, champ?”
His forehead drops against your shoulder. The groan you force out of him is twice as long as necessary, followed by an unwilling laugh. “You’re right, okay? You’re fucking right. It’s awful. Just so fucking bad.”
Your thumb swipes over his leaking tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum waiting for you there. You’re relentless. “Sure you don’t like old sport better? Huh, buddy?”
“Baby,” he warns. There isn’t much heat to it, but it burns white hot in your core anyway.
The stretch of his cock does, too, when you finally stop fucking with him and start letting him fuck you. The breath he holds as he enters you slowly is let out in a shuddered groan when he bottoms out. Perfectly full and fully incapable of teasing him further, you simply melt back against his chest.
He’s careful to start, testing the waters and refusing to push you too far, too fast. You want more, though, you always have. Greedy, you rock your hips back against him to force him deeper into your weeping hole. He takes the hint, fingertips pressing bruises into the underside of your knee as he picks up his pace — and you’re far too blissed to care.
He pistons into you eagerly, deliberate. His hips clap against the flesh of your ass, but the sting of it all can’t compete with the way he splits you open. Makes you reach back to cling to any part of him you can get your hands on, claim whatever you find for keeps. Buried to the hilt, and somehow, he’s still not close enough.
You’re close, if your fluttering walls have anything to say about it. You’re babbling, too, so lost in pleasure that you can only repeat — over and over — how fucking perfect he is. How perfect for you he is.
Seokjin peppers kisses down the curve of your shoulder as he thrusts. It’s the only real indication you have that he’s at a loss for words, too; that he’s compensating for the quiet. He kisses you with an open mouth, teeth grazing the space he finds, leaves a mess on your sweat-slicked skin.
“Fuck,” he grunts. You mewl. “Can’t stop thinking about —”
“Just like that, please.”
“— how many times I could’ve —”
You wail, “Shit, Seokjin, don’t stop. I’m so close.”
The staccato strokes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. Not when he kisses the back of your neck again, and not when he murmurs directly in your ear, “— had you like this, if I’d said something years ago.”
Please, please, please.
It’s all you can say, again and again, as if he isn’t already giving you everything you want before you even ask for it. Responding to every movement you make, fucking into you with precision so that each vein of his cock brings friction where you crave it. Fucking you through your orgasm when it catches you in a riptide and sends you reeling.
“That’s it, baby.” His voice is soothing despite the recklessness of his thrusts. “So good for me. So fucking good.”
You’re still gushing when he snaps his hips forward and stills, cock twitching as he lets himself go inside of you. Still trembling when his head droops forward to nuzzle against your shoulder blade, and when you feel his breathing begin to slow in tandem with yours.
Once he pulls himself out of you, a few moments pass in fucked-out silence. It’s comfortable, if you ignore the mess between your thighs — and you do, for now. Your brain is too busy to waste time on that.
You’re exhausted and bordering on delirious when you say it, but that doesn’t make it any less true:
“I might love you, probably.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t move either, which makes you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with his face smushed into your bare back. But you feel the tiniest exhale through his nose; the kind of laugh you get from him when he’s too tired to be any louder.
His reply is muffled, lips still pressed against your skin, but you hear it perfectly.
For the record, he probably loves you, too.
Epilogue, posted 7/26/23.
final a/n: i have a follow-up drabble planned for these two! stay tuned 🥰
likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨
tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @jihopesjoint @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @bbyorchid @persphonesorchid @quarter-life-crisis2 @zelchena @withluvjm @firesighgirl @whatthefsposts @iadelicacy @chimmisbae @cowboylikeyoongi @sailoryooons @axialitae @ugh-yoongi @minholykingofkorea @kookstempo @gimmethatagustd @Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhintothevoid
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back to december (teaser) (m) | ksj
title: back to december (teaser)
pairing: brother's best friend!seokjin x reader(f)
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au
summary: ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind.
note: this originally started as a one-shot for @raplinesmoon for the maui relief fundraiser, but turned into something more. since it also fit into the mold of this holiday collab, here we are!
note 2: this is part of the jingle all the way collaboration with @kpopfanfictrash, @leahsfavefics, @cybrsan, @yoonia, and @sugaurora! all the holiday collab fics have the phrase “the holidays aren’t so bad with you around.”
warnings: [explicit warnings to be posted on drop day!] language, alcohol, angst lol, time switches/flashbacks, seokjin being the sweetest until he’s not >:)), reader being damn cool, overthinking, bbf!jin needs his own warning i am warning y’all now, horribly great jokes, winter themes, relationship failures, stress/anxiety, jin being jin, did i say angst?, falling into cold water, a lot of gd yearning
mood: back to december - taylor swift, halley's comet - billie eilish, universe/snowing in la - thuy
teaser word count: 1.2k | est. word count: uhhh 20k+ lol
wanna be on the taglist? add yourself here!
est. drop date: january 2024
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It all started with an accident in winter.
Ever the gracious hosts, your family decided to throw a cookout for your brother’s birthday, inviting everyone in the neighborhood and its outskirts to join in celebration. While your brother was initially opposed to being outside in the frost, word got around that his crush of three years running would be present, which suddenly warmed him right up to the whole idea.
Typical.
You were also initially opposed—having to sit through the festivities while your older sibling hogged all the attention—until you discovered your own downfall was attending, too.
Because of course he would.
And if he was coming, you were set on making your naive self presentable and noticeable, and you still consider the day of the party to be the best you’ve ever carried yourself. You were confident, you were radiant.
Until you got bumped into the backyard pool.
You don’t even recall who knocked you in. All you remember was water rushing into your vision, and paddling through outright shame and embarrassment when you shakily swam your freezing bones to the ledge. Everyone saw you: your friends, your family, your brother’s older circle and acquaintances. In your adolescence, it was the literal worst thing to have happened to anyone in the history of ever.
But someone’s outstretched hand greeted you when you got to the pool’s edge.
And when you looked up, you questioned if you hit the bottom on the way in because the face you were seeing was a shock. Were you deceased? Did you somehow swim to heaven’s beach?
No. It was really him, the very person you got all dressed up for.
Seokjin. Handsome, reserved, off-limits friend of your brother Seokjin.
Years later, you still question why he was the one helping you out. But it didn’t matter at the time because all you wanted was to get thawed out as soon as possible.
“Come on,” he had urged. “You’ll get sick.”
Trembling because of the cold and nothing else, you took his hand and let him haul you into the house, wondering what the hell was going on the entire time. Why was he the one helping you? Where the hell was your brother?
Because not only did he lead you inside, but the boy also accompanied you to your bathroom, grabbing a towel off its rack and wrapping it around your knocking shoulder blades.
“Grab some clothes, okay?”
“Huh?”
“Go get clothes,” Seokjin ordered, moving towards your shower. “And change out of those as soon as you can.”
“Oh.” Blinking, you couldn’t decide if your shivers were from the fall or his comments. But either way, you were shaking horrendously. “Yeah, okay.”
After that, you remember being so cold you couldn’t even move your legs. Which meant that Seokjin had to lead you to your room and wait at the entrance while you hastily grabbed whatever you could find.
There was no way he was gonna catch the cutesy patterns of your underwear. No way.
When you were done, Seokjin brought you back into the restroom, the spray of water echoing through the festively decorated space. “It should be warm enough now,” he urged. “Don’t wait.”
“Thank you,” you finally huffed, hating how your shakes stifled your gratitude. “You can, uhm. Go back out there now.”
“Mm.” In the doorway, his eyes reflected the bright lights so perfectly. To this day, you still remember the way you compared them to stars. “Well. Umm. Good luck.”
And you will never forget the way you felt heat before you even touched the run of the shower.
“Yes, it’s all set. We are still on for Monday.”
“Good. This is the meeting we absolutely cannot miss.”
“Umm, yes—I mean—Understood.”
“Is everything okay over there?”
Rushing to close the door of your rental, you bite back a curse as your suit jacket catches in the edge. Because of course it does after the frantic day you’ve already had. “Yes! Everything’s”—you smush your top against your side while shutting the door again—“Fine! But I do have to go.”
“Sure, sure. Oh, one more thing—”
Right. Rummaging through your purse, you locate the keys at the very bottom while trying to ingest the four things being tossed into your ear, locking the car in a fast walk to the massive mountainside property ahead of you.
“ —then we’ll finalize the merger. Got that?”
Holy shit, your brother must be doing even better than you or his fiance is loaded.
“Hello?”
“Oh, shit, sorry. Yes, Mr. Hamada, we can do that.”
“Mm. What did we say about language.”
“Apologies.” Damn your filthy mouth for running even faster in cold weather. Because it is the goddamn arctic out here. “I will say I have been getting better, though.”
“Improvement won’t matter if you fuck up during the meeting.”
“Alright, buddy.” Your superior’s laugh grates your ear as you haul ass into the warm estate, worry suddenly gripping you when you realize that no one is walking around.
Shit, are you that late? Did you miss everything?
Skittering right to the main doors, you start to panic. Are these the main doors? They look like them. Fancy. Very fancy. Shit, shit, shit, is the wedding over—
A full body bumps into your side as you round a table bursting with flowers. Having a sound enough mind to cover your receiver, you react in a shout, “Hey, watch it—”
“Sorry!”
Wait. You know that voice.
Even though it’s one that you haven’t heard in years.
“…Jin?”
Everything slowly stops as the man turns and, if you weren’t so in shock, you would’ve noticed the way his eyes traveled from your heels to your perfectly trimmed brows.
You expect both something and nothing. Because when it comes to the person standing in front of you, there’s no telling what he’ll destroy you with next.
But what comes out is merely a tiny, chest-constricting,
“Hello.”
You stare, and stare, and stare some more. Even your boss cannot bring you back to the present with his incessant poking.
Because Jin looks so fucking handsome in his suit that’s not quite dressed yet, with hair that’s swept just enough to throw you off planet earth. Even the way his tie lounges around his neck gives you pause, because it showcases how broad his shoulders have become.
How can he look the same and yet so heartbreakingly different?
“I—”
“Later, tuna fish.”
Your heart lurches.
“They’re waiting for me.”
To your dismay, Seokjin presses a soft hand on your shoulder while passing through the ornate entrance, his lingering burn searing through as you watch him button his suit on the run.
Well. At least you didn’t miss the wedding.
You hear your sibling’s hearty shout echo throughout the hall, but you have to physically tear yourself from your spot to finally answer your boss.
And to not fixate on the one person you thought you were safe from today.
But of course he’s here. Why wouldn’t he be? Him and your brother have been inseparable since the beginning, and you should’ve known even being on different planets wouldn’t keep them apart too long.
Speaking of…
Traveling to another galaxy might solve the numbing ache in your chest. Maybe you should consider that gigantic leap yourself.
Because seeing Jin again brings you back to December.
And the frost you feel in your bones overshadows any weather brewing outside.
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tbc.
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wheee! we have a teaser! | join the taglist!
a/n: isi i hope you know what monster you're about to unleash lmao. here's to another holiday seokjin! gosh, he will keep haunting me and i love him for it. second chance with isi's initial brother's best friend!jin request? gotta love it. the one-two-three punch, i reckon. anyways, hope y'all enjoyed the teaser and i am so so nervous about the main drop but hope you like that, as well :'))
links: jingle all the way collab ; masterlist
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Tasting Jealousy - KSJ
Summary: Seokjin is more than happy to accompany you to your company's New Year's Eve party, he's not happy however, that your co-worker is trying to flirt with you. The presence of this man brings up feelings Seokjin thought he left behind him.
Word Count: 3.2k
Genre: COH!au, Cupid!Seokjin x F!Reader, fluff, smut...angst 😀
Warnings: Jealous jinnie, smut (Protected sex bcus Seokjin ain't looking to be a daddy for the new year. Soft Dom jinnie, fingering, kitty spanking - you'll see what I mean lmao.) Jin gets very sad at one point and it gave me flashbacks of a universe in which he left 🤡
Masterlist - HERE
Notes: Happy New year my darlings!! I hope this year brings you lots of joy, love and peace!! Be good to yourselves!!
Now, I love this couple so much and I just can't get away from them ajsjhsha so here you go, my last fic for the year! And guess what? You guys will finally get to know who sent MC the flower arrangements. I know a lot of you were wondering lmao. I hope to write more drabbles for these two...even though is can't be considered a drabble because it got way out of hand 😭 but! I'm not complaining! I hope you guys enjoy!!
this follows Cupid's on Holiday's What If drabble Picking Peonies
“Ranunculus.” The word is a hissed breath between Seokjin’s teeth, eyes narrowing into slits. There’s a muscle twitching just under his eye, and he should be careful. If he grips the champagne flute any tighter the fine glass will shatter.
You pause in the middle of your sentence, fingers brushing his as you take the glass he offers, head turning and tilting back a little to look up at him.
The chatter of the party populous and the soft crackle of Christmas jingles fades into background noise against the rising ring in his ears.
The man who stands across from you both must’ve been raised without manners, that or at least a little common sense. He stands tall, a inch or so shorter than Seokjin if he were to guess. They’re unintentionally matching, both wearing black turtleneck sweaters. Though, Seokjin’s coat is tweed and brushes his knees, the man’s is dark grey and stops where his hands are tucked into the pockets of his black slacks.
Its been about a minute since Seokjin went off to get you both something to drink. A minute since he spotted this man through the crowd and just knew.
It’s been about a minute since he’s walked over here, weaved his way through the crowd with a wide boxy smile and a wave in your direction. A minute of his eyes trailing over your form, lingering over the way the peach fabric accentuates your waist and flutters at your feet in soft waves. A minute since he’d leaned in with a smile and kissed both your cheeks.
A minute of him pretending Seokjin isn’t standing right here, like your arm isn’t linked with his.
Six minutes. Not like Seokjin is counting or anything.
Something burns hot in the back of Seokjin’s mind when you giggle around the syllables that make up this man’s name. You’re smiling at something he said a second ago, but Seokjin is so far in his head he didn’t hear. It’s the kind of smile you give him when he brings you your favourite treat; your cheeks puffing up and squishing your eyes. He doesn’t know if the guy’s actually funny or if you’re only smiling at him to not seem rude.
“This is Seokjin.” You say, and briefly, you look up at him, smile unmoving. There’s a pinch to your brow, probably still wondering what the meaning behind his word earlier was. A bit of pride blooms in his chest with the way you wonder; you’ve long forgotten where his distaste stems.
Seokjin dips his head in greeting when, the man – Taehyung – finally looks over at him. He extends a hand, overhead lights of the venue catching on the face of his watch that Seokjin knows is expensive. He knows because it matches his.
Seokjin shakes his hand firmly, even as Taehyung’s eyes meet yours again with a smile that seems a little more strained and a lot less boxy.
“Strong grip you’ve got there.” Taehyung's chuckle is deep as his hand falls back to his side and Seokjin only hums. “Friend of yours?”
There’s nothing in his tone that gives reason for the feeling that floods Seokjin’s chest. It rises quickly from his feet and burns the back of his neck and ears and he bristles.
“Partner, actually.” There’s an edge to his voice that he knows you’ve caught; you squeeze his arm a little.
“Ah, partner... That’s nice, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
There’s no way he couldn’t have known.
He’s not in your department, Seokjin knows. This encounter would’ve happened a whole lot sooner had he been. Seokjin had been about your work place many times over this year alone, sometimes for no particular reason. Everyone in your department knows him by now.
Office gossip spreads like a flame in a dry grass field, so it isn’t that he hadn’t known, the man just chose to blatantly ignore it.
Something about that sets Seokjin’s teeth on edge.
“Ah, well, I’m pretty private so that’s fine.” You wave your other hand, the motion careful as not to spill the champagne that sits in it.
You and Taehyung make small talk, and Seokjin drowns in the feeling that’s swimming around his head. You ask him about how his birthday went and Taehyung says it could’ve been better. And there’s a twinkle in his eyes that Seokjin doesn’t like when he says it.
Taehyung smiles, after a while of Seokjin just staring him down. “Well...all my best for the new year.” He says, the curls of his dark hair sways on his forehead when he looks to Seokjin again. “Nice meeting you.”
And like that, he was gone, back through the crowd to linger when he’d came from.
Seokjin feels you shift, and when he looks at you, you’re already watching him.
“What was that about?” you ask, a brow raised.
“What?” Seokjin raises a brow back and you sigh, tapping at his arm with hand that was looped around it.
“Jin...” You say nothing more and Seokjin busies himself with draining the rest of the champagne in his glass. He sets it down on a nearby table and you do the same, unlinking your arm from his to stand in front of him.
“Do you want to leave?” you ask softly.
“We’ve only been here two hours.” Seokjin replies, shaking his head.
“You didn’t answer my question. And besides it wouldn’t be any fun if you’re gonna be like...that for the rest of the night.”
“I’m not being like anything.” His voice is a little harsh, and Seokjin isn’t sure if it’s because he’s being called out. He sighs, brows pinching. “It’s fine. It wouldn’t be fair to you if we leave now.”
“I don’t mind, that’s why I asked. If you don’t want to stay that’s okay.”
“Why’re you so stubborn? Stop pushing it.”
You step away from him, eyes rolling as you step past.
“Where are you going?” Seokjin calls, turning as you walk, following the motion of your body with his.
“The bathroom.” You snap and Seokjin stares until you disappear into the throng of people.
There’s a low whistle behind him and Seokjin slowly turns, hackles raised again.
Taehyung is back. Barely seems to be paying him mind as he fills a plate with finger food and snacks. The long rectangular table is tucked into a corner, laden with different types of foods. He’s a bit away, but Seokjin’s certain he heard the exchange if the little smile he donned was anything to go by.
“Trouble in paradise?” He nods with his chin in the direction you stomped off to, picking a mini sandwich off his plate.
“Just a small fire. Containable. Although, I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.” If Seokjin’s eyes could narrow any further, he’d close them.
Taehyung lifts his shoulder in a shrug, “Just worrying, she’s my friend after all. Would hate to see her not have a good time.”
“Right.” Seokjin says, and then takes a breath. He doesn’t have to entertain this. He turns on his heel, walking through the crowd towards the bathrooms.
He finds you just coming out, pulling the lace of your sleeves back down to your wrists. He takes your hand, “We’re leaving.”
“Okay.”
You follow without complaint or question. Once outside, Seokjin gives you his coat because he doesn’t need it, a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to where he parked. Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you and waits until you’re situated before going around and getting in.
He turns the heat on, and the drive is silent.
After a moment of your eyes burning into the side of his head, you finally speak: “Are you okay?”
“M’fine.” Seokjin tries to keep the edge out his tone because there’s no reason to snap at you.
You still catch it, and Seokjin sighs when you go quiet. His teeth aches when he clenches his jaw, grip tight on the steering wheel. It wasn’t long before he’s pulling into the parking lot of the apartment and you’re out the car first.
The way up to your apartment is silent, and it continues until you’re both inside, taking your shoes off at the door.
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”
Seokjin feels guilt knot his stomach as you stare at him, a patient look on your face.
“I’m sorry. It’s just...”
There was still a lot of things Seokjin was getting used to. It’s been a year since he decided to break every rule set for him and stay with you. There are times when he’s blissfully unaware of it. When he’s tucked it into the far reaches of his mind in a box under lock and key and it doesn’t bother him. Sometimes though, like now, it rattles along the inside of his head, bouncing off corners.
Taehyung is the one who sent you that horrid floral arrangement on valentines day. It had long stopped irritating him whenever thought about it. The initial jealousy had come and crested like a wave and was gone then. Now it crashes in like a tsunami.
It’s not just jealousy he feels, but a strange sense of being lost. Like he’s walking through a fog with a blindfold. He’s aware of what he did, when he decided to turn his back on his duty and be selfish. He knows well there are some things he can’t ever give you.
A normal, happy life is one of them.
He can give you whatever you ask for, anything you want it’s yours without question. But what happens later? Years down the road and you’re married to him and he can’t give you the one thing you’ll want then.
The person meant for you could give that to you.
He’s being selfish. You’ve never complained, but Seokjin knows you must’ve wondered about it by now. The what if. Maybe...perhaps it would've been better if he'd followed through with leaving then...
“Jin?” you call softly, ducking your head a bit to meet his gaze, “Talk to me, what is it?”
“Do you regret it?” His voice is just as soft, looking down at his feet. He looks up, somewhere above your head, sighing, “Do you know that he’s the one who sent you those flowers?”
You seem confused for a moment, and then recollection lights in your eyes. “Oh! Oh...Jin.” you chuckle a bit and step closer.
“Don’t laugh, it’s not funny.” Seokjin groans, and meets you halfway when you reach for him. Your fingers dance at the nape of his neck and Seokjin pulls you closer by the waist.
“Is that what was bothering you?”
He can only hum, and you chuckle again. The warmth of your hand rubs circles against his back and he feels that warmth seep into his bones and settle there.
“I don’t regret anything. None of it.” You murmur against his neck, and Seokjin pulls away, cupping your cheek with a hand. His thumb gently caresses, and he meets your eyes for the first time in a while and calls your name softly.
“There are things that I can’t give you.”
“So?”
There’s a fierce look in your eyes that makes Seokjin wrap his next set of words up neatly and swallow them.
“None of that matters. You’re more than enough.”
Seokjin closes the gap between you both, pressing his lips firmly to yours. The arm at your waist pulls you close and the hand that sits at the side of your neck tails into your hair to tug at the many pins that you’d secured it with.
He spins you with practiced ease, pressing your back against the wall of the entryway and crowding your space.
He places a kiss at the corner of your mouth just to tease, and chuckles when you chase. His kisses trail along your jaw, stopping just below your ear, and he takes the lobe between his teeth.
The little sound you make shoots down his spine, and he feels your fingers curl into the fabric of his sweater. He taps at your waist, his hand trailing over the curve of your ass and he gives you a moment to settle your arms securely around his neck before he lifts.
He doesn’t need to see where he’s going to find his way to your bedroom, and he busies himself with kissing and marking the skin he could reach. The fingers of his other hand finding the zipper at the back of your dress to tug down.
He sets you on your feet, pulling back just enough to help you out of your dress, his eyes still closed as he trails his lips over your collarbone, pushing the fabric off your body until it pools at your feet. Your skin is warm where he touches, he ghosts his fingers along your sides and revels the way you visibly shiver.
The bralette you chose for the night is lace and hides nothing from his hooded gaze, your nipples taut from the chill and his caress. He thumbs at the peaks, and when you tug on the hem of his sweater, he tuts at your impatience.
His hand slides up your back, unclasping the bralette and pushing you gently back until you hit the bed. The straps slide down your arms and he tugs it off, palming at a breast with a groan trapped behind his teeth.
“Jin..” you sigh his name and Seokjin hums, tilting his head at you.
He leans into you and you fall back. Seokjin holds his weight on his hands just above tour shoulders, and his knees trapping your thighs between them. He watches you blink up at him with some confusion as he simply stares.
“Let me ask you something.” He says, and then he shift, getting onto the bed and sitting with his back against the headboard. He curls his fingers at you, and with a bit of uncertainty tinting your form you follow. He settles you between his spread legs, pressing a kiss to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder as he traces patterns against the skin of your thighs.
He spreads you legs with a gentle hand, bringing his legs up a bit so that the back of your knees hooks against his thigh. Seokjin brings his hand down quickly, the lace of your underwear does nothing to shield you from it and he chuckles when your surprised whine meets his ears. He feels you trying to snap your legs shut as the sting of his hand runs through you, the way your back arches away from his chest.
“Tell me, sweet girl.” Seokjin coos, and he decides to be nice, rubbing soothing circles against your lace covered pussy. He could feel just how wet you are, your panties slide against your slick skin with his movements, damp against his hand. “Do you think you’re deserving of my touch right now?”
Your exhale rattles against his chest, and he waits patiently for your answer. He allows you a moment to think, and he knows it’s hard, as his fingers tease at the seam of your underwear, slipping underneath to find the wetness there.
“I am.” You finally say.
“Oh, are you?” Seokjin chuckles, dipping a finger into the warmth of you just to hear your gasping moan. He presses the finger against your clit, circling once, twice, and then he stops. “Do you want me to tell you why you’re not?”
Seokjin kisses your jaw, and the slight shift of your hips doesn’t go unnoticed. “You let that man get near you. Allowed him to act like I wasn’t there. Ignored the way he was looking at you.”
“Jin, it wasn’t...”
“Shh,” Seokjin shushes you gently, fingers resuming the slow, torturous grind against your clit. “I should make you cum until you cry.”
The whimper you let out makes his slacks feel constricting. He sinks two fingers, knuckle deep into you and kisses your neck when your head lulls back against his shoulder. He watches the way his hand moves under your panties, curling his fingers against the spot that makes your toes curl.
He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear when your pussy clenches and your moans go up in pitch.
“Close already?” Seokjin coos mockingly, a chuckle on his exhale. The fingers of his other hand pinching lightly at your nipples, and then he stops, “That’s too bad, then.”
Your groan holds frustration and Seokjin unhooks your legs from his. He stands to rid himself of his clothes, his cock hard and weeping when it slaps lightly against his stomach. The reaction you invoke in him has never changed, a shiver slithers down his spine and watches at your tongue darts out to moisten your lips. You reach a hand out to him and Seokjin takes it, bending a little at his waist to press kisses against your fingers.
He fishes a condom from your nightstand – ever mindful – and then crawls between your legs, taking a moment to slide your panties down them.
“Okay?” He asks to make sure that you’re okay to continue, that he’s not driving you too hard.
You nod, and you lift your hips, pressing his cock between your wet heat and his stomach. Seokjin groans against your lips, tightening his grip against your thigh.
He moves his hips, pulling back and then pushing into you with slow, languid strokes. He kisses you tenderly, his tongue exploring your mouth. When his fingers brush against your clit, the way your core tightens around his cock has him seeing stars. His thrusts gets faster, and he knows just how quickly you’re hurdling towards your end, he watches every minute expression. The way your eyes squeeze shut and how your lips curl around his name, the scratching of your nails down his back.
Just as you reach the peak, Seokjin moves his hand away and slows his thrusts, leaving you trembling and whining. He smiles against your lips, and whispers, “Let’s take this slow.” He kisses you again, his thrusts becoming slower and gentler.
He continues to move in and out of you at a slow, steady pace, taking his time to bring you to the edge of pleasure again and again. Eventually, he begins to speed up, and he moves his hand back to your clit, sending you over the edge into a powerful orgasm.
“Fuck.” Seokjin groans, following not long after, his forehead against your collarbone. There’s a ringing in ears when he comes down, and he presses a kiss to your sternum before pulling away.
After you were both cleaned up and the sheets were changed, Seokjin holds you close as you both watch the couple of minutes tick by until midnight.
“Do you have any resolutions?” Your head is against his chest, a leg over his hip.
He traces patterns against your thigh, thinking quietly. This is another one of those human things that he wouldn’t ever grasp. You rang in the last new year with Yoongi and Hoseok while he was busy with his duties with the other Cupids in the area, so you must’ve had this question for a while.
Seokjin hums softly, “Loving you. That’s it.” He smiles when you giggle and when the fireworks start up at the stroke of midnight you both watch them light up the night sky through your open window.
“Happy New Year, Jinnie.”
Seokjin turns, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss and he whispers the words back to you.
You both lay there for a moment, quiet, and then Seokjin speaks: “You know, I could make him fall in love with his office chair or something.”
“Jin.”
tagging: @xpeachesncream @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @mssukeyna @allhobbitstoisengard @eoieopda @minmin2022 @liveyun
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1. Asterism || KSJ
(banner by @itaeewon)
Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 1: Asterism
Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it
Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta
Pairing: Seokjin x female reader
Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo
Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.
Warnings: language, drinking, angst, kissing, fingering, explicit protected s*x
WC: 9.5k
Part 1: Asterism
Asterism: (noun) a recognizable pattern of stars that does not make up the full constellation
Things start when your mother texts you asking for a favor.
To be more historically accurate, things started when you were a child. But for the sake of brevity, for a tighter focus on the now, it starts with this text -
[5:41 PM] Mom: can you do me a big favor?
When you send her back “sure”, she calls you, which you expected all along. You’re surprised she texted first at all, instead of going straight to the phone call. She’s a creature of habit, your mother.
“I cooked a few dishes and stuck them in the fridge,” she tells you. Pacing across your own kitchen, a fifteen minute drive from her place, you squint as you pass through the one exact spot where the afternoon sunlight assaults you from the window every day around this time. You’ve lived here for years - you’ve just been too lazy to put curtains up in this room. Your mother continues, her voice coming through your phone so loudly that you can hold it like it’s on speaker (although it’s not) and still hear her loud and clear. “You’ll see them, they’re in the tupperware with blue lids? Can you bring them over to the Kims’?”
“What?” you say - not because you didn’t understand the directions, but because you didn’t understand the why. She starts to repeat herself but you cut her off, clarifying, “Why are you making food for the Kims?”
“Didn’t I tell you?” she asks. “Or at least Minji? Mr. Kim had his knee replacement today.”
You call Minji from the car, but she doesn’t answer. You’ve been best friends since kindergarten; her dad’s house is just across the street from the one you’d grown up in, where your parents still live. You kids have all grown up, and away - you, Minji, and her two brothers - but Mr. Kim still lives in that same house, the light blue one that you can see from your childhood bedroom window.
You still live close, and Minji’s just a few towns over. Her brothers moved far - requiring planes and trains to get back. You see Minji at least monthly, if not more often - usually you meet for brunch at a place between your houses. Sometimes, though, you meet back home home - for holidays, usually. The last time you were at her dad’s house with her was for the winter holidays two years ago; you’d rung in the New Year on her back deck.
You try not to think about that night.
You let yourself into your parents’ empty house with the code and head straight for the kitchen. As promised, there’s a small stack of blue-lidded containers, and you load them into a reusable grocery bag you steal from the cabinet beneath the sink. You lock the house back up and head across the street on foot.
Once upon a time - for most of your life, really - you would have just let yourself in. You and Minji grew up in each other’s homes. This was your second home, her dad your second father. It had been like that your whole life. But once you and Minji went away to college, things changed - just slightly. Part of it’s just becoming an adult. You don’t barge in anymore, you knock.
You expect Minji, or maybe one of her aunts if they’ve come to help, to answer the door. Instead, it swings open to reveal her older brother, Seokjin - full lips frowning slightly, strong brow furrowed as he tries to piece together why you’re standing on his father’s doorstep holding a grocery bag.
The moment stretches, stills. It can go one of two ways - you can let it be awkward, or you can be sure that it isn’t.
“Hi,” you say, hoping it sounds breezy. “My mom cooked some dishes for you.”
Seokjin takes a minute step backwards, lips parting to speak, but then you hear your name squealed from over his shoulder and you brace yourself for impact.
Jin acts fast, grabbing the bag of food from you and flattening himself against his open front door as Minji launches herself past him to hug you, laughing.
“I called you on my way over!” you scold her, smiling, hugging her tightly back.
“Sorry!” she says, still holding you, still laughing. Jin’s still holding your food, just to the side of you, watching this display with a blank face. “I was helping my dad lay down. I left my phone in the kitchen, I think? You should see his knee, it’s disgusting. Is that food?”
She releases you and turns, heading through the house towards their roomy kitchen. You know you’re expected to follow. You reach to take the food back from Jin, shooting him a thankful smile. Your fingers brush as you take the bag, and you drop your gaze, hurrying to follow the sound of Minji’s voice as it floats through the house. Seokjin stands in place as you leave, and you hope he doesn’t see you shudder against goosebumps as you hurry away.
He’s had that effect on you since you were fourteen years old.
But that’s ancient history.
There’s a lot you want to ask him, starting with how long he’ll be in town, ending with… well. Not now.
In the kitchen, Minji is trying to make room in the fridge for everything your mom sent over. You sit at the table, watching her absently, answering whenever her chatter pauses to ask you something.
Jin joins you two wordlessly. He reaches over Minji’s head and then turns and holds out a beer bottle, offering it to you.
“Ooh, yes please,” you say, taking it from him. Minji looks up to see what you’re talking about and then nudges Jin’s shin - which is next to her head - to indicate that she wants one too. He sits across the table from you and sets a beer for Minji at the seat to his right. When she’s done in the fridge, she sits heavily next to her brother and they both look at you as they drink.
“So,” you say, because you have to say something about now, have to keep yourself from getting swept up in twenty-something years of memories that this house holds for you. “How’d the surgery go?”
“Great!” Minji beams. “The surgeons said it was exactly as expected. He’ll start physical therapy next week.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” you tell her genuinely. Mr. Kim was always important to you. You turn your attention to Jin, who’s downed half of his beer already. “Are you staying long?”
He nods, swallows, then answers. “A few weeks, probably,” he tells you. “I got approval to work remotely through the end of the month. Hopefully by then he’ll be back to a point where he doesn’t need someone here 24/7, and Minji can just pop in on him…”
He trails off, his eyes going over your shoulder, watching a few birds hop from the bird feeder to the deck railing. The deck railing where you’d hung wet bathing suits to dry on never-ending summer afternoons, where you’d placed soda cans with rivulets of condensation running down their sides, where you’d leaned with Minji as you talked about boys and school and boys again, where you’d buried your hands in Seokjin’s hair as he’d - nope.
Not going there. Not unless you want to drown.
“Do you want to eat dinner with us?” Minji asks, throwing you a life preserver by dragging you back to the present.
“Ah,” you say, letting your regretful tone do the answering for you. “I’d like to, but… I should get home.”
I should get out of this house, you think. I should get away from your brother.
She grins at you slyly. “Got that man to feed?”
You laugh in surprise. Seokjin is suddenly very interested in the label on the beer he’s almost finished.
“No,” you say. “He’s out of the picture.”
Minji narrows her eyes at you, assessing. “We don’t seem sad,” she observes finally.
You shake your head. “We aren’t sad,” you confirm. Jin gets up wordlessly and opens the fridge again, reaching for a second beer. His shoulders take up almost the whole space. You try not to notice, try not to think about the muscles of those shoulders rippling under your fingertips - enough. Enough, now.
You stand, needing the escape, needing to get away, draining the rest of your beer in one long drag that would make your college-self proud.
“Listen,” you say to the room at large, to both of them, after placing the empty bottle back on the table, “call me if you need help, okay? My place isn’t far. I can pop over if you need an extra pair of hands, or a break, or some errands handled. Okay?”
Seokjin’s still hiding in the refrigerator, taking a million years to choose between two of the same beer. Minji, oblivious, takes your hand gratefully.
“Thank you,” she says warmly, giving you a squeeze.
You start to head back towards the front door, Minji still clutching your hand.
“Bye, Seokjin,” you say over your shoulder.
He glances up at you around the open refrigerator door.
“See you,” he says. There’s something hollow in his voice.
You get it, though.
The last time the three of you were here together, two years ago, he’d welcomed in the New Year buried inside you against the back of their house, gasping your name against the inky dark of the frigid December night.
You’ve never told a soul, and you don’t think he has, either.
You’ve never talked about it at all.
You and Minji spent New Year's Eve out at bars and clubs together almost every year. The year you were twenty-six, though, something had changed. Suddenly, the idea of vying for bar space, in heels, for overpriced drinks and sleazy dudes seemed abysmal.
“We could stay in,” Minji had suggested. “Pretend we’re sixteen, sneaking booze into dad’s basement again? Seokjin is back in town for the week because he dumped that shitty girlfriend of his for the sixth time, might be kind of fun to all hang out.”
You’d pretended to dislike the idea, grimacing a little as you thought it over. Your brain snagged on dumped his shitty girlfriend.
“Come on,” she’d said cajolingly. “We can put on 90’s music and play card games, like we used to.”
You knew the whole time that you’d go; all you needed to know was that Seokjin would be there. Since he’d left for college, he only came home twice a year - Christmas holidays, and over summer breaks. Since he'd moved far, even those weren't promised.
Minji ended up with a small crowd - a few that you were friends with in high school, but most of them you thought were friends of her brothers.
You’d spent most of the night trying to avoid staring at Jin - or at least avoid getting caught staring. It had been about two years since you’d seen him last - four years since he moved away. He was twenty-eight to your twenty-six that year, and you weren’t sure if it was the way he was aging or if it was the tequila, but he seemed - somehow - even more handsome than you remembered.
It had gotten more and more difficult as the night went on to focus - on conversations, on card games, on how to balance as you walked; your brain wanted to spend its energy cataloging the quirk of his full lips when you said something funny, his windshield-wiper laugh when Minji dropped a whole tray of lemon slices she’d spent twenty minutes cutting, the strip of bare skin his shirt revealed when he bent down to help her pick them up. It was like your brain was trying to soak up every little detail of him that it could after so many years of distance, of him being somebody you used to be close to.
Eventually, you’d retreated to the back deck, alone, just minutes before midnight. Outside, the noise of the party fell away, and you took in deep gulps of cold air, your hands gripping the splintery wood of the railing.
When the door opened behind you, you expected Minji. Instead, Seokjin stood there, staring at you like he’d asked you a question and was waiting for an answer.
Maybe, in his own way, he had. Maybe it had been all the quick glances he’d given you that night. Maybe it had been the way he’d stuck close, listening when you talked, smiling wryly when you cracked jokes. Maybe it had been the way his eyes had followed you from room to room, the way his fingers had tightened around his glass when you bent down to grab one of the wayward lemon slices.
You’d stared back at him, unsure what the right move was. This was Minji’s brother, and you’d promised her almost fifteen years ago to never get tangled up with her family. This was Minji’s brother, who had bought you girls beer before you were old enough, who had once driven to pick you up from the mall on a rainy day when your date had gone badly. This was Minji’s brother who’d once held your hand in the backseat of your dad’s car as you sobbed over a broken wrist, who’d often let you sit and watch him play video games even after he’d told Minji to bug off and leave him alone.
This was Seokjin, who was staring at you so intently that for a moment you weren’t sure if he hadn’t asked you something.
“Seokjin?”
His eyes met yours.
“Explain to me how you got even more beautiful?” he’d murmured, and your heart had leapt into your throat.
“I - what?”
He was close enough to touch. You’d dreamed of this for so long - pathetically long, really. You’d never dreamed that he’d want you.
He stepped closer, and you did touch him - one hand acted without permission, coming up and resting lightly on his chest, over his heart. It had thumped beneath your tentative fingers.
Your fingers had curled in the material of the thick hoodie he’d been wearing, had pulled him just closer.
And then his mouth was on yours, searing, and your hands were in his hair, and that deck railing was pressing into your lower back as he pinned you against it, and one of his hands was creeping beneath the hem of your shirt, and you could feel him hardening against your lower stomach, and -
And through the window, you could see the party carrying on.
You broke the kiss, pushed gently on his forearm to extract his sneaky hand from inside your shirt.
“They can see us,” you’d gasped, and he’d followed your gaze somewhat dumbly, like it hadn’t occurred to him that everyone else existed in the same place as the two of you.
Then he’d taken your hand, pulling you down the deck steps, away from the glow of light from the house’s windows, down into the darkness, where witnesses would have to work a little harder to see what was going on.
He’d pressed you against the wall of the house, beneath the deck, and as you’d tipped your head back to allow him access to nip and soothe lines up and down your neck you’d thought of all the summer nights you’d spent in this exact spot. This is where the keg usually goes, you’d thought absently as that sneaky hand returned to the bare skin of your belly beneath your sweater.
You hadn’t felt even remotely cold, despite the threat of snow in the air.
You’d kissed until your lips hurt and you wanted it to hurt just a little more, your hands starting to toy with the waistband of his jeans as his thumb rubbed determined circles around your puckered nipple beneath the fabric of your bra.
“Tell me what you want,” he’d said, the words mumbled against your lips. He’d pulled back just enough, just enough to watch your face as you told him -
“Anything. Everything. All of it… all of you.”
His hand had traveled up the back of your thigh, beneath your skirt, fingers pushing the cotton of your panties aside before stroking through your center. You’d moaned, low, aware that anyone could come out onto the deck above you without warning. His breath had hitched in response, and his hand had left your pussy long enough to tug you to him again, pressing you against his hips for just a second before returning. This time he didn’t toy with you, pressing his index finger into your messy heat, followed quickly by a second digit.
You’d mouthed his name against his jaw, trying to keep yourself upright as he pressed you against the brick of the house, as he pumped his fingers leisurely, fingertips rubbing circles against your front wall until he found the place that made you gasp and buck against his hand. He’d laughed, asked, “Yeah?” in a cocky voice you’d never heard on him before. It’d made you, impossibly, wetter.
“You’re so fucking hot,” you’d whispered, half delirious, and he’d laughed again, like he knew already.
There had been a flash of foil between his teeth, the sound of his zipper echoing across the frozen backyard, and then he was pushing inside you, fingers still wet from you now gripping your hip to keep you in place.
You’d groaned in unison as he slowly bottomed out. The brick had bit at your back, the winter air had bit at your face, and Seokjin had bit at your lower lip as he pounded into you steadily.
It had been hurried. It had been hushed.
Your name on his lips when he came took the air from your lungs.
You’d wanted this, wanted him, in silence for as long as you could remember. Before you had words to put to it, before you were old enough to understand why your stomach hurt when he left the room.
It had hurt, after. The scrapes from the brick wall. Your sore hamstrings. Your chapped, cracking lips.
His silence.
You’d both missed the countdown. Happy New Year.
You don’t know what you had expected after seeing Seokjin at his dad’s house unexpectedly. Apparently, some foolish part of your subconscious thought he’d reach out to you, because you find yourself disappointed when he doesn’t.
Stupid, you think. I don’t know what you were thinking. Aside from that one slip on New Year’s Eve two years ago, you’d done a stellar job at orbiting Seokjin in silence, keeping your feelings under control and out of sight, never pushing yourself into his path but never letting him stray so far as to forget you, either. Nothing’s changed.
You tell yourself this for two days, until Minji’s name lights up your phone as you’re packing up from work on Thursday evening, your stomach growling and your feet aching to get out of their heels.
“Yeeees?” you answer her as you power down your laptop and cast your gaze around your cubicle for anything else that needs to come home with you.
“Are you still at work?” she asks, sounding a little breathless, a little irritated.
“Packing up right now,” you tell her, rising and pulling your bag onto your shoulder. You give Dale, your cubicle-mate, a silent wave goodbye and head for the elevators. “What’s up?”
“I tried your mom first, but your parents are apparently out to dinner tonight,” she says. “Is there any way you can swing by my dad’s? I think Seokjin is having a hard time with dad, and I’m stuck here at least another two hours -.”
“No problem,” you tell her, cutting off her explanation. It isn’t needed. “I’ll head there now. Tell him I’ll be like…” You glance at your watch for the time, “...twenty-five minutes, tops, if traffic is bad.”
“You’re a saint,” she breathes in relief. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I’ll get there as soon as I can. I promise I’ll hurry. Did I tell you that deal with Mr. Lee fell through? I have been non-stop -”
“Don’t worry about it,” you tell her, meaning it. “I’m happy to help. I’ll be there soon. See you later, okay?”
You grew up on a dead end. You never tell people that, now. You always fancy it up if it’s brought up in conversation - you call it a cul-de-sac, though it isn’t according to the yellow sign that marks where you turn left to reach your parents’ house.
Every inch of this street is steeped in memories for you - memories of growing up with Minji and Seokjin, running wild through these streets whenever the weather allowed it, learning to ride a bike, having snowball fights and water balloon fights and - once - even a foodfight. Thinking of your childhood with those two, you think mostly of chaos and laughter.
You miss it, a little, and that’s only a little bit nostalgia talking. Maybe the lack of chaos is nice, but the lack of laughter kind of sucks.
It takes Seokjin forever to answer the door when you knock. When he does, it’s evident immediately why Minji had called for backup.
He’s sick as a dog; his nose is red, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and sleepy.
“Minji sent me,” you explain. “She said you need help with your dad.”
“I don’t,” he protests, just a little whiny. “We’re fine. Why’d she call you? I told her we were fine.”
This clear untruth is punctuated by a fit of coughing. You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow, waiting.
He shakes his head, recovering. “It’s just a cold,” he says, doubling down. “I’m sorry you drove all the way here, but I don’t need help. I was just about to help Dad get showered - I need to get back up there, he’s waiting.”
He starts to turn to go, but you reach out, catching his sleeve. He turns, brows furrowing in frustration, but you cut him off.
“Jin,” you say seriously, “come on. I came here to help. What needs to be done? Do you want me to start heating up dinner while he showers?”
He sags back against the wall behind him, raising one hand to rub wearily over his brow, his eyes, down over his mouth. You let his sleeve slip between your fingers and you wait as his resolve cracks.
He sighs heavily, eyeing the ceiling. “Could you strip his bed and put on clean blankets? So when he’s done showering, I can put him back in a clean bed?”
“Absolutely,” you say, relieved that he’s delegated a task. He leads you upstairs silently. Your feet remember the way to Mr. Kim’s bedroom. You weren’t often allowed to play in there as kids, but you have to pass it to get to Minji’s room; you think you could walk the path in your sleep.
Halfway up the stairs, you pause, stopping by one of the dozens of framed photos on the wall. You smile, putting your finger on the glass.
At the top of the stairs Seokjin pauses, turns to see why you stopped. Something on his face softens when he sees.
“Yeah,” he says. “That one’s still up.”
You give him a small smile. The photo your finger rests on is a group shot with blue water meeting blue sky as the backdrop.
Mr. Kim stands in the middle, beaming, one arm around Minji and the other around Seokjin. Minji’s little brother Jungkook - only a year behind you girls in school - sits on the ground at Seokjin’s feet, grinning with a scrunched nose. You’re behind Minji, peeking around her shoulders, your eyes closed as you laugh. You’re all kids in the picture - Seokjin, as the oldest, is probably around ten.
You’d been shy to be included in the picture, but Mr. Kim had told you that you were one of his kids in spirit if nothing else. You’d all been at the lake that day. Seokjin had been the one who made you and Jungkook laugh as the camera snapped. You remember it like it was yesterday. After the picture had been taken, you girls and Seokjin had dug a hole in the sand and buried Jungkook up to his neck. You’d splashed in the water, squealing over the slimy rocks that lined the lake’s floor. Later, you’d all eaten thick slices of watermelon, the juice dripping on your bare legs as the summer sun set over the horizon, the four of you sitting in a row on the picnic table bench like a matched set. You’d chased fireflies until Mr. Kim called your names, ready to pack you all into the car to return home, smelling like sunscreen and lakewater.
It was one of your favorite memories, that whole day.
You strip the blankets and sheets from Mr. Kim’s bed and toss them in the hamper. You collect a clean set from the linen closet in the hallway without needing to be told where they are. You spent as much time in this house as your own growing up. In the ensuite, you can hear the shower running, the low murmur of both men’s voices as they chat. You make the bed, fluffing the comforter, and then take the hamper down to the basement, where you dump them into the washer and get it started.
When you head back upstairs, Seokjin is in the living room, slumped sideways on the couch, eyes closed. You’re not sure if he’s awake, if he knows you’re standing behind him. He has that hand pressed to his brow again, and you know a headache when you see it.
You pad quietly up the stairs and into the hallway bathroom, where Mr. Kim used to keep all the over-the-counter stuff - bandaids, pain-killers, lozenges, even tampons back when Minji still lived here.
Heading back downstairs, you grab a glass of water from the kitchen and find Seokjin exactly where you left him, pressing his face pitifully into the arm of the couch.
You nudge him gently, and hold out your offerings - fever reducer and the water.
He grumbles as he takes them, pushing himself to a more upright position so he can drink from the glass without spilling.
When he sets the glass down, he looks over at you somewhat warily. “How have you been?” he asks, and there’s something resigned in his voice. Something defeated. You wonder what battle he’s lost, to make him sound like that. You feel - have always felt - that so much of what goes on in Jin’s mind is kept behind the curtain. For someone so loud, he’s the most private person you know.
“I’ve been fine,” you shrug. “Normal.”
He looks sideways at you for a long moment. “Is that a lie?” he asks finally, voice low.
“No,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. It isn’t, right? You’ve been fine. What happened between you was two entire years ago, the lid closing tightly on a lifetime of maybes. You’d had your moment together and it hadn’t led to anything. What choice did you have, but to accept it and move on? So, there you have it. You’ve been fine.
You make the decision, right there, not to bring it up - what happened two years ago. His lips on yours, his body under your hands, the way your legs had trembled as they’d struggled to hold you up. Better to let it stay dead. If Seokjin had wanted to talk about it, he’s had two years and four months to do so. If he wants to pretend he didn’t fuck his sister’s best friend and then ghost her completely, who are you to mess with the plan?
You need something sweet; you’re far too bitter.
But honestly, you can’t even hate him for it. He hadn’t promised you a thing, so logically there’s no reason to feel like a toy played with and discarded - even if you’re left wishing he had never picked you up to play with at all.
You look him over, taking in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the haze you can still see in his eyes. “You look like shit,” you tell him.
He lets out a single puff of a laugh, his eyes closed. “Now I know you’re lying,” he says, lips quirking into a smile.
“You look like you have the flu,” you say flatly, ignoring his nonsense.
“It’s just a cold,” he says.
You lapse into silence. He keeps his eyes closed, that hand still resting on his head. Finally, you say, “How about you? How’ve you been?”
He shrugs. “Been fine. Working. You know.”
A tiny smile tugs on your lips. “What are we playing these days?”
The smile creeps sideways across his face and he opens his eyes to actually look at you, sending you a conspiratory smirk. “Now you’re asking the right questions,” he says, and starts to tell you about a console game he got last week.
You head to the basement when it’s time and move the sheets you were washing into the dryer. You pause in the doorway when you return upstairs, looking Seokjin over from afar. He looks better than he had when you’d arrived - eyes less glassy, cheeks less pink.
“I think your fever’s down,” you say, as you return to where you’d been sitting before.
“I feel better than I did,” he agrees. He looks at you appraisingly, like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. And, considering the fever, maybe he is. “So Minji said you live pretty close?”
You nod. “Not far. That apartment complex over behind the plaza with the grocery store? You remember, the one that we used to go trick-or-treating at?”
“Wow,” he says, giving an appreciative whistle. “Those are swanky.”
“I’m swanky these days,” you joke, smiling.
Just then, there’s a soft beep from outside - someone locking their car.
“That’s Minji,” Seokjin observes, and you find yourself standing, feet carrying you towards the kitchen.
“Do you need anything to drink?” you call over your shoulder. Jin is watching your sudden departure, clearly bemused. You busy yourself in their fridge, even though you don’t have a real reason to. You just didn’t want Minji to enter the house and find you and Jin having domestic hours on the living room couch.
The front door opens, and Minji calls your name through the house.
“I’m in here!” you call back, and head for the doorway of the kitchen.
Minji hurries to you, setting her bags down on the kitchen floor and flopping dramatically onto the doorjamb.
“I am so sorry,” she says. “Thank you so much for coming over.”
“Your brother’s sick,” you tell her flatly. “He had a pretty high fever when I got here.”
Her eyes widen, and she turns to look over her shoulder at Seokjin, who gives her a cheery thumbs up.
“He says he’s fine,” you inform her, “but he’s got about two more hours before the fever-reducer wears off and then he’s gonna be useless again.”
“Thank you for the warning,” she tells you, while Seokjin squawks from the living room, “I am not, and have never been, useless!”
You give Minji a quick hug goodbye and head for the front door.
You meet Seokjin’s eyes as you pass through the living room. They’re sharp, now that the fever’s receded, locked on you and looking.
“Feel better,” you tell him. “Make sure you hydrate.”
“Hey,” he says, making himself comfortable against the couch cushions, “thanks.” Then, an afterthought - “Seriously. Thank you.”
You give him a tight smile and slip out the front door.
Going home doesn’t stop you from worrying, even though you know Minji is home and capable of taking care of everything. But at work the next day, your eyes keep darting to your phone screen, as if you’re expecting updates on how Jin is feeling, if everything is okay at the house.
No one texts you.
You can’t ask Minji. She’s too fucking smart. If you so much as said, “Hey, is your brother feeling better?” she’d be all over it.
You try your mom instead, texting her, “How’s Mr. Kim doing? Any updates?”
She answers, “Haven’t heard anything!”
You groan, tapping the corner of your phone on your desk in frustration. You try to focus on work for a little bit, but it’s truly a lost cause. With a defeated sigh, you open your phone and thumb through your contacts.
Kim Seokjin.
You’ve had his number in your phone since you got it - your mom was the one who programmed it in for you when you were fourteen, citing Jin as someone you could call if you had an emergency. As if by being two years your senior, he qualified as a helpful adult.
You haven’t used his number in over five years - not since you were still in college, probably.
Actually, you realize, you remember the last time - though there were definitely parts of the night you didn’t remember.
It was your senior year, the first weekend of December, and you and Minji were drinking in some girl’s dorm. You’d never even met this girl before, but there you were, perched on her desk with a bottle of flavored vodka in hand, watching her LEDs change color along the ceiling.
You and Minji were both wasted, even though it was relatively early - not even midnight yet. You leaned against each other, holding the other up, both of you giggling and tapping around on your phones as the conversation flowed around you.
That’s what had happened - you’d noticed it was about to be midnight, the clock about to change from 11:59. And despite being so drunk that Minji was mostly propping you up, so drunk that you had to close one eye to read the letters of this girl’s alarm clock, so drunk that you’d be throwing up in just minutes - a little part of you brain informed you that midnight meant it was officially December 4th.
You’d texted Seokjin happy birthday at exactly midnight, one eye closed to make sure you were typing actual words. He was hundreds of miles away, had graduated and moved out already, and you hadn’t talked since the day the Kims had loaded all of his shit into a rented moving van, about five months ago.
And he’d answered - “thank you! what are you doing up??”
To which you’d replied, “getting baja blasted with your sister” and he’d replied, “i do not want to know, thank you!!”
And then Minji had looked at you drunkenly and narrowed her eyes. “Who are you texting with that smile?”
The floor had swooped below your feet, and you’d run for the bathroom. Minji had forgotten about interrogating you, and you and Seokjin had never texted again.
Now, at your job, you stare at his name on your phone screen, wracked with indecision.
“This is ridiculous,” you finally sigh. Behind you, Dale glances over his shoulder to determine if you’re talking to him or yourself. Ignoring Dale, you tap Seokjin’s name and type, “how are you feeling today?”
You don’t even have time to feel nervous about it - his response is almost instantaneous. He sends you a picture of a gaming screen, where he’s clearly playing a shooter POV. He follows it up with the sunglasses emoji. You laugh out loud, trying to keep your chuckles quiet to avoid calling attention to your cubicle.
“What a nerd,” you mutter affectionately. You type back, “you must be fine then 🙄”.
Seokjin’s played video games his whole life; it’s one thing you do know about him. How many hours of your childhood had been spent with him, Jungkook, and Minji crowded around the tv in their basement, fighting over whose turn it was to play?Usually Seokjin got to play the first controller (since he was older, stronger, and technically the console belonged to him), which left you and Minji and Jungkook to fight it out over the second one.
But you remember other times, too - especially as you got older - when you’d just sit in silence and watch him play. By the time you were a teenager - fourteen to Jin’s sixteen - Minji was over wanting to join him. She’d argue for use of the tv, and when she lost she’d flounce upstairs to her room to sulk about it. Sometimes you’d join her - usually, you’d join her. But sometimes you’d cast a glance at Seokjin, see if you were welcome. He’d always play it the same - look at you sideways, give you a tiny nod, pat the couch behind him like an invitation. (Seokjin played video games from the floor, letting the base of the couch prop him up. He said he focused better that way.)
You’d sit, quiet, watching him work the controls, listening to him whine and groan and complain and shout his way through each map. And you’d feel special, because he let you stay after he’d told Minji to fuck off, because he didn’t mind your presence, because sometimes he’d ask if you wanted him to teach you how, even though you always said no thanks.
You text your mom and ask what she’s making for dinner.
“Why?” she sends back. “Are you asking me to feed you?”
“Maybe,” you send back.
You join your parents for dinner, “just because”. It’s not that uncommon for you to join them for a meal now and then, considering how close you live. You go because you love your parents and you want a home-cooked meal - definitely not because you know it puts you back in proximity to Jin.
Your mom glances up at you from across the table approximately every four-tenths of a second through the entire meal, until finally you slap your palm on the table and snap, “What?”
She purses her lips, amused. “Nothing,” she says, feigning innocence. “We just don’t usually see you on Friday nights.”
“Jagi,” your dad warns, his voice full of affection. Like he knows it’s a lost cause but he thinks he should try to rein her in for your sake.
“I’m just saying!” she says, still all innocence, eyes wide. “I’m not complaining! It’s nice to have you here.”
You grumble a response, aggravated that she seems to be onto you. To escape their scrutiny, you rise and move to bag up the full garbage, tying the top of the bag and heading out to the trash cans at the end of the driveway.
You pause there after hefting the bag up and into the bin, taking a second to breathe. It’s a nice night - the sun has mostly set, the sky deep and dark above you but still clinging to shades of pink down near the horizon. It’s warm, too, for April.
You’re standing there, arms crossed, watching the sky inch closer and closer to darkness, when you hear a door shut across the street. Your eyes follow the sound immediately, and you see a man’s silhouette do the same thing you were doing - make its way down the driveway, a trash bag in hand.
Romantic, you think wryly. A garbage date. You stay rooted to the spot, watching as Jin - just an outline, a shadow - tosses the bag into the bin and brushes off his hands. Then, he stops still, seeming to notice you.
You hold your breath, not sure how this will go, and then he starts to lope over, and you exhale in a whoosh.
“Hi,” he says simply, as he gets close enough that you can finally see his face through the dark.
“Hi,” you say around a tiny smile. “You seem better today.”
He scoffs. “I told you it was just a cold. I just needed to sleep it off.”
“I’m glad,” you tell him softly. Maybe it’s dangerous, maybe it’s stupid - to be soft with him. To act like you didn’t already get your answer from him, years ago. To pretend your affection for him is still as pure and untainted as it was when you were a teenager.
But it feels safer, out here, away from his dad’s house. In there, the memories of that New Year’s Eve are too fresh, too strong - they cling to the air, slide down the walls. The heating unit sighs to life and you hear your own sighs as Seokjin’s fingers danced along your bare skin. The refrigerator grumbles and you hear the grumble of pleasure that originated low in Seokjin’s throat as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. Someone’s footsteps crunch gravel outside, and you hear the crunch of gravel as Seokjin made his way back to the front of the house in the dark, leaving you hidden in shadows, clutching the bricks and gasping for breath.
It’s better out here. In the fresh air, away from that house, the memories are looser, less focused - bike races, raucous laughter, chalk drawings, bouncing beams of light from flashlight tag.
“Thank you for the help yesterday,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s embarrassed. “I know I kind of gave you a hard time.”
“You didn’t,” you say, letting him off the hook. You’ll always let him off the hook, for everything. You always have. “How’s your dad?”
He glances back at the house over his shoulder, like he needs to verify this answer before giving it. “Not so good today,” he admits. “He’s in a lot more pain, starting to get frustrated needing so much help.”
“Hmm,” you deadpan. “A Kim man who gets frustrated at needing help. Interesting.”
Seokjin laughs, full from his belly. “Shut up,” he says, but there’s no ire in it. “Can I help it if I’m a chip off the ol’ block?”
“We’re supposed to learn from our parents’ mistakes,” you tell him, like a reminder. “Not continue them.”
Just then, a car turns around the corner, the headlights casting you in blinding white light before throwing you back into shadow. You both turn to look - since it’s a dead end, traffic doesn’t just pass through here.
You recognize the car - it’s Minji’s. She parks and pops out, calling hello to you, ignoring her brother. He makes a face at you like, what am I, chopped liver?
“I have your mom’s tupperwares, do you want to take them?” she asks, pressing the lock button on her key fob and making the car behind her beep once, loudly.
“Sure,” you say, following her into the house. A glance over your shoulder tells you that Seokjin is following, too, a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets.
Inside, Mr. Kim is sitting sideways on the couch, his leg propped up on a small stack of pillows, a bag of ice over his knee. He perks up when he sees you, lowering his phone away from his face and pushing his spectacles further up his nose.
“How are you, sweetheart?” he asks. “I’d come hug you, but -.” He gestures at his leg.
“I’m doing fine,” you assure him. “I heard you had a rough day today.”
Mr. Kim shoots a dark look at his son, who looks innocently at the ceiling. “Just a little pain today,” Mr. Kim demures.
Seokjin glances at his phone. “We might want to get you upstairs soon,” he tells his father. “You know you’ll be asleep in about fifteen minutes, so unless you want to spend the night on the couch…”
You watch, feeling awkward and unable to help, as Seokjin helps his dad swivel and stand, an arm over Seokjin’s shoulders. They make their way slowly and laboriously up the stairs, and you feel a little anxious watching.
“Are they okay?” you ask Minji as she returns from the kitchen, pushing your mother’s empty tupperware back into your hands.
“They’re fine,” she says easily. “It takes a while but they’ve got it down to a science. Hey, listen, do you want to go grab a drink? It’s Friday, and I’ve had a hell of a week, and what I would really like to do is Uber into town and drink like college-Minji.”
You laugh at this. “I’m not sure I’m prepared for the return of college-Minji.”
“Pleaaaaaaaase?” she begs, blinking her lashes at you. “We haven’t gone out together in ages.”
“Alright, alright,” you laugh. “Let me go tell my parents goodbye and drive home and change. Text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”
“Yessss!” she cries, dancing in place a little. You feel a swell of affection for her; you love Minji with your whole heart. You’ve been through a lot together. You’ve been through a lot separately, but always side by side.
There have been many times through your life where you felt like you were clutching Minji’s hand through the fire.
You still remember clearly the way she’d bounded up to your locker, back when you were thirteen, squealing and excited because the most popular girl in your year had asked her for her number, had invited her over.
You still remember clearly Minji sobbing on your bed weeks later when it came to light that the girl - who wouldn’t be the last to try - was just trying to get an “in” with Minji’s hot older brother.
“You know I would never, right?” you’d promised her. Stupid, at fourteen, not clarifying that you mean never use you to get to him. Stupid, because then you were sixteen and then eighteen and then twenty-one and then twenty-six and you weren’t sure what you had actually promised - had Minji heard it as I would never get involved with him?
“I know,” she’d sobbed, reaching one hand blindly to clutch at yours. “I know you wouldn’t.”
And now you’re twenty-eight and the secrets you’ve kept keep piling up - each day you loved him, another pebble atop the pile. The slightest shake could topple the tower, and you’d be absolutely buried.
You could never let Minji know you loved him. Not when you were fifteen and he was untouchable. Not when you were twenty, and he was the best part of coming home. Not when you were twenty-six, pressed between him and the deck railing.
Not now, after two years of existing outside his orbit again.
The bar she picks is small, but quiet - quiet enough that you can actually carry on a conversation from opposite sides of a wooden booth, which is exactly what you do.
What you hadn’t banked on was that Seokjin would join her, sitting on her side of the booth, complaining loudly that he’s not going to come out with you two ever again, he’s never been such a third wheel in his life.
“You could have stayed home with dad,” Minji says, giving him a swift elbow to the ribs. “Don’t be such a complainer. You jumped in on my plans.”
“Can we please talk about something besides your hot coworker, then?” he begs. “Anything, anything else.”
“We could talk about my hot coworkers,” you offer, even though you have none. But this - teaming up with Minji to push Seokjin’s buttons - is a song and dance you know by heart, something you’ve done since practically infancy.
He narrows his eyes at you. “Believe it or not, that’s not better,” he deadpans.
You laugh, knocking back the rest of your drink and sliding out of the booth to go get another, leaving the Kim siblings to bicker in your absence.
You don’t expect Seokjin to follow; you don’t expect him to press up behind you as you stand at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention.
But he does, his body heavy and warm against yours. The blood rushes to your pussy so fast it almost makes you mad. All he’s doing is standing in close proximity, can your body get it together?
“What are you doing?” you murmur, trying not to meet his eyes in the mirrored wall behind the bar.
“Minji wants shots,” he answers easily. Like his body isn’t pressed against yours, like he isn’t causing your heart to hammer against your ribs.
“You’re too close,” you manage to say, because it’s the best option you can think of. Better than she’ll see us. Better than you still aren’t close enough. Better than don’t do this if you’re just going to leave again.
He does catch your eyes in the mirror, then. He must read something honest on your face, because he shifts sideways, leaving you cold. The bartender comes by, takes both your orders. You take your drink back to the table. Seokjin follows with a tray of bad decisions poured into tiny glasses.
Even though he gave you the reprieve when you asked for it, it’s clear he’s got a mission to ruin you. You’re sure of it, more and more sure as the night wears on. Sure of it when you reach for the same shot glass, your fingers brushing, his lingering. Sure of it when his eyes on your face make you so warm that Minji accuses you of having a drunk flush. Sure of it when his foot hooks around your ankle beneath the table, slides up and down your calf, slow and tantalizing, inches from Minji’s stilettoed feet. Sure of it when this causes your breath to hitch and his fingers tighten around his glass and his gaze goes to the opposite wall, anywhere but towards you.
You’re drunk, but it’s Seokjin that’s sending you spinning.
You’ve made this mistake before, you remind yourself sternly. Nothing good can come of it.
You excuse yourself and head for the bathroom, a marked up door at the end of a narrow, poorly lit hallway. You grip the sides of the sink and breathe deep, closing your eyes. The room sways and you press your forehead to the mirror, trying to ground yourself.
“You cannot fuck him again,” you whisper to yourself, eyes still closed. “It wouldn’t mean anything even if you did.”
The alcohol catches up to you as you whisper these words; the truth of them slam you harder than normal. You blink away tears, taking a few shuddering breaths.
“Time to go home,” you tell yourself firmly, turning off the water and wiping quickly under your eyes in case any makeup ran.
This is what it means to be in Seokjin’s orbit, now: to crash into each other, to fight with yourself - fight with the truth that he doesn’t want you, and then run away scared until he’s too far away to hurt you again. Spin idly along until the next time your circles cross paths. Do it again.
He’s in the hallway when you emerge, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. You have to pass him to get back to the table. He pushes off the wall when he sees you coming, stumbles a little. A tiny, sensible part of your brain whispers that he might be drunker than you are as you sidle into his personal bubble.
“What are you doing, Seokjin?” you ask him for the second time that night.
His eyes comb your face. You don’t know what answer he’s looking for, what question he’s secretly asked you in his mind.
“You tell me,” he retorts, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, but speaking somehow brought him looming closer and you’re drowning in the smell of him, the warmth of him, the desire to feel his body hard against yours again, to feel him split you open again, to have his mouth hot on your skin again -
You close your eyes, sag a little. His hands come to your elbows quickly, holding you up. “You’re confusing me,” you whisper, and then look up at him through your lashes.
There’s something aching on his face, and then he whispers back, “I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so sorry - I never meant -.”
The click-clack of high heels approach and round the corner. You and Seokjin leap apart like you’re burned, your arms tingling where his fingers had been.
It’s not Minji. The stranger murmurs an apology and brushes past you both, towards the bathroom.
Spooked, startled out of the moment, you turn to head back to the bar, back to Minji.
Seokjin grabs your arm, pulls you back. You teeter back a step, then look at him expectantly as you regain your balance.
Seriously, so seriously, he tells you, “I swear, I never wanted to hurt you.” Then he releases your arm with a tiny push, guiding you back out of the dirty hallway and into the light.
You Uber home alone. You brush your teeth, remove your makeup. You change into pajamas, drink a glass of water.
You wake up to your phone buzzing incessantly next to your head.
[10:14 AM] Jin 😎: oh
[10:14 AM] Jin 😎: my god
[10:14 AM] Jin 😎: i think i am dead?
[10:15 AM] Jin 😎: are you dead too? are we ghosts?
[10:15 AM] Jin 😎: can ghosts throw up??? 🤔
You giggle despite your own headache.
[10:15 AM] You: whats wrong old man, you can’t hang anymore??
[10:16 AM] Jin 😎: WOW
[10:16 AM] You: 😇
You check all your other socials, answer a few emails, and then finally drag yourself out of bed and head for a hot shower. As you stand beneath the hot water, you think about your first hangover, when you were sixteen.
You’d woken up next to Minji on her basement floor, a hoodie balled up beneath your head like a pillow. You’d closed your eyes again, hoping the splitting pain in your head and the roiling adrenaline in your stomach were a bad dream.
They were not.
You spent most of the next hour in the basement’s tiny bathroom, curled up on the floor next to your porcelain jail. When you felt like you could stand, you rinsed your mouth and pulled the pillow-hoodie onto your body, taking comfort in the way it swam on you, the hemline brushing your thighs just below your cutoffs.
You’d made your way upstairs, hoping to sneak past Mr. Kim and your own parents and make it unscathed to your own bed. You wanted nothing but to sleep for the next fourteen hours. Or years.
You got busted at the top of the stairs. Luckily, it was Seokjin bustling around the kitchen, not his father.
He had taken one look at you and started laughing, low in his belly. “Too much fun?”
“Shut up,” you’d whined, literally covering your ears against the noise. “Or I will throw up again, I promise.”
Jin had smiled at you, open and easy. “Sit down, kid,” he’d said kindly, jerking his head towards the kitchen table. “I have an age-old remedy.”
And actually? It had worked.
After drying your hair and throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt, you scavenge your kitchen. You have most of what you need, and you toss it all into a tote bag and hunt for your keys. You finally find them on the floor next to the kitchen counter - chances are you’d tossed them at the counter last night and missed - and head out.
Your parents are home when you let yourself in. They both stare at you, baffled, then exchange a sly, knowing look.
“You’re back, I see,” your mom says, something sneaky in her tone.
“Do you have any bean paste?” you answer. “I’m going to go make Minji hangover soup.”
Only one word was a lie.
This makes your mom laugh, and she rummages in her cabinets and helps you complete the list of ingredients you need.
The Kims’ front door is locked, so you make your way around the side of the house and fish the key out of its hiding spot, letting yourself in the side door that leads to the kitchen.
The house is still and quiet, and you try not to clang any pots and pans as you get to work. When you finish, over an hour later, you set up the table - a bowl of hangover soup, and a mug of steaming hot coffee, black.
You text Seokjin, “come to the kitchen”, and set your phone back down, turning to start on the dishes.
You’re informed of his presence by his laugh. You turn, hands red under the hot water and covered in suds, to see him sitting down at the spot you’d set up. He looks up at you, amazed, an uncertain smile playing across his face.
“It’s an age-old remedy,” you tell him seriously.
“You are…” he trails off with a quiet laugh and reaches for the coffee.
You’d love to know the end of that sentence.
When you finish the dishes - save for the pot with the remaining soup, still on the stove for when Minji wakes up - you pour your own mug of coffee and sit across from Jin, watching as he finishes his soup. He closes his eyes and sighs happily, then sets down his spoon reverently.
“Thank you,” he says, like a prayer, but also like a joke. “That was so needed.”
“Consider it payback,” you tell him.
It feels different, sitting across the kitchen table. Different than sitting across that booth at the bar. Less charged. Like it wasn’t something physical burning between you, like you’d thought, but the need for catharsis, for apology. Even if you don’t know what he’s sorry for, even if you still don’t know what exactly happened with him two years ago.
He’s thinking about it too, apparently. He says your name quietly, and you look up to meet his eyes. You can read the apology all over his face. The house is still still and quiet, no one awake but you and Jin. Like no one exists but you and Jin.
You’ve felt that way before.
Sitting beside him in the basement. In the passenger seat of his car, driving through a rainstorm. In his backyard, in the dark, your breath visible in the air as it leaves your mouth in desperate puffs.
“I kind of wanted to talk,” he admits, and your stomach twists. Maybe you should have had some of the soup. “About -?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quickly, already standing, already moving to gather up the tote bag you’d used to carry ingredients. You shrug back into your jacket, ignoring Jin’s wide-eyed look of surprise. “I should get going,” you say, still not looking at him. You go back to the kitchen door you’d entered through, picking up the key so you can return it to its hiding place outside. You pause on the threshold, turning, eyeing the stovetop thoughtfully.
“Tell Minji you made the soup,” you instruct, and then you close the door behind you.
Next ->
Thank you so so much for reading - i hope you like this one as much as I do! Please don't feel shy about letting me know what you think!
Part 2: Retrograde will post next Friday, June 2nd. Hope to see you there!
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. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #5
tonight’s thought is equal parts smut as it is fluff!
domestic couple au where jin loves cock warming. he loves how at the end of a long day, he can have you sat all pretty on his cock while he plays animal crossing on his switch, and you watch a movie. maybe the both of you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing.
maybe he lays on his back, nothing but his boxers on after a shower, skin slightly damp and hair still dripping at the ends. and you’ll walk into the bedroom, and just know. hand trailing up his thigh, teasing over the head of his cock until he’s too hard for comfort and you’re pulling his underwear down; your panties slung on the floor next to his.
and ever so easily, you’d slide down the length of his cock. reverse cowgirl so you could pick out a show for the evening, tv perched perfectly at the end of the bed.
it would be mostly innocent. something so effortlessly gratifying about just having you so close, no words needed. his hand trailing over your ass as he reads over the game’s dialogue. deft fingers trailing under your cotton shirt, sending goosebumps up your spine.
“stop moving” he’d tug at the back of your hair when you start to rock your hips. and he knows it’s an unconscious movement from you, ever so engrossed in your show.
“can’t help it” you’d tell him ever time, settling back down, though he can’t help the moan that claws it’s way up his throat when your pussy squeezes his cock; your thighs clamping around his hips in a lame effort to not rock forward.
and maybe it ends with you actually riding him. his game, and your show long forgotten as you bounce on his cock, fingers toying with your clit.
and maybe he makes you bend forwards after his release; soft cock slipping out your sodden walls, and he’d watch as a dribble of his thick seed leaks out of you and onto his thighs
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