#jin fanfic

[lo1k-diamonds]

Break-line 💜

SX Seoul Series | Jin's Entry

PAIRING: Jin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You’ve been chasing dreams and medals ever since you can remember, with your best friend Seokjin by your side. You thought you had everything you could possibly want — until you find out Jin is keeping a secret from you.

WORD COUNT: 9.9k

GENRE: childhood friends to lovers, confessions, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: tiny sensation of claustrophobia, vulnerability, protected sex (grinding, fingering, oral (m receiving), breast play, pleading?)

A.N. Here it is, Jin's Entry and (belated) gift for his military service discharge 💜 (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

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Your heart pumped inside your chest in a familiar effort as you raced down the street. It was already past dinner time, so you didn’t have many obstacles on your way to the subway. This worked out great for you; running was what you did best, and you were fast.

While you ran, masterfully and gracefully jumping and dodging anything in your way and making anyone who saw you drop their chin, you reached for your phone inside your jacket pocket. Despite your current bewilderment and lack of rational thoughts, there was someone you were trying to reach. You could sprint, that was not the problem. You just didn’t know where to go, exactly.

You cursed when Jin didn’t pick up again, your sneakers squeaking on the pavement when you suddenly halted to go down the stairs into the metro station. That gave you a pause to instead call a friend without losing much of your momentum. The phone called and called, and your annoyance built when you had to stop and search for your card. Where the heck was it?

“Hey!”

You were grumbling to yourself and feeling the pockets of your jeans when you replied in the same tone, “Hey! Do you know where Seokjin is? He’s not picking up his phone.”

“Oh, he won’t pay any mind to his phone tonight! He’s at the SX Seoul club to make a big announcement and celebrate!” 

You finally found your card and passed it, though your teeth were gritting so hard, they were clicking.

“I couldn’t make it, but— Wait, you don’t know? I’m surprised he didn’t invite you.” You had to close your eyes and hold back from snarking when he added as if thinking out loud, “But he only invited the guys so…”

“Alright, thanks, bye!”

You put your phone in your jacket pocket again and jumped from one foot to the other as you waited impatiently. The sound of the subway echoed its approach in the tunnel, but you weren’t known for your patience. Even the metro was too slow for you.

You got on, but everything unnerved you; the placid people sitting around, the monotone message on the speakers, the sluggish close of the doors. You heaved a breath and held on to the hanging straps as the metallic car finally got into motion.

You were a bit frantic and not exactly eager, rather bursting with energy and touching on anxious to get to the bottom of everything. This was why, when the subway stopped again and the same slow open doors, message, close doors cycle happened before you, you groaned and hid in your forearm. It would take fifteen minutes to cross Seoul and reach Itaewon, and it risked having you lose your mind long before you got there.

But you had no choice, so you closed your eyes. Those were fifteen minutes you had to process your thoughts before confronting Jin about what the heck was going on.

You thought back to the conversation you just had with your mom over dinner.

“So they proposed he’d settle with the daughter of a business partner,” your mother continued casually while you had long frozen with your chopsticks midair, speechless. “She studied abroad and is looking to settle back home, and they know each other. They’re a good match and Jin clearly thinks so too because after years without even wanting to touch the topic, he said yes.”

“He said yes?” You remember yourself repeating breathlessly. “To what?”

“To marrying the girl,” your mom rolled her eyes at your ignorance. “What do you think settling down means?”

“Why would they do that?”

Your tone pitched, and your mom sighed, “Because he’s become thirty. He has a name to carry, he should get married.”

“What? That’s ridiculous! Who are they to impose that on him!”

A fire was starting to breach through the cracks and your mother sighed, “They’re doing their duty. He’s never brought anyone home and refuses to talk about it. They’re pushing him, else he might never settle and have a family.” Your eyes widened by the second, a fury making you drop your chopsticks dramatically on the porcelain plate. Your mom sighed, “Most parents aren’t as liberal as me.”

You rolled your eyes, but then snorted, “No way he’s going through with it.”

“And most children are not as rebellious as you,” your mom’s eyebrows twitched before her expression hardened. “Didn’t I just tell you? He said yes.”

You closed your eyes, tensing your abs to stay perfectly still in a tunnel sharp turn. You knew you were difficult and obstinate, but your mom didn’t usually blame you. She recognized the importance of what you were striving to accomplish, even now that an injury had ended your track and field career as an athlete. You couldn't just stay idle and let the medals you had won at the national and worldwide championships and Olympics define your life. You refused to be shelved and default on former glory. Even if you couldn’t compete anymore, you’d keep on running.

You frowned; maybe that was why it felt like you were out of the loop. You were so busy juggling your work as an elite PE instructor and training the National Athletics team, all while trying to work on your recovery, that you probably missed Jin struggling. Meanwhile, the world didn’t stop, and for the first time, you contemplated if it was running faster than you were.

You almost flew out of the subway; your energy was renewed with the conviction that you needed to understand Jin’s decision-making. None of it sounded like him. You would know, you knew him best. He wouldn’t just say yes to an arranged marriage and if he was in love with someone, you’d be the first person he would tell. So why hadn’t he said anything? Why did you have to find out like this? 

You almost fumed when the bouncer refused you entrance because you were wearing sneakers and a tee shirt under your sports jacket.

“There are rules for the dress code,” he said dryly, with a side glance that almost begged the bystanders to take a look at how crazy you were acting.

You grimaced in annoyance, huffing as you reeled in your thoughts. Who cared what you were wearing? You shouldn’t have to conform to superfluous beauty stereotypes to be allowed entrance somewhere. You weren't naked, or dirty, despite how he was looking at you and making you feel.

A deep breath passed your lips as you readied yourself to reason with the guy, but then someone called your name and you turned back.

“Hey!” You matched Kangin’s smile as he approached you near the club’s entrance, “Why aren't you inside yet? Jin is waiting, come on!”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and just smiled and nodded at the bouncer, who shrugged and let you both in. 

You didn’t have time to voice your frustration because in seconds you were entering the main room of the club, and you instantly shrunk. The noise was loud enough to make you dizzy, but it was the mass of bodies randomly swaying in multiple directions, touching you by accident, that twisted your stomach.

You almost recoiled into yourself, but Kangin’s arm was still around you. He screamed near your ear, “I saw them, come on!”

You gave him a faint nod, but he didn’t see it; he got in front of you and made way, and you followed closely behind. Your anxiety was twisting your stomach, but you pushed through; you were there for a reason, you had to see Jin!

Suddenly, Kangin spread his arms and rushed forward, and you staggered. You saw him greeting a few guys in that corner of the room, all mostly having drinks in their own circle, and then you saw Jin. He patted Kangin’s shoulder, welcoming him. You were certain he joked about the drink in his hand, right before downing it, and that was when you saw that his cheeks were red. He was wearing a vintage blue coat that seemingly changed colors depending on the lights, and his tousled hair falling over his forehead looked humid. He was laughing and jumping around with his friends, most of whom you knew well, and you faltered.

Jin didn’t want you there. He never invited you to be there tonight, and he never shared with you what was happening. You had to find out from your mom who heard it from his mom, as best friends since childhood they were, because your own childhood friend kept you out of the loop. Because he didn’t want to tell you, and so naturally he didn’t invite you to that party. Because he wanted to celebrate getting married without you.

The anxiety was smothering your aching heart, and you swallowed dryly, rapidly coming to terms with his decision. You shouldn’t be there.

You looked down, the darkness barely letting you see your feet except when the white lights flashed with the booming music. What were you doing? What did any of it matter? You shouldn’t bother him right now; he said yes and had rounded up his friends to celebrate. Your heart was your own problem, and so was the defeat rattling your bones. You never spoke up, and now you had to be quiet forever.

Your eyes stayed low as you turned around to leave, unable to glance up and see a festive mood while it felt as though your heart was smothered. Everything was crushing you — the noise, the crowd, your complacency, your loss, your anxiety — but you had to find your way.

You stepped forward, but you never moved. Someone grabbed your arm, and you turned to face him. Instantly, your heart dropped; his knowledgeable eyes were on yours. Jin could be a goofball with all his friends, making the jokes and the party lively and fun, taking nothing too serious. But with you, it was never resumed to banter or teasing. With you, he could always read into things, say the right word, be there when it mattered. 

Despite his red cheeks and glistening eyes, you couldn’t find an ounce of playfulness in his deep brown eyes. His expression was unreadable, and it was because you were looking at his lips that you read your name on them.

He was calling you.

“What? Yeah, sorry,” you shouted above the music a bit uneasily. “I— I heard and I—” Your voice died in your throat and your thoughts vanished from your mind. Your features twitched unsurely as you attempted a smile, “I wanted to talk to you, but this is a bad time so… I’ll go now.”

“Wait.”

His eyes had never abandoned yours, and you couldn’t look away either, “We can talk later.”

“We can talk now,” his voice was surprisingly firm and audible above the noise, prompting you to shake your head with a sorrowful smile and try to pull your arm free.

He didn’t let you go, and you were having trouble facing him again. You were tearing up, “No. No, no, no, it’s okay. You’re celebrating.”

“I’m not.”

You could swear he was holding you tighter, and your eyes found their inevitable path to him again. From up close, just the two of you, it was clear that he didn’t look happy. The seconds ticked by as you more confidently noticed this in the redness of his eyes, the slump of the corners of his mouth, and the way he was holding on to you. He was not happy at all, despite the way he was laughing with his friends before.

You didn’t need him to tell you he needed you; you had been friends since the cradle. He finally broke eye contact with you and traced his hands over your arms and forearms to grab your hands.

You squeezed them, “Why—” Your throat closed again and this time you took a deep breath, willing your anxiety to settle. It was as though everything was falling over your head, but that didn’t matter right now. This wasn’t about you. “Why did you accept to do this?”

He shrugged, eyes still on your hands, “My parents nagged me every day for the last year. I just thought it would be best to put them and me out of this misery.”

Your eyes filled with tears at his defeated expression, but you wanted to make sure, “Do you… love her?”

“No,” he shook his head, glistening eyes jumping back to yours. His lips were curved, but it wasn’t warm; something wrong was pulling his pouty lips. Something like sorrow, or sadness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked with a broken voice, ache spreading through your chest as you squeezed his hands again. You weren’t sure what hurt the most: him not telling you his parents nagged him about this, or that he had said yes to their arranged marriage.

Your lips trembled, but you held on, waiting for his answer, and it came when he pulled you close to hug you. You were pressed flush to his wide chest and despite its unparalleled comfort, you started shaking. Those arms were your safe place, and had been all your life. You wished with your whole heart that you could do the same for him.

“How could I bother you with something so silly?”

He spoke near your ear like a secret. His tone hinted at humor, but his nose touching your ear in between threads of hair made you shudder from head to toe.

You gripped his coat, melting into his embrace as your thoughts thrashed inside your head. It was not silly! It would change everything!

Instead, you managed to say, “You should have told me.”

“Well,” you could feel his chuckle in his chest. “I’m telling you now.”

You pushed away to face him tempestuously, annoyance winning the battle for your heart, “I had to find out from my mom!”

“Ahh,” he looked apologetic, and the sorrow was still making him frown. “I… wanted to tell you tomorrow.”

You blinked, suddenly recalling you had a coffee set for tomorrow after work.

That could have subsided your annoyance, but instead it shook your heart, “Why? Why tell me after you already said yes? Why tell me at a coffee shop so impersonally instead of coming to my—” Your voice broke again as you faced him, and you shook, “Oh. I see.” Tears were suddenly roaming your eyes, but you pressed your lips, containing everything as much as possible. “Right.”

He wanted to say goodbye. He—

You couldn’t breathe and pushed his chest away, “I need to—”

“Wait,” he asked, pressing your lower back firmly so you’d stay in his arms. “You’re getting it all wrong!”

“Just let me go, Jin,” you begged breathlessly, unaware your heart could drown so much you wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“No!”

You swallowed dryly and attempted a reassuring smile, “You’ll tell me tomorrow just like you planned, it’s okay.”

“No,” he insisted, then shook his head. “I’m an idiot, I should have told you before, but I was afraid I wouldn’t go through with it then.”

You frowned, letting the tiniest bit of irritation seep through, “Because I’d remind you how crazy this is? And tell you not to do it?”

His puffy lips finally pulled in a genuine smile, “Because if I saw you, I’d be reminded of why I never said yes before, of why I never cared and just endured their pressure every damn day.” You blinked, unsure his reasoning matched yours. “And I would have endured it for who knows how long more, and it’s just—” He closed his eyes for a moment before facing you again, “And it’s just never going to end up anywhere.”

His smile was wistful, and it made you grip his coat again. You were so confused; his words didn’t make much sense to you, but just looking at him, your heart squeezed unbearably. You wanted to help him.

“It has nothing to do with you,” he added, and you noticed him pursing his lips while trying to think of the right words. “It’s not because you’re less important, or because you don’t matter. It’s because— because you matter so much.”

It seemed to you that his eyes and touch carried a deep fondness, one you had shared for most of your lives, so you believed him. You’d never doubt him, but you were still confused. If you mattered so much, then why did he keep that away from you? Every day was a long time to take that kind of pressure without venting or letting it out. Weren’t you there for him? Weren’t you his person in this world?

“I thought we always told each other everything,” you said, with your eyes fixed on his.

“And we do,” he raised his hand to your cheek, looking at you with such tenderness and sorrow.

And it had you shaking your head, “But we’ve been keeping secrets.” You were distracted by your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice him frowning. You faced him again, “You’ve told me about this, and I don’t want to keep secrets from you.”

It was his turn to be confused, brushing your cheek as if the gesture could make things clearer, like wiping the fog out of a mirror. Your eyes were clear, though, and you found a tranquility in the certainty of your decision.

“I’ve known for a while now, but everything was perfect, so I never said anything,” you confessed, not daring to look away from his eyes so his expression wouldn’t sway you. “I thought—” You closed your eyes before you faced him again; the lights and noise along with the crowd were all but forgotten. There was only Jin with his arms around you, your chests touching, and your faces so close, he was almost blurry. “I thought things could stay like this, but of course, they can’t. I never said anything but now… I have to, otherwise I’ll never have the chance to say it.”

His arms stayed around your frame effortlessly, like they were meant to be there, and his endearing eyes made you smile despite what was about to happen. It was because he was that one person to you; like a child’s blanket, better than an imaginary friend, he was your soulmate. It was that simple.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been looking at you as a friend,” your voice was steady. “I haven’t in a long while. You are my dearest friend in the whole wide world, of course, but there’s so much more. Inside my heart—” Your voice crumbled with the weight of your emotions, and your eyes welled up. Jin was staring at you with eyes wide and lips parted. His shock was evident, and you chuckled, “I’m sorry to burden you with this, I promise it’s the last time I’m asking this of you.”

“No,” he instantly raised his hand to cup your cheek again. “No, just— Tell me. Your heart.”

His voice was wavering, and you noticed he was struggling for breath. Was he hanging on every word you said? You couldn’t tell, but now you needed to voice everything that had been risking to fracture your heart.

“It beats like crazy because of you,” you breathed, grabbing his coat again to balance yourself. “When you drink and get touchy and comfortable, I— It’s so unhealthy for you, but those are some of my favorite times. When you put your arm around my shoulders at any time, when you hide me in your arms inside your blankets, when you take me to a comedian’s special because they’re my favorite, or when you bring me the best food because you know I don’t like to cook. I’m sorry,” you sobbed, interrupting your blurt with guilt prickling your heart. “I know you only see me as a friend, as family, but I— I didn’t mean to deceive you, I’m sorry.”

Your heart sunk; you never meant to do that. Your eyes lowered in shame, the tears in your eyes threatening to fall despite the whirlwind around you two.

You didn’t raise your gaze to Jin’s bewilderment, “Deceive me?” He took barely a second to squeeze you to hide in his chest and press his lips to your head. You hugged him back, holding on to him for as long as possible, and tried keeping everything in. “Does that mean…” He sounded pensive, but you suspected he was giving you time to work through your emotions. “You have feelings for me?”

“I’m sorry!”

His voice was close to your ear, but you didn’t raise your head to face him. You couldn’t. Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, you’d keep hiding in his chest, taking in his warmth, perfume, and presence for as long as you could.

But he pulled you away by the arms to face you, “No, but—”

“Hey!”

You heard a smack and opened your eyes, suddenly blinded by the psychedelic lights. The noise, the crowd; the oppression rushed you as Jin leaned into his friend to hear what he was saying.

“Come on, we got shots!”

Jin frowned and was about to answer, but you slipped away. You didn’t hear his reply, you had to leave. You fought the bodies on your way out, sluggishly moving through quick sand and feeling tight and trapped with every step. Only your eyes on the exit sign kept you from losing it until you were finally walking out the club’s entrance.

The night cold filled your lungs, but you didn't stop walking. You’d run in normal conditions, but none of this was normal. You never liked crowds, but you reckoned that wasn’t why you were running away.

It was Jin. Or rather, the hurt.

You didn’t regret telling him. No, that relieved you. Because you never realized you were holding it back until now, and you never had secrets to him. That felt like a worse sin than letting your feelings turn into something else. No, the problem was that you’d lose him. Not because you confessed how you felt; Jin wouldn’t leave you for that. But he would get married to someone else, whether that girl or someone else, and you’d have to just stand there and watch and—

A sob shook you, and you crumbled to your knees in the middle of the subway platform. You were so selfish. You berated yourself as you hid in your fists; Jin wouldn’t leave you for this, but you would. Because you couldn’t stand seeing him close and in love with someone else. You couldn’t even help to shake as you imagined it — the sight of you pushed aside to make way for the woman his heart desired, when you wished you were her all along.

You heard faint echoes in the distance, but you didn’t move. The subway stopped and let out a flood of people who tried very little to dodge the person cowering on the floor, in the middle of the way, but you couldn’t raise your head. You couldn’t face the world right now, you needed to cry. You didn’t even think to get up and get on the subway car to go home; time was evading you entirely while you sobbed.

Your lack of awareness was so that you jumped and faced up when two hands settled on your shoulders. Your heart was startled; you weren’t easily caught, being as fast as you were. But fortunately, the gaze facing yours was the only one you wished you’d see forevermore.

You couldn’t face him, but he was your safe place, so you jumped into his arms, hugging him so tightly you thought neither of you would breathe again. It was only a matter of time before Jin had to let you go or lay you down slowly, but that could wait just a second longer.

He pressed you equally hard, with not even a playful whimper to tease you out of his lips. Instead, his hand supported the back of your head as he seemed to want to pull you onto his lap from the floor.

“Where are you going?” He asked quietly, so soothingly, you felt instantly better.

“Home,” you sniffled.

“Without letting me finish?”

You nodded into his chest, and as he petted your head, you felt as a scared kitten lulled by its favorite human. You suppressed a sob, but his perfume still reached your nose, and you gripped his coat.

“You’ve always been too fast,” he mused quietly, but you still heard him. “You’re rushing,” he said more firmly, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “And I need you to listen.”

You shook your head vehemently. You had always been the strong one of you two, or so it seemed. It was Jin who held you together every time; without him, facing the world seemed impossible.

“No?” He asked gently, and you shook your head again. “Why not?”

“I can’t,” you confessed, hiding further. Fortunately, he knew you well enough; he knew how to deal with you shutting down. “I know you want someone else, I understand—”

“You don’t,” he interrupted your wobbling voice confidently, and your heart jumped in fright. “You’re right — we have been keeping secrets. But mine isn’t that I said yes to my parents' arranged marriage. It’s why I did it. I’ve been in love with you for so long I don’t even remember when it started,” his voice had a tone of amusement that almost curbed your attention. You jumped within the confinement of his arms, your body reacting faster than your mind, as usual. You knew he felt you squirming to face him, but he kept you in place, flush to his chest, “Maybe it was when I had a crush on you when you were the fastest kid in school. Or maybe later, when I had the fattest crush ever when you entered the national Athletics team. You never stopped since, and I just didn’t have the guts to tell you,” he chuckled, hiding further in your hair, so close his warm breath covered you in goosebumps.

But you didn’t have time to think about it, “Why?!” 

You pulled away to confront him, and he was smiling, the same as ever. So heavenly, your eyes filled with tears. Why had you never noticed there could be something more in those endearing eyes?

“It was never the right time, and… you had something else on your mind.”

He seemed nostalgic as he recalled you growing up together and spending your twenties supporting you in your endeavors. 

His smile never wavered, and you grabbed him by his coat over his chest, “You should have told me!”

He chuckled, supporting your wrists gently, “Should I remind you about how you felt about dating?”

You froze, you could hear yourself saying it.

It’s a stupid distraction, there’s plenty of time for it later.

“No, I—” You clutched him as if he could drift away. “You’re different!”

“I know,” he chuckled. “I thought you’d send me packing the second you found out how I felt, so I kept as quiet as a mouse,” he whispered, talking closely to you as if it were a secret. “Taking you out, taking care of you, being there when something went wrong; that was enough for me. I guess when I got drunk, I let it out a little bit, but—”

“I’m happy you did,” you breathed, tearful eyes locked with his. “But then, why did you say yes?”

Your brow was furrowed in confusion, yet he just shrugged, “I’m thirty, and they won't shut up. I could never risk losing you, so I thought, what’s the harm?”

“The harm?” You croaked, your fears touching your voice. “Wouldn’t you have to cut all ties with me? Isn’t that why you were going to tell me tomorrow at a café?”

“What?” His frown was deep, “Heck no.”

“Then why at a café instead of meeting me at my place, as usual?” You insisted, still shaking.

“They have a new blueberry smoothie I wanted to try with you.”

You gripped his coat's lapels still, “But your future wife wouldn’t like my being in the picture.”

“That would never be negotiable.”

His thumbs were soothing on your wrists, drawing small circles while you took on his gaze. Jin rarely got so serious, but you could see as clear as day that he spoke the truth. That wasn’t surprising, you knew he’d never leave your side.

Still, you tilted your head, sadness suddenly pulling the corners of your mouth, “But wouldn’t you be unhappy?”

You had both ignored the screech coming from the tunnel, announcing the subway's arrival, but when the doors threatened to open, you couldn’t anymore. He didn’t answer your question; rather, he pulled you to your feet before the crowd could form again. You lowered your eyes to your intertwined fingers and let him guide you. 

People stepped out to have some nightly fun, nearly emptying the car, and he pulled you to get in. Despite the available seats, you crossed to the opposite closed door and leaned back against it, as you often did. Jin was used to this and stood before you, facing you with both hands holding the bar above his head. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, even as a voice echoed from the speakers, the doors closed, and the train started moving.

“Yes,” he said, eyes equally unable to turn away. “I wouldn’t be happy, but who knows? Everyone else would be happy, you included. Maybe one day I could have been happy.”

Your frown sank deeply; you weren’t sure you agreed with his prediction in what concerned you, but that wasn’t what disturbed you the most. “I don’t like that,” you voiced with worry. “I don’t want you to care about anyone else’s happiness but your own.”

“I care about yours.”

“Not even mine.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Please, Jin. Just do what makes you happy!”

“Then I’ll kiss you.”

His voice was leveled, but his eyes were glistening intensely, and you blushed. You could see the passion in his gaze, in the tension of his shoulders, in the way he breathed. 

“I’ll kiss you, squeeze you in my arms, take you into my blankets, and never let you leave.”

Your heart raced like never before, not even when you ran, and your cheeks burned harder. You knew he could read you like a book — your intentions and wishes were written all over your face. Still, he stayed put, eying you, and you glanced at his lips before looking into his eyes, “Then do.”

You desired for that to happen with every particle of your being, shaking in anticipation. But you recognized his caution, and didn’t censor him. Being careful was only natural; you were the most important person to him, as was he. And yet, this wasn’t a sudden desire brought about by alcohol or any outside factors. This wasn’t a novel attraction that you suddenly wanted to act upon. You looked at his lips again, licking your own absentmindedly. This was the culmination of years of repressed desire, curiosity, affinity, so much mixed into the same pot that it was a wonder it had never exploded before.

He lowered one hand to brush your cheek, and you closed your eyes, leaning into it. You wanted his touch, and all the affection it carried, and more. Your breath shook with the expectation, and you were a second away from opening your eyes and jumping for what you wanted, but then you trembled.

His pouty lips connected to yours, and you almost groaned, instantly voided of thoughts or breath. All you could do was reach your arms around him, drawing him close, right before he brushed your lips together and your instinct took over.

His mouth was so soft on yours that you pressed harder. Of course, Jin would be like a feather graciously grazing your lips, but you were ravenous. You were fast, natural, instinctively drawn to him and everything he could offer. You couldn’t even tell at what point you opened your kiss and dove in deep, only that you were fisting his hair, his hands were on the subway door, caging you in as he tried gluing your bodies as much as the motion of the car allowed it.

And you swayed with him, busy guiding your mouths in a push and pull of recognition while he stayed aware of your surroundings. You kissed, and you kissed, unwilling to pause or break away for a second. Nothing was more important than that; nothing was worth the distraction. You knew kissing him would floor you, the mix of his taste and the almost forbidden-like sensation burning up your spine, but it was more than that. How had you never done that before? How had you even been able to resist? How had you felt those lips on your cheeks, nuzzled his nose, and cupped his cheeks and never succumbed to your deepest desire?

The more you questioned, the more you took, licking his tongue and stealing his breath as if there was so much more he could give you. You knew he could, so when he pulled away and pressed your foreheads together, keeping you in place, you frowned.

He had stayed attentive to the outside world, just like you expected. The speakers announced your stop was next as he brushed your hair delicately behind your ears. You couldn’t look away, seeing the traces of what you had done on him. His disheveled hair, messed up shirt collarbone, kiss-bruised lips so tempting you licked your own. The glint in his eyes held a familiar mischievousness, and you could swear he was about to laugh euphorically. Yet, as the metro lost speed, he pulled away. He stood with feet apart so he could stay stable while the metro halted, and your eyes never broke away. You were still winded, and he was giving you space. He wanted you to decide.

To you, there wasn’t even a question. As soon as the doors opened, you grabbed his hand and pulled him with you. You never stopped dragging him along, up the street, past several corners, and into a residential area. He knew the way to your place, but he still let you do this, and you knew secretly he enjoyed it. He’d tease you about it, certainly, and you’d shrug and tell him you knew what you wanted.

He got dragged all the way to your apartment, and you slammed the front door closed behind him. You eyed each other in silence. You were alone, and that was enough to make the tension spark all around you. It was as though you had never been alone together before, not with all that raw desire burning in each one of you.

You didn’t turn on the lights; the city lights outside the windows were enough to illuminate his teasing expression. He was playful as always, but he was still, tense, not babbling jokes as he pretended your place was the same as his, as usual.

You took your sneakers and jacket off slowly, your eyes never leaving him, and he did the same. Then you made your way to your bedroom, and he followed you, staying parallel to you always. You stopped near the bed, and he didn’t even glance around, he was simply looking at you. That was why he didn’t notice the pile of blankets on your bed, the same you suddenly grabbed and threw over him. The surprise would be enough to catch him off guard, but you still hugged him and pushed him on the bed, cocooning him expertly while making sure his head was out so he could breathe.

A fit of laughter bubbled through him, so pure and relaxed, it melted you from head to toe. You loved seeing him laugh cheerfully like that, and made sure the cocoon was nice and proper while he let it all out.

“I said— I said I would take you into my blankets,” he said, still laughing, now with flushed cheeks and tearful eyes.

“Mine were closer,” you grinned cheekily, and he nodded.

“Get in here.”

His wonderful smile was big and genuine, and you did as he asked, the tension momentarily forgotten while you tried to find a way to get inside the blankets you had messily wrapped around him. He helped you sort them out between laughs and teases, and circled his arms around you, covering you both again, as if that had been the plan all along.

You blamed your ease on knowing and trusting Jin absolutely. Even if your nerves tried to catch, his scent alone was enough to soothe you, melting the anxiety before it could even form. There was no space for worries or fear, only the certainty that he was your person, and you were right where you belonged.

He brushed your hair gently to the side, eying you in silence, and you recognized his patience while he wandered in his thoughts without you. But no matter how much you liked being in his arms, you wanted more. You leaned in and nuzzled him, testing the waters, and his eyes hooded, but he didn’t move. He was waiting, maybe carrying out a test of his own, and you should pass it with flying colors.

You pressed your lips to his and felt them curve in a smile before brushing yours, inviting you to keep going. You weren’t as hungry this time around, looking to take your time and not rush things, but you knew then and there you’d be devastated. Already, there would be no one else who could compare to him. Not just his kiss or taste, but the way he knew, understood, and cherished you. If you did this, opened yourself to know him without reservations, your very soul would forever be branded in fire and love by an unparalleled bond. This certainty would not make you stop, however, quite on the contrary.

You were done waiting and looking the other way, pretending it wasn’t there. You let your hands trail down his chest without ever breaking away. Your focus was on his warmth, firmness, and presence as he grazed your lips delicately, but it wavered. It was still completely rendered to him, but you wanted to take everything in, and it had to satiate every little millimeter of your curiosity.

He never stopped kissing you with gentle, steady hands on your waist. Not to keep you away, but as an open invitation to do whatever you pleased. You knew as much without words, and you had no issues taking the lead. 

Your hand lowered until the last button of his shirt, going under it to touch his skin. He kept kissing you ever so slowly, not flinching or touching your skin in his stead. So you continued, daring to trace the expanse of his lower stomach, forcing him to stop adoring you with his lips to catch his breath. He eyed you, a twitch of his eyebrows revealing a hint of torment, and your tongue peeked between your teeth. Making him feel that way only excited you more, and this time you captured his lips for a breathtaking kiss.

You wanted him and all the little things he was hiding. You had seen him in shorts during vacations, of course, but you had never touched him like this, and you couldn’t stop. Your hand trailed as far as his shirt let you, and you inhaled and swallowed every reaction he gave you, from sighs to a low, quiet growl deep in his throat.

You pulled the shirt to get it off him, and he let you, staying still as you traced and learned every inch of his skin anew. You saw as it took the markings of your nails and kissed near his collarbone, sighing with how intoxicating his scent was. It didn’t take long before you were starving for his kiss, looking to consume him again. Your desire to feel him was blooming effortlessly, but you didn’t want to jump the gun.

Instead, you took one of his hands from your waist and placed it under your shirt, over your stomach. He stopped kissing you to eye you, and you waited. It was his turn now, you wanted it just as much. How would you react to his touch? To his learning of your curves? Would you be able to read the desire in his eyes? Would the way he looked at you change?

He was even more affectionate than you had been. Every inch of skin revealed was adored by his lips or the tip of his nose, higher and higher until your bra stopped him. Or would have, but that was Jin. He simply pressed his face to your chest, staying there for a moment, breathing you in and keeping you close. You chuckled and petted his hair; he had always adored to put his head on your lap, you supposed that was the upgrade.

“I promise it’s even better without the clothes.”

He hummed, seemingly absentmindedly, before raising his head to face you, and your smile. There was something on his mind, and you were glad he voiced it, “I want to ask you something.”

You nodded with tranquility, brushing his shoulders caringly.

“If you knew for a while, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I liked how things were,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, but don't you like this?” He brushed his fingers right under the band of your sports bra, and you felt tingles down to your stomach. “I mean, I know I'm not muscular and strong like that football player you sort of dated a few years back, but—”

“Stop,” you smacked his shoulder playfully, then twisted a lock of his dark hair around your finger, “I like this, and I think I’ll like it even more than before. But why… it was a risk, and… I'm past my prime.”

“What?”

You had mumbled that last part and almost took it back, but you knew he wouldn’t let you. So you repeated it and saw irritation draw lines on his dreamy features.

“What on earth are you saying?”

You huffed and pouted, “You know how I feel about that…”

“Yeah, and you know you are not just your medals.”

“It’s not about the medals…”

“Then what?” He insisted, waiting patiently for you to look back at him.

“My injury,” you said simply, trying a detached shrug that was anything but. “I’m working on recovering, but I know I’ll never be what I once was.”

“I understand you feel that way,” he voiced after a moment of silence, carefully considering his words. “But what does that have to do with me?”

You smiled, “I didn’t want to lose you. I can lose everything, just not you,” you revealed with watering eyes.

He cupped your cheek, “You won’t. Ever. No matter what.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed with a tight chest, closing your eyes, and he leaned to touch your forehead with his.

“What for?”

“For not telling you as soon as I knew, though to be fair, I— I might have—” You pressed your lips for a moment before blurting it out, “I might have been scared, so I pretended it wasn’t there. When my mom told me about the marriage, I just— I felt like I couldn’t live. I’d lose you forever without ever telling you I—”

You sucked in a breath, and he waited patiently, and you almost smacked his shoulder. Because he knew you’d get way more flustered like this.

“I— I want to spend my life with you.” He hummed as though you both knew that would happen anyway, and you huffed, “I want to live with you. Wake up in your bed, and not just because we fell asleep drunk. Talk while we shower,” you rolled your eyes, annoyed that you had to stop talking in such circumstances. “Hold you and show everyone you’re mine. I don’t want to have to worry about anyone else stealing your heart.”

“Now, there are exceptions—”

“Of course, if we have a daughter it’s different, but—”

“What?”

His eyes widened in befuddlement, and your cheeks burned crimson. It took you a split second to hide in the pillows, looking to blend into your surroundings. You were faster than him, but he knew you well — he wrapped his arms around your waist, making sure you couldn’t go far.

“No, wait—”

“Let me go! I’ll die from embarrassment!”

He was trying not to laugh, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“I will!”

“You voice my deepest wishes and then die? I won't let you!”

He grabbed all the pillows and threw them away without ever loosening up his hold around you, not even when you tried turning, sliding, and squirming away. Quite on the contrary; he pushed you back flush to his chest, and you whimpered. Not just because he was firm in his want, or his wide chest enveloping you, but because something was teasingly poking your ass. You couldn’t help rubbing yourself against him as he lowered his lips to speak near your ear.

“Only a cute little version of you could ever steal my heart, and I’ll make it happen.”

You closed your eyes, clenching around nothing and pressing yourself even harder back against him.

“Live, sleep, and shower with me,” he whispered, as though he knew it was a sweet torture for you. “I’m yours, just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“I want you to touch me,” your voice wavered as you begged, nails sinking into his skin as you both kept his arms around you and wished he would touch you from head to toe.

“Are you sure?”

The tip of his nose touched your earlobe through your hair, and you shuddered, “Please.”

His arm loosened so his hand could land on your hip and squeeze it, and you whimpered. He was behind you, your big spoon, making you feel safe and treasured while your desire burst and made you rub your ass on his hard-on. Your hunger was like flames licking from your core all the way to your chest, driving you crazily desperate for him, and fortunately, he seemed to know it.

He trailed up under your shirt, palming your curves with his big hand until he reached your chest. He was unrestrained; he squeezed your breast tentatively, massaging with increasing strength until you squirmed. His warm breath fanned your ear and neck while you could feel the tease of what was to come too far from where you wanted it. Firmly, he felt you multiple times, earning every bit of the encouraging moans slipping past your lips.

You trusted his gentleness, loved his strength, and knew you affected him when he started kissing down your neck. He couldn’t seem to let you go, and you ground against him, finally letting your chin fall when he rutted into you. He was good at hiding it, but he was going insane just like you. That was the moment you thought you had the whole night to take it slow, just not now. 

You knew he would agree because he was nibbling your skin, intertwining your legs together, and in an instant, bypassing the band of your sports bra to grab you directly. He squeezed, and you moaned, whipping your head back as he molded himself to feel you as much as possible. 

You were delirious but it was ecstasy. You knew then and there that he could take you there, just like this. One hint of stimulation where it counted, and you’d fall apart like a house of cards. You squirmed, increasing the friction, and he hummed approvingly. It set your conviction further: he’d guide you, and you would snap, fast as an arrow and just as accurate.

His hand left your chest to move lower, pressing your flesh firmly, but then he stopped. 

You whined, wiggling, “Don’t stop!”

He hummed into the back of your neck, and you pulled your own pants and underwear down, thrashing your legs around in annoyance to get them off. He kept kissing your skin soothingly, and you placed your hand over his, still on your lower stomach.

“Please.”

A nibble stole a sigh from you, along with a shudder, and his hand did as you asked. You immediately held your breath and let your whole body fall flush to his when his digit finally reached you. 

Your chin dropped with the rivulets of pleasure navigating your skin from head to toe, and you braced yourself. You grabbed his pants by his hip behind you and rolled your hips ever so slightly, unable to stop yourself. It was too tempting; his touch was merely feather-like, but you knew heaven was right there, within reach.

He worked with you, rubbing his circles in a steady way to match the sway of your hips. When you gripped his pants to pull him closer, he obliged, or perhaps succumbed to the sensations of grinding himself against the curve of your ass. Everything became seamless; every motion, breath, moan, and kiss building you intensely to your finish line like in one of your sprints. You could see it, so clearly. It would shatter you, and you wanted it.

The more he rutted into you, the more you craved him inside you, and it did something to you. You were throbbing around nothing, and yet somehow the hint of what he wanted to do to you and how that would feel like were turning you on like crazy. He sank his teeth a bit more on your neck, and you wailed. He rubbed his fingers on your clit, and you moaned. Then he snapped his hips to your ass, and you gushed down your thighs, barely containing your derailment. Every touch, every roll of your hips a bit further, until you couldn’t stop.

You threw your head back and let every bit of emotion surface as you cried your ecstasy. Your spasms shook you, enveloping you so absolutely, you saw no end. Only his body anchored you, though you were powerless to the pleasure rippling and expanding through you. When it finally calmed, you could still feel its echoes slowly dissipating, your heart racing in such a way you could have just finished a sprint. Only it would have never left you wanting like this.

You turned around and caught his lips, having no qualms on grabbing his hair and keeping him close. Logic had taken a dive, and it was a different kind of you on the drive seat. The you who didn’t see any reason to hold back, who wanted to feel those sensations to the fullest, and to live with him the best type of rapture.

He matched your fire, hungry lips eating your moans, while his hands felt your waist with urgency. You spread your leg to lace around him, and although pressing yourself to him had you both breathing heavily, his hand was still stubbornly on your waistline.

“Don’t hold back,” you asked in a quick pause before grabbing his arm to incentivize him to move.

You kissed him again, and his hand finally wandered to the end of your back before grabbing your ass in a firm squeeze. It was the last drop you needed to push him by the shoulder to straddle him. Instantly, you looked down and sulked — why were you both not skin on skin?

You threw your shirt over your head hastily, your bra following suit, and then you faced him. His eyes absorbed your body’s details, from the way your hair fell over your naked shoulder to your lips dripping slick on the bulge of his pants. You rolled your hips to feel him, pleased with how hard he felt, but not with the clothes between you.

You raised to your knees, looking down, “Take them off.”

Your urges and desire were driving your actions, so you didn’t think how that could have come across, but he didn’t seem to mind. He struggled with his pants and dragged everything as far as he could with you over him. Lucky for him, that was the moment you had to get off him to reach the bedside drawer. That momentary pause had allowed you to remember something important: condoms.

He was pushing his clothes into the bottom of your cocoon when you sat back on his lap with the condom wrap in your hand. You waved it, and he nodded before you looked down. Your eyebrows knitted; how could this be?

You put the condom on his chest and sat back further on his legs so you could lean and reach the tip of his cock with your tongue. That single drop was enough for you to open your mouth and take him, humming with his taste. Why was he pretty everywhere? Even his cock instantly made you drool, wanting to slurp, and swallow him whole.

“Wait—”

He touched your hand over his stomach, and you looked up, lips still spread around his cock. You needed more convincing to let it go.

“I— I want to—”

You blinked and stilled your bobbing, though not your tongue.

“I— What I—”

He swallowed dryly, and a small part of you found the situation amusing. He looked dashing: flushed cheeks, a few strands of dark hair glued with the sweat on his forehead, glistening eyes, wide chest with too little marks yet, and a firm torso leading to a juicy cock you were happily devouring.

You could see in his eyes that he was having trouble speaking. He needed a pause so he could think, and you had only one choice.

You pushed his shaft deeper and started swallowing around it, drooling all over it with hunger.

He grabbed your hand, “Wait, please!”

His tone was desperate, and you instantly released him from your mouth.

He fell limp on the mattress and rubbed his face harshly, and you pouted, “You don’t like it?”

“I do!” He raised his hands and placed them on your hips, “Damn, it’s— You feel so good.”

He sounded tortured now and you kind of liked it, so you leaned down to peck his stomach and he reached for your head.

“No, I want to be inside you. I—” He hesitated, and you supported his hands on your cheeks. You didn’t want him to hold back, you were in too deep now. “I want to make love to you.”

Your eyes widened as you blinked, and you nodded. He grabbed the condom to put it on while you observed in a momentary stunned silence. It wasn’t like you didn’t want the same, or that your need for him was devoid of love, but— To hear him say it like that, it— It made your heart skip.

You took his hands to help you position yourself over him and paused. Looking at him, you wanted to be sure you were taking that leap together, and he smiled with a small nod. His hands on your hips assured you and when you sank, so did the pleasure morphing his face.

You whimpered, but you were focused on him first. He looked like the sexiest, hottest man you had ever seen just taking in the sensation of being sheathed inside you, and you loved it. You loved how you could sweep him off his feet by just uniting your bodies, how his eyebrows knitted and how he couldn’t seem to breathe no matter how long he had to get accustomed.

You lay over his chest to kiss him and his lips immediately answered, though you were sure his mind was out the window. It was just you and him, body on body, feeling on feeling, finding a way to meet halfway.

You rolled your hips, finding the best angle and speed, and made work of reading his reactions. When he frowned, sank his fingers into your hips, or moved his legs to help you feel him deeper. You loved every little detail, grinding to have the best poke of his cock inside you, when you realized he was staying way too still.

You grabbed his hands and put them on your chest, and he instantly played with your tits. It tightened you immediately, the view alone something that could drive you insane, let alone the fact that his delicious cock was tucked to the hilt inside you.

You were getting lost in the superposition of pleasures when he suddenly jolted, making you moan in surprise with how deeper he had managed to get. It made you bite your lip, teasing him to do it again, but his smile was almost sheepish as he got back to just enjoying and massaging your chest.

You frowned, “Don’t hold back.” He eyed you quizzically, and you insisted, “I won’t break. Do not hold back.” You leaned in again to nuzzle him, “Make love to me—”

Your soothing voice was interrupted abruptly as he laced your legs together and rolled on top of you. Instantly, the shift in angle allowed him to reach inside you differently, and you moaned. You grabbed him close, wrapping your legs around his waist as he tentatively thrust once, twice. His eyes never turned from yours, taking in the way you were adrift. Your mouth had fallen open, and your breaths had a voice of their own with every jerk of his hips.

He dragged his fingers over your chest, pinching a nipple before leaning in completely, gluing your bodies. The friction was maddening, and you could swear he was jutting his hips like that on purpose. You held on the best you could, every slap a test to your senses, and soon you were only moaning, trying not to fall apart, but powerless to stop it.

You wanted to call his name, but you couldn’t think how to speak anymore. Rather, his eyes were on yours, and you could see his torment and affection mirroring yours. You wanted him so much, to be with him forever. Every swing of his hips tensed your body unbelievably, and his beautiful deep eyes, it was too much. You wanted him too, needed him too, loved him too. You couldn’t say it, but you could feel it, and he knew it too.

He tried kissing you, but you were too far gone. Your pleasure sought to floor you, but his constant thrusts through it elevated your senses uniquely. You were unraveling but also waiting, and as he gripped you, fucking you harder, you could see it in his eyes — he was almost there.

You helped him, moving to deepen his reach inside you, and felt the moment he popped. It was a throbbing deep within you that mixed and added on top of your ongoing orgasm, and you clenched harder. You moaned deeply, confused but unable to stop the way your body responded to his pleasure deep inside you. Instead, you let the wave take you, moaning as he groaned, both telling each other through sounds, gazes, and feelings how deeply you felt one another.

He settled inside you, recovering his breath while you held him close. You whimpered when he pulled away, tapping his shoulders so he’d hold you again, but he just looked at you. You raised a hand to his cheek, a question shimmering in your eyes along with so much else. Finally, he dove in for your lips, sealing the words on the tip of his tongue through a loving kiss.

[kittenan]

Igniting Spark

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

AU: Street Racer!Jin x Good Girl!Reader

Words: 8-9k words

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Explicit smut, rough dom!Jin, brat tamer kink, choking, degradation kink, possessive!Jin, semi-public sex, dirty talk, voice kink, unprotected sex (use protection, folks), emotional undercurrents, mentions of violence (minor fight-related injuries), light pain kink (tattooing), detailed angst from past betrayal.

Tropes: Punk x Good Girl, enemies-to-lovers, forbidden attraction, slow-burn sexual tension, possessive romance.

A/N: This one’s for my Tumblr babes craving for Bad boy Jin Smut.😈 Reblogs & comments are my lifeblood—let me know what you think!

You’ve known Kim Seokjin since you were fifteen, a freshman at Lincoln High, navigating the crowded halls with your head down and your heart quiet. He was a junior then, the golden boy who seemed to glide through life without a single misstep. Student council president, track star, the kind of guy who could charm teachers with a smile and make girls giggle just by walking past. His hair was always neatly tousled, his letterman jacket slung over one shoulder, and his laugh—God, his laugh—was a bright, infectious thing that echoed in the cafeteria, drawing every eye. You weren’t immune. No one was.

You fell for him quietly, the way you did most things. It started with stolen glances in the library, where you’d pretend to study while watching him joke with his friends, his grin lazy and confident. By junior year, you were tutoring him in calculus, a gig your math teacher pushed you into because Jin was skating by with a C-minus and needed to keep his GPA up for college apps. Those late-night sessions in the school’s empty study room were torture and bliss. He’d show up ten minutes late, cologne sharp and dizzying, leaning over your notebook so close his arm brushed yours. His voice was low, teasing, as he asked you to explain derivatives again, and you’d stammer through it, hyper-aware of every shift in his posture, every time his knee bumped yours under the table.

“You’re too smart for me,” he’d say, flashing that grin, and you’d blush, thinking maybe, just maybe, he saw you. He’d linger after, walking you to your mom’s beat-up sedan in the parking lot, his hands in his pockets, asking about your day like he cared. You let yourself believe it, let yourself hope, because his eyes were soft when they met yours, and his laugh felt like a secret shared just between you.

Prom night was supposed to be the culmination. He asked you in the hallway, casual but deliberate, catching you off guard as you fumbled with your locker. “Be my date,” he’d said, leaning against the metal, all easy confidence. “It’ll be fun.” You’d spent weeks saving up for a thrift-store dress—emerald green, simple but elegant, the only thing you’d ever felt pretty in. You stood outside the gym that night, heart pounding, checking your phone every five minutes as the music thumped inside. He never showed.

You waited until the parking lot was nearly empty, your heels pinching, your mascara smudged from tears you didn’t want to admit to. Later, you heard the truth from a friend of a friend: it was a bet. Jin’s buddies had dared him to ask out the “nerdy tutor,” a cruel laugh at your expense. He’d ditched you for the afterparty, where he hooked up with the cheer captain, a blonde bombshell who’d bragged about it on Monday. You saw him in the hall, laughing with his friends, his head thrown back in laughter like nothing had happened. Like you were nothing.

That betrayal carved itself into your bones. You’d trusted him, let him see the parts of you no one else did—the shy girl who laughed at his dumb jokes, who stayed up late rewriting notes so he’d understand. He’d thrown it away for a laugh, a fling, a moment of glory with his shallow friends. You swore you’d never let him close again, never let that lazy grin or those soft eyes fool you. After graduation, you thought you’d escaped him, but college brought you back to your hometown for masters, working part-time at your uncle’s garage to cover textbooks. Jin, meanwhile, had traded his letterman for leather and ink, a street racer with a rap sheet and a reputation. Your uncle, who’d known him since he was a kid sneaking into the shop to tinker with bikes, let him come by after hours to fix his busted-up motorcycles, saying “the kid’s got no one else.” You hated it. Hated his cocky smirks, the way he chewed gum like he was mocking you, the way he lingered when you were closing up, daring you to snap. Most of all, you hated the heat that flared every time his eyes raked over you, like he knew exactly how you’d sound falling apart for him.

Tonight, the rain’s hammering the garage roof, a relentless drumbeat matching your pulse. You’re wiping down the counter, motor oil and degreaser thick in the air, when the bell jangles.

Jin strolls in, soaked, his sleeveless Metallica tee clinging to every muscle. Ripped black jeans hang low, chains clinking, and his combat boots track mud. A bruise blooms along his jaw, lip split from a fight. He slings his leather jacket over one shoulder, raking a hand through wet hair, silver rings glinting.

“Evening, princess,” he drawls, voice low, popping gum in his mouth. He chews slow, smirking. “Miss me?”

You roll your eyes, tossing the rag down. “Shop’s closed, Seokjin. And you look like you got run over.”

He chuckles, sauntering closer, boots thudding. “Just a fist. Guy thought he could swing after a race.” He leans on the counter, tattooed forearms flexing—skulls, roses, a dagger curling under his shirt. “Gonna play nurse, or keep pretending you hate me?”

“I do hate you,” you snap, grabbing the first-aid kit. “Sit. Don’t bleed on anything expensive.”

He brushes past you, arm grazing yours, the cold metal of his rings sending a shiver down your spine. He smells like rain, leather, and something darker, making your thighs clench before you can stop it. He sits on the stool by the workbench, legs spread, gaze burning as you tear open an alcohol wipe.

You step between his knees, focusing on the cut above his brow, but his proximity’s suffocating. His hands rest on his thighs, fingers twitching like he’s fighting not to touch you. You dab at the blood, and he hisses, but his eyes stay locked on yours, dark and heavy.

“Hold still,” you mutter, voice shaky.

“Hard when you’re this close,” he murmurs, voice low, sinful. “Still mad about prom, huh?”

Your hand freezes. He’s never brought it up before. “You humiliated me,” you say, voice sharp, trembling with years-old hurt. “Asked me out for a bet. Left me standing there while you fucked the cheer captain. You think I’d forget that?”

His smirk fades, eyes flickering with something—guilt, regret. “I was just eighteen,” he says quietly. “Stupid. Trying to fit in with assholes who didn’t deserve my time. I didn’t know how much I’d hurt you. And for God sake, I didn't fuck anyone afterparty. Who the hell spread those rumours, I don't know.”

You scoff, taping the bandage. “Save it.”

He catches your wrist, grip firm, thumb brushing your pulse. “You think I don’t see you watching me? You’re fighting it, but you want this.”

Your heart stutters, but you yank your hand back. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” He stands, towering over you, backing you against the wall. The concrete’s cold, his body heat radiating through his damp shirt. His hands cage you in, and you feel the hard lines of him, inches away. “You hate me, but you’re soaked right now, aren’t you?”

“Seokjin,” you warn, breathless.

He leans in, lips near your ear, breath hot. “Get on your knees, princess. Show me how much you hate me.”

Your knees buckle, and you sink to the floor, grease-stained linoleum cold, hands trembling as you reach for his belt. You hated how your body obeyed his every command, even though you were elder than him. His eyes darken, a groan rumbling as you fumble with the buckle, metal clinking. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips, parting them.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the praise sends heat to your core.

You free him from his jeans, his cock heavy and thick, already hard. Your fingers stroke slowly, and he hisses, head tipping back. You lean forward, lips brushing the tip, tasting salt and rain. His hand slides into your hair, gripping just enough to sting, guiding you as you take him deeper, tongue swirling.

“Fuck,” he groans, hips rocking slightly. “That’s it. Just like that.”

You hollow your cheeks, taking him deep, hands braced on his thighs. His rings are cold against your scalp, grip tightening as you work him, savoring every curse. He’s unraveling, and the power of it makes you dizzy, makes you wetter than you’ll admit.

“Eyes on me,” he orders, tugging your hair. His gaze is molten, possessive, and you moan around him, the vibration drawing a sharp curse. “Don’t look away. I want you to watch yourself until you come undone for me.”

Your thighs press together, desperate for friction, but you obey, holding his gaze as you bob your head, lips stretched. His thumb traces your cheek, tender despite the filth spilling from his mouth, and the contrast makes your head spin.

“Gonna make you mine,” he mutters, voice raw. “No one else touches you like this. Say it.”

You pull back just enough to gasp, “Only you.”

His jaw clenches, and he hauls you up, spinning you and bending you over the workbench. Tools clatter, but you’re too far gone, focused on his hands yanking your jeans down to your thighs. His fingers slide between your legs, finding you soaked, and he groans, low and filthy.

“Look at you,” he growls, teasing with slow strokes, “so fucking wet for someone you hate. You act all innocent, but your thighs tell the truth.”

You whimper, pushing back against his hand, but he pins you, his other hand wrapping around your throat. His rings are cold, the pressure just enough to make your pulse race, to make you lightheaded.

“Say please,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “Slower.”

“Please,” you whisper, dragging it out, voice trembling.

He chuckles, dark and possessive, and then he’s inside you, filling you in one rough thrust that makes you cry out. The workbench creaks, fingers scrabbling for purchase as he sets a brutal pace, each thrust driving you higher, deeper, until you’re nothing but sensation.

“Quiet,” he hisses, clamping a hand over your mouth as you moan. “Don’t want the street hearing you.”

You try to obey, but he makes it impossible, fingers slipping down to circle your clit, his cock hitting just the right spot. The pressure builds, white-hot, until you’re trembling, nails digging into the wood.

“Come for me,” he growls, tightening his grip on your throat. “Now.”

You shatter, vision sparking white, body clenching around him as you come, hard and fast. He follows, thrusts erratic, a low groan tearing from his throat as he spills inside you, forehead pressed against your shoulder.

He pulls away, and you straighten, yanking your jeans up, avoiding his eyes. The high school hurt, the fresh betrayal of your own body, burns too hot. “This changes nothing. Think of it as my revenge.” you mutter, voice cold, grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

He watches you go, smirk faint but knowing, like he’s already plotting his next move.

For weeks, you play a dangerous game with him. Some nights, you ignore him completely, brushing past his lingering presence in the garage, pretending his low voice and heated stares don’t set your skin on fire. You lock up early, leave before he can corner you, and delete his texts—short, taunting things like “You can’t run forever, princess” or “I know you’re thinking about me.” Other nights, you lean into the tension, testing how far you can push him, how much you can make him squirm before pulling away.

One evening, the garage is quiet, the rain a soft patter outside. Jin’s there, as usual, tinkering with his bike, his sleeves rolled up, tattoos stark against his skin. You’re restocking supplies, deliberately wearing a tight tank top that rides up when you stretch, knowing his eyes are on you. He’s watching, chewing that damn gum, his jaw flexing as you bend over to grab a wrench, letting your shorts ride up just enough to tease.

“Need help with that?” he calls, voice low, edged with hunger.

You glance over your shoulder, smirking. “Not from you.”

He chuckles, standing, wiping his hands on a rag as he stalks closer. “Keep playing, princess. You’re gonna regret it.”

You don’t back down, stepping into his space, close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. “Maybe you’re the one who’ll regret it,” you murmur, letting your fingers brush his chest, trailing down to the waistband of his jeans. His eyes darken, a low growl in his throat as you palm him through the fabric, feeling him harden under your touch.

“Careful,” he warns, voice rough, hands hovering at your hips but not quite touching, like he’s waiting for you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate, unzipping his jeans, slipping your hand inside to stroke him slowly, deliberately, watching his jaw clench, his breath hitch. You keep your eyes locked on his, reveling in the way he’s coming undone, his hips bucking slightly into your hand. You bring him to the edge, his groans growing desperate, his grip on the counter behind you tightening until his knuckles are white.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he rasps, voice raw, his head tipping back as he’s right there, teetering on the brink.

And then you do. You pull your hand away, stepping back with a wicked smirk, leaving him hard and aching, his chest heaving. “Good luck with that,” you say, voice sweet but dripping with venom, grabbing your jacket and sauntering out the door.

He curses under his breath, the sound following you into the night, and you feel a thrill of victory, knowing you’ve left him restless, wanting, just as he’s done to you for years.

Another night, you push him even further. It’s late, the garage nearly empty, just you and Jin, the air thick with unspoken tension. He’s leaning against a workbench, shirt off, sweat and grease smudging his tattoos, his eyes tracking your every move as you clean tools nearby. You’re in a cropped hoodie and low-rise jeans, moving deliberately, letting him see the sliver of skin above your waistband, the way your hips sway as you walk.

You catch his gaze, holding it as you saunter over, stopping just close enough for your perfume to mix with the scent of motor oil. “You’re staring,” you say, voice low, teasing.

“You’re making it hard not to,” he shoots back, voice rough, stepping closer until he’s crowding you against the workbench.

You don’t flinch, leaning back slightly, letting your chest brush his as you look up through your lashes. “Poor Jin,” you murmur, fingers trailing down his bare chest, over the ink, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. “All worked up and nowhere to go.”

His hand grips your wrist, but you twist free, dropping to your knees before he can react. His breath catches as you tug his jeans down just enough, taking him in your hand, stroking slow and deliberate. You lean in, lips brushing the tip, then take him deep, tongue swirling, savoring the way he groans, low and guttural, his hand fisting in your hair.

“Fuck, princess,” he gasps, hips rocking into your mouth, his control slipping. You work him expertly, bringing him right to the edge, his breaths ragged, his cock twitching as he’s about to come.

And then you stop. You pull back, standing with a smirk, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “Not tonight,” you say, voice dripping with mock sweetness, turning on your heel and leaving him panting, jeans around his thighs, cursing your name into the empty garage.

He’s relentless after that, his teasing more pointed, his presence inescapable. He shows up with that smirk, leaning against the wall, dropping filthy promises just loud enough for you to hear. “You’re gonna beg for me one day, princess,” he murmurs one night, brushing past you, fingers grazing your hip. “And I’m gonna make you pay for those little games.”

You keep up the game, sometimes ignoring him, sometimes pushing him to the edge only to leave him hanging, each encounter fueling the fire between you. The tension’s a live wire, crackling with every glance, every touch, until it feels like the air itself might ignite.

And again, you began treating him like he was invisible, a ghost in the room. You wanted him to taste the sting of being left wanting, to feel the ache of being abandoned mid-breath. One night, he catches you locking up, pulling up in his truck just as you’re about to leave. The rain’s a light mist, dampening your hair, your clothes. He’s in the driver’s seat, window down, arm resting on the frame, tattoos glistening under the streetlight.

“Get in,” he says, voice low, not a question.

“No,” you snap, turning away.

He’s out of the truck in a flash, grabbing your wrist, spinning you to face him. “Stop running,” he says, eyes dark, searching yours. “You can’t keep pretending this doesn’t mean something.”

You yank your hand free, but he’s close, too close, and your resolve wavers. “It was a mistake,” you lie, voice unsteady.

His smirk is gone, replaced by something raw. “Then let me make it right.”

Against your better judgment, you let him lead you to the truck, climbing into the passenger seat. He drives in silence, the city blurring past, until you pull up to a dimly lit tattoo parlor, the neon sign buzzing in the mist.

“Trust me,” he says, opening your door, his hand lingering on your lower back as he guides you inside.

The parlor’s gritty, the air sharp with ink and antiseptic. Jin’s friend, a burly guy with a neck tattoo, nods and leaves you in a private room. Jin’s in his element, leather jacket slung over a chair as he preps the machine, his movements precise, reverent.

“Relax,” he says, voice soothing, but his eyes are wicked. “I’m marking you. Something small. Something mine.”

You swallow, pulse racing as he guides you to lie back on the table. He pushes your shirt up, exposing the skin just below your breast, fingers brushing with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. The needle buzzes, and you tense, but his hand on your thigh grounds you, thumb stroking slow circles.

“Stay still,” he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The pain’s sharp but fleeting, blending with the heat pooling in your core as he works, his focus intense. When he finishes, he wipes the spot clean—a tiny star with moon, delicate but stark, its edges glinting with silver ink.

“Perfect,” he says, voice rough with satisfaction. He kisses the sensitive skin, tongue flicking to soothe the sting. You gasp, hands fisting the table, and he chuckles, lips curving.

“Hold on,” he says, sliding your jeans down to expose the skin above your bikini line. “One more.”

The pain’s sharper here, more sensitive, but his fingers wander, teasing just close enough to make you squirm, to make you drip. By the time he finishes—a smaller star, his initials hidden in the points—you’re a mess, thighs slick, breath desperate.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, wiping the ink, fingers lingering. “So fucking wet, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He doesn’t wait, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them just right, thumb circling your clit. You arch off the table, a moan tearing from your throat, and he kisses you to muffle it, mouth hot and demanding.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and you do, hard and fast, body shaking as he works you through it, eyes never leaving yours.

You don’t talk about it after, but something shifts. You still snap at him, still roll your eyes, but the heat’s undeniable, a current neither of you can ignore. One night, you push him too far, teasing him at a bar, brushing against him, smirking when he tries to pull you close. His grip on your wrist is tight, jaw set, and when he gets you to his truck, he hauls you into the backseat, windows fogging.

“Think you’re cute?” he growls, pulling you onto his lap, leather jacket half-on. “Rolling your eyes like I won’t make you pay.”

You grind against him, smirking, and he slaps your thigh, hard. “Don’t test me, princess.”

He yanks your shirt up, jeans down, spanks you and then he’s inside you, hands gripping your hips as you ride him, slow then faster, the truck rocking. His hand wraps around your throat, rings cold.

“Say you’re mine,” he orders, voice dangerous.

“I’m yours,” you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Louder.”

“I’m yours!”

He groans, pulling you down for a bruising kiss, hips snapping up. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and the praise sends you spiraling, your orgasm crashing over you. He follows, grip tightening, breath hot against your neck as he comes, muttering your name.

The garage becomes your battleground, your confession booth. Every night, he pushes you, claims you, and you let him, because you’re his, and he’s yours, in a way that’s messy and raw.

One night, as the rain falls, he pulls you close, lips soft against your forehead, arms wrapped around you. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, barely audible, the boy from high school bleeding through the man he’s become.

You tilt his chin up, meeting his eyes, seeing the guilt, the want, the love he’s too scared to name. “You’re grown up now and you are enough,” you say, and you mean it.

He kisses you, slow and deep, and it’s not about possession or power. It’s about something more, something neither of you can name but both of you feel, heavy and true.

And as the rain keeps falling, you know you’ll never be the same.

Taglist: @the-djarin-clan  . @bebabido , @btsstraykidsateez

[shadowkoo]

Very Bad Behavior

→ Summary: Tall, dark, and dangerous. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. They say bad things come in threes, and you’ve spent your entire life steering clear of every troublesome temptation. But when a familiar stranger catches your eye one night at work, resisting suddenly feels impossible. You might just start to wonder how bad can indulging in a little bad behavior really be? Especially when it feels so good…

↠ seokjin x f.reader | 6.9k words | 18+ ↠ genre: rockstar au, one night stand, famous guitarist!seokjin x oblivious/non-fan bartender!reader, smut, strangers to lovers

→ Warnings: explicit sex, protected sex, rough sex, strong language, drug usage, alcohol consumption, praise kink, hair pulling, biting, mutual masturbation, manhandling, nipple play, breast play, begging, dirty talk, heavy teasing, spanking, multiple orgasms, grinding, exhibitionism, doggy, deep dicking, size kink, Seokjin is (rightfully) cocky about his huge dong, belly bulge, getting off from the vibrations created by jin’s motorcycle 👀, cocky dom!seokjin, oh and i almost forgot… jin’s got a magic cross dick piercing 😈

→ Networks: @ksmutsociety @k-vanity @keopihaus @lapydiaries @bangtanwritershq

→ Author Note: This is long overdue (me and collab deadlines don’t have the best relationship lol), here’s my part of the Can’t Be Tamed collab hosted by Sav @jeonjcngkook. Also a big thank you to Ley @pars-ley for beta reading this for me, I adore you!!!! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3 divider credit

ıllıllı [ now playing ▸ vbb.mp3 ] ıllıllı

˙⟡˙ the new insane — counterfeit ˙⟡˙ what do you want from me? — bad omens ˙⟡˙ antimatter — silent planet ˙⟡˙ (pls) set me on fire — enter shikari ˙⟡˙ code mistake — corpse x bring me the horizon ˙⟡˙ bang bang — revnoir ˙⟡˙ instead — xdinary heroes, yoon do hyun ˙⟡˙ apathy — windwaker ˙⟡˙ die mf die — dope ˙⟡˙ self sacrifice — wage war ˙⟡˙

⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆

“What can I get you?” you holler over your shoulder to the new body sitting on an open stool. Quickly stuffing the cash into the register, you turn around with your usual customer-service smile and hand the remaining change to the couple as they gather their things, preparing to leave.

It’s been busy all day, with waves of customers coming and going, but now you’re in that brief lull after the dinner rush, just before the night crowd starts to fill the room. With the peak of the summer season in full swing, business has been non-stop. And tonight should be even more hectic as it’s Friday night.

Walking toward the new guy waiting, you look him over while trying to get a good read. You first notice his glazed-over and slightly red eyes, a trait you easily recognize as a bartender at a popular downtown dive bar. He has a half-smoked blunt hanging between his fingers, somehow making himself look even more attractive.

Next, your vision trails along the black ink covering his tanned skin; a lightning bolt at the corner of his right eye, Fearless scribbled below his left, and a large piece with skulls and roses took up most of the space on his neck. And even though he’s wearing a leather jacket, it’s not hard to guess that his arms and other places are most likely covered by tattoos too.

“Surprise me, gorgeous,” he says, leaning forward with a dangerous smile.

Rolling your eyes at the overused line, you reach for the ingredients you need to mix something this pretentious guy would never order for himself. You do your best to hide your smirk as you grab the bottle of peach schnapps from the sea of other liquors and the orange juice from the cooler near your waist.

His gaze wanders from your curvaceous backside to what you’re making. “Ah, Sex on a Beach,” he notes, as you hand over the cherry-colored drink, with the umbrella and all. “My favorite.” His sparkling eyes lock with yours when your hands touch during the exchange.

“Really? Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Well, that’s fair. Would it be more believable if I said I’m usually more of a Jack and Coke guy?”

“Oh wow, now that is surprising,” you tease. “Who would’ve guessed?”

“Alright, what’s your go-to then? What do you recommend?”

You lean against the counter, pretending to ponder deeply, “I would have to say peanut butter flavored whiskey has my attention at the moment.”

“Fuck that,” he says with another grin that shows off his perfectly white teeth.

Who is this man, and why is he such a stunner?!

“You can’t be serious?”

A smirk grows on your lips as you grab two shot glasses and the bottle of Skrewball. You fill them without looking, a fun bartender trick of yours, keeping your eyes locked onto his. You pass one to him, keeping the other for yourself and lifting it to cheers, “Bottoms up.”

He lets out a sigh, “Here goes nothin’...” His face immediately twists up in disgust, and he sputters after swallowing. “Oh my god,” he clears his throat. “That has to be the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure nastier things have found their way between your lips,” you joke, laughing while he finishes the glass of water you also set out for him.

“You have no idea…” he says, playing along.

“So, what brings you to town?” And more importantly, how long are you here for?

“Ah, I’m just here for the weekend with my buddies,” he smiles, before taking a sip of his sex on the beach.

The front door opening interrupts your conversation, and a group of college-aged guys walk in, who immediately wave you down to get their drinks.

“Hold that thought,” you say, eyes drifting back to the door as it opens again for the next group that struts in and joins the guys who are now whistling for your attention. “I’ll be right back, gotta take care of these assholes.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. When I need another I’ll just whistle for ya.” He smirks, and your insides heat up while you walk away. You don’t know him, but you like him.

Unfortunately, that lovely group kept you busier than you would have liked. By the time you can satisfy them and the girls whose drinks they also bought, the handsome stranger is long gone.

All that remains is an empty glass sitting on top of a napkin with the words, “Thanks for the chat and the amazing sex (on the beach), See you around!” scribbled along with a crisp hundred-dollar bill.

You wonder if you'll ever see him again. The odds are slim, and you try not to let that sting.

The rest of the night flies by, and before you know it, it’s approaching 3 a.m. Much to no one's surprise, you’ve made your entire month’s rent in tips tonight, which is why you love working closing shifts when everyone else would prefer to already be home and in bed.

Bartending is typically an easy job if you like being social. Drunk men are easy to flirt with and the money flows if you can bullshit with them for long enough.

“Have a good night, guys,” you say, waving goodbye to Jenny, the other bartender working with you tonight, and her boyfriend Dino, who also happens to be the bar’s bouncer.

They wave back and say goodnight before turning to walk home together, leaving you to finish locking up.

Your loud yawn is hidden by the low rumbles of a nearby motorcycle, and the exhaustion of the busy night finally hits you. Dropping your keys into your purse, you turn in the opposite direction to head home.

“Calling it a night this early?” a familiar voice says from the darkness surrounding you. You freeze in place, trying to make out the shadowed figure.

“Oh,” you say in relief, after taking a couple of steps closer and seeing the hot guy from earlier. “It's you.”

“I was wondering when you’d get off,” he says, his smooth voice making your skin shiver.

“Aww, have you been waiting this whole time?” you ask, a slight tease in your tone.

He leans casually against his bike, the city lights flickering in his eyes. “Nah, I met up with my friends for a bit. Then realized I forgot to give you something.”

You tilt your head, with a playful smirk on your lips. “Let me guess, your number? Or your name?” Heat curls in your stomach; either one would be a win.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his gaze trailing over you like a slow caress. “But you gotta work for it.” He swings a leg over his motorcycle and taps the empty space in front of him. “Sit.”

You raise a brow but obey, straddling the bike backward so you're facing him. It’s not like you’re going for a ride, so what does it matter? He doesn’t complain about your positioning. His hands quickly find your thighs, his thumbs tracing slow, intoxicating circles into your skin.

“So…” you exhale, pulse quickening under his touch. “What did you forget?”

His smile turns cocky, and without warning he leans in, his lips a breath away from yours.

“This,” he whispers before kissing you. He claims your mouth with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt and certainly no space for air. His hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you closer until there’s nothing between you.

You can’t believe this is happening, you’re practically straddling a hot stranger’s lap, tangled in a very heated kiss. Even the cool night air does nothing to tame the fire licking at your skin.

Threading your fingers through his thick hair, you tug just enough to draw a low groan from him. Your hips shift instinctively, and the moment you do, a gasp slips from your lips. The deep purr of the motorcycle beneath you vibrates through every inch of your body, teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves through your jean shorts.

He pulls back just enough to smirk, his breath hot against your lips. “Does that feel good, gorgeous?” His voice is low, dripping with sin. “Are you a needy little whore who just has to get off?”

Before you can respond, his strong hand presses against your lower back, guiding you down against the hard metal of his bike. The vibrations intensify, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Grind those hips, baby,” he purrs, his other hand still gripping your thigh. “Show me how needy you are.”

A whimper escapes you as your hips obey, moving with desperate friction, chasing that delicious edge. He leans in, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers filth that only makes the ache worse.

“You’re such a pretty little whore,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “But I think you need to show a little more skin for me.”

He tugs down the scoop neckline of your shirt, exposing the delicate lace of your bra. His eyes darken, admiration flickering in them as he takes in the sight of you.

He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over the fabric before he presses his mouth against it. Leaving a teasing kiss, then another. His tongue traces over the lace, dampening it, before he tugs it down, both layers of fabric pushing your breasts up enticingly. His gaze flickers up to meet yours, and he grins devilishly as he watches them bounce in time with your desperate movements.

Without warning, his lips latch onto the soft peak of your flesh, sucking greedily before biting down just enough to make you gasp. The sharp pleasure sends another jolt of heat pooling low in your stomach. He moves to the other nipple, his tongue teasing you and savoring this moment.

He doesn’t need to hear you say that you’re close; he can feel it in the way your hips stutter against his bike. Your movements growing erratic, more desperate.

He groans against your skin, voice thick with satisfaction. “Come undone for me,” he commands, his grip tightening. His voice is possessive and downright dangerous. “Right now.”

Your body shatters, pleasure ripping through you in the form of an uncontrollable moan spilling from your lips. He holds you close, his lips brushing against your temple as he chuckles, satisfied.

“Good girl,” he murmurs smugly, his voice laced with approval. “That’s it.” He pulls your bra and shirt back up, covering your exposed skin just before a car drives by.

You’re still catching your breath, pulse hammering, when reality crashes back in. “Oh my god,” you whisper, pressing a hand to your face. “I cannot believe that just happened.”

He grins, tilting his head. “Oh, you better believe it, sweetheart.” He lets his fingers trail over your thigh before reaching into his leather jacket, pulling out a small envelope.

“Here.” He holds it out to you, his smirk sinful. “Save a little of that bad behavior for me tomorrow.”

You take the envelope, raising an eyebrow. “What is this?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Open it later and find out.”

You roll your eyes, but the teasing glint in your gaze betrays your curiosity. “Mysterious and cocky. Dangerous combo.”

“You’re into it,” he counters smoothly, reaching around your body and revving the engine beneath you. The vibrations send a wicked aftershock through your overstimulated body, making you shiver. His pleased smirk deepens. “Time to hop off, baby.”

You bite your lip, still breathless. “All that, and you’re still not going to tell me your name?”

He shakes his head, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “Show up tomorrow, and maybe I will.”

With one last lingering glance, you slide off his bike, your legs still unsteady as you head back to your car.

He watches you with that devilish smirk, like he already knows you’ll meet him damn near anywhere tomorrow. Just for a repeat of something similar to tonight.

And dammit, he’s probably right.

Everyone told Seokjin that bringing his motorcycle on tour was a bad idea.

It’ll take up too much space. It might get damaged. Some unhinged fan could steal it and sell it for a million dollars.

But none of those reasons had been enough to stop him. Especially when the pro list included making you come undone last night, riding the vibrations of his engine like a damn symphony.

That memory alone? Worth every logistical nightmare.

He smirks to himself, leaning against a wall backstage, eyes scanning the slowly filling venue. Doors had opened thirty minutes ago, and the first opener is about to hit the stage.

But so far…there’s no sign of the pretty brunette that he’s been unable to stop thinking about.

“There you are,” a deep voice says from behind.

Startled, Seokjin turns slightly to find Yoongi, one of the band’s other guitarists, watching him with mild amusement.

“Didn’t think you were the crowd-watching type,” Yoongi adds with a raised eyebrow, stepping beside him.

Seokjin shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Just scoping the energy.”

“Uh-huh. Seems like you’re looking for someone?”

Jin manages to dodge the question when Taehyung, their lead singer, bursts out of the dressing room with a parade of barely-dressed women behind him.

“Dude,” Taehyung groans dramatically, “Where’s the fucking booze? The dressing room’s already dry. Can you believe that shit?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Yoongi deadpans.

The two immediately fall into their usual back-and-forth, trading sarcastic barbs and wild theories about who drank the last bottle of whiskey. But Seokjin tunes them out.

His gaze is still locked on the crowd, his fingers tapping nervously against his thigh. You’d never confirmed that you were coming tonight, despite him counting on it.

Did you look up the band after opening that envelope? The one he slipped into your hands right before you walked away, while you were still flushed and a little breathless after your little exhibitionist act? The one containing a ticket to tonight’s sold out show, with an all-access pass that gets you the best view inside the barricade, plus allows you backstage.

He wonders if you pieced it together, if you made the connection about who he was.

You two hit it off instantly. It was far more than he ever expected when he stopped by that bar for a quick drink, barely an hour after their tour bus pulled into the venue lot. He’d debated it. Going out without security wasn’t exactly recommended, not with how massive their fanbase is. But it was still early enough in the night before it would be too busy, and surprisingly, no one recognized him.

Not even you. That was the most refreshing part.

You didn’t look at him like he was Seokjin, popular rhythm guitarist of Dark & Wild, the notoriously reckless band that had carved its name into rock history with more scandals than awards. You weren’t starry-eyed over the media headlines, the platinum records, or the chaos they left behind in every city.

You looked at him like he was just a man.

Not a musician, not a rockstar. Just a stranger with a sharp jaw, a dirty mouth, and a bike that made you blush.

You didn’t know he was in the middle of the Can’t Be Tamed world tour, one of the most anticipated events in music, already dubbed by critics as legendary, unfiltered, and unforgettable.

And that’s what made last night feel so real. It was raw and unscripted. Something he hasn’t had the pleasure of enjoying in quite some time.

Now, with adrenaline in the air and the crowd getting louder, he’s wondering if you'll stand out from the sea of faces. Or if you’ll remain hidden at the back of the crowd. He hopes you’ll use your advantage and be right up front. Right below his spot on stage, so he can tower over your pretty frame and show off.

God, he really hopes that’s the case.

As the bass echoes off the walls and stage lights flash when the first band takes the stage, Seokjin can’t help but wonder if last night was the last time he’ll ever see you?

With a quiet sigh, he turns away from the crowd and heads back to the dressing room to finish putting on his makeup and stage outfit. Still, his mind keeps drifting back to you.

His lips curl into a smirk at the memory of your face last night. How gorgeous you looked as you came undone in front of him, bold and unfiltered, grinding against the vibrations of his bike like you had nothing to prove. Damn, you were daring. Something refreshing that he found sexy as hell.

Jin chuckles under his breath, the memory fading as another wave of uninteresting women spills into the room with the company of his other bandmates.

A concert ticket… and an all-access pass? Is this what he’s in town for?

You turn the items over in your hands, reading the details printed in bold ink. Dark & Wild – Can’t Be Tamed World Tour. Your eyes widen slightly. That’s tonight.

You bite your lip, thinking it over.

Dark & Wild. Is that his favorite band? It would make sense, he definitely looks like the type who enjoys heavy guitar riffs and screaming fans. And he did mention he was only in town for the weekend.

But how the hell did he manage to score tickets? You remember hearing on the radio at work that the concert had completely sold out weeks ago.

Maybe he works for the band? A roadie, perhaps? He did have that confident, edgy energy. Like someone who thrives in the chaos of tour life, all the late nights and loud music.

Whatever his connection is, it doesn’t really matter. You’re just excited to see him again for your date tonight. Sure, it was technically just an invitation…but in your head, it counts as a date. And the butterflies in your stomach haven’t stopped fluttering since you opened the envelope earlier.

You can’t even remember the last time you were this excited for something. It’s been forever since a guy made your heart race. And, if you’re being honest, even longer since someone made you come like that.

So yeah, you’re definitely going.

You even decide to dress up more than you normally would for a concert. Not that you like to try hard, but hey, you’ve got someone to impress. Slipping into a black mini skirt that hugs your hips just right, you pair it with a black and white leopard print corset that cinches your waist and shows just enough cleavage to tempt. Then come the knee-high red leather boots that make your legs look a mile long and are impossible to ignore.

You twist your dark hair up into a messy-but-intentional style, securing it with a sharp chrome hair clip that glints under the light. With a swipe of eyeliner and a touch of red lipstick, you take one last glance in the mirror. Perfect timing, because your phone buzzes soon after.

Grabbing your purse, you sigh in an attempt to calm the nerves glittering beneath the surface as your Uber pulls up. The ride is short, or perhaps your mind is just preoccupied with the possibilities of tonight. 

After getting dropped off, your heart flutters with each step you make toward the venue doors. The closer you get, the more real it feels.

Once the staff member waves you through after scanning your ticket, your pulse quickens. You’re about to see him again. The mysterious stranger who took one ordinary night and turned it into something wild. You wonder if he’s already arrived, if he’s waiting for you. If his face will light up when you walk toward him.

An hour later, your excitement slowly starts to unravel. The second act is about to finish their set, and there’s still no sign of him. You’ve been scanning the crowd nonstop, but the faces blur together under pulsing lights and stage fog. Though you know you’d be able to sense him.

But he’s not here.

Your stomach knots a little tighter with each passing minute. Maybe he got caught up. Maybe he’s still on the way. Maybe he’s at the bar. Maybe–

You chew your bottom lip, clutching your purse a little tighter.

Maybe he changed his mind.

As a last resort, you make your way toward the security guards stationed at the far left side of the barricade, right by the emergency exit doors.

You’ve been quietly watching from afar as a couple of crew members flash their passes before slipping past security like it’s no big deal. You hadn’t wanted to go that route unless you had to. But now, with no sign of him in the crowd and your hope thinning by the minute, it feels like your only shot.

You hesitate; the idea of being so close to the stage makes you uneasy. Especially when you barely know anything about the headliners who are about to run out. You don’t want to look out of place, like someone who doesn’t belong.

Still, you have to do it. You internally groan as you approach the guards, trying to look casual as you hold out your pass. They barely glance at it before nodding and letting you through. You step past the barricade and find a spot that hugs the left side of the stage, doing your best to stay out of the spotlight. 

This side of the barrier is mostly empty. A few photographers are positioned with heavy cameras and media badges dangling from their necks. Past them and off to the right, you spot a small group of women. Probably girlfriends, or maybe groupies, laughing amongst themselves, already at ease.

He’s not here either.

You scan again, just to be sure.

Still, there’s no sign of the handsome stranger.

You’re about to give up and leave, heavy disappointment beginning to settle in. Of all the people to get stood up by, it had to be someone who was really nice, actually funny, and insanely attractive.

Boy, do you know how to pick them.

Just when you’re ready to call it a night, you catch yourself and halt your mood from worsening. Fuck it. Why should you miss out on the show? It’s free, after all. Now that the popular band is about to take the stage, you might as well stay and enjoy the music. It sure as hell beats going home to another lonely evening.

Suddenly, the stage lights dim, and the crowd roars as members start stepping into their places. As the intro of their first song begins, the lights flash back on and the screaming intensifies. That’s when your heart does a little flip, as your eyes fall on him.

Wait.

Holy shit.

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but when it does, you inhale rapidly. Your stranger isn’t a fan or roadie…he’s in the band.

His eyes lock onto yours across the stage, and you freeze, completely stunned by this new information. He smiles, pleased to see you, and then bam. That familiar smirk spreads across his face. He winks next, which makes your stomach flip as the barricade of fangirls behind you scream even louder.

What a fucking tease.

The roar of the crowd, the pounding beat of the drums, and the electrifying guitar riffs all hit you at once. You feel the vibrations from the amps in your chest. As they dive further into their set, something clicks, you actually know some of these songs; sometimes they’d play over the radio at the bar during your shifts. Catchy enough to hum along to, sure, but never quite playlist-worthy. At least, not until now.

Because hearing them live? It’s something else entirely. The sound wraps around you, enveloping you in heat and haze, and you don’t even try to fight it as the music pulls you under its spell.

Your motorcycle-riding, guitar-playing, dangerously handsome stranger moves across the stage like he owns it. Every step, every strum, is perfectly in sync with the rhythm. There’s a swagger to the way he plays, like he knows exactly how good he is. And how good he looks doing it.

Seokjin knows you’re watching him. He loves that your eyes trail him no matter where he moves on stage. He’s an entertainer, after all. He’s used to having thousands of women’s eyes on him. But tonight he only cares about yours.

He sneaks another glance at you.

You’ve let go completely, swaying your hips and dancing without a care. He smiles, he’s maybe even a little awestruck, as he takes in how much fun you’re having. He can’t help but stare like you’re the only person in the room.

And every time your gaze flicks back up to him, he’s already looking. 

You lock eyes again and again, holding each other’s stare until he breaks it to look out over the crowd or exchange a nod with another band member. The smoldering glances you share make your stomach do flips and your knees feel a little weaker than you'd like to admit.

You came to this show expecting just to see him. Now you’re not sure how the hell you’re supposed to walk away without wanting more. Without needing to know what it would be like to have one night with him.

Last night was just the preview.

He and another member run off stage, prob to get a water or something, you don’t think anything of it because not even a minute later they're back on stage and starting the next song.

It’s a ballad, and you sway along to the romantic lyrics, when someone suddenly taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, Seokjin sent me down here. Do you have the pass he gave you?”

Seokjin. That’s his name.

You nod and lift it off your neck.

"Perfect. Once the band comes back out for their two encore songs, head over there,” he points toward the other end of the stage, “And show your pass to the security by the stairs. They’ll let you through so you can watch from side stage until the set's over."

Jin can’t help the satisfied grin that spreads across his face the moment he spots you standing side stage, tucked behind a couple of crew members. The lighting casts a soft glow on your face, and for a second, the chaos of the show fades into the background.

He still can’t believe that you’re here.

The band powers through the final encore, leaving the crowd screaming for more as they belt out the last note. After one final strum, Jin tosses a few guitar picks into the sea of fans, flashing a wink to the front row before stepping off stage, adrenaline still buzzing through his veins.

He heads toward you, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair, only stopping when the rest of the guys crowd around him. Peering over their shoulders, he catches your eye and waves you over.

"Come here, I want you to meet everyone," he says, without any hesitation. He gestures to the group of men, each in various states of post-show chaos, shirtless, sweaty, all grinning. “This is Yoongi and Jimin, our other guitarists. Joon plays bass. Hobi and Tae are our lead vocalists—”

“And that,” a new, cockier voice says, cuting off Jin, “Leaves the best for last.”

A tall, inked-up guy with loose dark curls and a smirk that screams trouble steps forward. He extends a hand toward you, “I’m Jungkook. I slam the shit out of the drums…among other things.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Jin rolls his eyes so hard it’s almost audible. Jungkook enjoys riling him up, especially in front of a gorgeous girl. His grin only widens when Seokjin shoots him a warning look.

“Don’t mind him,” Jin mutters under his breath, his hand grazing your lower back possessively. “He’s still trying to figure out how to flirt without being a menace.”

You laugh when Jungkook winks at you. “What can I say? I’m a crowd favorite.”

Jin snorts. “Sure, dude.”

The guys chuckle before greeting the other women who walk up to the group. But Jin lingers beside you, eyes never quite leaving your face.

“You looked good out there,” you say, still buzzing from the show.

He smirks. “You looked better.”

“You guys ready to party?” Jimin hollers, already halfway toward the exit with a couple of girls on his arms.

Jin doesn’t answer right away. His hand slides lower, fingers brushing over the bare sliver of skin between your corset top and your skirt. The light touch sends a trail of goosebumps up your spine.

“We’ll meet you there,” he finally says, not breaking eye contact with you.

He hadn’t fully registered what you were wearing earlier. He’d been so caught up in the fact that you were here, he missed the finer details. Now he’s taking in every inch of you; the curve of your hips, the way your corset hugs your curves, especially the flash of thigh above those red boots.

And all he can think about is how badly he wants enjoy you.

Jimin catches the look on Jin’s face and raises an eyebrow knowingly, but he doesn’t say a word. Just smirks, wraps his arms around two women like the rockstar he is, and calls out, “Alright ladies, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

He disappears, leaving you and Jin in your little bubble while the crew begins to pack up around you.

“Come on,” Jin murmurs, leaning closer to your ear, his hand still on your back, “I want you all to myself for just a little longer.”

He pulls you into the dressing room, the door slamming shut behind you before he swiftly locks it. In the next second, your back hits the door with a soft thud, his body pressed against yours.

“So…Seokjin,” you tease, lips curling into a wicked little smile. “Any other secrets you’re keeping from me?”

He chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leans in. “Mmm, no secrets,” he murmurs, eyes dark with need. “But say my name again.”

You obey, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Seokjin.”

He groans softly, like the sound of his name on your lips is something filthy and divine all at once. “Shit, baby. It sounds so good coming from you.”

His hands roam your waist, gripping the curve of your hips like he’s already imagining what they’ll feel like wrapped around him.

“Now that you know who I am,” he breathes, brushing his lips along your jaw, “You understand this can only be a one-time thing.”

You meet his eyes, unbothered by that fact, and your breath hitches as his fingers play with the hemline of your miniskirt.

“So fucking worth it,” you whisper, before crashing your mouth against his, your hands tangling in his hair.

It’s all heat and hunger, there’s no hesitation between either of you.

He presses you harder into the door, pinning you between the solid wood and his firm body. Without warning, he lifts you, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. 

Jin’s mouth is everywhere; your neck, your collarbone, the soft swell of your chest. His hands slide over the curve of your ass, kneading possessively, before one dips lower. His fingers curl inward, teasing your aching core through the thin fabric of your panties.

You gasp against his lips, moaning softly as his fingers graze right where you need him the most. But just as you start to roll your hips into his hand, he pulls away.

The sound of your whimper is swallowed by his deep groan as he grinds his hips into you. The thick, hard length of him presses right against your center, and you swear your body trembles at the contact.

“Oh my god,” you mewl, head falling back as you feel just how big he is, even through layers of clothing. Your body clenches in anticipation.

“I can’t wait to sink into you,” he growls against your throat, his voice deliciously rough. “You ready for me, baby? Think you can handle all of me?”

He thrusts his hips again, making your breath hitch.

“I bet you can’t wait for me to split you open,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “Stretch you so fucking wide, you’ll feel me for days. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Seokjin, please,” you beg shamelessly.

That’s all he needs to hear.

He turns, carrying you across the room like you weigh nothing, and tosses you down onto the leather sofa. You land with a bounce, your heart pounding and thighs clenching.

He stands over you for a second, his dark eyes raking over your body below, savoring the way you look spread out and desperate for him.

“Take off your panties,” he commands, “I want to watch.”

You don’t hesitate. Slipping your fingers beneath the fabric, you begin to slide the soaked lace down your thighs. They snag slightly on your boots, but he’s already kneeling to help, tugging them the rest of the way off with a growl of frustration and want.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, eyes darkening as he takes in the slick glistening between your thighs. “You’re already dripping for me.”

He rises and takes a few steps away, grabbing a condom from a torn-open box on the counter, clearly left out by someone else’s pre-show indulgences. But when he turns back around, what he sees nearly sends him to his knees.

You’ve leaned back into the couch, one arm propped behind you, the other between your thighs. Your legs are spread wide, shameless, your skirt hiked up around your waist as your fingers slowly circle your clit before slipping lower, dipping into your soaked entrance.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes, hand moving to palm himself as you moan and bite your lip, teasing him with a second finger. Your eyes meet his, heavy with lust, and the raw hunger between you thickens.

He pulls his cock free from his pants, and your gaze drops instantly—only to widen at the shimmer of something silver catching the overhead light.

He strokes himself with the same speed as your fingers, letting you see every inch of what you’re about to take. The thick, veined length of him is beautiful, but it’s the four tiny silver beads at the crown of his cockhead, encircling his tip in a perfect ring of piercings, that leave you breathless.

Your core clenches around your fingers at the sight.

He sees your reaction and smirks, lazily making his way back toward you with that same infuriating, devastating confidence, and still pumping his cock as if he has all the time in the world.

“Curious?” he rasps, towering over you.

You nod, lips parted, breath shallow with anticipation.

He strokes the head of his cock once, collecting the bead of precum glistening at the tip. Without taking his eyes off yours, he brings his thumb down to your mouth.

“You’ll find out what they do soon enough,” he murmurs.

Your lips close around his thumb without hesitation, sucking softly. Tasting him, teasing him.

That last thread of Seokjin’s composure snaps. He swears under his breath, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he tears open the condom with his teeth before swiftly rolling it on over his thick, pierced length.

Then, without warning, he grabs your hips and slams into you in one devastating thrust.

The force rocks you back into the cushions, a sharp cry escaping your lips. If it weren’t for the vice grip he had on you, you might’ve been launched right off the damn couch.

“Fuck,” he growls, head falling forward for a moment as he adjusts to your tight, wet heat. “You feel better than I imagined.”

You’re breathless, body arching to take him deeper as the metal beads drag against your inner walls with every slow pull back, sending sparks shooting through your entire core.

Your hands clutch at the edge of the sofa, eyes rolling back as he thrusts hard again.

And just like that, you're ruined.

“You love how I split your pretty little pussy open, don’t you?” he growls against your neck, voice dark and possessive. “No one else is ever gonna compare to me. No one else is gonna fuck you like this. This deep, this hard.”

You let out a broken moan, your entire body trembling beneath him. Words are useless now, your brain is too foggy, too overloaded with pleasure to even form a sentence. All you can do is gasp and cling to him like your life depends on it.

“Look at how much of me you take,” he grunts, pulling back just enough to force your gaze downward.

The sight between your thighs is obscene. His thick, pierced cock driving into you over and over, glistening with your slick. You can see the slight swell in your lower belly every time he bottoms out, a bulge pressing up under your skin.

“Oh my god,” you whimper.

“I don’t even know how I fit,” he teases, panting now, a wild smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s like a goddamn magic trick, huh?”

Then he shifts, just a slight change in angle, but the second those cool metal beads drag across your sweet spot, everything inside you unravels.

Your body arches, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave. You clamp down around him, shaking, gasping, crying out his name as he fucks you through it.

“That’s it,” he growls, losing his rhythm just a little as you tighten around him. “That’s my good fucking girl.”

Before your body even has a chance to recover, he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your limbs still trembling from your last orgasm.

His grip is firm, one hand wrapped around your waist to steady your quivering body. You barely have time to brace yourself before you feel the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into the plush of your ass, followed by the loud crack of his palm slapping the other cheek.

“Fuck, look at that,” he groans, admiring the fresh red print blooming beneath his hand and the indents of his teeth on your skin. “You wear me so well.”

And then he’s sliding back in, fucking you from behind with bruising force. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes off the walls, mingling with your breathless moans and desperate cries of his name.

“Seokjin!” you scream, back arching as overwhelming pleasure rips through you.

He fists a handful of your hair and yanks your head back, hard. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

“Take it,” he snarls, his hips slamming into yours with punishing rhythm. “You love it rough like this, don’t you? Getting ruined like a fucking cock whore. Getting treated like the nasty girl you are.”

The pain and pleasure blur into one intoxicating haze as he brings his hand down on your ass again, another sharp spank that makes your legs shake and your core leak.

Just when you think you can't take any more, you feel his thumb press against your tightest hole, teasing as his cock drives into your soaked center. You whimper, your head dropping forward.

“Gonna fall apart for me again?” he pants behind you, voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You nod frantically, unable to speak, your walls already fluttering around him.

Then it hits you, your second orgasm tearing through your body, wave after wave of overwhelming ecstasy leaving you breathless and undone. Your vision goes hazy, your mouth falls open in a silent scream, and your entire body quakes under the weight of it.

You collapse forward, barely holding yourself up as your slick walls flutter wildly around him, clenching down like a vice.

“Jesus,” he grits out, his control unraveling in the heat of your orgasm. The way your body grips him, so fucking wet and perfect, drives him straight to the edge.

With a deep growl, he slams into you one final time, hips flush against your ass as he spills into the condom. Pulse after pulse of release torn from his body, as he holds you there, buried deep, his head thrown back as you milk every last drop from him with your trembling cunt.

You’re both breathless, your bodies slick with sweat and every nerve on fire from the intensity of it all.

For a moment, neither of you move, slowly coming down from something so fucking feral it barely feels real.

“So,” he says with a lazy grin, still catching his breath, “If I leave tickets for you next time we’re in town…you want a repeat?”

You stretch out beneath him, lips curling into a playful smirk. “Only if you promise to bring your motorcycle again.”

His eyes darken instantly, with a wicked glint. “Mmm, that’s a damn good idea.” He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Next time, I’m making you come twice before we even think about getting off that bike.”

You bite your lip, pulse quickening. “Sounds like a plan.”

He grins smugly. “Nah, baby…that sounds like a date.”

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[kthice]

ᴮᴬᴵᵀ | taehyung oneshot (completed) ( final )

Sypnosis: The memories fade, and so does the man he once was. Taehyung’s mind is a maze, but every turn leads him back to her.She says it’s for his own good, but the more he forgets, the more he feels something sinister lurking in the cracks of his own thoughts.In the game of minds, who do you think, truly holds the power: the one who remembers—or the one who makes you forget?

Genre : Psychological romance, mystery, drama, thriller.

Themes: memory manipulation, obsession, betrayal, toxic love, emotional control, blurred reality, identity loss

Warnings: psychological manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, trauma, dissociation, dark romantic dynamics, trigger themes related to trust and control.

( continuation from part 2 )

Flashback -

The night of the fire—the night that changed everything—is so clear in my mind, it feels like it happened yesterday.

It was supposed to be a celebration. We had just finished one of Taehyung’s so-called therapy sessions, a perfect night with wine, laughter, everything felt like it was falling into place. He had the charm, the smile, the hands that held me in a way that made me feel safe.

But that night, the night everything burned, was when I saw the cracks.

My mother... she had been the only person in my life who could see through Taehyung’s charming façade. She never trusted him. She warned me.

And I, too foolish to listen, chose him. I chose Taehyung over everything. Over her. Over what was right.

We had a fight. My mother begged me to leave him, begged me to see what he was.

But Taehyung... he wasn’t the man I thought he was.

He pushed her. He pushed her right into the fire.

And I stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to scream.

He watched her burn.

And in that moment, I saw him for who he really was—a man who thought he could destroy anyone who stood in his way.

After the fire, after the police reports, after everything—he tried to erase me. Wipe away my memory. Make me forget what he had done. But I was stronger than that.

I was smarter than that.

---

Back to the Present - Y/N's POV

The flames are getting higher, and Taehyung is still in the middle of it all—choking, stumbling, trying to fight his way out.

But I’m not here to save him. I’m not here to make him understand. I’m here to destroy him.

He still doesn’t see it. He doesn’t understand why I’m doing this. Doesn’t understand what I’ve been through.

> “You killed her, Taehyung,” I whisper, stepping closer to him as the fire crackles behind me. “You killed my mother, and now, you’re going to die in the same fire.”

Taehyung’s eyes flash with confusion, pain, and something darker—regret, maybe. But I don’t care.

I push him to the floor, watching as he struggles to breathe, watching as the life leaves his eyes. I step over him. The flames roar around us, but nothing else matters. Not anymore.

The tapes. The notes. Everything he tried to bury, erase, control—is gone.

The flames will take it all.

Everything he thought he could hide.

---

Y/N's Final Thoughts

Was this always my plan? To bring him here, to destroy him with my own hands? Or was it simply fate, the twisted hand of fate that put me in his path?

No. It was always going to be this way. From the moment I realized he couldn’t erase me. From the moment I saw him push my mother into the flames.

And now, as I watch the fire consume him, I can finally say it’s over.

He thought he was the mastermind. But I was the one who learned the game. And now... he’ll burn just like everything else.

---

Taehyung’s POV

The blinding white light of the hospital room feels suffocating. It makes everything sharper, clearer, but also distant. I can’t quite place the sensation, but there’s something gnawing at the edges of my mind, like I’ve forgotten something—something important.

I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. My body aches, and there’s a sharp pain shooting from my right hand. I look down to see the bandages wrapped tightly around my palm. The burn is severe, third-degree. But the worst part isn’t the pain—it’s the absence.

There’s a gap in my memory, like a hole where pieces should be. I feel like I’ve lost something crucial, like there was someone who mattered to me. Someone important. But every time I try to reach for the memory, it slips further away.

I shift in the bed, my eyes scanning the room, landing on my friends gathered around me.

Hobi, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi are there, their faces a mixture of concern and something darker, something I can’t quite put my finger on. There’s a heavy silence hanging in the air, like they’re waiting for something, hoping for something. But I don’t know what.

Hobi is the first to speak, his voice tight with emotion. “Taehyung, do you remember anything?”

I shake my head slowly. “I... I don’t. I remember waking up here. I remember the pain. But I... can’t remember anything else.”

Jungkook exchanges a glance with Jimin, and they both look away, unsure of how to proceed. But Yoongi doesn’t flinch. He steps forward, his usual calm demeanor masking something darker behind his eyes.

“You don’t remember Namjoon, do you?” Yoongi asks softly, his words cutting through the fog in my mind like a knife.

I stare at him, confusion twisting my insides. Namjoon. The name sparks no recognition. Nothing.

I open my mouth to say something, but my throat feels dry. It feels like the world is spinning around me, like I’ve missed an entire chapter of my life.

“No,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know what happened to Namjoon.”

The room falls silent again, the weight of my response hanging heavily in the air. My friends exchange uneasy glances, their faces tight with worry, but they don’t press me further. They don’t tell me what I’ve done, what I’ve forgotten. It’s as if they’re waiting for something to click.

But what if it never does? What if I never remember?

My head throbs as fragments of memories come and go. I see flashes of a woman—someone I should know, someone who mattered. I feel a surge of emotion, but it fades as quickly as it came, like sand slipping through my fingers. I can’t grasp it, can’t hold on.

---

Outside the Hospital Window – Y/N’s POV

I stand across the street, hidden in the shadows, my eyes trained on the hospital room. I’ve been waiting for this moment.

He doesn’t remember. Not yet. But he will.

I watch as Taehyung’s friends hover around him, the desperation in their eyes obvious. They think they’re helping him. They think they’ve saved him. But they don’t understand—no one does.

I’ve been watching him from afar, tracking his every move, making sure he doesn’t remember too soon. The time isn’t right. Not yet.

He’ll never know the truth. Not until it’s too late.

I smile to myself, feeling the familiar weight of satisfaction settle in my chest.

The game is far from over. This is only the beginning.

And this time, I’ll make sure he remembers everything. I’ll make sure he knows exactly who he is, who he was—and how he ruined me.

I turn away from the window, disappearing into the shadows once more.

The game has only just begun.

---

Taehyung’s POV

The hospital room is sterile. The bright, harsh lights do little to calm the overwhelming feeling of emptiness inside me. I’ve woken up in a daze, the memories I thought would flood back, never do. There’s a gap. A missing piece.

My hand, bandaged and aching, reminds me of the fire. I can’t recall how it started or how I ended up here, but there’s a distinct, unsettling sensation in my chest—like something crucial has been erased. The faces around me don’t help. Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi—all of them have that worried look, but I can’t place why. They keep talking about Namjoon.

Namjoon’s death.

It should matter. It should stir something inside me, but all I feel is confusion.

“Taehyung,” Jimin says, his voice tentative. “Do you remember… what happened to Namjoon?”

I don’t. I don’t even know why it should matter. The words feel distant, like a disconnected echo from another world. I look at his face, trying to find something that will make me remember, but all I can do is shake my head.

“I… I don’t remember,” I say, and the weight of it doesn’t sink in. “I woke up here.”

Jimin’s eyes search mine, like he’s waiting for something more. But there’s nothing to give him.

Namjoon’s death.

I should feel something, but instead, I feel nothing. The question hangs in the air, thick and suffocating. It presses into my chest. The more I try to ignore it, the louder it becomes. But I push it away, bury it under layers of confusion. It’s easier not to remember.

---

Later, in Taehyung’s Office—

The office is familiar. Too familiar. I’m trying to settle into something that feels normal, but my thoughts are still fragmented. Jimin’s still hovering, making light of my recovery. The banter helps, or at least it’s supposed to.

“You know, I bet you’ll forget all your appointments now,” Jimin teases, half-smiling, half-smirking.

I glance at him, my lips curling into a playful grin. “Maybe. But someone’s going to have to deal with me, right?”

I say it lightly, but there’s something in the air—something that feels wrong.

The door opens, and I turn, expecting my new secretary.

When she enters, time seems to freeze.

She’s tall, her presence commanding the room like an unseen storm. Her smile, sharp and unnervingly calm, doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Hello,” she says, her voice smooth, like silk, but with a coldness that sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m your new secretary. Here to remind you of your schedule. In case you forget.”

The words hang in the air, almost too deliberate. There’s something about her voice—too controlled, too perfect.

The tension in the room thickens. My body goes rigid, a primal sense of warning pulsing through me.

Jimin’s expression changes. He leans forward, his gaze hardening. The lightness of the room evaporates.

I can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way she says it—"People can be forgetful, you know? They sometimes don't have too much control with their minds"— she chuckles & that twists something deep inside me.

I blink.

It’s as if the air itself has changed, shifted. A sense of dread coils in my stomach.

I turn to Jimin, and his wide eyes meet mine. The silence between us speaks volumes, a shared understanding that neither of us wants to acknowledge.

There’s something wrong. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know—this isn’t just a secretary.

Her smile deepens, just a fraction. A subtle shift, like she’s watching us, waiting for something.

Then it clicks. Something I can’t explain, but it hits me with the force of a wave. The fear, the uncertainty—it’s all back. The old feeling I’ve been trying to ignore.

“Who are you?” Jimin says, his voice unsteady. The question is simple, but it feels like he’s asking more than he means to.

The woman doesn’t answer immediately. She simply stands there, her eyes dark, almost predatory. Then, after what feels like an eternity, she smiles again—wider this time, colder.

"I’m the one you’ve been forgetting,” she replies softly.

And just like that, the room is too quiet. Too still. I can feel the weight of something heavy, something unspoken, pressing down on me.

The moment stretches on, the air thick with unspoken words.

And then—her voice again, chilling, final—"I’m here to remind you of what you’ve lost."

---

( finished )

( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) ( final )

Kthice signing off !!

[kpopfanfictrash]

Clichés and Canapés (M) (Pt. 2)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: best friends to lovers; fake dating; billionaire au

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader (f)

Word Count: 40K

Author's Note: Part of the In Bloom collaboration with @kithtaehyung, @yoonia, @syllviere, @leahsfavefics, @suga-kookiemonster, and @cybrsan. Unfortunately, this is so long it has to be posted in two parts; please interact with both!

Synopsis: After twenty years of friendship, you’d think you were used to Seokjin’s proposals by now. In the past he’s forced you to participate in skydiving, skinny dipping, and even staging a rescue from the local shelter. Seokjin has always had big ideas but this time, even he may have gone too far. Granted, break-ups are stressful, and Seokjin’s latest one up was bad. Really bad. As in, they-ended-things-in-December-and-now-she’s-dating-his-brother bad.

It almost makes sense then, when Seokjin asks you to come home with him for his parents' party. Almost makes sense when he says his family assumed you were dating, and he didn't correct them. What doesn’t make sense is the longer you fake things, the more you find yourself wondering if this was real all along.

Rating: 18+; explicit sexual content.

Warnings (explicit content): oral (f. receiving), nipple play, delayed orgasms, sex w/out a condom, cum play, semi-public sex, light spanking, fingering, dirty talk, mention of voyeurism

Warnings (other): depictions of micro-aggressions, mentions of divorce (past tense), emotionally abusive/manipulative parents (side character)

A/N: this is not Part 1. Read Part 1 here.

The next two days pass without incident. Seokjin continues sleeping on the couch, even though you protest and offer the bed. Both dinner parties are mostly uneventful, except for an incident with the Morgan family on Wednesday. Mrs. Morgan drinks too much and snips something about how gracious Mr. and Mrs. Kim are to allow Emilia into their home, at which Jaesuk sets down his fork and point-blank asks them to explain the remark.

Mrs. Morgan got cagy and apologized, but she and her husband left swiftly following. You had to admit, you kind of got what Emilia saw in him then. Jaesuk isn’t as funny or outgoing as Seokjin, but he puts his foot down when needed – actually, he and Seokjin are alike in that manner.

The rest of your days are spent in the larger library. No one else is around, so it lends an aura of peace and quiet. Seokjin grades papers while you search the internet, make Pinterest boards, and finish an outline – all in the name of writing progress.

Slouched on the couch beside him, you peer over your laptop at Seokjin. It seems improbable that someone like him would happen naturally. Suspiciously, you wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Kim concocted him in a lab. Even his flaws – for example, near-sightedness – end up hurting you, since Seokjin is wearing wire-rimmed glasses while shuffling through his papers.

When he glances up, you look down and pretend to be working.

Softly, he chuckles. “Do you have everything you need for tonight?”

You frown at your laptop. Tonight is the cocktail party before the main event. The Morgans will be back, along with several others – at least the Astors won’t be there. You only met Emilia’s parents once and can’t say you care to repeat the experience. If billionaires were ranked on a scale of questionable to terrible, the Astors would fall towards the latter.

Part of what you agreed to this week though, was putting up a façade, so you nod.

“Yep,” you agree. “I have a dress, don’t worry.”

Seokjin watches you over the rim of his glasses. “Okay. I think I’ll get ready in the room next door so we can both shower. Does that work?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He seems to wait for something and, when that doesn’t come, he exhales and looks down. Sinking deeper into the couch, you stare at your laptop. The party starts at seven, but you need to get ready before then.

With a heavy sigh, you shut the screen. “I’m going to head up now,” you announce.

Seokjin nods without looking, and you exit the library. Outside in the hall, you hover before heading upstairs.

Cranking the heat up on the shower, you step inside and stare at the brightly tiled wall. Even the bathrooms here are beyond your pay grade. When you worked in consulting, you made good money, but nothing like this. This much money only comes from generational wealth, and while your parents were middle-class workers, billionaires they are not.

Possibly this weighs heavier on you than usual due to tonight’s guest list. You haven’t been in a room with these people in nearly a year. Not since you quit your job and started pulling away. The idea of pretending to be with Seokjin and pretending to fit in with the upper crust makes you want to scream.

With a sigh, you turn the heat higher. And then… there’s the fact that Seokjin broke up with Emilia.

You’ve been trying not to overthink this since Monday. Still, the memory beckons, and you dive in again. Turning it over and over, you pick at it like a scab until it starts to bleed.

At that moment, you didn’t pay attention to Seokjin’s face, but now, the memory haunts you. He seemed beseeching, as though there had been more to his words. Each time you try to think what, though, self-preservation kicks in. You two have been friends for twenty years and nothing has happened.

It seems foolish to think something could happen now. This was the entire reason you pulled away in the first place. If Seokjin ever felt more than friendship, he should have told you. He would have told you. If there’s one thing you know about your best friend, it’s that he goes after what he wants.

When he wanted to pursue academia, he did. When he decided to start running, he began the next day. One time, Seokjin terminated his lease and moved the week following into an apartment that opened above his favorite coffee shop.

He would have told you if he cared.

Despite this, you can’t remove the small seed of doubt. The way Seokjin looked at you Monday continues to replay in your mind, wedging a crack in the friend façade.

Turning the knob on the shower, you linger another long moment. It took nearly twenty years to admit your feelings for Seokjin. What if he’s been experiencing the same thing?

The thought stays while you dress, mechanically fixing your hair and make-up. Glancing at your phone, you realize the time is nearly seven and swear, hurrying into the bedroom to grab your outfit. The staff took it the first night, steaming it and ironing wrinkles from silk.

Placing it on the bed, you dig out your heels and search for your bra. “Fuck,” you hiss, realizing you forgot your strapless at home. You’ll have to go without. Stepping into the fabric, you shimmy this upward and pull on the zipper – and it sticks. “Fuck, shit, fuck.”

Someone knocks on the door.

“Hang on!” you yell, hopping to gain better leverage. Desperate, you tug harder, but nothing budges. “Crap!”

“Are you okay in there?” Seokjin calls through the door. “It sounds like you’re tap dancing, and Y/N, I’ve seen you dance. No need to add metal.”

“I’m a – ugh – great dancer!”

“Of course, you are. Can I help with something?”

“No, no – well,” you sigh, coming to a stop. “Yes. Come in?”

The handle turns, and Seokjin slips inside to shut the door. Glancing at him, your brain short circuits. Seokjin is wearing a suit. Logically, you knew he would dress up but seeing it in person is an entirely different matter.

The dark, three-piece suit fits his body in a way that’s obscene. It takes everything in you not to blurt something stupid like, what the fuck – or – hey, let’s skip this party and make out on the bed.

Seokjin turns and stops in his tracks when he sees you. His expression shifts from concern to – well, something different. Slowly, agonizingly, his gaze drags down your body.

“You…” Seokjin croaks. He shakes his head. “What did you need help with?”

For a moment, you don’t remember. Clutching the dress, you ensure nothing is visible, but something about him still leaves you bare.

“The zipper,” you blurt out. “It’s stuck.”

A beat passes between when you turn, and Seokjin walks closer. Delicate straps hold up the silken sheath of the dress. You don’t typically show this much skin, but evening dresses are made to show off.

His fingers brush warm skin before he pulls back. “Sorry,” Seokjin murmurs, then grips the zipper.

You can’t help but shiver and know he must see when Seokjin clears his throat. Continuing to clutch the dress, you focus on the wall. After a moment, Seokjin curls a hand over your hip to brace himself and tug upwards. The zipper catches, then glides all the way to the top. Still, he doesn’t move.

If anything, his grip on you tightens. A beat passes, then another, and your heart starts to race. The space between you feels so small, either of you could close it with a single step – and yet, neither of you does.

The moment is broken by a knock at the door.

Seokjin coughs and withdraws, his warmth gone in an instant. You shakily exhale, taking a moment before turning around.

“Hey,” Seohyun calls from the hall. “Mom is asking where you are. Wanted to let you know before she sends staff upstairs! Get decent and come down.”

You only move once her footsteps recede. Briskly crossing the room, you grab your heels and slip them on. “Ready,” you declare.

Seokjin watches you, inscrutable from beside the door.

Everyone always says Seokjin is the expressive one. And in some ways, he is. He wears his optimism like armor, making others laugh to detract from discomfort. Most people only know him this way. Few know him as well as you do and can tell something’s wrong in this sudden silence.

Before you can ask what is wrong though, he holds out an arm. “You look beautiful,” Seokjin says, folding your arm around his. “Before we go down and deal with all… this.” He pauses. “I just want you to know that.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself.”  While you mean it to sound joking, the words come out solemn.

Seokjin holds your gaze a second longer than necessary, then nods and leads you to the door. You head down the main stairs – according to the itinerary, the party starts in the main hall. Indeed, once you reach the bottom, you’re greeted by a wait staff with a tray of champagne.

You accept a tall flute, noticing heads already turning. Mr. and Mrs. Kim spot you from across the room, beaming with their own glasses. They’re the only ones that seem happy to see you. Seohyun is grimacing, conversing with Mr. Goldenrod, and Emilia speaks quietly in a corner with strangers.

Grabbing a quiche from a tray, Seokjin stuffs this in his mouth. “Eat up,” he says over the string quartet. “Who knows if they plan on serving dinner?”

You laugh, clutching his arm when he leads you towards the nearest couple. An older man with salt-and-pepper hair, a slight paunch and his young, blonde wife.

“Mr. Brown,” Seokjin says, shaking hands. “Thank you for coming. Have you met my girlfriend, Y/N?”

Mr. Brown nods, barely sparing you a second glance. “Ah, yes. I heard you were dating someone new.”

When he ends the sentence, Seokjin’s face tightens. “Not new. Y/N has been a friend of the family for years.”

“Lovely.” Mrs. Brown jumps in, her smile saccharine. “Are the Astors here tonight?”

When a muscle tics in Seokjin’s jaw, you step in.

“No, they’re not.” Your smile is sweet enough to match hers. “But we’ve been enjoying spending time with Emilia this week. Are you close friends of the Kim family?”

“Well, we –”

“We’re neighbors,” adds his wife.

“Oh, yes.” Seokjin frowns, the very image of faux concern. “Wasn’t there a whole incident with the gazebo last year? Something about your builder crossing property lines?”

Mr. Brown’s face turns a bit purple. “That was – that’s not –”

“Of course, my mistake. Enjoy the party,” Seokjin says, taking your hand in his. Your stomach flips at the contact, although you play it cool. Once you’re out of earshot, his expression sours. “What I wouldn’t give to be back in the library. I don’t know how Jaesuk does this type of thing.”

“Why did your parents invite them?”

“Oh, you know. Politics.” Seokjin frowns. “My mom needs funding for her latest project downtown. She wants to subsidize housing in rapidly gentrifying neighborhoods for families that have lived there for more than twenty years. Obviously, it’s not popular amongst real estate moguls.”

“Ah,” you say, and take a sip of champagne.

Seokjin exhales and faces the foyer. Black and white tile stretches from here to the windows, where the sun is beginning to set over the lake. It would be beautiful if it were only you here, but the reality of this evening stretches before you. The itinerary listed at least twenty names – nothing compared to Saturday, which will host one hundred – but more than the cozy oblivion you’ve had until now.

Near the fireplace, Seohyun, Jaesuk and Emilia chat with several people who look close to your age. Seeing them, Seokjin raises an eyebrow.

“That’s a surprise,” he murmurs. “Seohyun and Emilia. Your doing, I assume?”

You take another sip. “Who, me? Maybe you finally got through to your sister.”

“Unlikely.” Seokjin nicks a cocktail from a passing tray. “Seohyun has ignored me since she was five. Jaesuk used to be the only one who could reach her.”

His use of the phrase used to be hangs between you, reminding things are different since Seokjin and Emilia. Their entire family dynamic has been uprooted. Lifting the glass, you finish off your champagne.

Seokjin begins walking, and you follow. “How… did he tell you?” you ask.

“How did Jaesuk tell me about him and Emilia? He told me in person. It was very considerate of him. In February.”

You look at him, surprised. “I thought they didn’t tell you until March?”

Seokjin nods. “That was after they started dating – when they knew things were serious. Jaesuk came to me in February though, before he asked her out. He wanted to get my side of the story, to understand what all happened – all he’d heard was Emilia’s version.”

“Emilia’s version?”

“Yeah.” He pauses at the window. “Partly my fault. I broke up with Emilia the week after my birthday. There were a lot of holiday events with both our families invited and I… well, I asked Jaesuk to go in my place.” Seokjin frowns. “At first, he was standoffish to her. He didn’t know the full picture, but he knew I was hurting, and then… I don’t know. They started talking.”

“He should never have done that,” you say sharply, surprised by how tightly you’re gripping the stem.

Gently, Seokjin reaches over to take your empty glass. “To be fair, there are usually only a handful of attendees at these things under forty.”

“Seokjin.”

“Y/N.” Fondly, he mocks the tone. “I know. I was mad at first, also. But then…” Seokjin sighs, and something about him seems tired. “I told him the truth. I wasn’t in love with Emilia. He asked if I minded if he asked her out.”

You can’t help but bristle. “You shouldn’t have had to respond to that.”

“Maybe not.”

“Not maybe,” you insist, lowering your voice to move closer. Seokjin watches you carefully. “Seokjin, I know you look up to Jaesuk. I know you feel… I don’t know, indebted to him? That’s the wrong word. He took over the Kim family empire and left you free to do what you wanted. But just because Jaesuk made that decision doesn’t mean you need to pay him back.”

His expression softens. “You see right through me, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches, hearing the break in his voice. Setting aside your drinks, Seokjin takes a step closer.

“You’re right,” he murmurs. “Really. And I know this. I won’t say… I mean, I do feel guilty about Emilia. I dated her for a year before realizing what I wanted. I feel guilty about Jaesuk paving the way for Seohyun and I to do what we wanted. But… if I had any real problem with any of this, I promise I’d say so. Do you believe me?”

You stare him down until eventually realizing Seokjin is serious. “Fine. I believe you,” you exhale, poking him in the chest. “You must be a better person than I am.”

Chuckling, he grasps your finger and pulls you close. “Disagree,” Seokjin says before turning around.

Casually, the two of you drift towards the fireplace. Considering his newest revelation, you can’t help the nagging feeling you’ve missing something important. Suddenly, you realize.

“Seokjin,” you say slowly. “If that’s true, and you’re fine… then why did you ask me to come here this week?”

He seems to miss his next step. Seokjin’s eyes dart around the room, assessing, but his hand tightens in yours.

“Seokjin!” Mrs. Kim interrupts, gliding into his side. She grasps her son’s arm. “Thank goodness. I need your help. Mr. Hoang has technical questions about the program. Can you talk to him for a few minutes?”

Seokjin hesitates, and you see indecision war across his features.

“Go,” you say, patting his arm. “It’s fine – I need another drink, anyways.”

Although he seems dubious, Seokjin nods. His mom thanks you profusely as he bends, brushing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be right back,” Seokjin promises.

The warmth lingers on your skin after he leaves. You don’t recognize anyone around you, so you make good on your word, and head towards the bar. Mrs. Kim has set up a drink station near the dining room, arranged on an antique bar cart with black lacquer.

Ordering another glass of champagne, you drum your fingers on the counter. Taking a long look at your face, the bartender pours longer than usual.

“You look like you need it,” he chuckles, sliding it towards you.

You grant him a smile. “You’re not wrong.”

Steeling yourself, you wade into the crowd. Part of the reason Seokjin brought you was as a buffer, to deflect from the talk of Emilia and his brother. Spotting a group near the bookshelves, you head in their direction. Some of them you recognize from past parties, and you join with champagne in hand as the conversation shifts.

“Oh, good,” says a woman – Mrs. Hurst, you think? – with a smile. “Another woman to save me from endless golf talk. Unless you play,” she hastens. “In which case, you’re in good company.”

“I don’t play often,” you confide with a smile. Years of corporate mixers have prepared you for this. “You can commiserate safely.”

 “The hint’s been dropped, boys,” booms a man with red cheeks. “Let’s move on to more interesting topics.”

“Such as?” asks the man beside him.

Mrs. Hurst leans forward. “Have any of you attended the theatre recently? Or the symphony? Henry and I attended a performance last month featuring that lovely, young violinist. Oh, what was her name? I always pronounce it wrong.”

“Midori,” supplies the first man.

“Yes!” she gasps. “Oh, she was exquisite. But you know, it’s no surprise. People like her are just better at the violin, aren’t they?”

Your smile tightens. “People like who?”

“Oh, you know.” Aimless, she waves and takes a sip of her drink.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” you say, wide-eyed. “Could you explain the reference?”

The rest of the circle shifts uncomfortably. A man coughs and looks down; the other man pulls out his phone, leaving Mrs. Hurst to fend for herself. She seems sufficiently flustered until you give in and change the topic.

“I’ve been to the theatre recently,” you offer. “Have any of you seen Titanique?” you add, referencing the parody musical.

Blank stares greet you.

“No,” Mrs. Hurst says carefully. “I can’t say that I have. But I’m sure it’s an… experience.”

“Where do you work, Y/N?” asks one man, putting down his phone. His expression has hardened, and you know your comments have revealed you to be an outsider.

“At a coffee shop in the city. I worked in consulting until about a year ago, then quit to work on my novel full time.”

The other man perks up. “Which consulting company?” When you offer the name, he vigorously nods. “I know the CEO! Kevin,” he says to the other man. “Terrible golf game ever since his wife left, but who can blame him? She took half of everything he owned since the idiot agreed to no prenup. Always get the prenup,” he says sternly in your direction.

Unconcerned, you nod.

Mrs. Hurst continues to watch you. “What kind of book are you writing, dear?”

The infantilization in the word ‘dear’ makes you stiffen, but you do your best not to react. People tend to assume you’ve suffered a breakdown when you tell them about your abrupt career change. As though realizing corporate life sucks is a symptom of a broader illness.

“Fantasy.”

Politely, she nods. “How exciting.”

“Kevin’s the one who was living a fantasy,” grumbles the other man, “if he thought his wife wouldn’t take him to the cleaners after that prostitute in Munich. Or was it Rome?”

Conversation reverts to Kevin and his divorce, and once your glass is drained, you excuse yourself for another. No one seems to mind or notice as you walk away.

Another glass of champagne is pressed into your hand at the bar, and you drain half on the spot. Turning around, you make eye contact with Seohyun, who waves you over to her smaller group.

When you reach her, she clinks her glass with yours. “I might have to start double fisting,” she mutters. “Each person I talk to is worse than the last.”

“Tell me about it. I just escaped a conversation about violinists, prenups, and prostitutes.”

Seohyun perks up. “Okay, that sounds way more interesting than the conversation I had about Bitcoin.”

“Oh, god.”

You both laugh until a woman breaks from the circle. “What are you gals talking about?” she simpers.

The circle expands to include you, and suddenly you find yourself faced with several similar-looking women. Swiftly, you rack your brains for appropriate conversation.

Managing a smile, you tip your head towards your glass. “We were debating whether champagne has become overrated. A lot of sparkling wine regions are vastly overlooked.”

A thin, redheaded woman places a hand to her throat. “Oh, no. None of them have the same history as champagne. You can’t overlook that often a person pays as much for the label as for the product.”

She’s not wrong, but you feel inclined to point out that many other regions have history in winemaking, as well.

A stout woman nods. “Too true, Beth,” she chortles. “Champagne is incomparable.”

Beth sniffs and looks you over. “Is the cuvée not to your liking…”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I often find when I’m not familiar with a region, it’s harder to discern its true quality.”

Another woman – thin and brunette – turns to hide a laugh in her palm. You pause, hearing exactly what Beth intended. Essentially, she called you poor by saying champagne wasn’t something you had often, insinuating it was beyond your price range.

Seohyun hears this as well, glaring daggers at Beth. “Y/N is right. I have my sommelier license, and a lot of champagnes – especially those from big houses,” she adds, and you feel like you missed something earlier, “are vastly overrated. You get a worse product for a higher cost.”

“Oh, dear.” Beth’s tone becomes pitying. “I’m afraid I only know what my sommelier tells me. I haven’t the time to take, ah, classes. I’ll have to take your word for it.”

God, you hate these parties. In their world, getting an education or having interests is somehow an insult.

Seohyun bristles, but you place a hand on her arm. “Well, it seems the debate has been settled,” you say, taking her empty glass. “I’ll have to taste more to become a true expert. Excuse me, ladies.”

Tossing them a bland smile, you head for the bar. After three glasses of champagne, you feel a bit buzzed, but if you pace yourself from now on, things should be fine. Playing on your phone, you wait for the bartender to finish and then, a new drink in hand, you scan the room again.

Mrs. Hurst has joined the group you just left, so that’s out. A group of men in the corner is also low on your list – unless you want to discuss golf or prenups again. While you stand there, deciding, a throat clears itself to the side.

“Enjoying the party?”

Hoping for someone bearable, you turn and are immediately disappointed.

Bradley Wainright lounges against the wood paneling, his hair disheveled and suit vest only half-buttoned. You remember him from childhood, and not fondly. He attended a neighboring private school but ran in the same circle as Seokjin’s family. Bradley is the type of guy who uses his trust fund to get himself out of messes rather than help other people.

Seokjin never liked him – in fact, he hated Bradley with a passion you never quite understood. Sure, Bradley was an ass, but so were a lot of people. All you know was Bradley did something to him in high school that took them from neutral to enemies. If Bradley is here tonight, he’s likely up to no good.

“Pass,” you mutter as you turn around.

Bradley chuckles and pushes himself from the wall. “Is that any way to greet a former classmate?”

“We didn’t go to the same school, Bradley. Ergo, not classmates.”

Stopping before you, his gaze drops to your cleavage. Fighting the urge to cross your arms, you take a long sip of your drink.

“Ah, yes,” he says, looking up. “You went to public school. My, how you’ve risen, Y/N.”

Choosing to ignore him, you look around the room. Bradley continues to nurse his whiskey, not looking away. Eventually, you give in.

“Clearly not that high,” you mutter, draining your glass. “If I’m standing here talking to you.”

Softly, he laughs. “You always were smart. Too smart to be wasting your time with Seokjin. I told him as much once, you know.”

You should know better than listening to anything Bradley says, but this piques your interest.

“What do you mean?”

Plucking a glass from a passing tray, Bradley exchanges your empty champagne for full. “Oh, you know. I wanted to ask you out in high school, but Seokjin told me to get lost. He didn’t think I was ‘good enough’ for you,” he drawls with air quotes. “Although now I suppose his true intentions are clear.”

You can only stare at him, mind reeling from more than the alcohol.

Noticing this, Bradley pauses. Genuine curiosity shines in his gaze. “Did Seokjin never tell you? Odd,” he comments, sipping again. “I would have assumed it came up at some point.”

“No. No… it never did.”

Bradley nods before his expression sharpens. “Word to the wise, then, Y/N – be careful. Playing in these circles is hard enough with the money, with the bloodline. Just ask Emilia. This group is downright ruthless when a stranger swoops in and takes something the elite views as theirs.”

Uncertainty churns your stomach. “And by something… you mean Seokjin?”

He merely shrugs.

Realizing you’re strangling your glass, you ease off the stem. The room around you feels blurry, the result of five – or was it six? – glasses of good champagne. It loosens your tongue, your next words spilling out.

“Why am I even listening to you? You hate Seokjin.”

Bored, Bradley swirls his whiskey. “True. I can’t say my motives are pure.” His canines flash when he smiles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not right.”

You search for a response and when nothing comes, he chuckles again.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” His cologne drifts past when he leaves. “Tell Seokjin I say hello.”

Left standing alone, you stare at a painting on the wall that must weigh more than you. A floor to ceiling recreation of a famous Monet. Stomach swooping, you examine the paint pattern – it may be the Monet. Feeling vaguely ill, you drain the rest of your glass and hand it to the nearest waiter.

Striding away, you stumble and realize you might be past your limit. The notion seems dull, far away, and you easily push it aside. Every conversation from this evening blurs into one, echoing one another as you order another drink.

Often a person pays as much for the label as for the product. Playing in these circles is hard enough with the money, with the bloodline.

Lifting the champagne, the room spins, and you immediately set it back down. “Fuck,” you mutter, gripping the edge of a table.

A man nearby notices, turning to his companion to mutter something in his ear. They both laugh and leave, and you scowl hard at their backs. The hypocrisy is ridiculous. Most of the people here are either drunk or high, and they have the audacity to look appalled when you imbibe a little.

“I wouldn’t say appalled,” Seokjin says, appearing at your elbow. He smirks, and you realize you’ve spoken out loud. “Maybe a little morally superior – or vindicated, depending on the person in question. You’ve made quite the splash tonight.”

 You do your best to turn sideways but somehow trip over your own shoe. Smashing into Seokjin’s chest, a soft oof leaves your lips.

Obedient, he wraps both arms around you. “I didn’t know you wanted to dance this badly,” Seokjin murmurs in your ear.

Throwing your head back, you squint. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

“No,” you grumble. “You’re supposed to stay here longer.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Not true. I came, I chatted, and I convinced several families to donate to my mother’s causes. The dance floor has started – albeit on the other side of the room – and my duties are done. Let’s go.”

“Your duties,” you groan, laying your head on his chest. “You have sooo many duties.”

He hums. “Right now, my only duty is getting you into bed.”

“I wish.”

Seokjin stills, and you feel his heart stutter. He restarts after a moment, palms sliding to your elbows. “You’re drunk,” he says, tugging you onward. “Come on.”

You follow him reluctantly, taking his hand in yours. Vaguely, you see heads turn in your direction but can’t bring yourself to care. Seokjin makes it to the foyer before he bends abruptly and scoops you into his arms.

You squeak, arms wrapping tightly around him. Head resting on his shoulder, you examine his profile while he walks upstairs.

Deeply, you inhale. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.”

“Like, you always smell good. Do you wear cologne on top of the body wash? Or is that a super-secret super-special scent only rich people know?”

Seokjin chuckles, the sound vibrating your chest. “Yeah, that’s it. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“Might be worth it.”

He laughs, louder this time. “You got me, Y/N. I’ll show you the bottle when we get to our room.”

Contented, you hum. Mid-nuzzle into his neck – Seokjin has stiffened beneath you – you realize something and pause.

“Oh no,” you blurt, looking up. “Put me down!”

Seokjin fumbles, one foot over the threshold. “Why? Do you have to pee? Is this spring break 2014 all over again?”

“No, and for the last time, I didn’t pee in that bar! Someone spilled their drink on me.”

“Down the inside of your pant leg?”

“Yes.”

Seokjin chuckles. “Okay, fine. Why are we stopping now?”

Wide-eyed, you watch the corner of his jaw. “You shouldn’t be doing this. Helping me.”

He pauses, then cocks his head. “Why not?”

“Because,” you whisper, “we’re alone.”

“And?”

“No one’s around to see!”

His brows sketch upwards. “So, someone has to be around for me to help you? Sounds like a shitty friendship.”

“No… but… this is more than what friends do.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Let me help you, Y/N.”

Miserably, you nod.

“Besides. If I thought this was too much, I would say so. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.

He would have told you if your actions were over the line. He would have told you if the situation with Emilia was painful. Over and over, Seokjin keeps insisting he’ll tell you when there’s something important. Again, making it highly unlikely he’s harboring any secret feelings.

Your disappointment must be etched over your face, since Seokjin notices and frowns. His grip on you tightens when he enters the room and kicks shut the door. Not breaking stride, he crosses the room to set you on the sofa.

“Stay,” he says, as though you were a dog. Chuckling to himself, Seokjin walks into the bathroom. Minutes pass before he emerges – during that time, you might drift off a little. “Okay,” he announces, emerging from the bathroom. “I started the shower. Can you stand by yourself?”

“Of course!” you huff. Seokjin stares at you long enough that you wilt. “Maybe… you might have to unzip me.”

He hesitates, then nods and takes a step closer. Rising to face the window, you brace your hands on the sill. Seokjin steps behind you, brushing baby hairs from your neck as you fight back a shiver. His fingers drift lower, grasping the zipper to drag slowly down.

For the second time tonight, you find yourself clutching the dress to your front. Inch by inch, your back is bared, leaving you dizzy from more than champagne.

“Done,” he rasps.

Quickly, you nod and flee to the bathroom. You don’t dare look back at him, and once the door is shut, sag against the counter. Dropping the dress, you step under the spray before you can think. Overthinking is bad. Overthinking leads to why you drank so much and got yourself into this mess.

Body dry and face washed, you hover at the door with a towel wrapped around you. Eventually, you push it open a crack.

“Seokjin?”

Through the crevice, you see Seokjin seated on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. His tie has disappeared, and his shoes are arranged neatly beside the closet door.

His head snaps up. “Yes?”

“I… need pajamas.”

“Oh.” Seokjin has clearly been running his hands through his hair. “Right, yeah.”

Awkwardly, he rises and heads for the wardrobe. Pulling out a t-shirt and boxers, he crosses the room. “Do these work?”

“Yep. Thanks,” you blurt, snatching them quickly and shutting the door.

With a barrier between you, it’s easier to piece the night together. Seohyun, champagne, Mrs. Hurst, more champagne, Bradley Wainright – you stop trying after that.

Tugging on the t-shirt, you realize it belongs to Seokjin. The shirt smells like him, clean fabric and a spicy, peppery scent. Inhaling deeply, you remember you did this in the hall and nearly groan out loud.

When you re-emerge, Seokjin stands next to the sofa. He’s changed into pajamas, much to your disappointment.

Before you can say anything, he gestures at the nightstand. “Drink the water before bed, okay?”

Nodding, you avoid eye contact as you slip past. Sliding between the sheets, you squeeze your eyes shut to block out the way the room spins. You shouldn’t have let those people get under your skin. Despite what they all said, the only person who matters to you is Seokjin.

Speaking of whom – cracking open one eye, you watch him remove a decorative pillow and ready the couch for bed. Seokjin adds a blanket while you watch from the covers.

“Are you… are you really going to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He pauses, then straightens. “I was planning to, yeah.”

“Oh. Okay.”

A bemused smile. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” You swallow. “I was just thinking… it’s silly. We’re both adults, right? We can share a bed without it being weird.”

Seokjin watches you intently. He remains silent for so long you begin to wonder if you said anything at all. Maybe you drank so much you entered an alternate reality where you never made a fool out of yourself, never asked Seokjin to share a bed, and he never rejected the prospect.

That would be nice.

“Alright,” he says, and your brain short-circuits.

“Wait, what?”

Seokjin freezes one step away from the mattress. “Are you retracting the offer?”

“No, but – I’m not still drunk, right? You did just say yes?”

Lips twitching, he pulls back the covers. “Those are two different questions. Yes, you are still drunk. Yes, I said yes. Like you said, it’s not weird – right?”

Unable to answer the question without giving yourself away, you stay silent while he lowers his weight to the mattress. The divot from his weight forces you to cling to the edge so you don’t roll inward. Switching the light off, Seokjin rolls over to settle his head on the pillow. It takes several moments for your eyes to adjust, and once they do, you find Seokjin watching.

“Right,” you whisper, answering his question.

His smile curves upward. “Why are you whispering?”

“It’s nighttime.”

“Oh, right,” Seokjin whispers back. “Should I tell a scary story, or something?”

“No need. I have the perfect one. Did you hear that Kevin didn’t sign a prenup and now, his ex-wife is taking half of everything in their divorce?”

Seokjin mock-shivers. “A modern-day Poe tale.”

“Oh, I heard worse things,” you murmur. “Apparently, you’re someone else’s villain.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised. Who did I terrorize this time?”

“Bradley Wainright. He said he liked me in high school, but you forbade him from asking me out.” Unbidden, a giggle escapes. “Can you imagine? Forbade. Like you were my chaperone or something, and I was an unruly debutante.”

“That’s…”

Seokjin struggles to respond, and you stop talking, wide-eyed. Some of your earlier buzz has faded, allowing you to think clearly. “Wait,” you say slowly. “Is it true?”

A flush creeps up his ears. “Kind of.”

“What do you mean, kind of?”

Seokjin groans and rolls onto his back. “Bradley was an ass in high school. He kept a list of people whose virginity he’d taken taped in his locker. So yeah, when he said he wanted to ask you out, I told him not to.”

You stare at his profile, limned in moonlight. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know.” Seokjin sighs. “I know you can make your own choices. I was just a stupid kid back then.”

“No – well, yeah. You were. But even if Bradley had asked me out, I would’ve said no. I hated him then. Still don’t like him much now.”

Seokjin smiles at the ceiling and places his arms at his sides. “Well, consider yourself in good company.”

“Oh my god, no.”

“What?” Seokjin looks over, alarmed.

“You are not sleeping like a fucking vampire beside me.”

His eyes widen. “I was trying to be polite! If I sleep on my back, I won’t roll around as much.”

“I am telling you right now – I will go downstairs and ask Bradley to take me to his hotel if you don’t sleep like a normal person.”

“What, like this?” He folds both arms over his chest in an x. “Is this how normal people sleep?”

“Seokjin!” Reaching over, you tug his arm down. “Stop!”

“Oh nooo,” he groans, half-rising from the mattress. “I feel the dark forces upon me!”

“NO!” Laughing, you throw yourself sideways. Dragging him down to the mattress, you helplessly giggle.

Seokjin’s entire body shakes with laughter while wrestling your arm from his body. Somehow your hand winds up beneath him, one of your thighs flung over his leg. Seokjin falls back, his chest rising and falling. You’re suddenly aware of every dimple, laugh line and mole on his face.

Slowly, his laughter fades. Seokjin reaches between you to brush his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Eyelash,” he murmurs.

“Make a wish.”

Your voice doesn’t sound like you – too breathy. Too soft. Seokjin doesn’t seem to notice, his gaze again on your lips. Heart hammering, you think he might close the distance until his face shifts, and Seokjin pulls back. Gently, you tug your hand free to tuck it against you like armor.

“Well,” Seokjin says quietly. He searches your features. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Seokjin.”

Rolling onto your side, you stare into the darkness while he shifts behind you. Eventually, his breathing evens and you assume Seokjin sleeps. You, on the other hand, stay awake for much longer.

Even when you do sleep, your dreams are full of hedge mazes, running towards a nameless something which moves further and further away.

At some point in the night, you become a cover hog. Your first thought the next morning is how pleasantly warm it’s become within the confines of your sheets. Arching a little, you wriggle backwards – only to freeze when your ass hits something hard.

Your eyes open.

The surrounding warmth isn’t the covers as you imagined, but a toned arm. The weight at your back isn’t a pillow, but a heavy, male body – Seokjin’s heavy, male body. Realizing this, heat floods your core, and you go utterly still within the confines of his grasp.

He must be asleep, since he squeezes you tighter and nuzzles his face in your neck. Breath held, you nearly melt when you realize your t-shirt has ridden up your belly. Seokjin’s thumb absently strokes your bare skin, coming dangerously close to the top of your panties.

With how close you are, your ass is pressed to his front. He must be asleep, because there’s no other way this could go on for so long. Quietly, you attempt to dislodge only to make matters worse. His hand cups you closer, and you find yourself sinking back into his chest.

Murmuring your name, his hand drifts even lower and you give up entirely. Seokjin’s fingers brush your shorts, then your panties and a soft whimper escapes you. For years, you’ve wondered what this would be like. For years, you’ve repressed the tiny voice in your mind wanting more, but now it roars back, voracious.

Casually, you push your ass backwards, inhaling when you feel his stiff member behind you. Seokjin is large. You suspected as much but had lasted until now with plausible deniability. Now though, you’ll be forced to imagine his size with complete accuracy and can only assume the effect will be devastating.

Seokjin groans, shifting closer – and freezes. Several moments pass until he clears his throat.

“… Y/N?”

Cursing internally, you say, “Morning.”

Lightning-fast, he rolls over and yanks his hand away. “Fuck,” Seokjin wheezes. “I’m – I’m so sorry, Y/N. That was just... my body just…”

Turning to face him, you see he’s buried his face in his hands. Cheeks hot, you realize what he’s referring to. “It’s fine,” you assure him. “I have slept with men before. I mean, I’ve woken up next to them. I mean, I’ve also had sex, but –” Cutting yourself off, you shake your head. “That’s not relevant, I guess.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch. “I’m not usually this… clingy.”

You snort.

Dropping his hands, he scowls in mock-outrage. “I’m not!”

“Seokjin. I’m friends with your sister. She told me all the horror stories of you sharing beds on vacation.”

The tips of his ears redden. “I can assure you that this” – Seokjin waves to his lower half – “never occurred with my sister.”

“Well, I should hope not.”

“Y/N,” he groans, dropping his hand to stare at the ceiling. “Can we just forget this ever happened?”

A beat passes, then two.

Stomach sinking, you nod. “Sure. Right.”

Hearing your tone, Seokjin rolls over to face you. His gaze is intent. “I’m saying this because I’m embarrassed, Y/N. I basically groped you in my sleep.”

“Groping is a little extreme.”

“Just… let me bask in my embarrassment in silence.”

Right. Of course. Because touching you is embarrassing.

Shoving away the barrage of emotions this brings, you push back the covers. Still not meeting his gaze, you swing your feet to the floor. On most days, you’d be able to deal with his jokes. Not today. Irritation pinches the longer you lay here.

“Don’t bask too long,” you say, heading for the bathroom. “Tomorrow is the big night. I’m sure your parents have plans for today.”

Your head pounds at the door, forcing you to remember the events of last night. Wincing a little, you turn and find Seokjin watching. His expression seems hesitant, almost wary.

“Are there painkillers in the bathroom? And, uh, water?”

He nods. “First drawer on the right.”

“Thanks,” you say and walk inside.

Every inch of frustration goes into your lather. Scrubbing suds from your body, you imagine you’re removing each trace of Seokjin. This is your own fault – for reading into his actions, for believing him when he says nothing, for seeing something real that just doesn’t exist.

You knew this when you accepted his offer. You knew being this close to Seokjin would raise feelings, and yet, you told yourself it wouldn’t matter. That you didn’t care.

You lied, obviously. And now you’re paying the price.

For a moment, you stop and simply concentrate on breathing. Every emotion from the past week washes over you, again and again. No matter what you do, you can’t win. Seokjin is your friend. You should be there for him. You know this and yet, it’s impossible to hide your true feelings.

Outside of the shower, your phone rings.

Hastily, you finish washing and turn off the water. Stepping onto the bathmat, you wrap yourself in a towel and scoop your phone from the counter. A missed call from Jimin. Seeing this, you press redial.

“Hello?” you ask, wondering if the house is on fire.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Jimin tsks. “What have you done?”

Blinking, you turn and rest your ass on the counter. “What do you mean? Why are you calling?”

Jimin snort-laughs. “Y/N. Do you not remember texting last night?”

Frantic, you lower your phone and open your recent texts. Several threads rise to the top, the one with Jimin first and foremost. Scanning the messages, you groan.

“Jiiiiimin. Seokjin wore a suit tonight. I’m gonna combust. Also, rich people suck,” Jimin reads, pausing for effect. “But champagne is yummy. You know who else is yummy? Seokjin. He looks soooo –”

“Okay, okay,” you hiss, glancing at the door. “I get it.”

“Do you?” His tone is gleeful, and you imagine Jimin in his dress robe kicking up his feet. “The ten text messages you sent suggest otherwise.”

Sluggishly, you pilfer through your memories of last night. Closing the toilet cover, you collapse on the seat.

“I was inebriated,” you moan.

“I mean, clearly. The first five texts alone would’ve been a cry for help. Ten is just… sad.”

You slump against the wall. “It is sad, isn’t it?”

“You don’t want me to answer that. Where are you now?”

“Just got out of the shower.”

“Y/N, you dog!”

“Alone,” you hiss.

“Oh, that’s less fun. But seriously – is everything okay?”

You pause for a moment, glancing again at the door. Before you can decide either way, Jimin sighs.

“You like him a lot, don’t you?”

You close your eyes. “Mhm. You could say that.”

“For how long?”

You open one eye to peer at the wall. “We’ve been friends for twenty years. I guess… I don’t know. A part of me has always wanted more.”

Jimin hums but stays silent.

“I’ve tried to pull away a few times before now,” you confess, the words quiet. “Somehow, I keep going back. Last year I tried to stop being friends entirely. I got pretty close, too. But then…”

“He called.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, shit.”

You laugh, soft. “Yeah.”

A chair creaks in the background. “So why haven’t you told him how you feel?”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“If you like him, why haven’t you told him so?”

“Because,” you sputter. “We’re friends – best friends. If I tell him how I feel it would change things. What if he doesn’t like me back?”

“And… what if he does?”

“Even then.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “What if we date, then grow apart and break up? I’ll have ruined our friendship – and for what? My friendship with Seokjin is one of the most valuable things in my life. I’d be an idiot to mess that up.”

Jimin hums again, and you know he doesn’t agree.

“Fine,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Y/N, I’m going to tell you a story.”

“Oh, great.”

“Once upon a time, baby Jimin entered his freshman year of college.”

“I love a time jump.”

“Shhh. Anyways, baby Jimin entered college wanting to be pre-med.”

“Wait, really?” You straighten. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes. And stop interrupting. Anyways, I got two years into undergrad taking all the pre-req courses. I had straight A’s but… I wasn’t happy.”

Frowning, you play with a thread on your towel. “Really?”

“I kept convincing myself it was fine, you know? I wasn’t even in the field yet. The stuff I was learning was just framework – it would be different when I was actually practicing medicine. But I think I knew from the start it wasn’t right.”

“What did you do?”

“Changed my major junior year.” Jimin pauses. “The arts aren’t lucrative, per se, but I’ve never felt as relieved as I did leaving my advisor’s office.”

“Well, that’s good… how’s this supposed to apply to me?”

“I’m getting there. What helped me to switch was realizing I’d already reached my point of no return. I wasn’t happy in pre-med. My feelings had changed, and they wouldn’t go back. The only option I had was to make a new choice. A different one. I think that’s what you need to consider with Seokjin. Y/N – you have feelings for him. Your friendship has already changed. The question now is… what do you do?”

His words wash over you and for a moment, you have no response. Then you swallow. “Damn, Jimin. How dare you be rational and make sense?”

“It’s a curse, I know. I’m hot and smart.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that because your advice was actually… helpful.”

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. That’s all.”

Vision blurring, you blink back your tears. “You’re a good friend, Jimin. And you’re right,” you sigh. “I’m in love with Seokjin. I have been for a while. Which means… I guess a normal friendship is kind of out of the cards. Right?”

“You can probably answer that better than I can.”

You nod to yourself because yes, you can. You knew the answer before you came on this trip. Cast in that light, you realize you already made a decision last summer. When faced with being Seokjin’s friend and confessing your feelings, you chose a third option and decided to leave. Either way, the friendship you once had has ended.

Put in that light – what do you have to lose?

“Okay,” you sigh. “This was helpful. But I need to get dressed.”

“You’re talking to me naked?”

“You called me in the shower!”

“You could have gotten dressed!”

“I’m hanging up now,” you say, standing from the toilet. “Bye, Jimin. You’re the best. I’ll be home on Sunday.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re the best, too. Tell me all the details after you and Seokjin hook up.”

He hangs up in the middle of your panicked squawk, and you spend the next ten minutes recovering enough to exit. When you do leave the bathroom, you find the room empty. Seokjin has gone again.

It gives you time, though, to plan your next move because Jimin is right. You need to tell Seokjin how you feel and let the chips fall where they may. Granted, telling him before his parents’ anniversary party might not be the best call.

At the very least, you owe it to him to fulfill his last request as your friend. Until Sunday, you’ll be the best fake girlfriend Seokjin has ever had.

And then – well. Either way, then things will change.

Saturday arrives with little fanfare. Seokjin returns to the couch Friday night, and you don’t ask him why. Instead, you focus on writing more and trying not to be a bother. Mr. and Mrs. Kim are gone most of the day, answering various party-related questions from the staff.

The anniversary party is being held in a tent on the lawn behind the main house. Heaters are stationed around the brick patio, fairy lights strung above in a million constellations. Near sunset you find yourself ensconced in a dressing room with Seohyun and Emilia. The surprise of entering and finding Emilia present has lessened over the course of your glass of champagne – only one, this time.

Seated at the vanity, Seohyun struggles to put on her lashes. “I hate getting dressed up,” she moans. “You think next time I can wear a suit? Men’s formal wear is so much more comfortable.”

“Except for the tie,” says Emilia, fiddling with her zipper. “I bet your parents wouldn’t care either way.”

Turning around, you lift a brow. “Except for the tie, huh?”

Seohyun laughs when Emilia freezes, looking as though she’s been caught. “I may have dressed as Don Draper for Halloween one year,” she admits.

Hiding a smile, you duck into the bathroom. Your dress hangs from a hook on the door, steamed to perfection by the staff this morning. The dress code tonight is black tie, leaving you few options from your closet at home. Removing your dress from its hanger, you hold it up to the light.

Sleeveless with a v neckline, the A-line silhouette is fully covered in sequins. Tiny, bronze details that shimmer beneath the light. You’ve only worn it once – to a client fundraiser required by your former employer. It was way too expensive even then, but you broke the tag in the bathroom and were unable to return.

Seokjin attended that event, also. He went on behalf of his family, and you’ll never forget his face when you entered the ballroom. It was like he’d never seen you before.

Slipping your robe off, you step into your heels and buckle them. Next comes the dress, shimmied up your body and pulled over your shoulders. Although you twist and turn, the zipper remains where it is. Apparently, this is just your lot this weekend.

Cracking open the door, you look pleadingly out. “Help.”

Emilia laughs and motions for you to join them. When you do, both hers and Seohyun’s eyes widen.

“Wo-ow,” says Seohyun, standing to help. “I don’t usually feel bad for my brothers, but I feel bad for Seokjin tonight. He might just keel over.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you scoff, glancing down. “It’s just a dress.”

“No, Y/N,” Emilia says softly. “You really look amazing.”

Her words contain no trace of bitterness, and it strikes you that Emilia really does want Seokjin to be happy. Whether it’s from her own guilt or not, you suppose it doesn’t matter. Jaesuk and Emilia are good together, and in five, ten, twenty years – will anyone care how they got together?

(Well, probably – rich people tend to have long memories. But one thing you can be certain of is that in a matter of weeks, there will be another scandal and Emilia and Jaesuk will fade to distant memory.)

“Your dress is beautiful, too,” you say.

“Thanks.” Emilia frowns and pulls at the fabric. “My mom thinks I look best in blue. It’s just easier at this point not to fight.”

Seohyun grimaces. “Sorry to say it, but your mom is the worst.”

“Seohyun,” you hiss.

She blinks, unapologetic. “What?”

“No, she’s right.” Emilia shrugs. “I learned that lesson the hard way.”

She doesn’t seem hurt by this, so you figure the statement must reflect an old wound. Joining Seohyun by the mirror, you reapply lipstick.

“I get that,” you respond. “My parents are good people, but… they can be self-involved. During their divorce, it was like they forgot all about me and my sister. Ever since…” Exhaling lowly, you shake your head. “My older sister kind of thrives on her own. My mom always forgets to tell us where she is with her latest boyfriend. My dad is better, but I always have to call him.”

“Communication with purpose and without passive-aggressiveness,” muses Emilia. “What would that be like?”

 “Beats me.” You shrug.

A knock sounds at the door. “Open up!” Seokjin calls. “Your group has been selected to participate in a survey –”

Rolling her eyes, Seohyun yanks open the door. “Declined,” she says and sits down. “You can stay,” she clarifies to Jaesuk when he steps inside.

Jaesuk smiles and, upon noticing Emilia, nearly misses a step. For the first time, you watch his face when he sees her. He seems to be in awe, as though unable to believe his own luck. Right behind him, wearing a similar expression, is Seokjin.

His navy, double-breasted tuxedo is designed for heartbreak. Charcoal bow tie askew, his fingers hover just above, as though he were in the middle of fixing. Before he can move, you stand up and adjust it.

“There,” you murmur, brushing lint from his shoulder. “You look… really fucking good.”

You expect Seokjin to laugh or crack a joke but instead, his fingers slip beneath your chin. Gently, he tilts your face upward.

“You’re beautiful,” Seokjin murmurs.

So simple and yet, his words undo you. The sincerity in his voice drives another crack through reality, yet another life-fissure you can’t repair.

You realize his hands are still on your face, but Seokjin seems to neither notice nor care. Instead, he moves his thumb to skim the line of your jaw. When your lips part, his face darkens.

“Are you ready to go?” Seohyun stands at the door with her clutch. “Mom asked us to all be downstairs before guests arrive.”

“Yes, mom,” grumbles Jaesuk.

Emilia huffs and pushes him out the door with one hand. Seohyun follows close behind, leaving you alone with Seokjin. Before you can leave, Seokjin catches your hand.

“Hey,” he says, drawing you close. His fingers wrap around yours. “Before we head down there, I just…”

“Yes?”

His gaze sweeps your face. “Do you ever wonder… what would have happened if we’d met somewhere else?”

“Like, on the slide instead of the monkey bars?”

“No.” He smiles, only for it to vanish quickly. “Like, what if we had met during college? Or after?”

“Are you asking me if we would have been friends?”

“No. Maybe. I –” Exhaling roughly, Seokjin frowns.  “I don’t know what I’m asking.”

You tilt your head. “Are you feeling alright? Maybe we should –”

“Let’s go downstairs,” Seokjin interrupts. His expression clears and, still holding your hand, he tugs you away. “I’m fine, I swear.”

 “O-kay. If you’re sure. But if –”

“Y/N. Let’s go spend a horrible night celebrating my parents.”

You snort, following him to the hall and down the main stairs. Seokjin shifts your hand to his arm, so you don’t slip and fall. When you enter the backyard, you find Jaesuk and Emilia talking to Mr. Kim on the patio. The sun sinks beyond the lake, painting the water vivid orange and turquoise.

Beneath a banner congratulating the Kim’s on thirty-eight years of marriage sits a giant cake covered in frosted flowers. Photos rest on the table beside it, portraying their life together over the years. Music drifts from a band in the corner, a pianist easing their fingers over the keys.

“Canapé?” asks Seokjin, handing you a bacon-wrapped date.

“Gesundheit,” you say, popping this in your mouth.

Seokjin’s gaze lingers a little too long on your lips. Heat licks down your spine, but before you can speak, the music starts up.

“Oh, Y/N!” Mrs. Kim appears and squeezes your arm, not wanting to mess up your dress. “You look absolutely lovely. Seokjin,” she adds, frowning in his direction. “You treat her right; do you hear me?”

His gaze stays on your face. “I plan to.”

She moves to squeeze her son, as well. “What a good boy.”

Rushing away, she goes to check in with the caterer. Struggling to respond, you grab two fancy waters from a passing waiter. One thing you’re certain of is there will be no repeat of Thursday.

“So,” you say, passing a glass to Seokjin. “How many investors do you plan on snagging tonight?”

“That all depends.”

“On what?”

“On how many you dare me to snag.”

Your laugh is so sudden, you nearly snort your drink. Grabbing a napkin from a close table, you dab at your glass. “You can’t do that to me,” you complain.

Seokjin watches you, hiding his smile. “And why not?”

“As your girlfriend” – a deep wink – “it’s my job to impress partygoers, not make them wonder why you took me on.”

“Please.” Seokjin’s gaze flicks over your shoulder. “At least five different guys have ogled your ass while we’ve been standing here.”

Again, your drink is in peril of being spit out. Seokjin’s lips twitch when you glower, taking another step towards him. At the last second, your gaze snags on his tie – crooked again. Huffing gently, you fix it.

“I should have known I’d find you by the food.”

Glancing sideways, a familiar face makes you grin. “Taehyung!” you cry, breaking away to wrap him in a hug.

He squeezes tightly, enveloping you in Grand Soir cologne. Before the hug can end, you find yourself tugged away and into Seokjin’s side. He frowns at Taehyung over the top of your head.

Taehyung Kim is around Seohyun’s age and one of the few elites you can stand to be around. Unlike Seokjin, Taehyung is heir to his family’s company, but unlike Jaesuk, he’s committed to making himself the family villain. Every low-handed, devious corporate decision his father makes, Taehyung tries to reveal it. It’s gotten to the point where he’s persona non grata in most social circles – making it all the sweeter the Kim’s decided to invite him, regardless.

He also holds no relation to Seokjin’s family, which makes it even understandable that Emilia didn’t know who Jaesuk was. Taking a step back, Taehyung shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Long time no see, Y/N,” he says, then glances at Seokjin. “I see you finally got your head out of your ass long enough to ask Y/N out. Good for you.”

You roll your eyes, playing it off but inside, your heart races. The word finally makes it sound like everyone knew this was coming and anticipated the change. Little do they know everything about this is fake.

“Great talk, as always,” Seokjin says, although you know he doesn’t mean it.

“Hey, incoming,” Taehyung mutters. His gaze darkens at something – or someone – over your shoulder. “Bradley Wainright is headed straight for your sister.”

Seokjin twists. “Where do you –”

“On it,” says Taehyung, slipping into the crowd.

You watch him go, contemplative. “You know,” you muse. “Has Taehyung always been so protective of Seohyun?”

Seokjin blinks down at you. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he likes her.”

“Are you saying… friends can’t be protective?”

You shrug and take a sip of your drink. “I guess it depends.”

Seokjin gives you a strange look, but before you can process, Mr. Kim appears. “Seokjin,” he sighs, adjusting his glasses. “I could have sworn I left the” – a furtive glance – “special sheet music near the band, but they can’t find it anywhere. Can you look in my office?”

Your ears perk up. “Special sheet music?”

“Yes.” Mr. Kim sighs again. “I had Eunji’s favorite song arranged for our first dance – but I can’t find the sheet music anywhere, and the dancing is about to start.”

Glancing around, you realize the party has filled out. The patio, once mostly empty, is now crowded with evening gowns and other tuxedos.

Already nodding, Seokjin sets down his water. “I’ll go look,” he assures his dad. Stepping closer, he adds, “I’ll be right back. Okay?”

“Of course,” you murmur, dazed by his proximity.

Mr. Kim and Seokjin head in the direction of the house, leaving you alone in a sea of people. Nervously seeking something to do with your hands, you slowly sip your drink and move through the crowd.

Spotting Bradley near the dance floor, you slip behind some people and head towards the garden. A hedge maze takes up the northern side of the lawn. Although you don’t enter, you linger near its entrance. The fresh air makes it easier to process everything you’ve been feeling. Eventually, you hear the band start and return to the tent.

Hovering just inside the flap, you drink the last of your water and watch the speeches. First, Jaesuk introduces the band. Then Mrs. Kim speaks about thirty-eight years of marriage, only for Mr. Kim to join her and announce the first dance. Their song starts to play, Mrs. Kim gasps and her husband whisks her away to the dance floor.

Your vision blurs, watching them lean on each other. You want that. You want the certainty of knowing someone loves you as much as you love them – the solidness of a relationship built on trust and friendship. Remembering your conversation with Jimin, your stomach tightens.

Tonight is the last night you have to pretend.

Tomorrow, things will change one way or another. You’ll either tell Seokjin or you won’t and either way, your future will be different. Hovering on the outskirts, you can’t help but imagine what it would be like to date him. To really be the woman in Seokjin’s life, his plus one to all these events.

While you love Seokjin’s family, you don’t like the people here. And they don’t like you. No matter how many pretty dresses you wear or topics you memorize, you will never belong to places like these. Not like Seokjin does, or even Seohyun or Emilia.

This time when your head swims, you can’t blame it on alcohol. Depositing your empty glass on a tray, you step from the tent and head inside the house. You could use a few minutes alone before mingling – a quick bathroom break, and then you’ll return.

The house is blessedly quiet, nothing but ambient music playing over the speakers. You head for the bathroom on the right, knowing the other is usually occupied. Washing your hands, you survey yourself in the mirror. It’s strange to think about all the years you’ve stood in this exact spot.

Oddly enough, it brings a moment of clarity. Even if you don’t fit in with most people here, it hasn’t stopped Seokjin from wanting to be your friend. It hasn’t stopped his family from asking you to stay. There are people here who like you, who want you here – even Emilia, a woman who should probably hate you, asked to bury the hatchet.

Emboldened by this, you exit the bathroom – only to jump, realizing someone is standing outside.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” you say, and then freeze.

The woman standing before you, chin quivering with indignation, is none other than Mrs. Astor. Emilia’s mother.

She realizes who you are at the same moment you do, her expression shifting from bored to borderline fury. Immediately, your fight or flight instincts kick in, and you try to edge around her.

Loudly, she says, “So. I hear you’re dating Seokjin?”

Your feet slow to a stop.

Part of you wants to gloat. Part of you wants to run. But the largest part of you recognizes this conversation is happening. Mrs. Astor is not the type to let things go. It will only be worse if this conversation happens outside.

Turning around, you meet her gaze. “Yes,” you respond.

Her nostrils flare. “For how long?”

“Since April.” Unable to stop yourself, you add, “A little after Emilia and Jaesuk started dating.”

“That’s beside the point, young lady.”

You restrain yourself from adding that’s exactly the point. Years of experience have taught you that with people like Mrs. Astor, it’s best to give them nothing.

Taking a step forward, her eyes narrow. “My daughter might be too polite to say anything, but I see right through you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course, you do.” Drawing herself upright, she looks at you down her nose. “Don’t play stupid with me – I know you’re intelligent.”

“Thank you.”

Her scowl deepens. “You’d have to be, to pull off what you’ve done.”

“And what, exactly, have I done?”

Despite yourself, some annoyance leaks through. You came here for Seokjin, and tonight is supposed to be in celebration of his parents. Outside, the party continues but here you are, trapped in a hall with a bitter woman who could financially decimate you with a snap of her fingers.

“I’ve held my tongue for long enough,” she seethes – something you seriously doubt. “I’m not going to let you waltz into this household, flaunting your relationship before my precious Emilia. Do you know how embarrassing it was for her to be dumped? To be told over and over that you’re just a friend, only for you to spread your legs the second she was out of the picture?”

Heat burns in your throat. Unthinking, you take a step backwards, as though that will save you. Your brain stutters, leaving you without a response at the worst moment possible.

“That’s…” Your voice cracks. “I didn’t…”

“That’s enough, mom.”

Head turning, you find Emilia marching towards you. Her lips are set in a thin line, hands balled into fists on either side. She stops between you and her mother, fully five inches shorter but glowering upward.

Mrs. Astor has the decency to look chagrined. “Emilia, darling, I was just –”

“I know exactly what you were doing,” she snaps. “You’re mad that people are talking about us, so you’re taking it out on Y/N. When will you learn my life is none of your business?”

Your eyebrows raise at her obvious venom. Obviously, the feelings have been building for a while. Oddly enough, it snaps you from your trance and forces you back into fight mode. A dozen retorts rise to your lips, but you swallow them. Emilia seems to be doing just fine.

Mrs. Astor bristles, her gaze landing on you. “It becomes my business when people heavily imply that you cheated on Seokjin, when it’s clear to me he was fucking this harlot on the side.”

“Mom.”

“Don’t you ‘mom’ me,” Mrs. Astor huffs. “There's no need to –”

“Oh, I think there’s every need,” Seokjin interrupts, striding down the hall. His voice is tight with fury, and he stops beside Emilia, presenting a united front.

Mrs. Astor visibly wilts. “Now, Seokjin. Let’s not act hastily.”

“He’s not,” Emilia says shortly. “I told the Kim’s they didn’t need to invite you, but they wanted to extend an olive branch. They thought it might smooth things over and create a new path, but you can’t let things go.”

“Let things go?” Mrs. Astor puffs up again. “This man” – a vague gesture at Seokjin – “tossed you aside like garbage for someone with no connections, no money. Nothing of worth! Nothing beyond a passably pretty face, and I refuse –”

“To stay a minute longer,” Seokjin cuts in. “I agree. George?” He motions behind him. “Will you please escort Mrs. Astor to her vehicle? Have the staff find Mr. Astor and bring him, as well.”

George melts from the shadows at the end of the hall. “Right away, Mr. Kim.”

Mrs. Astor flushes crimson. “How dare you? We are here as guests –”

“Exactly,” Seokjin interrupts. “You are guests here under my family’s roof; a privilege I am now revoking. You’re welcome to bring the issue to my parents, but I imagine that would cause an even bigger scene. You should consider yourself lucky I’m allowing you to leave now.”

Sputtering, Mrs. Astor looks askance at her daughter. “And you really want to stay? When this is how they treat your family?”

Casting your gaze downward, you squirm with guilt. Inadvertently, you’ve caused a huge problem for Jaesuk. Emilia might not want to stay after Seokjin kicks her mom out, no matter what she said a few minutes ago.

Emilia steps forward, standing with Seokjin. “Mom,” she says. “If Seokjin hadn’t asked you to leave, I would have.”

The two of them make a formidable pair, side by side. Their designer apparel complements one another, and each of them seem confident their rule will be obeyed. You wonder what it would be like to have that type of confidence. That type of wealth and power behind your every decision.

It dulls something within you that, only a few minutes ago, felt new and shiny. Even if Seokjin doesn’t love Emilia and has fully moved on, it doesn’t change the fact that they made sense together. Mrs. Astor isn’t wrong about that.

For once, Seokjin was in a relationship with someone like him. Someone from the same social status, with the same background and upbringing. It would be unfathomable for him to move from that to someone like you. Someone who has nothing figured out, who currently works in a coffee shop and can’t finish their manuscript.

Your frustration reaches a boiling point when you realize this is a moot point. Seokjin and you aren’t even dating. Everything here is based on a lie. All that’s happened between the two of you were a few long looks and tension, all of which can be chalked up to the stress of the week.

When George takes Mrs. Astor away, you mutely step aside. She protests down the hall, insisting that this is outrageous, and her lawyers will be contacting Seokjin immediately. Not that you’re worried. Mrs. Kim is a lawyer, after all.

Once she’s gone, Emilia touches Seokjin’s arm. “I’ll get my dad,” she says and turns. Before she walks past, she gives you a sad smile. “Sorry you got caught in the middle of that. It had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.”

You nod, unable to voice your agreement out loud. An ugly voice insists it could have been about nothing else. Pressure builds in your mind, circling closer and closer to a breaking point.

Emilia walks away, her heels clicking down the hall. Once she’s gone, Seokjin exhales. “Are you okay?” he asks, turning to face you.

“I’m fine.”

He hesitates. “You don’t… seem fine.”

You laugh, the sound brittle. “I don’t know, Seokjin. Should I be? Mrs. Astor was cruel, but she wasn’t wrong.”

You step from his reach but not fast enough, and somehow, your wrist ends up in his hand. Before you can go, Seokjin marches the two of you in the opposite direction of his parents’ party.

Leading through the dim maze of halls that make up the east wing, he doesn’t break stride. Eventually, Seokjin pulls you into a darkened room – a library, you think – before shutting the door and whirling to face you.

“What are you talking about?” Seokjin demands.

For the second time tonight, you have nothing to say. Rarely have you seen Seokjin so heated. He glowers down at you, standing too close to be anything but purposeful. Your breath hitches, and you know Seokjin sees from the way his jaw tightens.

Still, if there’s anyoneyou can speak openly to, it would be him. Lifting your chin, you take a deep breath. “What Mrs. Astor said out there – she wasn’t wrong.”

“Which part. Specifically.”

The flatness to his tone sends a chill down your spine. “I have no connections. No money. No – oh my god,” you groan, rubbing your temple. “I sound like that woman in Pride and Prejudice.”

Seokjin’s face doesn’t move. “Charlotte. And technically, you made more money than me in your old job. You’re also friends with my family – I’d call that a connection.”

“I’m not in my old job. I work in a coffee shop and fail to finish anything I start. And your point about connections isn’t helping the way you think it is.”

“But her words didn’t mean anything,” Seokjin insists. “Even if – if – what she said was true, who cares about your money and connections?”

For a moment you see red, because he can be so infuriating. Sometimes, Seokjin is so willfully ignorant of the world around him.

“Your people care!” you blurt. “And that’s not all she was right about.”

“Again, you’ll have to be more specific.”

Exhaling, you force your gaze away. It’s too hard to look at Seokjin and confess your deepest, darkest fears. Heart beating wildly, you feel vaguely nauseated by what you have to say.

“If this relationship were real,” you mutter. “Seokjin… you have to be reasonable about how it would look.”

“I think I’m being very reasonable.”

“If we were dating, I’d bring nothing to this relationship,” you say, a fiery fist squeezing your heart. “Emilia’s family is right. When it comes to your world, your kind of people… I have zero worth.”

Tears burn your eyelids, and you frantically blink them away. In the next breath, Seokjin’s hands slide to either side of your jaw. His grip is gentle, thumb soothing your cheek as he tilts your face upward.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says quietly. “The only true thing that woman said was that you’re pretty. But even then, jealousy got the best of her. If she had been honest, she would’ve said you were the most beautiful woman in the room. In any room. In the entire universe. I haven’t done a full sweep to confirm, but I feel pretty confident.”

You scowl up at him. “That’s not funny, Seokjin.”

“I’m not being funny. I’m telling you the truth.”

“The most beautiful woman in the universe?” A hiccup. “Come on, Seokjin.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Fine,” you huff, aware he hasn’t let go. “I hear you. You think I’m beautiful. Great. That doesn’t change the fact that this fight is stupid. We’re not actually dating. We never were. My ego was hurt by the things that woman said, but I’ll get over it. When I leave here tomorrow, things will return to normal, and I’ll be fine.”

A muscle tics in his jaw. “And if I said I don’t want things to go back to normal?”

“Why would you say that?”

Seokjin stares at you a long moment, then roughly withdraws. Leaving you cold, he paces to the window and shoves a hand through his hair. He comes to a stop at the glass, lit by the moonlight.

Staring out at the lawn, he exhales. “Do you want to know the real reason I broke up with Emilia?”

You stare at his profile. When you don’t respond, Seokjin turns to face you. His expression is set, determined.

“No, actually,” he rebuffs. “It goes further than that. Do you want to know the real reason I told Bradley Wainright to back off? It wasn’t just that he was an ass – although he was – it was because I was hopelessly in love with you. Well.” Seokjin hesitates. “I don’t remember if I called it love yet. I just knew the thought of you dating him was physically painful.”

The room swims before your pulse speeds up. Seokjin still doesn’t move, continuing to watch from the windows.

“And then in college,” he says, his voice low. “I thought I’d accepted we wouldn’t happen. You started dating David in high school. I forced myself to date someone too, to entertain the thought of someone else. It didn’t work.”  

“But,” you blurt, unable to stop yourself. “You… were devastated when Lisa broke up with you.”

Seokjin shakes his head, walking forward. “And then, with Emilia…” He sighs. “I liked her. A lot. She was the first person who made me think maybe. Maybe this could work, maybe it could be enough. You seemed happy on your own, and I wanted to be happy, too. And then my birthday happened.”

Stopping before you, he breaks. His devastation is familiar – intimately so, since you’ve often felt the same. Each time he dated someone new. Each time you watched him be happy and felt selfish for worrying you’d never feel that way about anyone but him.

Shoving both hands in his pockets, Seokjin exhales. “I was drunk that night, but that’s no excuse. You had been pulling away, and I didn’t realize how much I missed you, how much I resented your absence until you showed up. And” – his breath hitches – “I almost kissed you.”

Barely a movement, you nod.

“I’m glad Emilia appeared,” he admits, looking down. “I’m glad we didn’t…”

A stone sinks in your stomach. “Oh.”

His head snaps up. “Not because I didn’t want to. No. I wanted to. God, I wanted–” He cuts himself off. “I’m glad that we didn’t because it would have ruined… this… forever. I did realize I was a fool, though. Thinking anyone could be happy being second place in my life. Because,” Seokjin admits, his voice hoarse, “they would always be second when it came to you.”

You blink up at him, dazed and questioning your grip on reality. The longer you stand there, the more Seokjin’s expression seems to waver.

“Y/N… I know that was a lot, and I –”

“I love you, too.”

For once, you’re the one to leave him speechless. Seokjin stares blankly, hand still in his pockets like he’s forgotten their use.

Taking a step forward, you place both hands on his chest. “Seokjin,” you whisper.

“Why are you whispering?” he also whispers.

“Shut up.” Your lips twitch. “I’m trying to say I’ve been in love with you since – well, I don’t really remember when it started.”

“Mm. Specific.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hitting his chest – damn. Solid. “It was when you were dating Emilia, though… that I knew. This wasn’t something I would get over. That was why I pulled away from you. I knew the way I felt wasn’t healthy, and I wanted… Seokjin, I always want the best for you. It’s just –”

Moving in one fluid movement, Seokjin steps closer. His hands cup your face, crushing your mouth to his. Everything falls apart, reforming around him, around you, around the two of you together.

“Fuck,” Seokjin groans, pulling back long enough to angle your jaw and dive in again. His mouth slants over yours, hands sliding backwards to cup your neck. His mouth is soft, and then not. His touch careful, then not.

Somehow, your spine flattens to the bookcase. Seokjin continues to kiss you, one hand braced on a shelf and the other gripping your waist. Breaking away, he trails heat down your throat.

“Should we” – a groan – “I don’t know” – you gasp – “talk about this?”

Seokjin pauses, then nips your earlobe. “Yeah, let’s talk. What do you want from me, Y/N?”

Abruptly, you pull back and hit your head on the shelf. “Ow!” you huff. “What do you mean, what do I want?”

Seokjin gently cradles the back of your head. “Well, I told you what I want. You. Selfishly, I’d like for us to be exclusive. I want to call you my girlfriend, and not just for this week but honestly, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

His words steal the breath from your lungs.

Uncertainty mars his expression. “Unless… I misread things.”

“No,” you blurt, clutching him closer. “No – you didn’t misread anything. I was just… wondering if I’m dreaming.”

He smiles so wide it nearly breaks your heart. “If you’re dreaming, I’m dreaming.”

“… is that a riff on the Notebook?”

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.”

The moment washes over you, more surreal than anything experienced this week. Seokjin in a suit, hair falling over his forehead, telling you that he wants you and always has. Albeit in a way that makes you want to roll your eyes. Happiness swells in your heart.

“Mm,” you say, cleverly. You’re having a hard time looking away from his mouth. A fact Seokjin realizes, since his smirk widens.

“So.” Bending, he brushes a soft kiss to your jaw. “We’re agreed?”

“About?”

“That we’re exclusive.” He presses a kiss to your cheekbone.

“Yes.”

His lips curve. “You’re my… girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

Another kiss, this time to your forehead. “You love me.”

Silent, you nod.

His lips tug downward. “I’d like to hear it, please.”

“Seokjin,” you sigh. “I love you. And if you don’t kiss me now, I’m going to march back out there and ask Bradley Wain –”

Seokjin growls, capturing your lips and pressing you into the shelf. Curling your arms around his neck, you arch up against him. Seokjin’s hands find your waist, brushing the sequins and holding you tight. Your heart hammers, fully aware this is Seokjin touching you. Seokjin’s lipsroughly descending your throat.

“Ah,” you breathe, rolling against him.

Seokjin’s hands are everywhere – around your waist, up your back, and then cupping your ass. When he slots his knee between yours, you feel his whole length and shiver.

“Fuck,” he mutters, breaking away long enough to press his forehead to yours. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?”

“Probably… about the same as I have?”

“No. Definitely more.”

You laugh, although this quickly fades at the look on his face. “What did you think about?”

Seokjin considers. “Everything,” he says, splaying one hand on your thigh. “Sometimes I just thought about kissing you. Other times…” His lips brush your neck. “The other night, when you asked me to zip up your dress… I thought about how easy it would be to slide my hands underneath. To slip the straps from your shoulders.”

Your breath hitches. “You should have.”

“I wanted to touch you so badly. To run my hands” – he illustrates in real time – “up your body and tease your pretty nipples.”

“Seokjin,” you gasp, core tightening.

“What are you wearing underneath this?”

“Guess.”

Darkly, he chuckles against your collarbone. Removing his hand from the bookshelf, Seokjin bends to grasp the edge of your dress. Slowly, he stands and drags the hem with. “I’ve been watching your ass in this dress all night,” he murmurs, stopping at your knee. “I don’t think you’re wearing anything beneath it at all.”

Tantalizing silence stretches as slowly – so slowly – he inches the fabric upward. Seokjin’s hand skims your thigh, circling to firmly grip your ass. Casually, he strokes two of his fingers dangerously close to where you’re dripping wet.

“Scandalous, Y/N.” A brow lift. “Why, anyone” – shifting his hand, his index finger brushes your center – “could have their way with you if you wanted.”

“That’s kind of the point,” you say, breathless.

His gaze becomes heady. “And if I ask?”

Not saying a word, you grip his wrist and guide his hand lower. Seokjin inhales when you show him how wet you are.

“God,” he groans, reaching to stroke your clit. A shudder wracks your body, and you clutch him tighter. “But first…”

Seokjin withdraws and you glance down, confused, before he drops to his knees. With both feet on the ground, your chest rises and falls against the bookshelf. Removing his tuxedo jacket, Seokjin tosses this to the nearest armchair. His bow tie follows, leaving him in only the button-down, vest, and trousers.

Easing your hem higher, Seokjin hands you the fabric. “Hold this,” he demands, and you obey without thought. “Lift.” He taps your thigh and again, you obey – gasping when he places your leg on his shoulder. The motion bares you fully, sparing no modesty. Your pussy spreads indecently, showing Seokjin how badly you want him. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, reaching down to palm himself.

Slowly, you lean your weight onto the shelf. Seokjin continues to watch, and unfortunately, it’s the most turned on you’ve ever been in your life. You can physically feel yourself clenching, needing him inside you.

When Seokjin finally bends to press a kiss to your thigh, a whimper escapes you. His gaze flicks to yours. Still watching, Seokjin moves his mouth to where your legs part. Gaze locked on yours, he slowly sucks your clit.

“Ho-ly fuck,” you groan, back arching.

You feel him smirk, one hand rising to cup your backside and open you wider. From there, everything is a blur. Heat from his mouth, soft flicks of his tongue, and the sound of him moaning between your spread thighs. At some point, both of his hands find your ass, coaxing you lower so he can tilt you towards him. You lose track of time after that, chasing the heat of his mouth as you roll your hips.

Broken, you reach down to grip his hair with one hand. Seokjin growls, nose nudging your clit as he licks you open. Your body coils tighter and tighter, on the brink of coming when he tears away – mouth wet – to gasp, “Come for me, Y/N. Wanna feel it like this,” and you break.

Everything muffles, exploding outward in a riot of color. Seokjin holds you through it, easing you down from the momentous high. When you open your eyes, your legs trembling, you realize you’ve eased halfway down the bookshelf. Seokjin grins at you from the ground, his neck flushed.

“So,” he says, fumbling to close his vest. “Shall we return to the party?”

Your jaw drops.

Starting to laugh, Seokjin pushes himself upward to stand. In a fluid movement, he pulls you with and smooths your dress down. “If you think I’m letting anyone else see you like this,” he murmurs in your ear, “you’d be wrong.”

Pleasure spirals through you. “If you think we’re leaving this room without you coming, you’re also wrong.”

Seokjin considers. “How about a deal?”

“Sorry, you already offered to do my laundry.”

“An offer you turned down,” he points out. “But no – that’s not the type of deal I meant. I propose we move to my room and in return, I’ll make you come twice more tonight.”

“Three times.”

He pauses, then flashes a wicked grin. “Deal.”

“Wait – what?” you blurt, suddenly panicked. “Hang on, Seokjin, I didn’t mean it. I’m sensitive! I can’t handle that many orgasms in one night, I’ll explode or –”

Gripping your hand, he steers you towards the door. “We’ll see.”

Before you can protest, he has you in the hall. His suit jacket and tie are grabbed before the door shuts and thrown over one arm. Still holding your hand, Seokjin pokes his head around the corner to check the coast is clear. Once certain, he tugs you forward.

You giggle when he repeats this around the next corner. It’s so surreal because on the one hand, you know Seokjin. This side of him is familiar – the funny, charismatic best friend. At the same time, everything about it feels new. The ease of him touching you. The sheer relief in your chest at having nothing hidden. At knowing he wants you the same way you want him.

He proves this in the next hall, abruptly turning to press you against the wall. Seokjin kisses you hungrily, one palm cupping on your jaw. When he pulls back, his gaze is lidded.

“What was that for?” you breathe.

He smiles. “Do I need a reason?”

“Well, no.”

“Great.”

His lips find yours again, and you lose track for a while. Eventually, you force yourself to surface once more.

“We need to keep moving,” you tell him.

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “You forget that my family owns this place. And that everyone here already thinks we’re dating.”

“It’s your parents’ party, though! Shouldn’t we… I don’t know…”

He stops to consider. “Are you saying you want to return to the party and pretend nothing happened? That my dick isn’t hard, and I didn’t just have my face between your – actually,” Seokjin muses, seeming to change his mind. “I take it back. That could be fun.”

“Seokjin!” you hiss.

Grinning, he bends to kiss your forehead. “What can I say? I’m making up for lost time. Which – on that note, let’s head to my room. My parents won’t care. And if they do, I’ll take the blame.”

You mock-swoon. “My boyfriend, the hero.”

“See, I know you’re trying to insult me, but all I heard was you calling me your boyfriend. And that” – voice dropping, he takes your hand to press to his front – “really makes me want to forget where we are.”

Breath quickening, you tentatively cup his length through his trousers. Slowly, you stroke and feel his cock harden. You’ve always known Seokjin was large. One summer break during college, he convinced you to go skinny dipping in this very lake. Both of you closed your eyes and promised not to peek as you dove, again and again, from the floating dock.

You lied, though. You peeked. Even soft and in the dark, you could tell Seokjin was big, and this knowledge fueled fantasies for the rest of the summer. Now, you find yourself faced with this knowledge first-hand and feel some trepidation.

Watching your face, Seokjin sees the shift. “Hey,” he murmurs. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. There’s no pressure – we can go as fast or slow as you want. We have time.”

Hearing him say this melts all remaining reservations. Curling your fingers into his collar, you pull him closer. “I want you,” you say. “All of you. Tonight.”

Seokjin’s gaze burns. “Alright. But just because you say that now doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind. We’ll go slow – okay?”

“Okay.”

Taking your hand once more, Seokjin moves down the hall. Several turns and two short staircases later, you find yourself in front of your bedroom. Seokjin must have taken you the back way to avoid the foyer.

Reaching the door, Seokjin pauses. He frowns at the knob.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

His gaze moves sideways. “Nothing is… wrong. I just find myself suddenly worrying about everything that could happen. I don’t want to… disappoint you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen, not having expected this to be going on in his head. Seokjin comes off as so confident but again, you remember this is your friend. This isn’t some guy you’re about to hop into bed with but the man you love – a man who loves you, and who knows this is more than a fling.

Sliding both hands to either side of his face, you force Seokjin to look at you. “You can’t disappoint me,” you reiterate. Seokjin grimaces, and you shake your head. “You can’t. Even if it takes time for us to figure this out, I still want you. And besides,” you mumble, face hot. “If what happened downstairs is anything to go by, I don’t think you need to worry.”

Seokjin surveys you seriously. “God,” he exhales, drawing you close to wrap both arms around you. “I missed you so much these past months.”

“I missed you, too.”

After a moment, Seokjin opens the door and pulls you inside. He tosses his jacket and tie on the sofa, stepping free of his loafers to stand in the middle. Seeing him do this, you bend to remove your own shoes, but Seokjin clears his throat.

“You… should leave those on.”

Your fingers pause on the straps, and slowly, you straighten. Seokjin walks towards you, coming to a stop mere inches away.

Lifting a finger, he slips it beneath your dress strap. “Turn around,” he murmurs.

“Yes, sir.”

When you obey, you feel Seokjin’s breath at your throat. “Now, Y/N,” he murmurs. “If you keep doing exactly what I tell you to do, I might forget the terms of our deal. Might make it four orgasms. Maybe five.”

A delicious shiver runs through you. Seokjin grasps the zipper and drags it down your body. When your back is exposed, he keeps the dress on and slips both hands inside.

“We haven’t talked about that,” he says. “What you like in bed. What I like in bed. Shouldn’t best friends know that?”

“I – I don’t know,” you gasp as his hands slide up your front to gently cup your breasts. Seokjin hums, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“So,” he continues. “Tell me, Y/N – what do you like?”

“Do you want an itemized list?”

“Yeah. Send it to my email. But for now,” he breathes. “Do you like me teasing your pretty nipples like this?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Tugging gently, Seokjin’s other hand slides down your stomach to press you against him. “Based on what happened in the library, I assume you like oral?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“Yes,” he says simply. His hand travels even lower, resting below your belly button. “I’ve thought a lot about what your lips would look like wrapped around my cock, Y/N.”

“So, it seems you like dirty talk – ah, fuck,” you groan when his finger slides between your legs.

“Tell me more things you like.”

Eyelashes fluttering, you lean your head to his shoulder. Seokjin applies gentle pressure, slowly massaging your clit.

“I like delayed orgasms more than multiple,” you admit.

His finger pauses. “Yeah,” Seokjin grunts and resumes. “That’s even hotter than what I was picturing. What else?”

“I like being told what to do.”

“Good.” His hands withdraw. “Take off your dress.”

Turning around, you slide the straps from your shoulders and let the dress drop. Seokjin watches, gaze dark and your nipples tighten. Dizzy with want, you press your thighs together.

“Fuck,” Seokjin groans, shoving a hand through his hair. “This… you…”

He looks nearly broken, and you glance at your body. It looks the same to you but seems to be causing him physical harm. Before you can speak, Seokjin closes the distance between you and crushes your mouth to his.

“I should probably confess,” Seokjin says between kisses, “I totally peeked that time we went skinny-dipping.”

Rather than scold him, you start to laugh. Seokjin swallows each sound, gripping your ass to lick up your throat.

“I also peeked,” you confess. “I needed to know if you were lying about the condoms.”

Only a month prior, Seokjin had caused a minor scandal in the grocery store when a king-sized condom flew out of his wallet. You had ribbed – ha, pun intended – him about it for weeks, only to dream about it each night.

Smirking, Seokjin puts your hand on his cock. “I wasn’t.”

“I know that now, you – oh!”

Bending, Seokjin lifts you over one shoulder to walk towards the bed. He drops you with a thump, watching your tits bounce as he lowers one knee.

“As enjoyable as these were,” he says, removing your shoes. “They could be a hazard. What else?” he demands, covering you with his body.

He’s still mostly clothed, and you’ve never felt so desired in your life. Your breasts brush his shirt, core grazing his thigh as he gathers you to him.

“Tell me what you do when you come on your own.”

You blink up at him. “What?”

“Y/N.” His gaze drags down your body. “You’re naked beneath me. I was licking your cunt barely twenty minutes ago. Don’t tell me you’re too embarrassed to talk about masturbation.”

“No,” you breathe, but honestly, you stopped thinking around when he said cunt.

“Y/N…”

“It depends,” you say, lowering yourself to your elbows. “Sometimes I’m in a hurry and I use my vibrator. Sometimes I touch myself. Sometimes...” Heat climbs your throat. “I like using a dildo.”

Lowering a hand between your bodies, Seokjin parts your thighs. “Oh? Do tell.”

Your breath hitches when he slowly starts stroking. Up and down, up and down – lightly, he teases your swollen folds.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me how you use your dildo.”

“I don’t know. How do most people use a dildo?”

Seokjin shrugs, continuing the same, maddening motion. “Some people bounce on it. Other people fuck themselves with it. Some like ass play or using two dildos at once. Me?” Voice dropping, he slips a finger inside you. “I think it’d be fun to have you rub against it, trying to get off without something inside you.”

Your eyes have gone glassy and somehow, you find yourself clutching his sleeves. “Yes. Holy fuck, yes.”

Lightly, he laughs and moves his finger inside you. “You’re so perfect, Y/N. Such a tight little pussy. I can’t wait to stretch you out.”

“You will,” you whimper, rocking your hips.

With one hand, you reach for his pants to palm him through the fabric. Seokjin has gotten harder, and you audibly swallow.

He groans. “Careful, Y/N.”

“I need more,” you whine, shifting beneath him.

Seokjin obediently adds another finger. His thumb rubs your clit, working his fingers deeper inside you. Panting, you lay back on the bed to watch. Seokjin seems fixated on your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Hold these,” he murmurs, pushing your knees to your chest. Grasping one in each hand, you spread yourself wider. With an appreciative sound, Seokjin withdraws his hand to undo his vest.

Your whimper dies when he tosses this and his shirt to the floor. Fully naked from the waist up, he lowers himself to his stomach and drags his mouth up your thigh.

“Fucking delicious,” he breathes, licking your cunt again.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, still holding your thighs.

He isn’t gentle this time, sucking your clit hard enough you see stars. With one orgasm down, you can take it. He slides two, and then three, fingers into your pussy, stroking your g-spot over and over.

The noises you make would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so fuckinggood. Seokjin isn’t quiet either, grinding his dick to the mattress while eating you out. You watch his hips move, shoulder muscles bunching in a way that drives you wild. Sliding both hands under your ass, he pulls you closer and sucks hard again.

“Holy – fuck!” you gasp, the pleasure spiraling tighter and tighter.

Seokjin works you with his tongue, fucking you with his fingers and right as you’re about to come – he withdraws.

“No!” you sob, collapsing back on the mattress.

Seokjin sits up and grins, wiping his mouth with one hand. “What’s wrong?”

Scowling up at him, your chest heaves. “You know what’s wrong, asshole. I was about to come.”

“Oh.” He blinks. “Guess I should try again.”

Your legs shake when he bends, immediately picking up where he left off. Sucking hard on your clit, he eases both fingers inside and strokes the same spot. Higher and higher he brings you, your hips undulating against him, until–

“Seokjin!” you curse when he pulls away.

“Ohh.” Seokjin nods, cupping the bulge in his pants. “I see what you mean. Yeah, I’m taking your feedback into consideration. Instead of four more orgasms let’s do one delayed orgasm.”

Immediately, your whole body tightens. Seokjin arches a brow at your peaked nipples, squeezing his cock once before he releases.

“I guess you like that,” he murmurs, lowering himself to the mattress. This time, Seokjin is gentle while licking your clit. “What” – he circles his tongue – “about” – a long, leisurely suck – “this?”

His index finger circles your entrance, maddeningly slow. Every so often, he dips his finger inside. By now, your orgasm is so close, your entire body is shaking. You think a light breeze might do it, but then Seokjin chuckles and spreads your pussy with both hands.

Locking gazes, he spits straight on your clit. Before you can move, he sucks hard and pushes two fingers inside.

You break. Helpless, you collapse against the onslaught of pleasure. Over and over, waves drag you under until slowly, you resurface to Seokjin’s touch. He presses a kiss to your thigh, easing your legs from their open position.

Kissing his way up your body, he captures your mouth with his. You taste yourself on his lips and savor the moment. Humming, you happily pull him against you and lock both legs around his waist.

“Y/N,” he mumbles.

You arch underneath him.

Seokjin swears. “Y/N,” he grunts, breaking away long enough to see you. “What do you want to do next?”

Blinking upward, you don’t understand the question. Then you realize what he’s asking and heat courses through you.

“I want you inside me,” you say, determined. Your hands reach for his pants. “Please.”

Seokjin nods, helping with the button as you yank down the zipper. Slipping your hands under his boxers, you shove these down to free his cock. Seokjin manages to get them all the way off, joining his pants on the floor.

His length bobs between you, and now, your mouth waters. You thought you understood Seokjin’s size before but there’s something entirely different about seeing him in this context. Your dildo at home will wither with shame – Seokjin is fully eight or nine inches, thick and veiny with a bead of cum at the top.

Awed, you encircle him with one hand. Seokjin shudders. “O-kay,” he huffs, gripping your wrist. “As fun as it would be to come in my pants, let’s save that for later – alright?”

Your eyes widen. “Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, let’s do that.”

Seokjin leans over the nightstand, presumably for a condom, but you hold him in place. Frowning, he pulls back.

“Actually,” you say. “What if… you didn’t?”

“You don’t… want me to wear a condom?”

“I mean, you can if you want.” Breathless, you add, “But I have an IUD. And I got tested last month and am clean. I haven’t been with anyone else since. So…”

Seokjin pauses. “I was tested two months ago and was clean. I haven’t been with anyone since my break-up.”

You glance down, then up. “So… you don’t have to wear one if you don’t want to.”

“Y/N, are you sure?”

“Seokjin,” you groan, reaching between you. Gripping his length, you swipe the tip with your thumb. “Please. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Wrapping his hand around his cock, Seokjin strokes himself roughly. Leaning forward, he presses the tip to your cunt. Casually, he drags himself up and down to get his length wet.

Keeping your leg open with one palm, his other hand guides his cock to rut against you. You whimper at the motion, then moan when his cock catches at your entrance.

“Not yet,” Seokjin murmurs. “You’re being so good. Drenching my cock, and I’m not even inside you.”

“Seokjin,” you pant. Each time he brushes your clit, you nearly shatter. “Please. I need it.”

“Need what, Y/N?”

“Your cock.”

Still gripping his length, he slaps your clit. You make a noise so needy and sinful, you nearly come on the spot. Seokjin does it again, watching your whole body tremble – until he simply gives up, notching at your entrance and pushing inside.

You groan when he fills you, stretching your body. You don’t come, but nothing – nothing – has ever felt so good. Seokjin seems to feel the same way, arms trembling as he holds himself above you. Only the head of his cock is inside, but the stretch feels so good, you can barely take it.

“Seokjin,” you whimper, both arms around him.

He looks down at you, breathless and slowly pushes inside. Each roll of his hips works you open, your hips lifting to take him even deeper.

“You’re so… so big,” you groan.

“I know,” he murmurs, lowering his thumb to your clit. “You can take it. That’s nearly half.”

“Half?”

Lazily, he thrusts. “You’re doing so well.”

With soft praise and coaxing, Seokjin continues to fill you until he bottoms out. You moan when you feel his balls flush to your ass, practically split in two by his massive cock. Seokjin lowers himself to one elbow, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck.

“Look at me,” he demands, pulling out to the tip. You whimper, and he languidly thrusts in again. “That’s it. God, I could watch you take my cock for hours.”

You pant, gaze locked on his when he does it again. Stuffed full of his cock, you wonder how he lives without bragging about this to everyone. You’re going to have a hard time keeping your mouth shut after this. For various reasons.

Seeing the shift on your face, Seokjin thrusts harder. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” you groan. “I was just – ah – thinking about sucking your cock.”

He pauses, then swears. “You can’t just say that, Y/N,” he complains, lifting himself to his elbows. Seokjin thrusts into you harder, deeper. “I’ve been thinking about this for years. It’s probably embarrassing how often I’ve thought about you spread out beneath me.”

“I thought about it, too. I – I couldn’t help it.”

“Neither could I,” he confesses, moving faster. “I tried to stop. Tried to tell myself it was wrong. And god, was I wrong,” he groans, licking a strip up your neck. “You’re even sweeter than I imagined, Y/N. I need to fuck you everywhere in this house.”

A giggle escapes, turning into a moan when he does something with his hips. “That would take a long time,” you pant, locking both ankles over his ass. “Don’t be greedy.”

“I am, though. My mind is going to crazy places, Y/N.” Shifting his hips, he hits a deeper angle. “I want to keep you in this bedroom for weeks. I want to come inside you, lick your pussy clean, then come in you again. I want to fuck you against the window and make Bradley watch.”

“Fuck,” you choke out.

“Do you like that,” he pants. “Do you like hearing how badly I want you?”

“Yes,” you moan, lifting your hips to match every thrust. “I like it. What else did you think about?”

“I want you to ride me. I want to fuck you against a wall. I want to have you half out of your dress, bouncing on my cock where people could hear.” His gaze darkens. “I want to take you from behind. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all week. Bending you over, licking that pussy and then pushing inside.”

His last words sound gutted, Seokjin’s gaze heavy with lust. Reaching between you, you rub your clit and let out a whine.

“Do it,” you demand. “Flip me over. I want you to fuck me like that.”

Seokjin pauses, then abruptly pulls out. Left empty, you whimper, but he swiftly turns you around to lay on your stomach. Yanking your hips in the air, he bends forward and brushes a kiss to your neck.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. I love you.”

You try not to squirm, but it’s hard with him positioned behind you like this. Pussy bared to his gaze, Seokjin runs his middle finger up and down your wet cunt.

“Ah,” he groans, sinking his finger inside. After his cock, it barely feels like a stretch. Seokjin chuckles, withdraws and slaps you on the ass.

You moan, melting a little. “Again. Please.”

“You like that, hm?” Smacking your ass again, he sinks two fingers inside you. “I can’t believe how perfect you are, Y/N. All for me.”

“All for you,” you agree.

Unable to hold back any longer, Seokjin positions his cock and thrusts inside. You groan, going from empty to full in a matter of seconds. Turning your face on the pillow, you watch him as he fills you. Seokjin withdraws, then pushes back in with agonizing slowness.

Pressed into the mattress this way, his cock is so deep, you can feel yourself trembling. It won’t take long to come in this position – a fact Seokjin seems to realize. Clutching the pillow, you watch him move in and out, fucking you slowly and building momentum.

He keeps your knees spread, his grip on you tight while easing you back on his cock. You bite down on the pillow when his pace increases, slamming again and again into your needy pussy. When you tighten around him, Seokjin grunts.

“Don’t touch yourself yet,” he pants, going harder. “How badly do you want to come, Y/N?”

“So, so bad,” you say with a hiccup.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he coaxes. “You’re almost there. Just relax and let me do all the work. You’re taking my cock so nicely – such a sweet, tight pussy. Going to feel so fucking good when I fill you up with my cum.”

You cry out, ass shaking as Seokjin pounds into you deeper. Lifting your hips, he spreads you wide and slams into your g-spot. Everything narrows to the feeling of his cock inside you. You’re glad of the position because you don’t need to think about holding yourself up on your own.

Reaching around you, Seokjin brushes your clit and that’s it. Game over. Your orgasm overtakes you, body collapsing with endless waves of bliss. Vision blurring, you push back on his cock when you feel him go deeper.

Gasping your name, Seokjin comes as well. His cum fills you in pulses while he slowly thrusts and comes down from his high. You feel some of his cum drip from your body, and when he pulls out, you squeeze to send another gush.

Seokjin says something not repeatable in good company. “Fu-ck,” he groans, dragging his fingers through the mess. “How did we spend so long not doing this?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh, collapsing onto your side.

Seokjin drops beside you, looping his arm over your waist to drag you against him. He kisses you deeply, thumb stroking your hip.

When you surface, you wince. “These sheets are definitely ruined.”

“There are some in the wardrobe,” Seokjin says lazily. “Or we can move to one of the many, many open rooms on this floor.”

Your smile grows. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me out for that. I very obviously wanted to sleep with you.”

His eyes go wide. “Excuse me? You made me take the couch!”

“You put yourself on the couch.”

Seokjin sputters, clearly incensed as your grin widens. Rolling from his grip, you head to the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you reemerge, Seokjin is busy stripping the bed.

“Kind of pointless, if you ask me,” he grumbles. “We’re definitely doing that again before sunrise.”

Abruptly, your core tightens. “It’s not fair,” you complain, collapsing once the fitted sheet is on. “You know way more about what turns me on than I know about you.”

Seokjin throws the next sheet over your naked body and joins you beneath it. He pulls you against him, unable to let go. “I think I said I wanted to fuck you and have Bradley watch. Was that not intimate enough for you?”

You shiver when Seokjin kisses your neck. “Yeah, yeah – that was good,” you say, placing one hand on his chest. “But next time, I want to start with a blow job.”

Against your thigh, Seokjin immediately hardens. Cracking up, you fall back on the bed and Seokjin follows, nipping your collarbone. Eventually you go still, gazing at him beneath the rosy hue of the bed sheet.

Seokjin’s gaze traces your face. “I just want you to know,” he murmurs. “I’m all in. This is… nothing will change the way I feel about you. Ever. This is it for me.”

Your heart swells, overflowing as you bury your face in his chest. “Same,” your whisper, voice cracking slightly. “I love you, Seokjin.”

And suddenly, you realize there are no more gaps between you and what you want. All the crevices are filled in and your world feels fully whole.

After all, Seokjin is it for you, too. Time may be relative, but the future before you feels long.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2025. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Author's Note: THANK YOU FOR READING! It is so good to be back here, posting again. Thank you to everyone who waited for me, and WOOHOO BTS IS ALMOST BACK!

Second Author's Note: I really, really wanted L2H!Jungkook to make a cameo at one of these parties but unfortunately, L2H!Seokjin is happily married to Yoongi, so it just wouldn't have made sense. Know that in a non-canon universe, CC!Seokjin and L2H!Jungkook are friends LOL

[the-djarin-clan]

I wanted to read some Jin fics in these two 'Echo' vibes

I start to shake just thinking about it....

Bad Boy, punk, enemies to lovers vibes.....

The kind of story where you don't know whether you want to hit the boy or kiss him.

[seokjinsonlyone]

even more niche boyfriend things i think bts would do

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

namjoon:

not a newborn baby but is a big proponent of the kangaroo care concept; like loves to cuddle you while he’s shirtless; him on his back you laid on top of him, skin touching skin at every possible contact point; it does it for him every time

sends you pictures of animals he finds wandering around when he’s out and about 

takes soooo many pictures of you; don't get me wrong there's a fair share of couples photos like you're definitely taking selfies together whenever y'all go out but he takes twice as many off guard pictures of you as posed ones; definitely has a pic of you during golden hour forlornly looking out a window as his lockscreen

asks you to make him a playlist and listens to it whenever he misses you even if it's really disjointed and doesn't fit his mood simply bc you made it and he's always in the mood for you <333

learns to be more gentle around you so he becomes 5-7% less clumsy when you’re around

if you went to a party together i think there’d only be like one hour max where you’re separated from each other any more than that and y’all both start getting fidgety from missing each other bc if you’re in the same space you absolutely have to be together; when you do meet back up he tucks you up underneath his arm and kisses your temple and y’all are sickly cute for the rest of the night; like enough lovey dovey pda to make someone nauseous

always amazed at the amount of stuff you manage to bring out the house; like you'll come out after him and he sees you walking towards the car, arms stuffed to the brim with water bottles and lotions and umbrellas and whatever else you deemed necessary for the day's outings, so he has to rush to help you before you drop everything; eventually gets hip to the fact that you're a a girl and you're always gonna have bunch of things and starts pre-loading your belongings so you won't have to struggle

Oblivious Boyfriend™; as smart and emotionally intelligent and mindful as he is, he's not a mindreader; like he be so focused on his feelings for you, his passions, and his work that he lowkey don't know wtf going on outside of that; so if there's something going on around you or something wrong with you or you have a problem with him you're gonna have to spell it out lest he be none the wiser

doesn't like when you watch him work out because you're more of a distraction than anything but he does like going to you straight after working out; he gets a real kick out of the way you ogle him and feel up on his biceps while he's all pumped up 

he really likes when you call him cute nicknames; joon, joonie, joonie boonie, namu like it lowkey make his heart soar; his personal favorite is joon bug you call him that and he would literally steal the moon if you asked 

seokjin:

tests out all his new recipes on you; feeds you bites to taste along the way so you're not too hungry because he's a perfectionist and it takes him extra time for him to plate it; "the presentation is just as important as the taste!"

likes when you’re in the same room as him while he plays his games; not necessarily watching him but just your company is enough; switches between focusing on the game and engaging you in conversation so you won’t get bored; would actually love it if you did take an interest in whatever game he was playing; would take his time explaining the back story of each character and their strengths and weaknesses; would start a separate game so that you could play and have you sit between his legs while he helped you with the controls

has to kiss you at least 3 times before leaving the house; once when you wake up, once while you’re going through your morning routine, and once before you leave; more kisses may be shared but any less than three and he swears his whole day is thrown off

he’s going to pick at you; there’s just no way around it it’s in his nature; he won’t do it enough to make you actually annoyed but enough that you wanna smack him around a little; which… he likes things like that

has no problem singing and dancing whenever y'all are casually listening to music but if you actually wanted him to sing for you he'd get all shy, red in the ears and neck and would have to take a couple days to practice before following through

begs you to join him for tennis practice bc he wants you two to become the next venus and serena

y’all will do that one couples trend on tiktok where they paint each other and then reveal the pictures at the end and it’s not like yours is fantastic or anything but you can tell that you at least tried; meanwhile when you see seokjin’s painting you can’t tell if you’re looking at a distorted walrus or a possessed squirrel either way it is NOT you no matter how much he insists it looks like you

stays sending you thirst traps; like whenever he looks good whether it's bc he's all dolled up for some event or he's fresh out the shower with his hair slicked back or he just sees himself in a mirror and remembers he's worldwide handsome, his phone is out, he's putting a sultry look on his face, snapping a pic, and sending it straight to you

you binge watch animes together; no one will see or hear from either of y’all for like 5 days straight, complete radio silence; and when someone finally knocks on the door they see that y’all been camped out in the living room no phone in sight on season 6 of whatever anime y’all started last friday night  

must feed you every time you meet up; like if he has not seen you eat something in the time you spend together he has not completed his boyfriend duties; even if he comes to your place he has to make sure you have at least eaten a snack; doesn't matter how much you weigh he absolutely can not have you wasting away on his watch

yoongi:

gently tucks your hair behind your ear

always offers you his arm to link when it’s cold out so y’all can share each other’s warmth; he absolutely will still be wearing slides with no socks tho and you fuss at him about it every time

lets you play in his hair; just sits there nonchalantly while you give him the most ridiculous hair styles; pig tails, corn rows, mohawks; as long as you don’t cut nothing he doesn’t care fr; takes a picture when you’re done with that big gummy smile on full display bc of how silly he looks

says he's not a big social media person but one of his favorite past times is sitting down with you scrolling down your fyp for hours; makes you send the funniest videos to him so he can watch later

you’re one of the few people that he gains energy from being around so he likes your presence even when you’re not particularly doing anything; like you just be sitting next to each other or like be hand in hand on a walk around the neighborhood not even saying anything but in his head he’s thinking about what a great time he’s having 

if you're up late at night and start feeling peckish he'll make you some snacks even if he doesn't plan on eating; still scolds you about how eating late at night is bad as he's enabling you; ends up eating with you too

he doesn't like watching dramas with you; he'll claim it's bc of the plot but really he just doesn't like how you be kicking your feet and giggling at the male leads

not the best with verbal affirmations so whenever he does go out of his way to compliment you he ends up just as flustered as you are; “you look pretty today” and his cheeks are flushed more than yours 

always preps you to bargain and gathers together all coupons before y’all go grocery shopping; “just bc i’m rich doesn’t mean i like to be ripped off” 

he's always listening to you even when it seems like he's not; you could be rambling on about something and you think he's not paying attention so you stop midsentence and be like "are you even listening to what i'm saying?" and he looks up from whatever he was doing and then repeats back to you everything you said; has a great memory in general so he remembers everything you say and do even the small things that you forget about

hoseok:

sends ‘thinking of you’ texts just to let you know when you’re on his mind

if you start dancing to a song he gets all hyped up and he’s joining you immediately; hands on your hips moving you as he pleases; it’s a club wherever you and the music are

makes you one of his little beaded bracelets that says “ur my hope”

if you fell asleep in a position that looks uncomfortable he’d gently rearrange you until he got you in a more normal position; 100% the type to carry you bridal style to bed if you fell asleep for the night on the couch 

the type to pop up at your crib with an insane amount of the most exquisite, top tier take out and you gotta try to figure out who he think eating all this; doesn't even try to fight the boujee allegations when you tease him for bringing out caviar and truffles 

always takes pics of you when he thinks you look good; like you could be running late and you’re rushing trying to get out the door but hoseok is just gonna spend a good 30 seconds checking you out while you’re fussing at him and then be like wait a minute and starts posing you; has several organized folders of you because of this labeled by genre of your look; it’s easier that way so when he’s showing people pictures of you they won’t accidentally get a peek of something meant for his eyes only

loves the idea of you becoming his family so he really likes bringing you home; warms his heart to see you getting along with his parents and his sister; sets up a group chat with you him and his sister to help y'all talk more but lowkey gets pouty when y'all do get closer and be chatting and hanging out without him 💀

if you're not already together he'll facetime you in the morning; he won't have much to say at first other than a groggy good morning; but after he comes to terms with the fact that he has to be awake and takes a couple sips of his iced americano he's his usual ball of energy sunshiny self; will have you up doing morning stretches and light calisthenics at 6:30am

every couple weeks y'all go to the nail salon together and get mani-pedis; he leaves the acrylics and jewels and glitter to you but the overall color scheme and design aesthetic for your nails match; takes like 17 pictures of your hands together to show off

loves cuddling up to you on the couch so you can play in his hair; like each time his head is resting on your chest and your hand is running through his hair lightly scratching at his scalp he swears he’s reached nirvana 

jimin:

will drag you out the house in the middle of winter to drive down to the beach and watch the sunset together; you’d be huddled up together you sat in between his legs leaning against him his arms draped around your neck pulling you into him; you’d stay there sitting in the sand even after the night settled in just talking until you were shivering and sniffling then he’d take you to a cafe to get some hot cocoa to warm up 

randomly calls you in the middle of the night bc he misses your voice; smiles the entire he’s getting scolded for scaring you bc you thought something was wrong bc he called you at 2am

kisses your forehead, nose, and lips in that order every time you part ways 

hates knowing there's other people staring at you so like if you're out together and wearing like a hoodie or something and he notices you're garnering attention he zips it all the way up and pulls your hood over your head and tightens the strings so no one can see you; in turn knows you hate the thought that other people even think of him so he pretends they don't even exist; like you can literally point somebody out and be like "omg aren't they so pretty" and he's gonna avert his eyes in the opposite direction won't even look and just be like "you're so pretty. there's only you"

number one advocate for a lazy morning; snuggles into you, his head on your chest trapping you in; looks up at you with a goofy smile and preens when you press a kiss to his forehead

squishes your cheeks in both his hands when you're being too cute for him to handle

like the true feminist he is, he supports your rights and wrongs!!; like you get into it with somebody and then tell him the story afterwards he's hyping you up the entire time telling you that you were right and what you should've done and what he would've done if he were you; he's just always gonna be on your side

riles you up just bc he likes the reactions you make when you’re irritated 

it’s tea city when it comes to you two; like whatever you know he knows and whatever he knows you know; gossiping is actually one of your favorite bonding activities; he likes to play it up and drag it out whenever he finds something out; like he’s gonna text you and be like UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!!!! and you’ll be like WHAT and he’ll be like I HAVE TO TELL YOU IN PERSON OMG!!!! 😱 when it’s like noon knowing darn well he not getting off work until 10pm at the earliest 😭

likes to go with you when you have to “run errands” bc it’s usually just you doing girl things like getting coffee and then going to the store to buy snacks and skincare and he thinks it’s really adorable how you light up when you see small things in cute packages

taehyung:

has a series of like 12 hour logs in his phone recents list bc he stay falling asleep on facetime

makes it a point to hang out with your male friends just to assert dominance; doesn't matter if they have partners of their own or are completely uninterested in you he still wants to look them in their eye, shake their hand, and then put his arm around you to tie up any loose ends that may be dangling around

helps you pick the eyelashes out of your eye whenever one gets stuck

asks you to come over with the sole purpose of convincing you to take a nap with him; will straight up lie on the phone and tell you he wanna hang out and do this and that and then when you get over there he like let’s nap first; your cuddles just gon do it for him every time

uses kisses as bargaining chips; like if you need him to do something like idk take out the trash he's only gonna do it if you give him 3 kisses so you give him one as a down payment and the other 2 after he completes the task; (he was always gonna do what you asked but kisses make everything better)

likes to keep his hands free when he's out and about so he's always adding extra stuff to your purse; because he's always in your bag, he knows its exact content; you'll be frantically searching for your lip gloss and he'll ask what you're looking for and when you tell him he'll pull it out of some random side pocket he moved it to so he could make room for his stuff

will randomly wake up out of his sleep and call you just bc you crossed his mind; takes like 30 seconds to respond to anything you say bc he only half awake; the call lasts for like three minutes before he hangs up to go back to sleep 

as a big fan of roleplay at least once in your relationship he's gonna make y'all get all dressed up and go to a bar separately and act like strangers and he's gonna pretend to pick you up

if you sent him out to pick up period products last minute he’s the type that ask if you wanted lemon or lime flavor bc one package is yellow and the other is green 😭; alternatively would ask what’s your coochie size when he noticed the numbers on it

he’s not gonna let you win at any game you play; doesn’t matter how much you whine and pout he likes winning too much; god forbid you’re actually good at something he’s gonna try his very hardest and will even practice so that he eventually beats you; will give you all the prizes tho

jungkook:

if he gets bored while you’re asleep he’s gonna start messing with you; his favorite go to games are flicking your bottom lip until you tuck it in or start to gain consciousness and stacking cheerios on your forehead; his personal best is 9 of em 

hooks his chin over your shoulder to be nosy when you’re watching something on your phone that catches his attention

he understands that you’re not as nocturnal as he is but sometimes when you stay over at his place and he feels restless he can’t help but crave your attention; will wake you up at 4am gently with kisses so you can try some of the food he made; you’ll be half asleep with him kneeling in front of you feeding you some spicy noodles; he’ll patiently wait for you to finish chewing before he asks you if it’s good; makes you take at least one more bite before kissing your forehead and letting you go back to sleep; tucks himself up next to you about an hour later after he finishes cleaning up after himself 

you make funny tiktoks together; they never leave the drafts of course except for when he finds it particularly hilarious and sends it in the group chat 

threatens to beat up anyone who upsets you; like you tell him a story about someone who was upsetting you at work and his first response is "bring them to me. i'll take care of it"; and lord don't let someone get carried away at a club or something like if a guy starts hitting on you and won't take no for an answer before you can even tell them off he's already at the scene one shove away from being breaking news on every media outlet in the world

gets pouty when you have a night out without him but he understands the need for balance so doesn’t put up too much of a fight; his only stipulation is that if you can’t make it home on your own or your friends can’t drop you off that you always always call him; the thought of you getting into some randos car late at night when you’re not even mentally there all the way sends chills up his spine; he can’t sleep unless he knows you’re at home safe and sound anyway 

doesn't consciously have a preference for how you dress like he thinks you look good in whatever but you in a dress or a skirt itches a particular part of his id that would have carl jung doing backflips; like whenever you pop out in a dress or a skirt he's coming up to you and giving you a kiss on the lips while his arms wrap around your waist and 10-30 seconds later they're dropping down and his hands are toying with the ends of your garment and grazing your thighs underneath it; it just does it for him every time

you're his safe place <333; he goes through periods where you're the only person he wants to see; he will scare you half to death like you'll get off work and go home and you hear all this noise and whole time it's him in your kitchen making sandwiches for lunch; will make up for scaring you by tucking your face into his neck while his arms are wrapped tightly around you so he can breathe you in and then cupping your face and giving you kisses; you're his baby

you have matching hyperfixations; like one of you will get into something and won’t shut up about it and then being the supportive partner you are whenever you’re on social media you send the posts you stumble across to them; but then the algorithm picks up on it and the content keeps popping so often that you actually start being entertained by it too; then y’all won’t shut up about it and have inside jokes and no one ever knows what y’all are talking about bc it’s so deep down into the referential millennial dadaism

gets offended if you’re walking side by side and not touching in some way; like if you start walking ahead of him or something he’s gonna clear his throat very pointedly and when you look at him like ???? he’s gonna look at you like you’re stupid and pull you into him where you belong 

a/n: as promised she is back 🫡 thank you to everyone who encouraged me to repost 💕 pls continue to be kind my mental state is probably worse than it was before LOL

[gukcnt]

۶ৎ FLAVORS OF DESIRE —

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he says, his voice low, almost a growl, thick with emotion. “Every time you walk in here, all quiet and shy, I lose my fucking mind. I’ve been trying so hard to keep my distance, but you… you’re under my skin.”

pairing: boss dom!seokjin x employee sub!femreader

genre: workplace romance, restaurant owner!jin, chef!jin, shy!reader, waitress!reader, professinol setting, candlelit ambiance, storm setting, pining, forced proximity, romance, smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, explicit smut, angry!jin, desperate!jin, possessive!jin, tension and attraction, subtle touches, weather build up, power outrage, emotional vulnerability, confessions, seokjins revelations, intimate dialogue, storm induced isolation, slight mentions of blood, post storm calm, internal conflict, oral sex (f. receiving), eating out, tongue fucking, clit stimulation, face riding, face sitting, cum swallowing, hair fisting, making out, hickies/marking, praise kink, dirty talk, longing, desperation, semipublic sex, missionary sex on countertop, back shots, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, creampie, rough sex, tender sex, unprotected sex, partially clothed sex, breast play, nipple play, nipple sucking, fingering, power dynamics, desperate/passionate sex, emotional intimacy during sex, overstimulation, body worship, oral sex (m. receiving), cock palming, cock sucking, face fucking, cock worship, several physical and emotional reactions during sex, begging, crying, teasing, erotic vulnerability, post sex tenderness, emotional confessions and bonding, aftercare

wc: 10k

masterlist

۶ৎ

The restaurant, "Jin’s Table" throbs with a life of its own, a living organism fueled by the clatter of porcelain, the sizzle of pans, and the low hum of voices weaving through the air. The dining room is a tapestry of sensory overload: the sharp tang of roasted garlic mingles with the earthy richness of truffle oil, while the faint sweetness of caramelized onions curls like a whisper through the chaos. Candlelight flickers on polished tabletops, casting golden reflections that dance across wine glasses, their ruby and amber contents shimmering like liquid jewels. The walls, adorned with abstract art in muted golds and reds, seem to pulse with the rhythm of the evening rush, absorbing the laughter of diners and the clink of silverware into their very grain.

You stand at the edge of this orchestrated madness, a shy waitress in a crisp black uniform, your apron tied tightly around your waist as if it could anchor your fluttering nerves. Your name tag, a small silver rectangle pinned to your chest, reads “Y/N,” but you feel like a ghost, slipping through the vibrant chaos unnoticed—except by him. Your hands, clammy with anxiety, smooth the apron repeatedly, a nervous tic you can’t suppress. The fabric is slightly rough under your fingertips, grounding you as your heart races in the presence of the restaurant’s beating heart: Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin, the owner and head chef, is a force of nature, a storm contained in human form. He commands the kitchen with the precision of a general, his broad shoulders filling out his tailored chef’s coat, the white fabric stretched taut across his back. His dark hair, swept back under a black bandana, glistens faintly with sweat under the harsh kitchen lights, and his sharp jawline catches the glow as he moves. His voice, deep and authoritative, slices through the din of sizzling oil and clanging pots, barking orders with a clarity that demands obedience. “Faster on the garnish, Min! The risotto’s plating in two!” he calls, his tone brooking no argument. Yet, when he steps into the dining room to greet guests, his demeanor shifts like a chameleon. His smile is a weapon, disarming and warm, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he charms a table of regulars. You’ve seen women lean forward, their cheeks flushed, their laughter too bright, their gazes lingering on the way his lips curve or the confident tilt of his head.

You’ve been at "Jin’s Table" for six months, and every shift feels like walking a tightrope over a chasm of your own making. Seokjin—"Mr. Kim" to you—is both your anchor and your undoing. It’s not just his striking looks, though his high cheekbones, full lips, and the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw are enough to make your breath catch. It’s the way he sees you, his gaze lingering a heartbeat too long when you approach the pass to collect an order, his voice softening imperceptibly when he says your name. “Y/N, table six is ready for their mains,” he’ll say, and the way his eyes hold yours, dark and unreadable, makes your skin prickle with heat.

Tonight, the restaurant is at its peak, the dinner rush a whirlwind of motion. You’re balancing a tray of delicate wine glasses, their stems cool and fragile in your hands, when his voice cuts through the noise like a blade. “Y/N, I need you at the pass. Now.” The command is sharp, urgent, and your stomach lurches, a mix of dread and anticipation. You set the tray down on a sideboard, the glasses clinking softly, and wipe your sweaty palms on your apron, the coarse fabric catching on your skin. Your pulse hammers in your throat as you weave through the bustling dining room, dodging a server carrying a steaming plate of osso buco, its rich, marrow-laden aroma trailing in her wake.

The kitchen is a furnace, a wall of heat slamming into you as you cross the threshold. The air is heavy with the metallic tang of seared meat, the bright zest of lemon, and the faint smokiness of charred herbs. Stainless steel counters gleam under fluorescent lights, littered with mise en place: tiny bowls of chopped parsley, slivers of garlic, and vibrant pools of olive oil catching the light like liquid gold. The sous-chefs move in a frenetic ballet, their knives flashing as they dice vegetables, their faces slick with sweat. Seokjin stands at the heart of it all, leaning against the pass with a towel slung over one shoulder, its white fabric stained with faint streaks of sauce. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms dusted with flour, the muscles flexing as he adjusts his stance. His presence is magnetic, drawing your gaze despite your efforts to focus on the task.

“You’re moving too slow out there,” he says, his tone firm but laced with something softer, a thread of concern that makes your chest tighten. His eyes, dark and piercing, flick over you, taking in the flush in your cheeks, the way your hands fidget at your sides. “Table twelve’s been waiting ten minutes for their appetizers. Pick up the pace, Y/N.”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you stammer, your voice barely audible over the hiss of a nearby sauté pan. Your cheeks burn, the heat of embarrassment mingling with the kitchen’s oppressive warmth. You step forward to collect the plates he’s prepared, your eyes darting to the food: a vibrant bruschetta, the tomatoes glistening with olive oil, their ruby hue vivid against the toasted bread; a seared scallop, its golden crust nestled in a pool of saffron cream, the aroma delicate yet intoxicating. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the plates, the porcelain warm from the kitchen’s heat, and his hand brushes yours as he steadies one before it tips.

The contact is fleeting but electric, a spark that shoots through your veins, making your breath catch. His skin is warm, slightly rough from hours of handling knives and pans, and the brief touch leaves your hand tingling. “Careful,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble that feels meant for you alone. “I don’t want my food hitting the floor.” His lips curve into a half-smile, not quite a smirk but close, and his eyes hold yours for a moment too long, their depths glinting with something unreadable—amusement, curiosity, or perhaps something hungrier.

You nod, your throat too tight to form words, and clutch the plates to your chest like a shield. As you turn to leave, you feel his gaze on your back, a tangible weight that follows you through the swinging doors into the dining room. Your heart pounds, a wild rhythm that drowns out the chatter of the guests as you deliver the appetizers to table twelve. Their compliments—“This bruschetta is divine!” “The scallop melts in your mouth!”—barely register, your mind consumed by the memory of his touch, the way his voice wrapped around your name like a caress.

Back at the server station, you pause, pressing a hand to your chest as if you could slow your racing pulse. The dining room buzzes around you, but all you can see is Seokjin’s face, the intensity of his stare, the way his presence lingers like the aftertaste of one of his dishes—complex, unforgettable, and dangerously addictive.

“Y/N, you okay?” another server, Mina, asks, her brow furrowed as she refills a water pitcher. Her voice is kind, but it feels distant, like it’s coming from underwater.

“Y-Yeah,” you lie, forcing a smile that feels brittle. “Just… busy.”

She nods, unconvinced, but doesn’t press. You turn back to your tasks, wiping down a table, the cloth gliding over the smooth wood, but your thoughts are in the kitchen, with him. You wonder if he’s watching you now, through the small window in the kitchen door, his eyes tracking your every move. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and longing that you don’t dare name.

“Get it together, Y/N,” you whisper to yourself, your voice swallowed by the restaurant’s pulse. But as you move through the rest of your shift, the weight of Seokjin’s gaze, the echo of his voice, and the ghost of his touch cling to you, a promise of something yet to come, simmering just beneath the surface.

The air carries a constant hum of life, a blend of sizzling butter, fragrant herbs, and the faint tang of red wine reductions that cling to the walls like a second skin. The dining room buzzes with the clink of glasses, the murmur of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter from a table of regulars. Your hands tremble slightly as you clear a table, stacking plates with meticulous care, the porcelain cool against your fingertips. Every movement feels scrutinized, not by the patrons, but by him, the man who commands this place like a king.

His presence is inescapable, his gaze a weight you feel even when you’re not looking. It’s in the way he watches you from the kitchen pass when you deliver an order, his eyes lingering on the curve of your wrist as you set down a plate. It’s in the way his voice softens when he says your name, a subtle shift that makes your pulse race. “Y/N, table six needs more water,” he’ll say, and the way his lips form the words feels like a secret meant only for you. You’re painfully aware of him, your body betraying you with every flushed cheek, every fumbled response.

Tonight, the restaurant is in full swing, the dinner rush a relentless tide. You’re wiping down a table, the rag damp and cool in your hand, when you feel it—that prickle at the back of your neck. You don’t need to turn to know he’s watching. Slowly, you glance over your shoulder, and there he is, leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, his chef’s coat unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of tanned skin at his collarbone. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but they pin you in place, a predator sizing up prey. Your breath catches, and you drop the rag, the soft thud loud in your ears. You bend to pick it up, your fingers brushing the polished wood floor, and when you straighten, he’s still watching, his gaze heavier now, tracing the line of your body as you rise.

Your cheeks burn, and you turn away, busying yourself with refilling a water pitcher. The glass is cold against your palms, the water sloshing softly, but it does nothing to cool the heat spreading through you. You’re shy, cripplingly so, and every interaction with him is a battle against your own nerves. Last week, he’d asked you to taste a new dish—a velvety butternut squash soup, the spoon warm from his hand as he held it out to you. The flavor had burst on your tongue, rich and earthy, but all you could manage was a stammered, “It’s… really good, Mr. Kim,” your eyes fixed on the floor. He’d chuckled, the sound low and warm, and said, “You’re too quiet, Y/N. I want to hear more from you.” The words had haunted you for days, replaying in your mind as you lay in bed, your heart racing at the memory of his voice.

Now, as you carry the pitcher to a table, you feel his eyes again, a caress that follows you across the room. You pour water for a couple, your hands steady despite the tremor in your chest, and when you turn, he’s closer, standing at the edge of the dining room, wiping his hands on a towel. The movement is casual, but there’s nothing casual about the way he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your lips before flicking back to your eyes. You freeze, the pitcher heavy in your hands, and he steps forward, closing the distance.

“You’re doing well tonight,” he says, his voice low, meant for you alone. The words are simple, but they land like a touch, sending a shiver down your spine. The dining room fades, the chatter and clatter dimming until it’s just him—his scent, a mix of cedar cologne and the faint smokiness of the kitchen; his warmth, radiating even from a foot away; his eyes, searching yours with an intensity that makes your throat dry.

“T-Thank you, Mr. Kim,” you mumble, your voice barely audible. You clutch the pitcher tighter, your knuckles whitening, and his lips twitch, not quite a smile but something sharper, hungrier.

“You don’t have to be so nervous,” he says, stepping closer still. The towel dangles from his hand, brushing your arm as he leans in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I’m not as intimidating as you think.” His breath grazes your ear, and you feel it in your core, a pulse of heat that makes your thighs press together instinctively.

You swallow, your mouth dry, and force yourself to meet his eyes. They’re molten, dark and deep, and for a moment, you’re drowning in them. “I… I just want to do a good job,” you say, the words shaky but honest. Your heart pounds, loud enough you’re sure he can hear it.

His gaze softens, but there’s an edge to it, a flicker of something raw. “You do,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But I want more than that. I want to know you, Y/N. Not just the waitress who blushes every time I look at her.” His fingers brush your wrist, a fleeting touch that sears your skin, and you gasp softly, the sound swallowed by the noise of the restaurant.

“I’m… I’m not good at this,” you admit, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “Talking to you… it’s hard. You’re so…” You trail off, unable to find the words, but he doesn’t need them.

“Too much?” he asks, his tone laced with something like regret, but his eyes are still locked on you, unrelenting. “Or not enough?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flaming. “Too… everything,” you whisper, and it’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said to him. His expression shifts, a crack in his composure, and for a moment, you see it—the want, the frustration, the way he’s been holding himself back.

“Then let me make it easier,” he says, his voice rough with restraint. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… let me see you. Really see you.” His hand hovers near your face, as if he’s tempted to touch you again, but he pulls back, his jaw tightening. “Go back to your tables. But don’t think I’m done with you.”

The words are a promise, heavy with intent, and they linger as you nod, your legs unsteady as you turn away. The pitcher trembles in your hands, water sloshing over the rim, and you set it down before you drop it. The rest of your shift is a blur, your body moving on autopilot while your mind replays every word, every glance. You feel his eyes on you still, even when you’re not looking—when you’re serving dessert, when you’re clearing plates, when you’re wiping down the bar. It’s a tether, pulling you back to him, and the weight of it is both terrifying and thrilling.

Later, in the break room, you’re alone, sipping water from a plastic cup, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the fire in your chest. The room is small, the walls lined with lockers, the air smelling faintly of coffee and cleaning supplies. You’re leaning against the counter, your uniform slightly wrinkled, when the door swings open. Seokjin steps inside, and the space shrinks, the air thickening with his presence.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, his chef’s coat unbuttoned further now, revealing the taut lines of his chest. His hair is slightly mussed, the bandana gone, and he looks less like the untouchable chef and more like a man unraveling. “You’re hiding,” he says finally, his voice low, almost accusatory.

“I’m not,” you lie, your voice soft, your eyes fixed on the cup in your hands. The plastic crinkles as you grip it tighter.

He steps closer, and you feel the heat of him, the scent of him, wrapping around you. “You are,” he says, his tone softer now, but no less intense. “You’re always hiding. From me. From this.” He gestures vaguely, but you know what he means—the pull between you, the unspoken thing that’s been building for months.

“I don’t mean to,” you say, your voice breaking. You look up at him, and it’s a mistake—his eyes are too much, too raw, stripping you bare. “I just… I don’t know how to handle you.”

His laugh is low, bitter, and it cuts through you. “Handle me?” he echoes, stepping so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. “Y/N, I’m the one trying to handle you. Every time you walk by, every time you stammer my name, it takes everything in me not to—” He stops, his jaw clenching, his hands flexing at his sides.

“Not to what?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, but there’s a challenge in it, a spark of courage you didn’t know you had.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, you think he won’t answer. But then he leans in, his voice a growl, his words dripping with need. “Not to pull you into my office and find out exactly how you taste. Not to make you say my name until you can’t stop.” His gaze drops to your lips, and you feel it like a touch, your body responding before your mind can catch up—your breath quickening, your nipples tightening against your bra, a pulse of heat between your thighs.

You’re trembling, your shyness warring with the want coursing through you. “Seokjin…” you breathe, and it’s the first time you’ve said his name like that, soft and desperate, and it breaks something in him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hand raking through his hair. “You can’t say my name like that and expect me to stay calm.” He steps back, putting space between you, but the air is still charged, crackling with what neither of you will fully say.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your default response, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice softer now, laced with something like pain. “Just… don’t hide from me anymore. I can’t stand it.”

You nod, unable to speak, and he turns to leave, his shoulders tense. The door swings shut behind him, and you’re alone again, the cup still in your hands, now crumpled from your grip. Your heart pounds, your body alive with the memory of his words, his closeness. The break room feels too small, too quiet, and you know nothing will be the same after this—not your shifts, not your thoughts, not the way you look at him. He’s seen you, and now, you’re not sure you can ever hide again.

The night is heavy with the weight of an approaching storm, the air thick and charged as if the world itself is holding its breath. "Jin’s Table" is a ghost of its usual vibrancy, the dining room nearly deserted, its polished wooden tables gleaming faintly under the dim glow of the overhead lights. The last patrons, a couple sharing a bottle of merlot, hurry out into the night, their coats pulled tight against the first sharp gusts of wind. You watch them go, your hands nervously wiping a damp cloth over an already spotless table, the faint scent of lemon polish clinging to your fingers. Outside, the sky is a bruised purple, clouds roiling like a restless sea, and the distant rumble of thunder sends a shiver down your spine.

You’re alone in the dining room, the other staff dismissed early due to the slow night and the looming weather. The restaurant feels too big, too quiet, the only sounds the soft creak of the floorboards and the occasional clatter from the kitchen where Mr. Kim—is still at work. Your heart skitters at the thought of him, as it always does. He’s been a constant presence in your mind since you started working here, his commanding presence and piercing gaze unraveling you in ways you can’t articulate. You’re shy, painfully so, and every interaction with him leaves you flushed and fumbling, your words tripping over themselves under the weight of his attention.

“Y/N!” His voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and authoritative, yet laced with a warmth that makes your stomach flip. “Get in here. I need you to help close up.”

You drop the cloth, your hands trembling as you smooth your apron, the black fabric suddenly feeling too tight against your skin. The kitchen door looms like a threshold to another world, and you push through it, the heat hitting you like a physical force. The air is thick with the lingering scents of the night’s service—roasted garlic, seared herbs, the faint tang of reduced wine. The stoves are off, but the residual warmth clings to the stainless steel counters, and the space hums with the faint buzz of appliances. Seokjin stands at the center of it all, a towering figure in his chef’s coat, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms dusted with flour. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, a few strands falling across his forehead, and his bandana is loosened, giving him a rugged, almost dangerous edge.

“Everyone’s gone,” he says, not looking up from the skillet he’s scrubbing, the muscles in his arms flexing with each vigorous motion. “It’s just us. Start stacking those plates.” His tone is clipped, professional, but there’s an undercurrent to it, something that makes your pulse race.

“Yes, Mr. Kim,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the growing howl of the wind outside. You move to the stack of dirty plates, your fingers brushing against the smooth porcelain, still warm from the dishwasher’s heat. The kitchen feels smaller with just the two of you, the space shrinking under the weight of his presence. You’re hyper-aware of every sound—his steady breaths, the soft scrape of his sponge, the drip of water from the faucet. Your skin prickles, and you keep your eyes fixed on the plates, afraid to meet his gaze, afraid of what you might see there.

The storm outside grows louder, the wind rattling the windows, rain beginning to lash against the glass in sharp, staccato bursts. Thunder rolls, closer now, a deep growl that vibrates through the floor. You stack the plates carefully, your hands unsteady, your heart a wild thing in your chest. You can feel him watching you, his gaze a tangible weight, and it makes your movements clumsy, your fingers fumbling.

And then, with a sudden flicker, the lights stutter. A loud pop echoes through the kitchen, and the world plunges into darkness. You gasp, the plate in your hands slipping from your grip. It hits the floor with a shattering crash, the sound sharp and jarring in the suffocating silence. Your breath catches, your body freezing as the darkness swallows you whole. The air feels heavier now, charged with the electric hum of the storm and something else—something alive and pulsing between you and Seokjin.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Mr. Kim,” you stammer, your voice high and panicked, your hands fluttering uselessly in the air. The darkness is disorienting, the kitchen a maze of shadows, and you feel exposed, vulnerable, like the night has stripped away your defenses. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

“Easy,” Seokjin’s voice cuts through your panic, calm but closer than you expect, a low rumble that grounds you. You feel the heat of him before you see him, his presence looming as he steps nearer, his hand brushing your arm in the dark. The contact is brief but searing, a spark that ignites your nerves, sending a jolt through your body. “It’s just a plate. Stay still.”

His voice is steady, but there’s a roughness to it, an edge that makes your heart stutter. You hear the rustle of fabric, the soft scrape of his boots against the tile, and then a faint click. A tiny flame flares to life as he lights a match, the glow illuminating his face in sharp relief. His features are striking in the flickering light—his sharp jawline, the curve of his lips, the intensity in his eyes as they lock onto yours. He moves to a candle from the dining room’s stock, one of the heavy glass votives used for ambiance, and sets it on the counter. The flame steadies, casting a warm, golden glow that dances across the stainless steel surfaces, painting the kitchen in shifting shadows.

The candlelight softens the harsh lines of the room but does nothing to ease the tension coiling in your chest. Seokjin’s eyes are still on you, dark and unreadable, and you feel like prey caught in a predator’s gaze. Your cheeks burn, your breath shallow, and you kneel to pick up the broken pieces of the plate, desperate for something to do with your hands. The shards are sharp, glinting in the candlelight, and you wince as one pricks your finger, a tiny bead of blood welling up.

“Leave it,” Seokjin says, his voice low and commanding, almost a growl. He crouches beside you, his body close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, smell the faint musk of his sweat mixed with the clean scent of his cologne. His hand closes over yours, firm but gentle, stopping you from touching the shards. “You’ll cut yourself.”

You freeze, your hand trapped in his, the roughness of his calloused fingers a stark contrast to your soft skin. The candlelight flickers, casting shadows that dance across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes, the slight part of his lips. Your heart pounds, the sound loud in your ears, drowning out the storm. The air between you crackles, thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged desire. You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you don’t look away, drawn into the depths of his eyes like a moth to a flame.

“Mr. Kim…” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the rain’s relentless drumming. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, only that his name feels like a plea, a confession, a surrender.

“Seokjin,” he corrects, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a slow, deliberate caress that sends a shiver down your spine. “Call me Seokjin.”

You swallow, your throat dry, your lips parting as you try to form the word. “Seokjin,” you repeat, and it feels intimate, forbidden, like crossing a line you can’t uncross. His eyes darken, a storm of their own brewing in their depths, and his grip on your hand tightens, his breath hitching.

“You’re shaking,” he says, his voice softer now, laced with something tender yet possessive. He shifts closer, his knee brushing yours, the contact sending a spark through you. “Are you scared?”

You shake your head, your voice caught in your throat. “No,” you manage, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s… it’s not that.”

“Then what?” he presses, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your cheek. The candlelight catches the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the sharp angle of his cheekbone. “Tell me, Y/N. What’s got you trembling like this?”

Your heart lurches, the weight of his question pressing against the fragile walls you’ve built around your feelings. The storm outside mirrors the chaos inside you, the wind howling, the rain pounding, urging you to let go. “It’s you,” you admit, your voice breaking, raw with vulnerability. “You make me nervous. You… you make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”

His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise breaking through the intensity. For a moment, he’s silent, the only sound the storm’s relentless assault and the soft crackle of the candle. Then he exhales, a shaky breath that betrays the control he’s been holding onto. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he says, his voice low, almost a growl, thick with emotion. “Every time you walk in here, all quiet and shy, I lose my fucking mind. I’ve been trying so hard to keep my distance, but you… you’re under my skin.”

Your breath catches, your body trembling not from the cold but from the raw honesty in his words, the hunger in his eyes. The candlelight flickers, casting fleeting shadows that make the moment feel surreal, like a dream you’re afraid to wake from. “I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing. “I thought… I thought you didn’t see me like that.”

He laughs, a low, bitter sound that cuts through the tension. “Not see you? Y/N, I can’t stop seeing you. Every time you smile, every time you blush, it’s like a punch to the gut. I’ve wanted you since the day you walked in here, and it’s been killing me to hold back.”

The confession hangs between you, heavy and electric, the air crackling with the weight of it. You’re still crouched together, the broken plate forgotten, the storm raging outside a distant echo compared to the storm within. His hand is still on yours, his touch an anchor, and you feel the pull of him, the inevitable gravity drawing you closer.

“Seokjin,” you say again, his name a prayer on your lips, and it’s like a dam breaking. His eyes flare with something wild, something desperate, and he leans closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath mingling with yours in the candlelit dark.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his voice a plea and a command, raw with need. “Say my name.”

“Seokjin,” you breathe, and it’s the last word you manage before the space between you collapses, the storm outside fading into nothingness as the real tempest begins.

The air crackles, the storm outside a mere echo of the tempest between you. You’re still crouched together, but the space feels smaller, the world narrowing to the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the intensity of his gaze. Your hand is still in his, but now your fingers curl around his, a silent acceptance, a bridge crossed.

He moves first, a sudden, decisive shift, his hands releasing yours to cup your face, his palms warm and rough against your cheeks. His touch is firm, possessive, but there’s a tenderness in the way his thumbs brush your skin, like he’s memorizing you. His eyes search yours, a final question, and then his lips crash into yours, a kiss that’s all hunger and heat, a dam breaking after months of restraint.

The kiss is a revelation, a collision of need and desperation. His lips are soft but demanding, moving against yours with a rhythm that steals your breath. You taste salt, a hint of the wine he sipped earlier, and the raw edge of his desire. His tongue teases the seam of your lips, and you open for him, a soft whimper escaping as he deepens the kiss, claiming you with every stroke. Your hands clutch his chef’s coat, the fabric coarse under your fingers, anchoring you as the world tilts.

He pulls you to your feet, his hands sliding to your waist, pressing you against the counter. The edge digs into your lower back, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body, the way his chest presses against yours. His lips leave yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, and you gasp as he nips the sensitive skin just below your ear, his teeth grazing, his breath hot and ragged. The sensation is electric, your body arching into him, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath.

“Tell me to stop,” he growls, his voice thick with need, vibrating against your skin. “Tell me, Y/N, and I’ll walk away right now. I’ll let you go, I swear.”

The words are a plea, a last thread of control, but you hear the strain in them, the way he’s fighting himself. His hands tighten on your waist, his fingers digging into your hips, and you feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, a hard promise that makes your core ache.

“Don’t,” you breathe, your voice a desperate thread, your hands pulling him closer, your nails scraping his scalp as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t stop, Seokjin. Please, I want this. I want you.”

His groan is raw, a sound of surrender, and he kisses you again, fiercer this time, his hands roaming with purpose. One slides up your side, brushing the curve of your breast, and you moan into his mouth, your body trembling with need. The candle flickers, its light a fragile witness to the storm breaking between you, and the kitchen fades, the world reduced to the heat of his touch, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice whispering your name like a prayer.

The kitchen is a crucible of heat and shadow, the air heavy with the mingled scents of rain-soaked earth seeping through the windows and the sharp tang of arousal that clings to your skin. The single candle on the counter burns low, its flame a trembling pulse of gold that casts flickering shadows across the stainless steel surfaces, painting Seokjin’s face in stark contrasts of light and dark. His eyes, molten with hunger, hold you captive as he lifts you onto the counter, the cold steel biting into the backs of your thighs, a sharp counterpoint to the fire racing through your veins. Your uniform skirt rides up, the fabric bunching around your hips, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to his gaze. His hands, calloused from years of wielding knives and searing pans, find your thighs, his touch both possessive and reverent, as though he’s claiming you and worshiping you in the same breath.

Your blouse hangs open, the buttons undone by his deft fingers, and the lace of your bra is a fragile barrier against the heat of his stare. Your nipples, already hard, strain against the fabric, aching for his touch, and when his thumbs brush over them, the sensation is a lightning strike, a jolt that arches your back and draws a soft whimper from your lips. The sound seems to unravel something in him, his breath hitching as he leans closer, his lips hovering just above yours. “Fuck, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, thick with need and something deeper, something that feels like longing. “You’re so responsive. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

Your cheeks burn, your shyness warring with the desire that coils tight in your core. “I… I feel it too,” you whisper, your voice trembling but honest, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “I’ve always felt it, Seokjin.”

His eyes darken, a storm brewing behind them, and he cups your face, his thumbs tracing the curve of your jaw. “You’ve been hiding from me,” he says, his tone a mix of accusation and awe. “All this time, you’ve been right here, and I’ve been losing my mind trying to keep my hands off you.” His voice cracks on the last word, and the vulnerability in it pierces you, stripping away the last of your defenses.

“I was scared,” you admit, your hands clutching the front of his chef’s coat, the fabric rough under your fingers, grounding you in the moment. “You’re… you’re you. And I’m just—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, his voice sharp, almost commanding. “Don’t you dare say you’re just anything. You’re everything I’ve been wanting, Y/N. Every shy smile, every nervous glance—it’s been driving me fucking insane.” He kisses you then, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that steals your breath, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming every inch of you. The kiss is a storm, all heat and hunger, his teeth grazing your lower lip, drawing a moan that he swallows greedily.

His hands roam, sliding under your blouse to cup your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples through the lace. The sensation is overwhelming, a sweet ache that radiates through you, making your pussy clench with need. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and when he pulls the bra down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, you gasp, your skin prickling with goosebumps. “Beautiful,” he breathes, his voice reverent, his eyes drinking in the sight of you like you’re a feast laid out just for him. He dips his head, his lips closing over one nipple, sucking gently, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. The wet heat of his mouth is a shock, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into the muscle beneath his shirt as you arch into him, a cry spilling from your lips.

“Seokjin,” you gasp, your voice breaking, and he hums against your skin, the vibration sending sparks straight to your core. His other hand kneads your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers, and the dual assault has you trembling, your thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to ease the ache between them. He notices, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin, and he pulls back, his eyes glinting with mischief and promise.

“Needy, aren’t you?” he teases, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. His hands slide down your sides, leaving trails of heat, and grip your thighs, spreading them wider. Your skirt is a crumpled afterthought, your panties damp and clinging to your folds, and when his fingers brush over the fabric, you jolt, a whimper escaping you. “So fucking wet,” he growls, his voice thick with approval, and the sound alone makes your pussy pulse, slick with want. He slips a finger beneath the fabric, tracing the seam of your folds, and the slow, deliberate touch is torture, your hips bucking to chase his hand.

“Please,” you beg, your voice raw, your shyness burned away by the fire in your blood. “Seokjin, I need you.”

His eyes flash, and he yanks your panties down, the fabric tearing slightly as he tosses it aside. The cool air hits your heated core, and you moan, your pussy glistening in the candlelight, exposed and aching for him. He kneels between your legs, his broad shoulders filling the space, and the sight of him there, his face inches from your most intimate place, is almost too much. His breath is hot against your folds, and when his tongue flicks out, lapping at your clit, you cry out, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

He devours you, his tongue swirling over your clit, sucking gently, then dipping lower to taste your slick heat. The sensation is a tidal wave, pleasure crashing over you with every stroke, every curl of his tongue. His fingers join in, two sliding inside you, stretching you, curling against that sweet spot that makes your vision blur. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers fill the kitchen, mingling with your moans and the distant rumble of thunder, a symphony of want and surrender. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, desperate for more, and he groans, the sound vibrating against your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against you, his voice muffled but fervent, and the words are a spark, igniting the coil of tension in your core. “I could eat you all night, Y/N. But I want you to come for me first.”

“Seokjin, I’m—” Your words dissolve into a moan as he sucks hard on your clit, his fingers thrusting faster, relentless. Your orgasm builds, a white-hot wave, and when it breaks, it’s shattering, your body convulsing, your pussy pulsing around his fingers, your cries echoing in the empty kitchen. He doesn’t stop, lapping at you through the aftershocks, drawing out every shudder, every gasp, until you’re boneless, trembling, your hands limp in his hair.

He stands, his lips glistening with your release, and kisses you, deep and possessive, letting you taste the tang of yourself on his tongue. The kiss is a promise, a claim, and you cling to him, your hands fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him. “I need you inside me,” you whisper, your voice raw with need, and he groans, his hands helping you free his cock.

It’s thick, hard, the skin velvet-soft under your fingers as you stroke him, marveling at the weight, the heat. Pre-cum beads at the tip, and you swipe your thumb over it, making him hiss, his hips jerking. “Fuck, Y/N,” he gasps, his voice breaking, and the sound of his need fuels your own. You sink to your knees, the tile cold against your skin, and take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling over the tip, tasting the salt of him. His hands grip your hair, guiding you, his breaths ragged as you take him deeper, your lips stretching around him, your throat relaxing to accommodate his size.

“You’re so good,” he groans, his voice a mix of awe and desperation. “So fucking perfect.” You hum around him, the vibration making him curse, his hips thrusting gently, testing your limits. You take him as deep as you can, your hands stroking what your mouth can’t reach, and his control frays, his grip tightening, his voice a litany of praise and need.

He pulls you up before he loses it, kissing you fiercely, his hands lifting you back onto the counter. “I need to be inside you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes searching yours. “I’ve waited too fucking long for this.”

“Then don’t wait anymore,” you say, your voice steady despite the tremble.

The storm outside rages, rain lashing the windows in a relentless tattoo, but inside, the world narrows to the space between you and Seokjin. The flickering candlelight bathes the stainless-steel counters in a warm, amber glow, casting shadows that dance across your skin like whispered secrets. Your body hums with anticipation, every nerve alight as Seokjin stands between your thighs, his cock brushing your entrance, a teasing promise of what’s to come.

His eyes, dark and molten, lock onto yours, searching, questioning. The intensity in his gaze is almost too much, a raw hunger tempered by something softer, something that makes your heart ache. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh, grounding you in the moment. The counter beneath you is cold, a stark contrast to the heat of his body, the roughness of his chef’s coat brushing against your bare thighs where your skirt has ridden up.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and rough, laced with a vulnerability that catches you off guard. His breath is warm against your lips, carrying the faint taste of the wine he sipped earlier. “I need to hear it, Y/N. I need to know you want this as much as I do.”

Your chest tightens, emotions swirling—desire, fear, and a desperate need to be seen by him. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling but resolute. Your hands slide up his arms, feeling the taut muscle beneath the fabric, and you pull him closer, your fingers curling into his shoulders. “I want you, Seokjin. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

His breath hitches, a low groan escaping his throat, and the sound sends a shiver through you, your pussy clenching with need. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours for a fleeting moment, his breath mingling with yours. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Every fucking day, watching you, wanting you… it’s been torture.”

Before you can respond, he pushes inside you, slow and deliberate, stretching you with a delicious burn that makes you gasp. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock thick and heavy, filling you completely. Your walls flutter around him, slick with your arousal, and you clutch at his shirt, your nails scraping the fabric. The fullness is exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure, and you tilt your hips, urging him deeper.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice a ragged growl as he bottoms out, his hips flush against yours. “You feel so good, Y/N. So tight, so fucking perfect.” His words are a litany, each one stoking the fire in your core. He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust, his hands sliding up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. The tenderness in his touch contrasts with the raw need in his eyes, and it makes your heart stutter.

Then he moves, his thrusts deep and measured, each one driving him deeper, claiming you in a way that feels both primal and sacred. The counter creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with the wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin. Your pussy is soaked, the slickness easing his movements, and every thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, your clit throbbing with need. The candlelight catches the sheen of sweat on his brow, the sharp line of his jaw as he grits his teeth, fighting to maintain control.

“Seokjin,” you moan, your voice breaking, your head falling back as the pleasure builds. The air is heavy with the scent of your arousal, the faint spice of his cologne, the lingering aroma of roasted herbs from the kitchen. Your nipples are hard, straining against the lace of your bra, and he notices, his hand slipping beneath your blouse to pinch one gently, rolling it between his fingers. The sensation is electric, a direct line to your core, and you arch into him, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice a low rumble, laced with a dominance that makes your toes curl. You obey, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes nearly undoes you. “I want to see you when you come. I want to see every fucking thing.”

You nod, unable to speak, your body trembling as he picks up the pace, his thrusts harder now, more urgent. Each one hits that sweet spot inside you, the pressure building, coiling tight in your belly. His hand slides between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight, precise circles that make you cry out. The pleasure is blinding, a white-hot wave that threatens to consume you, and you grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, leaving crescent marks.

“Seokjin, I’m so close,” you gasp, your voice raw, your body shaking with the effort to hold on. “Please, I need—”

“Come for me,” he growls, his voice thick with need, his fingers relentless on your clit. “Let go, Y/N. Let me feel you.”

The command tips you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenches around him, pulsing wildly, and you scream his name, the sound echoing in the empty kitchen. Your vision blurs, stars bursting behind your eyelids, and your body shakes, every muscle taut as the pleasure wracks you. The sensation is overwhelming, your slick walls gripping him, pulling him deeper, and he groans, his control fraying.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps, his thrusts erratic now, his cock throbbing inside you. “You’re so tight, I can’t—” His words break off as he comes, his release hot and fierce, spilling inside you in thick, pulsing waves. His groan is primal, a raw sound of surrender, and his hips jerk, driving himself as deep as he can go. You feel every pulse, every shudder, your pussy milking him, drawing out his pleasure as your own lingers, a soft, tingling aftershock.

But he’s not done. Before you can catch your breath, he pulls out, his cock still hard, glistening with your combined release. He flips you over with a swift, commanding motion, bending you over the counter. The steel is cold against your breasts, your nipples scraping the surface through your bra, and you moan, your body still buzzing. Your hands grip the edge, knuckles white, as he spreads your legs, his hands rough on your thighs.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, reverent growl as he runs a hand over your ass, squeezing gently. “So fucking beautiful, dripping for me.” His fingers brush your pussy, teasing your oversensitive folds, and you whimper, your hips bucking involuntarily. You’re soaked, your arousal coating your thighs, and he groans at the sight, his cock twitching against you.

He enters you again, this time from behind, and the angle is devastating, his cock hitting deeper, stretching you in a way that makes you see stars. The sensation is almost too much, your pussy clenching around him, still sensitive from your orgasm. He thrusts hard, fast, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force, and the sound of his skin slapping yours fills the room, raw and unfiltered.

“Seokjin,” you moan, your voice trembling, your body surrendering completely. “It’s so much, I—”

“You can take it,” he growls, his voice thick with possession, his hand sliding up your spine to grip your hair, pulling gently. The tug sends a jolt through you, your pussy tightening around him, and he curses, his thrusts faltering. “You’re mine, Y/N. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, the words spilling out, raw and desperate. “Only yours, Seokjin.” The confession feels like a release, a truth you’ve been holding back for months, and it sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, your pussy dripping, coating his cock.

He groans, the sound almost pained, and his hand slips between you again, finding your clit. His fingers are relentless, rubbing in tight, frantic circles, and the pleasure is blinding, building too fast, too intense. “One more,” he commands, his voice rough with need. “Give me one more, baby.”

You can’t hold back, your body obeying before your mind catches up. Your second orgasm hits like a storm, your pussy spasming around him, your vision going white. You scream, your body collapsing against the counter, your legs shaking as the pleasure tears through you. The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve alight, your slick walls pulsing, gripping him so tightly he can barely move.

He follows, his release a hot, shuddering wave, his cock pulsing as he spills inside you again. His groan is raw, his body trembling against yours, his hands clutching your hips like a lifeline. “Y/N,” he gasps, his voice breaking, and the sound of your name on his lips, so raw and vulnerable, makes your heart ache.

You stay like that, breathless and entwined, the storm outside fading to a distant hum. The kitchen is warm, the air heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, the candlelight flickering weakly. Seokjin’s hands soften, sliding up your sides, and he pulls you upright, turning you to face him. His eyes are softer now, the hunger tempered by something deeper, something that makes your chest tighten.

“I’m not letting you go,” he says, his voice low but firm, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Not after this.”

You nod, your throat tight with emotion, and lean into his touch, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “I don’t want you to,” you whisper, and the words feel like a vow, sealing the night in the heat of the kitchen.

The storm has softened to a gentle murmur, the rain now a delicate patter against the restaurant’s windows, like a lullaby soothing the raw edges of the night. The kitchen, once a battleground of desire, is now a sanctuary, steeped in the lingering scents of melted candle wax, the faint musk of sex, and the earthy warmth of Seokjin’s skin. The single candle has flickered out, leaving only the dim glow of emergency lights casting long, soft shadows across the steel counters and tiled floor. The air feels heavy, not with tension but with something deeper—something unspoken yet profoundly felt.

You’re cradled in Seokjin’s arms, your body pressed against his, the heat of him grounding you in the aftermath of your shared surrender. His chef’s coat is unbuttoned, the fabric hanging loosely to reveal the smooth expanse of his chest, still glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. Your blouse is barely buttoned, your skirt still hiked up, but there’s no urgency to fix it. Your legs are tangled with his, your bare thighs brushing the rough denim of his jeans. The counter beneath you is cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands, one resting possessively on your hip, the other tracing slow, absent circles along your spine. Every touch sends a shiver through you, not of arousal but of intimacy, raw and unguarded.

Your breaths are still uneven, your chest rising and falling as you try to anchor yourself in the moment. Seokjin’s heartbeat is steady under your cheek, a rhythmic thud that feels like a promise. His scent envelops you—salt and spice, the faint tang of his cologne mingling with the kitchen’s lingering aromas of garlic and thyme. It’s intoxicating, grounding, and you press closer, needing the reassurance of his solidity.

He shifts, his lips brushing your forehead, soft and reverent. The gesture is so tender it aches, a stark contrast to the fierce hunger of moments ago. His breath is warm against your skin, and when he speaks, his voice is low, rough with emotion, like he’s peeling back layers he’s kept hidden for too long. “I meant it, Y/N,” he says, each word deliberate, heavy with conviction. “I want you. Not just tonight. Not just like this. I want you—all of you.”

The words hit you like a wave, stirring something deep in your chest. You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. In the dim light, they’re endless, dark pools of sincerity, flecked with vulnerability you’ve never seen before. His jaw is set, but there’s a softness in his gaze, a quiet plea that makes your heart stutter. You swallow, your throat tight, the weight of his confession sinking in. “Seokjin…” you start, your voice trembling, not from fear but from the overwhelming truth of your own feelings. “I want you too. I’ve wanted you for so long, I just… I was scared. Scared you didn’t feel the same.”

His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it softens into something achingly tender. “Scared?” he repeats, his voice breaking on the word. He cups your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, wiping away a tear you didn’t realize had fallen. His touch is warm, calloused from years in the kitchen, but so gentle it feels like a vow. “Y/N, you’ve been under my skin since the day you walked in here. All those times I watched you, teased you, tried to get you to look at me… it was because I couldn’t stand the thought of you not seeing me the way I see you.”

Your breath catches, the raw honesty in his words unraveling you. “I saw you,” you whisper, your hands gripping his shirt, the fabric creasing under your fingers. “I always saw you. But you’re… you’re you. Mr. Kim, the chef, the owner, this larger-than-life man who makes everyone fall for him. I didn’t think I could ever be enough.”

He shakes his head, a low, frustrated sound escaping him. “Don’t say that,” he says, his voice firm but laced with pain. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything. You’re the one who makes this place feel alive, not just for the customers but for me. Every time you smile, every time you blush when I catch you staring, it’s like… fuck, it’s like the world makes sense again.”

His words are a lifeline, pulling you from the doubts that have held you back for months. You lean into him, your forehead resting against his, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. The warmth of his skin, the faint stubble on his jaw, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it’s all so real, so overwhelming. “I’m yours,” you say, the words spilling out like a confession, raw and unguarded. “I’ve been yours for longer than I knew how to admit.”

Seokjin’s breath hitches, and for a moment, he’s still, like he’s savoring the weight of your words. Then he’s kissing you, slow and deep, not with the desperate hunger of before but with a tenderness that feels like worship. His lips are soft, tasting faintly of salt and you, and the way he moves against you is like he’s trying to memorize every second of this moment. His hands slide up your back, pulling you closer, and you melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers threading through his hair.

When he pulls back, his eyes are bright, a smile breaking across his face—not the cocky smirk you’re used to, but something genuine, unguarded, like he’s letting you see all of him. “Good,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”

You laugh, the sound light and free, bubbling up from a place you didn’t know existed. It’s a release, a shedding of the shyness that’s defined you for so long. “You’d better not,” you tease, your voice soft but steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich, vibrating through you where your bodies touch. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “Stay with me tonight,” he says, not a question but a quiet hope. “Not here, not like this. Come home with me. Let me hold you, wake up with you.”

Your heart swells, the invitation carrying more weight than the physical act. It’s a promise, a future. You nod, your smile soft but certain. “Okay,” you whisper. “I’d like that.”

He kisses you again, a brief, sweet press of lips, before helping you down from the counter. His hands are steady, guiding you as you adjust your clothes, your movements slow and languid in the afterglow. The kitchen feels different now, not just a place of work but a witness to something new, something sacred. The rain outside continues its soft song, and as Seokjin takes your hand, his fingers lacing with yours, you feel like you’re stepping into a new world—one where you’re no longer just the shy waitress, but the woman who holds his heart.

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who gave you a ring to seal your relationship. it was just a romantic gesture that made Jin happy, something that didn’t have much value beyond an oath of loyalty and fun. he asked you to choose the ring, wanting to see your preferences right from the start. would you like to have something golden on your finger that reflected all the light and magic that existed in the cosmos? or would you prefer a silver-plated ring, splashed with all the tears in the universe? whatever you wanted, Jin would give it to you and made sure you only received the best. it was with a big smile on your lips and an immense curiosity in your eyes that Jin saw you choosing something that called to you. it was in those small minutes, it was when he noticed all your smiles and the way your eyes sparkled, Jin realized that his idea had been something worthwhile – you simply looked divine when you had the entire cosmos on your tray. “don’t look too much at money. if you like it, say so. let’s try it and if it’s really chosen by you, i’ll buy it. even if it is as expensive as all the stars in the universe. this will be proof that i will always take care of you.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who buys you an apartment next to his so you’ll be a call away. since the beginning of your relationship Jin realized that you would be a very important person for him. he could not explain, but you had a magic capable of making Jin believe that what you both had was deeper, more special than many other relationships. as such, and knowing that he would need you at more random times, Jin was quick to find a solution. the most beautiful apartment in that neighborhood was waiting for you to appear to be bought for you. without telling you anything, Jin remodeled the apartment to your taste, always getting a reaction from you without suspicion of what was going on. and when the works came to an end and that house had many resemblance to your ideal house, Jin just gave you the key and, with a smile on his lips and pride in his heart, just told you to enjoy it. “see this as a gift of thanks for everything you have done so far. and i know you think you did nothing to deserve it, but believe when i say that without you my days would never be lived.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who just wants the week to end so he can be with you. when the week went by and Jin didn’t have the chance to be with you, he would show up at your house with a box of new clothes and an invitation to dinner. although you are a constant in Jin’s life, always talking to him electronically, opportunities to be together were scarce due to the divergence of your work schedules. as such, when the week came to an end and Jin knew perfectly well that there was no excuse for you to turn him down, he would invite you for a night out somewhere in the city. trying different restaurants every time, staying in the most comfortable hotel there was, you and Jin made those nights eternal in exchanges of affectionate caresses and seductive words. when the week came to an end and there was finally a chance to relax, Jin couldn’t think of anything else but you - Jin’s entire being was only able to rest when it was you who sprinkled his body with that heavenly magic from your lips. “tomorrow’s meeting was postponed, so i can stay late in the morning. this time there’s no excuse not to love me.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who likes it when you whisper in his ear. when Jin’s lips caressed your neck with devotion, sending shivers through your body and relaxing your mind, you couldn’t think. with your eyes closed, tilting your neck to make Jin’s worship easier, you allowed your worries to be expelled from your body with all the tenderness and care Jin had for you. wrapping your fingers in his hair and letting your entire mind become clouded by Jin’s love, you couldn’t control the words from slipping out of your mouth and brushing against Jin’s ears. and it was when you called out to him as if his name were a prayer, when you asked him to give you more, when you just lost any control over what you said, it was in those exact moments that Jin believed the world was a beautiful place – your total surrender was enough to turn that place into an ethereal eden.

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who spends every valentine’s day with you. neither you nor Jin believed that valentine’s day was a day that should exist – you both knew perfectly well that the appearance of this date was just to collaborate in the great web of capitalism that covered the world. but that didn’t stop Jin from wanting to celebrate it. yes, you and Jin weren’t really a couple, and almost no one in your lives knew of the other’s existence. but he couldn’t deny that there was a certain charm about that day. maybe it was because everything was pink and hearts, or because there were so many chocolates or stuffed animals, but every year Jin insisted on spending that day with you. and every year you always did the same thing: breakfast at your favorite cafe for you to eat your favorite cake, followed by a walk through the most beautiful gardens in the city before going to eat at Jin’s favorite restaurant. in the afternoon, after watching a movie at the cinema and eating ice cream, you and Jin would get ready for a more refined dinner where he would always offer you a rose for every moment spent with you. it was something simple, a very common and quite childish ritual – but it was something that Jin enjoyed, more for your company and shared memories than for the full meaning of that day. after all, you made every day special for Jin just by being you. “i don’t think there’s a good movie for us to watch this year, but we can always watch one at home. that way we can feel more comfortable and enjoy the day better. what do you say? you can choose the movie this time! yea?”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who makes all your dreams come true. he liked to spoil you, make you feel special, and all he asked in return was for you to always be honest with him: what did you want? where did you want to go? what did you want to do? nothing was impossible for Jin. whatever you wanted, he would give you. you were the only important person in Jin’s life, you were the only person he knew would never leave him; yes, you might think it’s all part of your contract, but the reality is that there was something much deeper to your relationship – and you both knew it. so let Jin make you as happy as you make him. let Jin give you all the world to thank you for all the stars you stole to keep him warm. let Jin worship you and he promises that you will never live on this earth feeling inferior. everything he was, you helped him to be. whatever you wanted to be, he would help you be. everything. “everything! you might even want a unicorn riding an orangutan. you can ask for a cup full of heavenly dust to wash your face. you can want everything, the whole world, the entire universe, and i promise, i swear, that i will give it to you. even if i have to fight the gods themselves to get it.”

SUGAR-DADDY!JIN who takes you to all his family events. it was the greatest honor there could be: you meeting Jin’s family. you had to admit that when he first suggested it he made you a little nervous, and when it actually happened you almost panicked. after all, what did Jin have in his head to want you, his sugar-baby, to meet his family? was he crazy? no. he wasn’t really crazy. he was slightly in love – the difference was almost zero. so introducing you, the most important person in his life, to his family, those people he would always love, meant so much more than you could believe. in brief exchanges of words, among so many conversations and laughs, you began to integrate into Jin’s family, being seen as Jin’s shy and captivating partner, with so many people praising your relationship. like someone who cultivates a plant, your relationship with Jin germinated into an intense flower of devotion and love – everyone had to see how beautiful you two were. “thursday i have my uncle’s birthday and we’re going to the restaurant you like outside the city. do you want to come? today we could buy you a new outfit and then you can come with me.”

[hamburgerndsprite]

Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 13

Note: (I'll keep updating the lists as I read more fics. Also, all the moodboards are edited by me therefore I request everyone not to repost them as theirs)

[Masterlist]

[POLY]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Oh, Little Red by jincherie

➛pairing: yoongi x reader x jimin ➛genre: red riding hood au, wolf au, hybrid au?, smut ➛words: 13.3k+ ➛synopsis: You knew they warned you about that path for a reason, you knew you shouldn’t take it as a shortcut. You knew, but you were running late, and you did it anyway. Oh, little red, just what have you gotten yourself into?

➺ All I Want by chimoona

Pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung x Fem!Reader Genre: Smut, Fluff Word Count: 4.7K Synopsis: It's a Christmas miracle you caught Jungkook and Taehyung crossing paths under the mistletoe. Tis the season for generosity, and being the bearers of good tidings, how could they ever deny your request to watch?

[KIM NAMJOON]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Wrapped Together [M] by lemonjoonah

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Word Count: 18K Genre: Christmas AU, Romance, Drama Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, to self-preserve and endure what will no doubt be the worst Christmas of your life, you are still roped into volunteering for the hospital's annual gift wrap fundraiser. The enticing factor that lured you out? The promise of a new shift partner, Kim Namjoon. Though your first day together starts off with a slight miscalculation of his skills for wrapping, he soon becomes your essential ally in the fight to get through this lonely holiday season.

➺ Rumor Has It by jjungkookislife

↬ pairing: Namjoon x F. Reader ↬ genre: college!au, smut [18+], f2l’s ↬ wc: 6k ↬ summary:  After hearing a rumor about your best friend, it’s all you can think about.

➺ Give me Love by hueseok

pairing: namjoon x reader content: angst | fluff | smut | established relationship au | ft. lawyer!namjoon, noona!reader word count: 15k summary: you’ve been in a relationship with your boyfriend for over five years now, yet the talk of marriage has never been initiated between the two of you. of course, you try to somehow squeeze it in from time to time, but it seems like no matter what, namjoon just won’t take the hint.

{SERIES}

➺ My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold by daechwitatamic

Pairings: KNJ x female reader, unrequited KTH x reader Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut Parts: 11/11 + Extras Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as ��family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.  Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved. 

➺ Bass & Strings by jimlingss

► Pairing: Harpist! Namjoon x Tuba player! OC ► Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, College!AU, Music!AU ► Parts: 21/21 ► Summary: Have you ever wondered what happens to the mean girl after high school? Where do they go, where do they end up? More importantly, what happens when they get mixed up with the classic nerd that's always too nervous to answer 'no'? Things become a lot more complicated when Kim Namjoon encounters you. They dub you as 'bat-shit insane' and you're not ashamed.

[KIM SEOKJIN]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Stuck With You by taleasnewastime

Pairing: Seokjin x reader Genre: Strangers to lovers; smut; angst; fluff; Christmas fic! Word count: 29.6k Summary: It’s the first Christmas since your dad passed away. You, your mum and sister are going to his favourite place to do his favourite thing, skiing. And yet you’re not there. Stuck. Stranded. Trapped. In seemingly the single hottest place in the world. Your transfer flight cancelled so you’re now stuck between home and your family. A snowstorm that causes all flights to be cancelled, heat that just seems wrong at Christmas, your sister crying and shouting down the phone at you, and to top it off, the most annoying man in the world who’s in the same position as you and seems to think you’re friends because of that fact. Merry Christmas to you.

➺ Birthright [M] by jimilter

pairing: seokjin x reader genre: angst | smut | suspense | drama | vampire!seokjin | supernatural!au | historical!au | strangers to lovers!au word count: 18k summary: Slowly making peace with the one singular purpose your life served, you were grateful for the solace you didn’t anticipate within the cold walls of the Briarwood Manor in a handsome stranger who kept your heart warm with his gorgeous smiles and a vast collection of books. However, you couldn’t escape the eerie inkling that you knew him better than you realized. Not when assaulted by dreams in which Kim Seokjin’s charcoal black eyes turn as red as his lips had been the first night you met him.

➺ The Wedding by taleasnewastime

Pairing: Jin x reader   Genre: fluff; smut; angst Word count: 11.2k Summary: A wedding of close friends is always a nice occasion. But what if your ex is attending. And what if that ex also happens to be sat at the same table as you with a date. Hopefully the mysterious stranger sitting by you at dinner can help save the day.

➺ Give me Love by taleasnewastime

Pairing: Seokjin x reader Genre: pwp; smut; fluff; 18+ rating. Word count: 6.1k Summary: You’ve never said the words to him before, but you’ve never felt them as deeply as you do now, lying in your bed and watching him scold you for leaving the front door unlocked. The words slip out as you look at him, unable to hold them back, and Jin proceeds to show you just how much he returns the feelings.

[MIN YOONGI]

{ONESHOT}

➺ The Way To Your Heart by Joonary

↳ pairing: min yoongi x reader ↳ genre: fluff; humor; office au; ↳ word count: 9k ↳ summary: when your office christmas party’s secret santa gives you absolutely no context on what kind of gift he wants, you have no choice but to get to know him better. 

➺ Pina coladas are for wusses by jimilter

pairing:  yoongi x reader (ft. brother!jungkook) genre:  humor | fluff | brush of angst | brother's best friend!au word count:  1.3 k summary:  “I might punch you just to prove that I’m not a wuss,” you say, stroking your chin with a finger while your eyes seem to size him up. Yoongi chuckles. “Stop going cross-eyed at the sight of Pina Coladas, and I’ll reconsider.” “They’re not a cowardly drink! They have rum in them!” “Yeah, but they also have coconut cream in them. Sounds kinda wussy to me.”

➺ Purr-haps I Like You by taleasnewastime

Pairing: Yoongi x reader Genre: pure fluff; Flatmates au Word count: 11.6k Summary: You have a no pets policy where you live, but when you find a tiny kitten in a box on the side of the road, what can you do but bring it home with you? The only problem? The landlord who made the no pets rule, also happens to be your flatmate.

➺ All That Holly-Jolly Sh*t by daechwitatamic

Pairing: Yoongi x reader WC: 11k Genre: exes to lovers, the babiest angst straight to fluffy smut (they’ve got shit to work out, but they get there!!) Summary: You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

➺ Celestial Ruin by remedyx

Pairing: Fallen Angel!Yoongi x Angel!(f)reader Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural, Angels and Demons, Angst, Smut, Corruption WC: 11.1k Summary: Just being in his proximity made my skin crawl. As if his tainted wings were contagious and I was putting myself at risk just being near him. Yoongi was corruption incarnate. Once revered upon his throne and now cast aside for the sins he committed. Inky wings replacing the beautiful gold they used to be. The sign of the Fallen. And the way he looked at me said he wouldn't be sinking alone.

[JUNG HOSEOK]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Starting Again by taleasnewastime

Pairing: Hoseok x reader Genre: Adult student/Professor, single parent, fluff. Word count: 11k Summary: Two years out of studying to have a baby, only your first few weeks back and it’s already not going as easily as you thought. A babysitter you can barely afford dropping out last minute, you have to take your little girl into the lecture with you. What follows isn’t smooth, but it’s the start of you getting closer to your professor, a man you’ve always admired from your seat, but you learn to get to know up close.

➺ Adjustment [M] by yminie

pairing: chiropractor! hoseok, patient! reader, genre/warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, creampie, rough-ish, oral sex (recieving) words: 7138 summary: At Kim-Jung Chiropractics, they meet your every need, and today it's not just your back that needs aligning.

➺ Booby Traps by jimilter

pairing: hoseok x reader rating: m (18+) genre: smut | humor | drama | pwp | mafioso!hoseok | exes to lovers!au word count: 5 k summary: Jung Hoseok was told the building would be laced with booby traps. All he encounters are your boobies – but they have always had him trapped.

➺ Crashing Into You by taleasnewastime

Pairing: Hoseok x reader Genre: mafia/gang!au; smut; angst; light fluff Word count: 28.8k Summary: It all started because you got hit off your bike, not generally the start of a good story, and yet it’s where yours starts. Though you’re still not entirely sure if yours is a good story; it hasn’t been good till this point. Hoseok, the man that crashed into you seemed nice enough the few times you’ve met him and over text, but now, you’re not so sure. All the signs seem to be pointing at the fact that maybe he isn’t the smart businessman you thought he was.

➺ Old Flame by hueseok

pairing: hoseok x reader content: angst | light fluff | exes au | some flashbacks | ft. brother’s best friend!hoseok, brother!namjoon word count: 10.7k Summary: four days before your brother’s wedding, he’s assigned you to go fetch his best friend at the airport and drive him all the way to the venue with you. the only problem? the said best friend is hoseok, an ex (sorta) who you also haven’t seen for almost 7 years. a lot have changed definitely, but it seems like the unresolved feelings you have for each other are still there.

[PARK JIMIN]

{ONESHOT}

➺ The prince’s cinderella syndrome (m) by jimilter

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. a dash of jungkook x reader) word count: 39.4 k  genre: angst | smut | fluff | cursed!jimin | supernatural!au | strangers to lovers!au summary:  He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

➺ Quiet Kisses by hueseok

pairing: jimin x reader word count: 4.5k genre: fluff | smut | best friends to lovers au | established relationship au | kinda secret relationship au | ft. flight attendant!jimin summary: it’s hard keeping a secret from your seven-year-old son, especially if it’s your relationship with his uncle jimin, your best friend for as long as your remember and someone who only recently did you begin dating or alternatively, the one where you and jimin do it in the room next to your son’s with the hopes that you’ll be quiet enough to not get caught.

➺ Captivity by jimilter

pairing: jimin x reader rating: m (18+) genre: smut | humor | fluff | slight angst | strangers to lovers!au | mafioso!jimin | kidnapper!jimin  word count: 11.1 k summary: Maybe you shouldn’t be so attracted to one of your kidnappers and maybe you shouldn’t give in to his advances – but Park Jimin is way too irresistibly sexy and persistent in his pursuit of you for his own good. 

➺ Peaches and Cream by snackhobi

pairing: jimin x reader word count: 9.1k genre: smut (NSFW, 18+) summary: you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost.  but there’s only so much you can resist park jimin, especially once he gets that peach involved.

➺ Feel Your Touch by jimilter

pairing: jimin x reader genre: smut | humor | angst | fluff | camboy!jimin | strangers to lovers!au word count: 28k summary: You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

➺ Syntax Error by hueseok

pairing: jimin x reader word count: 7.1k genre: fluff | smut | friends with benefits au | established relationship au | college au | romcom-ish | this is just a very light fic tbh, kinda feels like pwp or fluff without plot sjdjsk | yn and jimin are just head over heels for each other | we're highlighting the beauty of ✨ communication ✨ summary: there’s an obvious difference between being solely fuck buddies and fuck buddies who are slowly getting emotionally attached to one another. unfortunately for you and jimin, it seems like you’re falling in the second category. so, what’s the solution to not be in that kind set-up anymore? you stop being friends with benefits, of course. and for jimin, that means you don’t see each other for sex anymore. you actually move forward and date for real.

➺ Ain't Real Cherry by jimilter

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)  genre: smut | humor | fluff | touches of angst if you really squint | college!au | roommate!au word count: 24.2k summary: Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in. And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge, every single time. 

➺ Relax for me by jimilter

pairing: jimin x reader genre: humor | smut | fluff | a brush of angst | established relationship!au | masseuse!jimin word count: 13k summary: You came home from a tiring workday and your boyfriend offered to give you a massage to relax – which you didn’t think much of because Park Jimin is known to be selflessly kind while also being a pervert, the exact two behaviors a massage would exemplify. But maybe you should think more about how skilled his hands felt… almost extraordinarily skilled. Is your boyfriend hiding something from you?

{SERIES}

➺ A Serpent's Flower by Jimlingss and Dovechim

pairing: jimin x reader parts: 2/2 Genre: Fluff, Smut, Smidgen of Angst, Hogwarts!AU, ??!AU Summary: The wizarding community has learned from its past mistakes, sure, but that doesn’t mean that house rivalries aren’t still an issue. What transpires between you and a certain Park Jimin seems to go far beyond just house enmity though - it’s downright personal, and one might even say you go out of your way to torment him. But when a love potion gone awry, it may just force you to walk in his shoes. 

[KIM TAEHYUNG]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls by jimilter

pairing: art-student!taehyung x creative-writing-student!reader  genre: angst | smut | fluff | humor | college!au | established relationship!au word count: 19.2 k summary: One drink too many at Hoseok’s Halloween party, and you’ve blanked out on the entire night that followed. Now, who’s gonna fill you in when Taehyung looks one second away from breaking into tears when you bring it up with him? From running across the university campus in remnants of your vampire outfit, to dealing with your downtrodden boyfriend’s disappointed stares - you’re left with one hell of a day, and zero recollections.

➺ Mine To Claim [M] by jimilter

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: smut | angst | fluff | alpha!taehyung | omega!reader | werewolf!au | idiots to lovers!au | fwb!au word count: 13 k summary: You are in love with Taehyung, your Alpha. But he just sees you as the Omega bitch that helps him relieve stress by letting him use her body however he likes. And you’ve come to be okay with that, because you know you are no good for him. But now with your heat coming up and the pressure on Taehyung to find a Queen increasing exponentially, will your ties with him severe forever? Or will they bloom into something else?

➺ Trip by daechwitatamic

Pairing: KTH x female reader, JJK x OC, JHS x OC Genre: f2l, fluff, camping!au WC: 22k Summary: Your gigantic crush on Kim Taehyung is so bad that you drop whatever you’re holding every time he speaks to you. Your dirty liar of a best friend SWORE to you he wouldn’t be on this camping trip, but he is. Luckily, the trip gives Taehyung the chance to see you in a new light, admittedly with some help from his best friend (and definitely hired spy) Park Jimin.

➺ The odds on us by jimilter

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: angst | smut | fluff | exes to lovers!au | slice of life!au word count: 15.5 k Summary: It would all be easier if you just believed in fate; you could say meeting him was destiny and the odds of fate were just against your union. Too bad you don't. Too bad it was Taehyung that wasn't serious about your future. Too bad he won't leave you alone even a year after your break-up. Too bad you want to kiss him when you have a date with someone else tonight. Too bad you're still in love with him.

➺ Happenstance by jimilter

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: fluff, humor, ceo!taehyung, slice of life!au word count: 7k Summary: Kim Taehyung is having the worst luck with romance. Every date he goes on blows up in his face, one way or another. He’s on his way back from one such disaster when he spots someone that looks a lot like you, his crush from high school – and a series of coincidences follow.

➺ Space for two by captain-joongz

Pairing: demon!Kim Taehyung x f!reader Genre: smut, both angsty and fluffy, dark themes, positive ending, historical au (maybe like 18/early 19th century Joseon) Word count: 25.4k Summary: Trapped in a marriage arranged by our families, married to a cold, uncaring man and taking care of a farm in the middle of nowhere, I had sunken to the lowest lows. Aware of my husband's gambling habits and love for brothels that often kept him from home, I'd gotten used to the feeling of falling asleep in a cold, empty bed. But that changed one day, when an uninvited guest made himself quite at home and brought with him warm touches and scorching dreams. Gentleness coming from the one least expected may just be the push into the right direction.

[JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Here Comes The Bride, All Dressed In Pride by hansolmates

↳ pairing; jungkook x reader (f) ↳ genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone ↳ w.c; 17.3k  ↳ summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend

➺ Tangled Webs by ughseoks

— pairing; spiderman!jungkook x reader — genre/au; soulmate au / spiderman au / angst, fluff — word count; 14.1k — summary; Soulmates are tricky thing. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their destinies intertwined with their missing piece. Signs come in dreams for those fortunate souls; short bursts that are barely memorable when the sun rises. As for you? Flashes of red and blue are your only indicators to the identity of your other half.

➺ The Grumpy Girlfriend Protection Program by jincapableoflove

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader Genre: sunshine bf x grumpy gf, golden retriever! jungkook, black cat! reader, office worker! reader, veterinary student! jungkook, fluff, comedy, thriller, mystery (slight), action, angst. Word count: 22.8k+ Summary: Jeon Jungkook has always been the sunshine in every room; warm, kind, and completely oblivious to danger. Luckily, you, his grumpy, overprotective girlfriend have made it your personal mission to keep him safe. But when the threat shifts to you instead, Jungkook proves that even sunshine can scorch—and for you, he’d burn.

➺ Bridges We Almost Burned by kooffeecup

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader Genre: angst, romance Summary: when you see your boyfriend giving ride to the new intern frequently because he thinks it’s convenient, something snaps inside you.

➺ Strong Enough by jimilter

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: smut | pwp | established relationship!au | biker!jungkook | bartender!reader word count: 3.7k Summary: You're strong enough to protect yourself – Jungkook is strong enough to take you against a wall. Unrelated claims that are both proven to be true on an unsuspecting Thursday. The common denominator? A bunch of losers that leer at you and ask you about your boyfriend's sexual prowess.

➺ To know you is to love you by jimilter

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: humor | smut | slight angst | vampire!reader | changeling-fae!jungkook | fantasy!au | strangers to enemies to lovers!au word count: 21.3k summary: If going on a bloodthirst-fueled rampage and ravaging almost half the city when you are a whole adult vampire of three-plus centuries was somewhat embarrassing, being on the run from the Supernatural Interpol is making you want to walk into a field of garlic and asphyxiate to death out of mortification. So it should be quite understood why this sudden meeting with a creature you’ve only heard myths about, in a dingy freaking hiding place, is shaping up to be the most humiliating moment of your life. It doesn’t help that he’s handsome as hell. Or that every other sentence out of his mouth is a freaking line. Or that he has decided to accompany you on your absconding adventures. Or… that you’re actually kinda okay with it? Yeah, you’re massively screwed.

{SERIES}

➺ Bound by Fate, Chosen by Love by sweetvoidstuff

Pairing: werewolf! jungkook x witch! reader Genre: Fated Mates I Slow Burn I Strangers to Lovers I Supernatural Romance I Protective Jungkook Parts: 4/4 Summary: A witch bound by duty. A werewolf bound by instinct. When fate intertwines their paths, they must decide if love is worth defying expectations. Hunters threaten their people, forcing them to fight side by side. As tensions rise, so does the pull between them—soft moments turning into something far more intense. A quiet invitation, a lingering touch, a whispered question that changes everything. In the end, choice matters more than destiny. But with danger still lurking, will they have the chance to choose each other?

[anyamaris]

Make Me

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!reader

Summary: Things between you and your long time best friend take a turn one day into forbidden territory-will you be able to go back to the friendship that you hold so dear?

Genre/AU: Best friends to FWB, non-idol au, angst/smut

Rating: 18+/M for mature

Word Count: 5782

Warnings: Adult Language, unprotected sex, playful banter/insults, unexpected sex, creampie, mild angst after the deed

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @pars-ley @colormepurplex2 @yoonguurt you're amazing! @pars-ley for the ridiculously gorgeous banner and @cafekitsune for the dividers!

I was going to do this in a one shot, but I got a bit carried away and this will end up being at least two parts.

Taglist: @lapydiaries @bangtanwritershq @thebtswritersclub @ksmutsociety @frenchkisstheabyss

Dinner parties at Yoongi’s are always a great time, the combination of Sky’s hosting abilities and both of their cooking skills make any event they throw a complete smash.

You glance at the group bantering in the other room as you gather the dishes from the table, laughing at the chaos already starting.  

“Stop, you’re a guest,” Sky tells you, but you just ignore her and continue to help despite her narrow–eyed look.

Giggling, you take off into the kitchen as she sighs behind you.  

“They’re so cute, I knew they’d eventually end up together.” You tell her as she follows you, noting your glance at Namjoon and your long-time friend, Ty.

“Of course, totally called it.” Sky agrees, and you share a secret smile.

Since they first met, Sky has been whispering to you about the inevitability of it, and as always, she’s spot on.

Well, almost always, you think, smiling inwardly.

Her own story with Yoongi was something to behold, that was for sure.

A squeaky, wheezing laugh greets your ears as Sky swats you away from attempting to do the dishes, so you finally give up to go find out what is going on in the other room.

Before the door to the kitchen swings shut, you smirk as you hear Yoongi’s deep voice.

“You’d better leave those, baby, or -”

Shaking your head, you go plop down next to Hoseok, eyes locked on Jin as he rambles on about some incident at the practice room.

“What’s he on about?”you ask Hoseok, leaning over towards him as your eyes just watch the animated man yapping a mile a minute.

“Who knows, I tuned him out a while ago.” Hoseok chuckles as he shakes his head.  

“Did someone bring the WD-40?” you ask as Jin lets out another one of his signature windshield wiper laughs.

“Yah!” he says, eyes wide with fake anger as he turns on you, causing the whole room to erupt into laughter.

You shoot a wink across to Ty, who is curled up with Namjoon on the opposite couch as Jin and Jungkook resume their little argument.

Sky was almost always right, you think again, settling in to enjoy the evening.

You open your eyes to your phone blaring at you, your jaw cracking as you yawn and clear the morning fog from your mind.

You know it’s Jin before you even look; he’d somehow managed to get ahold of your phone and used his ridiculous laugh for his personal ringtone.

You just shake your head as you slide the answer call button.

“Hey, something up? Shouldn’t you be working?” You ask, rolling your neck and rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes.  

“Yeah, I should be but a pipe burst at my place and the whole ceiling came down. Dealing with this for now, but I have a favor to ask…” 

His voice is punctuated by people talking in the background and you can hear him cover the phone with his hand as he answers something.

Probably the landlord and workers, you think.

“Of course you can come stay til it’s fixed, Jin.  You don’t even need to ask.” you tell him, sitting up to swing your legs out of the bed.  

“Ah, thank you! I appreciate it, you know I won’t be a bad roomie.” You can hear the relief in his otherwise tense tone.

“Didn’t want to ask the newlyweds?” you tease, knowing very well Namjoon’s place would be very...unwelcoming to guests at the moment.

His snort just has you grinning as you make your way to peek into the guest bedroom, already taking stock of what you need to do to get it ready for him.

“Seriously, I’m all for them being together but that’s different than rooming there…ugh the noises alone…”

You can only laugh at his tone and nod as you turn to go make a list of things to do today.

Step one, coffee.

“Sure you don’t want to stay with Yoongi and-”

“Don’t even say it, you know how bad it was last time.” he groans.

“Yes, yes, I don’t want to hear the details again about my friend's sex life.  Grab whatever and I’ll have the room ready.  You still have your key?” you ask, setting about your morning routine.

“Yep.  Are you staying in today?” he asks, and you can hear the voices calling for him once more.

“Yeah, I may run out for a moment but other than that I’ll be here.  Go take care of that.  See you in a bit.”

You hang up, letting out another big yawn as you pad over to peek into the fridge.

I’ll have to run to the grocery store too, you put on your mental checklist.

One of the things you love the most about when Jin comes over is cooking together, so you always have to make sure you have some fun things to work with.

Deciding to put off your writing for the day since Jin is coming, you focus on getting some laundry going before heading out to grab some things.

The weeks following Jin temporarily moving in go as they normally do for the two of you.

Early mornings where Jin is waking up as he makes his way out to early practice or the studio, as you are finally closing your laptop after an all-nighter.

Your schedules have a brief overlap, allowing you to catch up with each other about random things over quick shared simple breakfasts before he’s rushing out the door as you shuffle off to sleep the day away.

Completing your most recent chapter ahead of deadline, you find yourself slowly getting back to a regular schedule and can catch up with some more social activities.

Yoongi had taken Sky with him on some kind of work related trip, and most of your friends were busy with their own schedules.

You hadn’t the heart to harass Ty too much with the new relationship, knowing that her infrequent text responses are a good sign that she’s likely quite busy.

Lounging on the couch, you scroll through the most recent conversations.

“Namjoon’s keeping her occupied.” you hum happily as Jin leans over your shoulder to read the text on your phone.

The scent of fresh soap washes over you and you glance behind at the man now hovering over you.

Clad in only a towel around his waist, his damp hair tickles your cheek as you turn to raise your eyebrow at him.

“Is that my towel?” you ask, sighing at the cute little sunflowers now adorning his otherwise naked body.

“It looks good on me.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but push his face away, rolling your eyes at him.

“I left one for you, Seokjin! I just did the laundry! Why are you using mine?” 

Walking around to go grab a water bottle from the fridge, he just takes a long swig before he’s turning to finally answer you.

“Don’t want to share?” he grins, reaching out to lean against the wall beside him.  

“Ugh, don’t pose to try to look sexy, Jin.  Now I won’t be able to use that again, just the thought of your dick tainting my pretty little flowers….” you sigh dramatically, looking back at your messages.  

“Try?!” He scoffs, and you try to keep a straight face while his voice rises, anticipating the incoming rant.

“”Mhm…try.” 

“I’ll have you know, I’m considered very sexy!  You should have heard the staff talking about how handsome I am at the company today-!”

You merely nod, not looking up from your phone as he continues, doing your best to not burst into laughter.

Nodding absentmindedly, his rant finally just turns into muttering as he wanders off to hopefully put on some clothing.

It was always a good day when you got Jin to rant, it just means this is a win for you.

“What do you want to cook?” He asks as he shambles back out, finally drawing your attention as you finish answering some texts.

“Now there’s a question…” you say, hoisting yourself off the couch to go poke around with him in the fridge.

By the end of the evening, you find yourself in your normal spot, lounging with your leg over Jin’s, his arm perched behind you on the back of the couch as you watch the most recent episode of the drama you’d both decided on.

It was nice to have something to look forward to with your schedules being so wacky lately, and by the time it finishes, you’re happy to find that you’re tired while it’s still dark out.

Covering your mouth to hide the big yawn, you extract yourself from your best friend, checking the time.

“I may be able to sleep tonight and get up at a normal hour tomorrow,” you say.

Glancing over, you can’t help but smile at the half-asleep man blinking as if he didn’t fall asleep halfway through the show.  

“Go to bed, sleepyhead.” you tell him, reaching out to ruffle his hair as you make your way to your room.

“Yeah, bed.” he echoes sleepily, but before you can close the door to your room, he calls out.

“Hey, tomorrow the guys want to go out.  Letting you know ahead of time that I won’t be back til afternoon Saturday.” 

You nod, appreciating the heads up. 

“Alright, I almost forgot tomorrow was Friday.  Thanks for letting me know.” you wave to him, closing your door before heading to flop on your comfy bed.

Good, you could lounge around and have some alone time, you think.

It’s not as if Jin being here is a hardship, of course.

But you did miss not having to worry about having pants on in your own home.

Not that Jin would care, but you had some decency.  

It’s not like you wanted to go around flashing your best friend, even if he does use your towel like a jerk.

“So, when are you two announcing that you’ve moved in together and have been having a secret relationship this whole time?” 

Sky’s text from earlier just makes you shake your head, and Ty’s “Just get it over with and we can all be happy couples, girl.” only adds to your exasperation.

“Quiet, both of you.” you murmur, tossing your phone on the comforter as you curl up in bed.  

As if you haven’t had this conversation with pretty much every single person in your friend group, or heard some semblance of this mindset.

At this point, you’d both started to play into it, much to the dismay of your friends.

Have you ever had feelings for Seokjin? 

You surely appreciate his attractiveness, as much as you like to tease him.

He really is very handsome, of course.

But all of them are handsome in their own ways.

Ty and Sky both knew about your secret crush on Hoseok years ago, and that had gone nowhere for the same reason you’d never even attempted to think beyond the basics with Jin.

Especially with Jin.

You’d given up the idea before you let it get out of control or even let on about it.

Your friendship matters so much more than a physical relationship, even if you’ve pondered what it could be like.

This dynamic had been established basically from day one, way back in your first year of college when you’d met their friend group.  

As friends, you two were so open and honest, to the point of hilarity.  

He could match your energy and you enjoyed getting him as riled up as he got you.

You may tease each other and pretend to argue, but you’ve never actually had a true fight.

You knew once that line was crossed, feelings would get complicated.  

There was something special between you two and you treasured what you had right now.

For all you knew, the perfect dynamic of friendship you currently have could quickly turn into a really bad match if you ever dated.

You guarantee that Jin would agree with you, so there was nothing more to talk or think about.

Sighing into your pillow, cursing your friends for making you think about the same stupid things for the millionth time, you close your eyes to get some rest only to hear your phone ding one last time.

“I used your loofah too.”

“GODDAMNIT, KIM SEOKJIN!” 

You launch a pillow at your door as you hear his distant high-pitched laughter and clapping through the otherwise quiet apartment.

“Where did I put my-aha!” 

You glance up at the man currently acting like he hasn’t packed everything he’s needed well ahead of time.

Rolling your eyes as he scoops up his favorite hoodie from the back of one of the kitchen stools, you can only shake your head as you return your focus to your last email of the day.  

“Hey, I saw that.” he huffs, padding to the door to get his shoes on, “Don’t miss me too much, brat. I know you’ll be counting the hours while I’m gone.” 

This draws your attention, eyebrow raised as you give him a deadpan look.

“Oh Kim Seokjin, how I pine for you. Whatever will I do without your presence nearby?”

Your monotone coaxes a laugh from him as he checks himself over once more, then turns to nod at you.

“I know, it’s tough but you’re strong.  You’ll survive this.  Hwaiting!” He raises both fists to you before saluting.

Snorting at his antics, you just shake your head and return to your email to send it.

“Yeah yeah, have fun, catch lots of fish, yadda yadda, don’t get eaten by a shark…” 

Before you can finish, the door is swinging shut, the sound of Jin singing loudly slowly fading down the hall as he leaves.

“Dumbass,” you mutter, unable to keep the smile off your face.  

Closing your laptop, you stretch and look around your now empty apartment.

“Ah, freedom for a night!” You say to the walls, bouncing up to go change into something comfier.  

The plan for the evening is to lounge around and watch some music videos, cooing over your current idol crush all while not wearing pants.

Letting your mind wander, you calculate how long Jin has been staying with you.

A little over a month at this point, you think.  

He’d just gotten the call this week that his place would be ready very soon, so he wouldn’t be here much longer.

Though, it was no hardship to cohabitate with him, definitely not.

Most of the time, it was more comforting knowing someone was around, even if he steals your used towels and laughs like a hyena.

Still…

You love your best friend, but a girl needs her alone time.

When was the last time you even got a chance to release some pent up sexual frustration?

You’re not entirely sure how it’s been for him, but you know for sure that it was a little too weird to even make use of your special drawer next to your bed knowing he could be listening in at any time.  

Not that you’re ashamed of masturbating, but there was also the idea of making him uncomfortable as your guest.

Though, in reality, you know he’s more likely to bring it up at breakfast and tease you about vibrator noises than feel embarrassed over it, like he did last time.

Regardless, it has been a while since you’ve even gone on a date, let alone had any physical encounters.

It’s not necessarily a plan to do anything tonight, but knowing that if you get in the mood you can do so openly.

“Right on the couch!” You announce, letting out a little cackle as you toss on an oversized nightshirt, sans bra.  

Ahh liberation, you think, stopping to contemplate your special toy drawer.

“I'll be back for you later, Dannie.” You pat your little end table as you shuffle out to the couch, plopping down and not giving two shits if your panties are showing.

Smug and content, you settle in for a nice, cozy, intimate evening with yourself…and maybe a few named friends.

Deciding against getting too freaky right away, you find yourself lounging happy on the couch.

A little over an hour has passed since you turned on the newest music on YouTube when you hear the sound of the door being unlocked .

Stiffening, you sit up straight, tense at the unexpected intrusion.

Who else had a key besides you and Jin??

Confused, and grateful you’d stopped singing at the top of your lungs due to the song ending, you feel your heart leap into your throat a moment before the door swings open to reveal Jin.

Blowing out a relieved breath, you place your hand over your heart.  

“Holy shit, Jin!” You almost yell, falling back on the couch, fear dissipating into annoyance.

His big, wide eyes blink absently at you, confusion written all over his face.

“Sorry, sorry, I should have texted.  The trip got canceled at the last minute so we ate before I came back.” He sighs, tossing his bag on a nearby table as he removes his shoes.

“Well that sucks,” you say, glancing at your phone.  “At least they fed you.”

He just nods, finally turning to face you and take in the scene.

“Did I interrupt?” He asks, leaning against the door frame as he scans you.

Unwilling to give him the pleasure of your embarrassment, you just feign annoyance as he gives you a cheeky smirk.

“Never seen a girl without her pants on before, Jin? I understand.” You shoot back, turning back to your TV, using the remote to pretend to look for something to watch.

He snorts, huffing out a laugh.

“You know, if you missed my handsome face that much, you could have just told me.” 

“Ha!” You retort, rolling your eyes, “There goes my plans to masturbate on the couch to porn, not to you.”  

Instead of laughing or walking away, the frustrating man just waltzes over, plopping himself down beside you.  

“Oh by all means, don’t let me stop you.”  He gestures to the TV, never taking his eyes from you.

Oh here we go, you think, narrowing your eyes at him.

Eyeing the arm he tosses casually across the back of the couch behind you, you fight the urge to elbow him in the gut.

It always starts like this with you two.

Your mouth is faster than your brain half the time when he says infuriating things, and vice versa.

It's the majority of the reason you get along so well, but also the reason for some serious competitive moments.

The self congratulatory look on his face says it all; he thinks he’s already won and you can’t have that.

“The last thing I’d want is to embarrass you by showing you something you’ve never seen before.” Your eyes are locked on the television as you try to ignore his gaze.

He chuckles, relaxing as he gestures to the screen, “Oh please, as if Namjoon hasn’t ruined computers downloading-” he starts but you cut him off.

“Oh I don’t mean porn, Jin. I mean you seeing a woman experiencing pleasure in your company.” 

It’s almost adorable how his lips twist up and purse, and you can’t help but gloat inwardly as the barb hits its intended target.

Before you can bask in the early victory, he’s leaning in close and you can’t help but shiver at how his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear.

“Perhaps if you had better taste in men, you wouldn’t have to rely on that little stash of fake dicks in your drawer so much.” 

Swallowing, your eyes narrow at his comment even as his fingertips dip into the strands of your hair to tease at the nape of your neck.

He chuckles softly, blowing gently into your ear as you seethe, your mind reeling because that one is a little too close to home, and he promised to never bring that up again.  

You can feel your cheeks stain as you struggle to not let him win this one.

“That one hurt, didn’t it?” He teases and you just nudge him with your shoulder as you turn to glare at him.  “If your taste ever improves and you need a real man to show you-”

He winks and you just snort at him, unwilling to concede that his little touches and nearness is affecting you much more than his taunts are right now.

You can’t stop yourself from leaning in closer to him, reaching up to brush back a strand of dark hair from his brow.  

“Oh don’t worry, Seokjin.  I’ll make sure to call Hoseok.” 

His eyes fly wide open at your words, head snapping back as he blinks at you in his typical dramatic way.

“HOSEOK?” He yells, and you can’t help but start giggling as he goes to grab you, dodging him and rolling off the couch before bouncing up to stick your tongue out at him.

“What’s wrong, Jin? Jealous?” 

You dance over near your door to put some space between you, giddy at watching the vein in his neck pulse and his jaw clench.

You don’t know why, but sometimes invoking Hoseok’s name just gets the best reaction out of him.

His eyebrows shoot up as he slowly stands, and the stern look on his face has your stomach doing somersaults.

God, why is he so hot? You think off handedly, trying not to admire the width of those goddamn shoulders.

“Are you scared?” He retorts, ignoring your question, eyeing you as you go on the defensive.  

You let out a huff, pretending to toss your hair as you eye him from head to toe.

“Scared? Of you? Unlikely, I could have you pinned in an instant.”  

It’s his turn to scoff at you, and he raises a hand and gestures at you, beckoning you over.  

“Come here and prove it then.” he taunts, giving you his signature smirk.

There’s a beat of silence as you stare one another down and you tense before you toss out your next words.

“Make me.”

The tension in the room builds as his eyes seem to darken, hardening yet dancing with excitement as he lowers his head.  

The squeal you let out echoes through the room as he finally springs towards you, your heart thumping wildly as he rushes at you.  

Barely evading him, you dart into the kitchen, putting the island between you as he chases, feigning back and forth before sprinting back into the living room, then down the hallway.  

“You can’t outrun me-!” He calls out, and you can’t refute that fact, but you’re sure as hell going to try.

Laughing and shrieking, fear and excitement coursing through you, you can feel him gaining and you make the mistake of looking back over your shoulder to check.

Unfortunately, this causes you to overshoot the door to your room, allowing him to all but slam into you as he wraps his arm around your waist from behind. 

Lifting you and spinning you as you kick your feet, you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Make you, huh?” He pants, forcing you around so you’re facing him.

You can’t stop letting out little giggles and yelps as he cages you against the wall, grasping one of your wrists to hold you in place. 

As if his body pressing you against the wall isn’t enough to keep you there.

Catching your breath, you try to stop laughing as you suck in air.  

“Mmm, yes make me.” you quip, looking defiantly up at him.  

His dark eyes flit back and forth across your face, then down at how he has you pinned to the wall, then back up again.

His throat bobs as he swallows heavily and the reality of the position you’re in suddenly hits you.

His body pressed against you, arm over your head, the bulge in his pants stiff against your thigh.

Breath hitching, tamping down on the arousal that slams through-you just blurt out with a laugh,

“Kim Seokjin, are you hard?”

The rosy tinge that creeps up his neck fascinates you as you wiggle your hips a little, causing him to gasp and he loosens his hold on your wrist in shock.

“Thinking about Hoseok gets you going, eh?” You tease, taking advantage of the moment to slip under his arm and rush into his room with a cackle.

Your head is spinning at just how much you want to find out what would happen if you explored this avenue, your body reacting to everything much faster than your brain can talk any sense into it.

Your name echoes through the apartment in a deeper tone than you’re used to him using, almost in warning as you leap onto his bed to scramble away from him and possibly find something to use for bartering.

Maybe his plushie-?

Shit, my ass is completely exposed, you think a brief moment before you feel his hand clamp around your ankle like a vice.

The thought that this is an extremely dangerous situation for you both flits through your mind as he yanks you down the bed towards him and easily flips you over, his weight landing on you as he pins you down.

“You’re such a little shit, you know?” He states simply, battling with your arms as you attempt to tickle him, finally managing to restrain you by holding your wrists down on either side of your head.  

Assessing your current position, you can’t see any path to freedom as you wriggle beneath him, your tangled limbs combined with his full weight on you not allowing for a way out.

Snickering at his comment, you only nod happily as he stares down at you in a mixture of frustration and…amusement?

Something has his eyes gleaming as his chest heaves against yours.  

Countless times you’ve played this little cat and mouse game, and countless times you’ve found yourself in positions much like this with Jin.

But for some reason, tonight feels different, as if there’s a tight rope you’re both walking and one little slip up will have you both falling into unknown depths.

It’s as if time stands still as the tension in your stomach coils, both of you studying one another as if silently daring the other to push.  

“I know.” You say, your voice huskier than you’re used to hearing it.

Shifting, you swear you can feel the pulse in his erection against your inner thigh and you involuntarily clench as your mind battles with your rising lust.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” He states, definitely not a question.  

“I’m not.” you reply, acknowledging how your nipples have been responding to his chest rubbing against yours.

“I won…but you’re cheating.” His voice is softer now, yet there’s an edge to it that has you wanting to rub your thighs together to ease this tension.

If only he wasn’t pinning you down.

“Lies.” You claim, but your body rebels eagerly as you wiggle beneath him.

A small struggle ensues until you manage to push your legs open so that his very sizable cock is pressing right where you want him most.

What am I doing? 

The thought is fleeting as much more important needs are making themselves known.

The breath leaves Jin in a woosh, followed by a soft groan as his hips jerk forward against you.

Heat spreads through you as the entire situation teeters on the limits of just playing around, and you know that if one of you doesn’t give in then this could be a very complicated predicament.

Yet, the “giving in” you desire most right now isn’t putting a halt to things. 

Heat pools in your lower abdomen as your buried, forbidden longing claws its way to the surface to make itself known.

“Admit defeat.” You finally say, even as your hips lift against him.  

You can’t help but relish the way his eyes roll, his lips pursing as he lets out a grunt at your tactics.  

Silence fills the room as you both search one another’s eyes, asking something that you can’t form the words for. 

“Is that what you really want?” He inquires softly, head tilting as his eyes flit back and forth as if implying something much more than simply giving up.

Only a moment ticks by before you nod once, your heart beating in your throat, then he says one simple thing that changes everything.

“You win.”

His mouth is on yours before you can take another breath.

The hands gripping your wrists disappear and your arms are snaking around his neck, his fingers slipping behind your neck as he rubs his thumb against your pulse.  

A low keening noise leaves your throat as his plush lips dance over yours, his tongue slipping along the seam as you open eagerly for him.

Fuck he can kiss, you think dizzily, even as his free hand slips down to tug at your shirt hem.  

Time stretches and compacts as you both tear at each other’s clothing in a frenzy, only parting lips to tug one another’s shirts over your heads to toss them away.

His scent overwhelms you, his own natural scent of nectar mixed with the cedar and fig of his cologne. 

It’s a fragrance you’ve always loved but now it’s spiraling you out of control as moisture pools in the fabric of your panties.

You breathe a wanton moan into his mouth as his large hand cups your tender breast, kneading and brushing the pad of his thumb across your taut nipple.

“Brat.” he groans as your back arches at his touch, his lips skimming down the column of your throat.  

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your other hand traces a path down his spine.  

“Prick,” you retort, even as his teeth nip at your collarbone.  

“Shut up.” he grunts as your legs wrap around him.

“Fuck me,” you respond in kind even as his hand leaves your neck to slip between you, yanking desperately at the button of his pants.

His only reply is freeing himself finally, kicking off the rest of his clothing then assisting you as you tear at your panties, not even caring if they’re ripped in the process.

You’ve both gone beyond the point of asking at this point.

You cry out in euphoria as he only takes a moment to look down between you to position himself before he’s thrusting deep within you.

Your blended moans are swallowed as his lips crash against yours once more, his tongue plunging into the depths of your mouth as he stretches you deliciously.  

Tears prick the back of your eyelids at the insanity of it all, the heady mixture of pleasure and relief, the almost sacrilegious act you’re both committing.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more than you want this right now, with him.

The thought has your head spinning, pushing the implication of it away as you rake your fingernails down his back, his deep moans followed up by soft whines barreling you inevitably to a rapid climax.

Before you can even fully realize it, you’re clamping tightly around him and breaking the kiss to scream his name loudly as your climax rips through your entire being.

Your name drips from his lips as sweat drips from his brow, his face contorted in beautiful ecstasy as you pry your eyes open, needing to see him as his hips snap against yours.  

“Again, let me see you-” he gasps out, lowering his forehead to yours, his eyes locked on yours.

You can only nod as you swallow harshly, cradling his head as you grasp at his shoulders, unable to look away as his wordless cries grow louder and more desperate.

His lush lips part, his cheeks flushed gloriously as you urge him with your eyes, with your hips, with your cries to let go for you; with you.

His hips stutter as you feel yet another orgasm tear through you, his moans reaching a crescendo as he thrusts forward one final time, emptying within you in a hot flood.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck as his entire body quakes, hips stuttering erratically as he collapses fully onto you.

Your fingers comb through his now damp hair, a layer of sweat clinging to both of you from the exertion as you both attempt to regulate your breathing.  

You can feel his heart racing against your naked breasts, and time extends as you both lay entangled in a spent heap.  

“Jin-” is all you manage before he’s shushing you, lifting himself before his mouth is covering yours, silencing whatever it was you are about to say.  

As your sanity slowly returns, you open your mouth to say something, anything. 

Grateful, you surrender to his wordless command.

It’s not as if anything you could say now would make any sense after that.

Darkness surrounds you as you open your eyes slowly, the fog of sleep clearing as you feel a heavy weight pressing on your chest.

Reality slams into you as the crown of Jin’s head becomes slightly visible in the dim room.  

Your heart thumps as you gaze at him, cheek pressed against your left breast as he breathes softly in his sleep.

The ache between your legs is far too welcoming as you study his gorgeous pouty lips, his dark lashes only highlighting how handsome he is, especially like this.

You tentatively reach up to caress his cheek, gently tracing his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his lower lip.  

He snuggles you at the touch, his lips twitching in an almost smile as he smacks his lips happily in his sleep.  

Oh fuck this is so dangerous, you think, panic washing through you.  

What the fuck did we just do?

Feeling dread wash over you, all you can think to do is slowly extract yourself from the slumbering man, pausing every so often as he stirs until you can slip from the bed.

Before you can collect your thoughts, you need to get away from him…now.  

As you shut his door softly, you place your hand over your heart as your mind races.  

The last thing you expected was to be sneaking out of Jin’s room with his semen leaking down your thighs.  

Scurrying to the bathroom, you barely manage to suppress the frustrated scream bubbling up in your throat.

Did you just ruin your perfect friendship?

[mmegwrld]

✎⋆。𖦹 LIPSTICK + kim seokjin

jin’s been hiding something big—something personal, soft, and totally unexpected. hoseok and jungkook turn into accidental detectives as they follow a trail of subtle clues. the truth is closer than ever… and they’re not ready for it.

word count : 4.9k

genre : FLUFF!

warnings : idol! jin x mangers niece! reader, this is mostly in hobi & jk's pov, kissing, the reader has long enough hair to put up... sorry to my bob people, swearing, invasion of privacy(?) LOL, longggg ficccc

a/n : idk if i like this one but i hope y'all do!!! LOL... and this is the longest one ive ever written sooo

masterlist

the other 6 members already knew that the oldest member of bangtan was pretty to himself. he was outgoing, funny and nice but they didn’t know much about his outside friends… or life. 

but what they didn’t expect was for him to hide a secret girlfriend from them!

it was supposed to be a quick trip. just snacks and something sweet jin had been craving all week. he insisted on coming with you, claiming he needed a break from the dorm chaos. you didn’t argue, anytime alone with him felt rare and golden.

the hoodie he wore was pulled low, mask snug over his face, but you could still see the way his eyes softened when you teased him about being clingy. his arm never left your shoulders, not even when you leaned down to grab something from the lower shelf.

“you’re gonna start a rumor like this,” you whispered, nudging him playfully. “let them talk,” he murmured, then leaned in closer. “you’re mine.”

you laughed softly, just for him and he grinned like he’d just won something. around the corner, out of sight, hoseok froze with a box of lucky charms halfway to his basket.

he didn’t mean to eavesdrop—okay, maybe he did a little but it was jin. jin, of all people, looking suspiciously boyfriendy with a girl whose face he couldn’t see. he couldn’t even catch her voice clearly, just the sound of laughter and that familiar teasing tone that jin usually reserved for the guys.

hoseok ducked back, peeking again, squinting to get a better look. still nothing. just the back of a girl. long sleeves, uggs, hair pulled up with a grey colored hair tye. jin’s arm around her shoulders like it belonged there.

his mouth dropped open, “no way.”

this was big. like jin big. and he was absolutely telling the others. 

7 bangs

hobi: guys. emergency.

yoongi: if this is about cereal again

hobi: NO LISTEN

hobi: i saw jin

joon: okay…?

hobi: WITH A GIRL

tae: LMAO STOP

jk: what kind of girl???

hobi: like. a girl girl. pretty. soft looking. LAUGHING AT HIS JOKES

joon: okay but that doesn’t mean anything

hobi: HIS ARM WAS AROUND HER

tae: NOOOOOOOO

jk: hyung’s got game??

yoongi: impossible.

back at your apartment, you were curled up on the couch beside jin, phone tucked under your thigh just in case it buzzed. he had no idea what had just been unleashed in the group chat. his focus was on feeding you a strawberry, pretending like he wasn’t proud of himself when you took a bite.

meanwhile, hoseok paced the living room upstairs, practically dragging jungkook and taehyung behind him. “okay, listen— he had his arm around her. that’s not just friendly. that’s ‘we’re definitely dating and we share fries’ energy.”

“and you didn’t see her face?” jungkook asked, pulling out his phone. “could’ve been a staff member.” 

“nope. i only saw the back of her. but jin was all smiley. like smiley smiley.” taehyung gasped, “wait. what if it’s that new intern? the one from the music department?”

“no way, that girl has really short hair,” hoseok said, shaking his head. “this girl had her hair pulled up and had on the tan uggs.”

jungkook typed something into his notes, “okay. so we’re looking for someone with hair long enough to put up, tan uggs, soft laugh, short enough for him to wrap his arm around comfortably—”

“you guys are insane,” yoongi called from his room. “INSANE OR RIGHT?” taehyung yelled back.

“both,” yoongi muttered, closing his door. 

jungkook and hoseok had to find out who you were. 

clue #1

it was a lazy afternoon, the kind of day when the dorm felt quieter than usual. the members were all doing their own thing, except for hoseok and jungkook, who had taken it upon themselves to investigate jin’s mysterious “girlfriend.”

they’d been watching him closely, catching little details that seemed off. but today, they were getting more… invasive.

it started with jin’s car.

“i bet he keeps something there,” hoseok said, glancing over at jungkook as they stood by the parked vehicle. “think about it. he’s always so careful, so there’s gotta be a hint in here somewhere.”

jungkook shrugged, "let’s look.”

rhey both climbed into the back seat, knowing the coast was clear since jin had left to grab lunch with the others. jungkook opened the glove compartment first, half-expecting to find something incriminating. Instead, it was filled with the usual—maps, receipts, and old concert tickets.

“nothing here,” he said, scanning the rest of the compartment.

but then hoseok spotted something behind the passenger seat—a small, neatly folded grey hoodie, way too soft to be something jin would wear. he grabbed it, his eyes narrowing.

“this is definitely not his.” jungkook raised an eyebrow. “that’s… not his style at all. maybe it’s from the girl?”

hoseok held it up. “i bet it is. it’s way too cute for him. and it’s got that… scent.” he sniffed it dramatically. “yeah, this is definitely hers.”

clue #2

a few days later, the group had gone to the studio to record, but hoseok and jungkook stayed behind, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. the last few days had been filled with jin’s weirdly private behavior, and they were so close to cracking the case.

hoseok motioned to jungkook as they snuck into jin’s room.

“alright, we’ve checked the car, the apartment… now it’s time to check his phone.” jungkook looked a little uneasy. “isn’t that a little—”

“not if we’re careful.” hoseok grinned, sliding onto jin’s bed and grabbing the phone off the nightstand when it buzzed. “see? he’s being all secretive and leaves it unlocked. perfect.”

jungkook hesitated, but the curiosity was too much. “alright, fine. but we better not get caught.”

they opened the phone, quickly scanning through his messages. most of them were from the guys, but there were a few from a contact they didn’t recognize. the name was simply “(name),” and there were an overwhelming amount of heart emojis in each conversation.

hoseok’s eyebrows shot up. “(name)? who the heck is that?” jungkook frowned. “could be her name… but why does it feel like he’s trying so hard to hide this?”

they scroll through the texts, giggling over a particularly sweet message where jin said, “i can’t wait to see you later. i miss your laugh.”

“well, that’s adorable,” jungkook said, a grin forming.

hoseok’s face lit up as he clicked on the photo gallery, and they scrolled through pictures of jin with various members, but nothing to indicate who (name) was—until they reached the very last photo.

it was a picture of jin and a girl, back to the camera, standing in front of a cafe with their arms around each other, both laughing.

“wait,” hoseok squinted. “is that… her?”

jungkook leaned closer, eyes widening. the girl had the exact hair, a white sweater, and from the back, it looked almost like… “no way. that’s her, isn’t it?”

just as they were about to zoom in on the photo, the door clicked open. jin’s voice echoed from the hallway. “hey, i left my—”

both of them jumped, scrambling to put the phone back down and pretend like nothing had happened.

jungkook flashed a nervous smile. “uh, we were just—uh—checking the room for, uh, a game controller?” 

hoseok quickly grabbed a random magazine off the desk. “yeah, yeah! totally not snooping or anything.”

jin walked in with an unreadable look, casually shrugging off his jacket. “i don’t know why you two are acting so suspicious, but sure, okay.”

they both tried to act casual, but the moment jin left the room again, hoseok and jungkook exchanged looks. “well, we know it’s (name) now,” jungkook muttered, flopping onto the bed. “but who is she? what does she do?”

hoseok scratched his head, “i don’t know, but i have a feeling we’re gonna find out soon enough.” they exchanged a knowing look. jin wasn’t fooling anyone anymore.

clue #3

jin was getting ready for a date with you, he glances at his watch constantly. hoseok and jungkook narrowed their eyes at him.

jin yelled from upstairs, “hey! can one of you grab my wallet! it’s in the kitchen,” without thinking they both jumped up. “got it!” they both say in sync. 

hoseok grabbed the wallet, a photo slipping out as they walked back. jungkook picked it up, gasping softly. rhe photo wasn’t a polaroid or anything fancy—just a simple picture of a girl, laughing in the sun, her hair framing her face perfectly. she had that soft, gentle look. 

jungkook stared at the photo, his eyes widening in realization. “that’s her. this is her. this is the girl.”

for a moment, neither of them said anything. they just stared at the picture in silence, trying to put the pieces together. it was all coming to a head—jin had been hiding you this entire time. they had a face to match the laughter they’d heard over the past few days. and it was real. this wasn’t some rumor. this was jin’s girlfriend.

just as they were about to snap out of their daze, they heard jin’s voice from the hallway, “hey, did you guys—?”

without thinking, jungkook stuffed the wallet back into the bag and slammed it shut. “nothing! we were just… uh, admiring your wallet, hyung!” hoseok said with an overly bright grin, obviously too guilty for it to be believable.

jin raised an eyebrow as he walked into the room, looking from one to the other. “what’d you find?”

jungkook was still a little breathless, trying to cover it up. “oh, nothing. just, uh, saw a picture of you in there.”

jin’s lips twitched upward in a smile, but he didn’t seem to notice their subtle panic. “oh, that’s just a picture of… someone special.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “you know, the usual.”

“uh-huh, sure, hyung,” hoseok said, trying to play it cool. “the usual.”

as jin left the room again, the door closing quietly behind him, the tension lingered in the air. jungkook and hoseok exchanged looks—both of them still processing what they’d just seen.

clue #4

the guys were rehearsing in the dance studio, and everything was going smoothly until jin walked in.

hoseok was in the middle of practicing some new footwork when he saw jin enter through the door. his eyes narrowed immediately. something was off.

jon was usually a bit casual after practice, but today, he was… different. his hair was messier than usual, like he’d been running his hands through it in a hurry. and there, on the side of his neck, was a red lipstick stain. not just one—it looked like there were a few, scattered like perfectly placed kiss marks.

on his bicep, was another faint lipstick stain. and from the way he was trying to subtly adjust his jacket, it was clear he didn’t realize just how obvious it was.

hoseok’s eyes practically popped out of his head. “is that…?” he whispered under his breath. jungkook, who was tying his shoe nearby, froze and followed hoseok’s gaze. his eyes widened. “no way.”

jin was totally oblivious as he walked to the center of the studio, tossing his gym bag onto the bench.

“what’s up?” he asked casually, like nothing was wrong, rubbing his neck absently, clearly uncomfortable with the attention he was getting. “why’s everyone staring?”

hoseok was the first to break the silence, a smirk spreading across his face. “hyung… what’s with the, uh, marks?”

jin blinked and instinctively raised a hand to his neck, realizing immediately what hoseok was referring to. he quickly straightened up, trying to act normal, but the stain was already glaringly obvious.

“ah,” he said with a forced chuckle, his cheeks turning a little pink. “i… uh… bumped into someone this morning. got a little too… friendly with the mirror.” he gave a weak laugh, but hoseok wasn’t buying it.

jungkook leaned in, pointing at the lipstick marks. “bumped into the mirror? really? i didn’t know mirrors gave out lipstick stains, hyung.”

jin fumbled for something to say, his usual confidence faltering just a little. “it’s— it’s nothing. really. just a little… accident.”

“uh-huh,” hoseok said, raising an eyebrow. “accident? that doesn’t look like an accident. that looks like a very intentional moment of affection.”

jungkook was biting back a grin. “sid she leave a note, hyung? or was it more of a we’ll pretend this never happened kind of deal?”

jin groaned, rubbing his neck again. “okay, okay. i get it. you two are detectives now.” he shot them a pointed look. “but can we please focus? we’ve got practice to get to.”

despite his protests, hoseok and jungkook couldn’t stop teasing. “so, when can we meet her, hyung?” hoseok asked with a wink. “we’ll definitely be watching out for that lipstick.”

“yeah, i’m sure she’s got great taste,” jungkook added, clearly enjoying himself. jin’s face flushed, “that’s it. i’m done. i’m leaving.” he turned to walk out, his embarrassment evident.

before he could escape, hoseok called out, “hey! don’t think you’re getting away without us finding out who she is.”

jin paused in the doorway, rolling his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “you’ll find out… eventually.”

as the door clicked shut, hoseok and jungkook exchanged a look. “we are so getting closer to figuring this out,” jungkook said, his grin wide.

clue #5

hoseok was standing in front of the stove with a wooden spoon in his hand and a completely lost look on his face. “this… doesn’t look right,” he muttered, eyeing the bubbling pot of what was supposed to be ramen.

jungkook leaned over his shoulder, wrinkling his nose. “is that… cheese? when did we put cheese in this?” “i thought it’d make it better!” hoseok groaned. “but now it’s just a mess.”

hoseok grabbed his phone. “okay, emergency. we’re calling jin-hyung.”

within a few rings, jin picked up, sounding casual as ever. “yo,” he said. “what’s up?”

“hyung, we’re dying. come save us,” hoseok said dramatically. “we tried cooking and—well, the kitchen’s not on fire, but it’s not not on fire.”

jin laughed, but before he could reply, a soft voice chimed in from the background on his end—your voice. light and bubbly, followed by the sound of giggling.

“you’re so mean—” you said between laughs, too far from the mic to be clear, but definitely close enough to be heard.

hoseok froze.

jungkook’s eyes widened.

there was a short pause.

“hyung?” jungkook said slowly, leaning closer to the phone. “who… was that?”

“huh?” jin replied quickly. a little too quickly. “no one. tv.” hoseok raised an eyebrow. “that didn’t sound like the tv.”

“really? must’ve been a rom-com,” jin said casually, but there was something off in his voice—like he was trying not to laugh. another small giggle came through the line, muffled this time, but still clearly real.

“HYUNG,” hoseok gasped. “you’re not alone!”

jom didn’t respond right away.

“jin,” jungkook said again, now grinning. “is someone there with you? like, someone someone?”

“i’m hanging up now,” Jin muttered, flustered, and the call immediately ended.

the silence in the kitchen was deafening before hoseok let out a gasp and smacked jungkook’s arm. 

“did you hear that?”

jungkook was already jumping in place. “that’s her! that has to be her!” hoseok nodded excitedly. “that was not a friend. that was a girlfriend laugh. i know that laugh!”

jungkook ran to the living room to grab his phone. “we’re gonna figure this out. she laughed like someone comfortable. like someone who’s been around jin a lot.”

hoseok was already pacing. “and she giggled at something he said! we’re so close, jay kay. so close.”

jungkook flipped open his notes app. “clue #5: heard mystery girl laughing in jin’s house. confirmed she finds him funny. possibly in love. definitely real.”

hoseok grinned, “this is the most exciting thing that’s happened all week.”

clue #6

it started out innocent enough— jin had forgotten his charger at the studio, and jungkook just happened to know the code to his apartment. hoseok, of course, just so happened to tag along.

“we’re literally just dropping it off,” jungkook said, holding up the charger like it was some kind of official delivery. “yeah,” hoseok agreed. “dropping it off and maybe doing a teeny bit of investigating.” 

they stepped inside jin’s apartment, both already scanning the place with eagle eyes. it looked normal—clean, organized, the faint smell of Jin’s cologne lingering in the air. but then hoseok stopped dead in his tracks.

on the couch.

right in the middle.

a perfectly placed hello kitty plush.

jungkook turned around and saw it too, his jaw dropping. “that was not there before.” 

“nope,” hoseok said, slowly walking toward it like it might attack. “that is not jin’s vibe. he’s more… alpacas and mario kart.”

jungkook crouched down in front of the plush, studying it like it was a crime scene clue. “it’s clean. it’s recent. no dust. this… this has been cuddled.”

hoseok gasped, “you think she stayed the night?”

“i think she lives here now,” jungkook whispered dramatically. there was a brief, reverent silence as the two of them stared at the tiny pink bow on hello kitty’s head.

jungkook pulled out his phone. “clue #6: mysterious feminine plush on jin’s couch. highly suspicious. highly cute.”

hoseok nodded seriously. “we’re onto her. she’s leaving breadcrumbs.”

“and we are eating them,” jungkook said proudly.

the final clue.

they were back. again.

at this point, hoseok and jungkook weren’t even pretending to have a reason to be at jin’s apartment—they were just nosy and determined.

“he said he was working all day,” jungkook whispered as they slipped inside, “so we’ve got time to look.”

“just a quick check,” hoseok agreed, eyes scanning the room like a detective in a crime drama. “in and out. we’re not being weird.”

ten seconds later, they were in the kitchen and that’s when hoseok stopped cold. “dude.” he pointed into the sink like it was a pile of gold.

there, sitting on top of jin’s usual black mugs and stainless steel tumblers, was a pastel pink ceramic mug with little strawberries on it. strawberries.

even worse? the words “you’re berry cute” were printed in cursive under the rim. 

jungkook’s mouth dropped open. “oh my god. that is not his.” hoseok picked it up carefully, like it was sacred. “this is hers. she drinks coffee here.”

“it’s got lipstick on the rim,” jungkook whispered, pointing. “she left a mark. this is literal evidence.” hoseok squinted, “same shade as the neck stain, i’m calling it.”

they stood there in stunned silence for a moment, the mug like a trophy between them. “she’s leaving a trail,” jungkook said. “this is marking her territory.”

hoseok nodded like he was decoding a conspiracy. “pink mug. lipstick stain. left in plain sight. she wants us to know.”

jungkook gasped. “she’s taunting us.”

just then, hoseok’s phone buzzed with a text from jin. 

jin: do not touch the pink mug. it’s not yours. 

you were curled up on jin’s couch, legs tucked under you, your hello kitty plush hugged close to your chest. jin was in the kitchen, putting away dishes, when he suddenly laughed under his breath.

you looked over at him, “what’s funny?”

he turned toward you, a playful glint in his eyes. “i think they’re onto us.” you blinked, then smiled slowly. “hobi and jungkook?”

jin nodded, walking over to flop down next to you. “they’ve been acting so weird. asking me random questions. dropping by my place like they’re not obviously snooping. jungkook stared at a mug for like ten minutes.”

you bit your lip to hide your grin, “my mug?” jin raised an eyebrow. “the one that says ‘you’re berry cute’? yeah. that one.”

you laughed, burying your face in the plush. “oh my gosh, no way.” he leaned his head back against the couch, smiling up at the ceiling. “they’ve seen the lipstick stains. the plushie. the photo in my wallet. i think… they’re putting it all together.”

you sat up a little, eyes shining. “do you wanna tell them?” jin turned to you, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “not yet. i wanna see how far they’ll go first.”

you giggled, sliding closer to him until your head rested on his shoulder. “you’re evil.”

“me?” he tilted his head like he was offended. “you’re the one who left the mug out on purpose.” you shrugged, smiling innocently. “maybe i just like watching them suffer.”

he wrapped an arm around you, chuckling. “god, you’re perfect.” you hummed against his shoulder, voice soft. “think they’ll freak out when they realize it’s me?”

“oh, 100%,” jin said. “but it’ll be worth every second.” his plump lips kissed your temple. 

later that week, it was quiet in the building’s lobby when hoseok and jungkook stepped in, still buzzing from their latest theory.

“she’s definitely staying over,” jungkook whispered. “stains, plush, lipstick mug—it’s basically a second home.”

hoseok nodded. “at this point, she’s practically moved in.” Thehey headed toward the practice room, mid-convo, when they heard laughter echoing through the hall.

that laugh.

the one hoseok recognized from the phone call and the grocery store. he froze, “wait. wait—that’s her.” 

they whipped around the corner, and that’s when they saw it.

you were standing near the elevators, casually chatting with your uncle—their manager. your hair was pulled back, a tote bag slung over your shoulder, and you were laughing at something he said, just like the first day hoseok saw you at the store.

and then you turned slightly.

enough for the sunlight to hit your face.

enough for them to see you.

jungkook gasped, “THAT’S HER.”

hoseok eyes went wide, “THAT’S JIN’S GIRLFRIEND.”

you looked over at the sound of movement and locked eyes with them both. there was a flicker of recognition in your expression. you smiled politely.

but it was already too late. jungkook leaned over to hoseok, “that’s the girl from the wallet picture. the laugh. the mug. the everything. it all makes sense now.”

“she’s the niece,” hoseok whispered back, stunned. “she’s the manager’s niece!”

you took a step toward them, casually, with a knowing little smirk on your lips.

“hey,” you greeted, voice calm, sweet, like you hadn’t just shattered every assumption they’d been building for weeks. “you guys have been looking for me, haven’t you?”

they blinked. speechless. mouths open.

“what—how did—?” jungkook stammered.

you just laughed again—that laugh—and suddenly, it wasn’t a mystery anymore. it was hilarious.

jin strolled out of the hallway a second later, throwing an arm around your shoulders like he’d done at the store. “oh,” he said, totally unfazed. “you found her.”

“you—you knew we were snooping?!” hoseok exploded, eyes wide. jin grinned. “Obviously.”

you leaned into jin, laughing. “you guys are terrible spies.” jungkook looked like his soul had just left his body. “this whole time…”

jin nodded proudly, “this whole time.” hoseok groaned, covering his face. “we were literally taking notes.”

you and jin both laughed as you walked past them, hand in hand. “nice mug, by the way,” jungkook muttered under his breath.

you looked back over your shoulder with a wink. “thanks. it’s my favorite.”

[kittenan]

Dream so Real

Pairing: Incubus!Seokjin x Reader Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: Smut, supernatural themes, dream manipulation, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, squirting, spanking, edging, dark romance, dubcon elements (dream manipulation), intense sexual content. Kinks/Themes: Dream play, wet dreams, oral sex (f receiving), finger fuck, squirting, spanking, supernatural seduction, edging, illusionary pleasure, dream and reality blending, dark romance. Word Count: ~3k

For weeks, he haunted you. Every night, the same dream—a tall, dark figure with eyes that burned like embers, his face unfamiliar yet achingly intimate. His voice, smooth as honey and sharp as fire, whispered promises that made your skin flush and your heart race. In those dreams, he touched you, his hands igniting trails of heat that blurred the line between reality and fantasy. You woke each morning breathless, thighs slick, and a hollow ache in your chest that you couldn’t explain.

You thought it was just your mind playing tricks. A fantasy born of loneliness, maybe. But tonight, something was different.

The dream began as it always did. You were in a vast, shadowy room, its walls draped in velvet that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and something darker, like smoke and sin. And there he was, sitting, manspreading in the center of the room, his silhouette sharp against the flickering candlelight.

Seokjin.

That was the name he’d given you in the dreams, his lips curling around the syllables like a secret. His beauty was otherworldly—high cheekbones, plush lips, and eyes that seemed to see straight through you. Tonight, he wore a tailored black suit with fury jacket that clung to his broad shoulders, the top buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a sliver of golden skin. He tilted his head, studying you with a predatory glint.

“You’re here again,” he said, his voice low and resonant, sending a shiver down your spine. “Do you even realize what you’re doing, coming back to me night after night?”

You swallowed, your throat dry. “It’s just a dream,” you whispered, though the words felt fragile, like they might shatter under his gaze.

He stepped closer, and the air around you seemed to hum with energy. “You think it’s just a dream, don’t you?” His lips curved into a smile that was both beautiful and dangerous. “But I can make you feel everything. All of it, in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Before you could respond, he was in front of you, his presence overwhelming. His hand brushed your cheek, and the touch was electric, sending sparks skittering across your skin. You gasped, and he chuckled, the sound dark and intimate.

“Let me show you,” he murmured.

The room dissolved, and suddenly you were lying on a bed of silk, the sheets cool against your heated skin. You were bare, your clothes gone as if they’d never existed, and Seokjin loomed over you, his eyes drinking you in. His fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, and lower, teasing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Your nipples hardened under his touch, and you arched into him, a moan slipping from your lips.

“Sensitive,” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re already so responsive, and I’ve barely begun.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you want this.”

“I—” Your voice trembled, caught between desire and the nagging sense that this was too real, too vivid. But the heat pooling between your thighs drowned out your doubts. “I want it.”

That was all he needed.

His mouth descended on yours, the kiss hungry and consuming. His tongue teased yours, coaxing soft whimpers from you as his hands roamed your body. He pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until you were squirming beneath him, the pleasure sharp and almost painful. When he pulled back, his lips were swollen, his eyes dark with lust.

“You taste like desperation,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He moved lower, his lips trailing a scorching path down your body. He kissed the curve of your stomach, the dip of your hip, and then he was between your thighs, spreading them wide with strong hands. You were already dripping, your arousal glistening in the dim light, and he groaned at the sight.

“Look at you,” he said, his breath hot against your core. “So wet for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, and you cried out, your hips bucking. He held you down, his grip firm, and began to devour you. His tongue was relentless, circling and sucking, each movement precise and devastating. He licked long, slow stripes up your folds, then plunged his tongue inside you, fucking you with it until you were trembling. The pleasure was overwhelming, building too fast, and you gripped the sheets, your knuckles white.

“Seokjin,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “I’m—I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling back just as you teetered on the edge. You whined, your body aching with the loss, but he only smirked. “You don’t come until I say you can.”

He slid two fingers inside you, curling them against that spot that made you see stars. His pace was merciless, his fingers pumping in and out while his thumb circled your clit. The wet sounds of your arousal filled the air, obscene and intoxicating. He added a third finger, stretching you, and the pressure was almost too much. You were babbling now, incoherent pleas spilling from your lips as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, only to pull back again.

“Please,” you sobbed, tears pricking your eyes. “Please, let me come.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “You want to come? Then beg for it.”

“Please, Seokjin,” you whimpered, your voice raw. “I need it. I need you. Please, let me come.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and satisfied. “Good girl.”

His fingers thrust deep, his thumb pressing hard against your clit, and he sucked your nipple into his mouth, biting down just enough to sting. The combination was too much. Your orgasm crashed over you, a tidal wave of pleasure that left you screaming his name. Your body shook, your vision blurring as you gushed around his fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you.

He didn’t stop, his fingers still moving, drawing out every last shudder until you were a whimpering mess. When he finally pulled away, his fingers were slick with your release, and he brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a groan.

“Delicious,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so you were on your knees. Before you could catch your breath, his hand came down on your ass, the sharp sting making you yelp. He spanked you again, harder this time, and the pain mingled with pleasure in a way that made your head spin.

“You like that, don’t you?” he said, his voice thick with desire. “You’re trembling for me.”

Another smack, then another, each one sending jolts of heat straight to your core. Your ass burned, but you pushed back against him, craving more. He laughed, low and wicked, and then his fingers were inside you again, fucking you through the aftershocks of your spanking.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned. “So perfect. I could keep you like this forever.”

The world tilted, and suddenly you were back in that shadowy room, standing before him. His hands were on you, his touch everywhere at once, and you realized the dream was shifting, bending to his will. He was inside your mind, weaving pleasure and pain into a tapestry that left you dizzy.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he whispered, his lips brushing your neck. “This isn’t just a dream. It’s real. I’m real.”

And then you woke up.

Your eyes snapped open, your body slick with sweat, your thighs sticky with your own release. Your heart pounded, and you gasped for air, the room spinning. You were in your bed, the familiar outlines of your bedroom barely visible in the pre-dawn light. But something was wrong.

The air was too heavy. The scent of jasmine and smoke lingered.

And then you saw him.

Seokjin sat at the edge of your bed, his form solid and real, his eyes glowing faintly in the dark. He was exactly as he’d been in the dream—beautiful, dangerous, and utterly undeniable.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice soft but laced with hunger. “But you’re not free of me.”

You scrambled back, your heart racing. “This—this isn’t possible. You’re not real.”

He tilted his head, his smile almost pitying. “Oh, darling, I’m very real. And you’ve been calling to me, night after night, letting me in.” He leaned closer, his fingers brushing your cheek, and the touch was just as electric as it had been in the dream. “You wanted me. You begged for me. And now I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

Your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your core at his words. You should have been terrified, but all you could feel was need—raw, aching need. He saw it in your eyes and smirked, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he said, his voice a challenge. “Tell me to leave, and I will.”

But you couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding you still wet and ready.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

He pushed you back onto the bed, his movements swift and sure. His mouth was on you again, licking and sucking until you were writhing beneath him, your hands fisted in his hair. He brought you to the edge over and over, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony, until you were sobbing his name, your body trembling with the force of your need.

When he finally let you come, it was like the world shattered. You screamed, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure tore through you. You squirted again, soaking him, and he groaned, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

He didn’t stop there. He fucked you with his fingers, his tongue, his very presence, until you were a boneless, trembling mess, your mind half-lost to the haze of pleasure. And when he finally pulled back, his lips glistening with your release, he looked at you like you were his entire world.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding. “In dreams and in reality. There’s no escaping me.”

And as he faded into the shadows, leaving you breathless and sated, you knew he was right.

Taglist: @the-djarin-clan  . @bebabido , @btsstraykidsateez

[helenazbmrskai]

Textbook Love (m) - KSJ

Title [Textbook Love] previously known as Mr Dream Writer!

Pairing [Best Friend’s Brother! Seokjin x Writer! Reader]

Genre [smut, angst, fluff, best friend’s brother AU, friends to lovers, slice of life]

Summary [Loving your best friend’s brother is forbidden so what is even more forbidden you might ask. It’s writing smut about him. Can you still remain friends after he discovers your secrets?]

Words [11,6k]

Warnings [sexual content: oral sex (f and m receiving), morning wood, sexual tension, subby jin, dom reader, teasing, blowjob, lots of kisses, jin comes in his pants, possessiveness, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie]

Rating [+18]

A/N: Hii! Some of you might know this story (it was a series previously) but I made it into a one-shot and finished it also made some changes in the plot. Now that Jinie is home I wanted to write something about him. Please enjoy!

Masterlist //

Kim Seokjin. Jin or Jinie shortened for friends and family. Your bestest friend’s older brother and your current roommate of five months, nine hours and – a brief look at your wristwatch – twenty minutes.

He’s tall with shoulders as wide as the ocean. Could take over the model industry at any moment. But also born with a heart of gold.

He’s like the warmest of summers, the orange hues of the sunset. Shines so bright in the darkness of the night sky that you’re afraid of getting hurt if you dare to approach him carelessly but if he’s the sun then you’re the moon. The opposite that, unfortunately – doesn’t attract.

If it wasn’t obvious from the intro you put together, remind you, to read this from the first page of your diary you’re here to spell this out. You have the biggest crush on Seokjin. Ever since he caught you three years ago when you almost fell off of the cruise boat on a family vacation while mindlessly looking at the water below. You could still remember how it felt to be inside his arms. How quick your heart raced not just because of the adrenalin but by being held by him. Your back was pressed against his chest and his fingers dug into your waist to keep both of your balance. His breath hit the shell of your ear when he asked in his sexy voice are you alright. Your heart was beating so fast for him. You swear at that exact moment his mom knew what you were thinking.

You childishly filled several notebooks with his name on every page with little pink hearts and his handsome face became a reoccurring figure in your dreams at night. It’s cliché to fall in love with your best friend’s brother and sadly it’s not how the romance novels you like to read portray it where you fall but he falls harder. No –

That daydream ending doesn’t come near you at all.

So you write your own books instead where you magically fall in love with Jin and he reciprocate your feelings.

Jin never had a girlfriend after he ended things with his last one three years ago. He mostly dealt with his heartbreak by the time you started developing your feelings for him but the timing never seemed to be right to tell him how you feel. It felt like you were longing for someone’s love and attention whose heart isn’t available yet.

You did not dare to speak up.

Sometimes you can’t help it. Hope flares in your heart. His intentions are pure but you can’t help but put more meaning behind it as you see fit. You could chat about your days during dinner and sometimes his thumb wipes some sauce from your lips and your heart flutters. He asks if you want to hang out with the boys at the bar and his hand is on the small of your back guiding you to the table between busybodies. You shiver from the cold wind at night on your way home from bowling with your friends and his jacket is neatly laid on your shoulders a moment later. Small details that probably mean nothing to him whilst it’s everything to you.

There are times when you could picture yourself next to him, holding his hand and kissing his lips. You try not to let your delusions surface often. It’s too draining mentally. Left with disappointment in the end when he goes on a date or brings someone home for the night. The illusion shatters.

The brightest light burns out the fastest as they say. One day you’re filled with hope other times reality comes to you like a trainwreck. Some things are not meant to be and it’s probably you and Jin. Blah. Blah. Blah. You could talk about this forever if you had the time.

You spend most days outlining your plot holed up in your room. Keyboard smashing as you fly over the estimated word count.

Who knew that unrequited love could give you so much inspiration?

Writing and editing until your eyes dry out and your nose bleeds are how masterpieces are created in your opinion.

Living between the pages of your book certainly feels better sometimes than real life. Caffeine and food are your new lover at least they can’t hurt your feelings. You can hear the front door open and close from a distance when the apartment is enveloped in complete silence. It’s midday. He’s usually nose-deep in his work by now. If not he helps old ladies to cross the street or save kittens that got stuck on high trees aka living the life of an angel. So what is he doing at home? You hear keys clinking and a heavy sigh followed by sluggish footsteps.

Your typing ceases as your fingers hover over your keyboard as you listen. Should you greet him? He could be having a hard day.

Seokjin’s a polite and friendly roommate as you got to know him. He treats you like a good little sister. You don’t like it but you don’t have the confidence to raise questions about it. He’s a homebody just like you but likes his hangouts every-now-and-then. He’s neat and domestic honestly, the best roommate you had so far. A popular restaurant owner downtown who is not only sought out because of his looks but also because of his excellent cuisine. His wide shoulders carry a lot of pressure to do well with his business.

He most likely comes home from visiting the bank. He decided recently that he wanted to make the place more modern and renovate the kitchen and interior. You heard that getting a loan seems to be a bit tricky. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of Jin’s broad shoulders in a fitting white t-shirt and some baggy pants. You like his day clothes but you like them especially when he goes casual showing true boyfriend material looks with soft hoodies and plain t-shirts. Even when he comes home smelling like food and sweat you find him attractive. His eye smile melts you into a puddle especially when he catches you making his favourite comfort food after a long day at work.

You ask him today if he needs it and he nods already feeling better after the mention of his favourite muffins. You shoo him out of the kitchen while you start preparing to make the butter and he goes to take a shower before he returns to your side. You don’t need to ask if he had a bad day.

”You always know what I need. It smells amazing Y/N. Can I get a taste?” You try to keep your composure when Seokjin throws his arms around your body engulfing you in a back hug that brings the scent of his body wash to waft into your nose. Your heart is beating loudly in your throat and you’re hoping that the sound doesn’t reach his ears with his chest tightly pressed to you and his chin lying on top of your head. You want to melt into him – melt into the lazy circles he leaves with his thumb on your hipbone absentmindedly but you don’t let yourself completely relax afraid if you show how much you like it you will be too obvious.

The tip of his nose kisses the side of your cheek as you slightly turn in his direction holding up your spoon for a taste just like he asked.

”Hmn. Tastes good.”

Your entire body freezes up when he moans into your ear (fucking moans) and your panties dampen by the sheer sinfulness of the sound. Fuck. He’s going to be the death of you.

”S-Set the table, will you?” You hope he doesn’t put two and two together by the tremor in your voice. You’re his baby sister’s best friend there’s no way he would look at you the same way as you are looking at him.

”Sure. Finish up buttercup.” He squeezes you for a moment longer before he lets you go and steps back. Laughing at his own joke. The cold air that rushes back now that his body heat is gone makes an involuntary shiver run down your spine. He doesn’t notice any of your odd reactions. Thankfully. Seokjin skips into the living room like normal carrying two plates with him and forks.

The muffins are almost done.

”My publisher is hellbent on making me write about love. I was thinking of showing how friendship is important in my next book. You know have a somewhat action-based fantasy story as the protagonists meet with strangers and become friends along the way while going through hardships together, something similar like that. I don’t want to write a cute love story when I haven’t got a real boyfriend in ages. I know it wouldn’t be genuine and I would hate to let my readers down.”

At first, you asked about how his day was going but somewhere along the way he asked about your visit to your publishing company today and you had to rent about it. Jin listens to you carefully even though he has his own problems to solve. You don’t try to dwell on it long since you want to comfort him instead.

You know how passionate he is about his job and how he loves cooking and now he’s placed in a tough situation. You don’t have the time to worry about your nonexistent love life.

”You could never let your readers down Y/N. They love your books.” You place your fork down and reach over to grasp his hand in yours impulsively but Jin doesn’t mind. You want to intertwine your fingers so badly with his but you hold back he’s not yours to hold. You hate to see him upset like this. The snack is long forgotten as you both stop eating.

”You can still do it.” You’re confused for only a second before Jin elaborates. One hand goes over his hair ruffling the locks and making a mess.

”You could always try and meet someone.” Okay. Ouch. It’s true but hearing it from him is even more painful than the normal jabs you get from your best friend regarding this matter.

”I don’t need a boyfriend to write about love.” Because I’m in love with you.

You don’t offer him much more after that and he lets it go after a while when he realises you won’t budge on the subject. This is not a topic that you want to discuss with him either.

You’re working on something but that’s not how you pay your bills. Simple romance doesn’t pay as much. It’s written porn you write to your secret fanbase that Jin doesn’t know about on a site. You have a secret job that only your best friend knows about. You write smut on the internet and you have plenty of followers who tip you generously for your thirst posts.

Your popularity is all thanks to the built-up sexual tension because you imagine Jin doing those things to you. It will never happen in real life so you write it down and give the guy a fake name. Simple as that. You started your blog to keep your fantasies in one place but people seemed to love your filthy ideas so you kept going under a fake name.

Once you both eat your fill of the sweets you carry the plates to the kitchen. Jin insists on washing the dishes since you baked so you just stand by the side. Jin hums a catchy tune whilst cleaning and rinsing the plates. You always liked listening to his voice. He could be a singer he said he might be in his next life and you both shared a laugh. It’s domestic talking and doing chores together around the house.

This is how everything has always been.

“Your back is arching one hand is placed on your left thigh firmly to keep you open as two thick fingers enter you. You moan and struggle as Jinie’s pillowy lips wrap around your clit his hum travels to your core as he tastes you.

You gush around his fingers that pump in and out of your puffy folds. You want to see him devour you so you keep yourself open with two of your fingers in a v shape. He licks you from top to bottom looking straight into your eyes. He removes his fingers in favour to circle his tongue around your hole and his nose gently rubs on your clit with each lick and swipe of his eager tongue.

”R-Right there. I’m cumming.” Your hands hold onto his hair pulling desperately at the strands when Jin reintroduces his two digits and his lips travel up to suck on your clit. If he keeps this up you’re going to cum on his face. His hips rut against the mattress and his moans add to the pleasure of his tongue mapping out your swollen and sensitive folds. You sound so hot. ”Jin. Jinie. Please don’t stop...” You pull him closer desperately clawing at his wide shoulders as you nearly suffocate him with your thighs. Close. So close. Need a moment and –“

”What are you doing?” You jump in your seat when you hear Seokjin call out to you. You look over your shoulder pausing your writing to take in his form leaning against your doorframe.

You shut your laptop in reflex when he steps closer to see you better, you don’t want him to see what you were up to. You’re self-conscious even if writing smut is not your literal job. You sit with your legs crossed wound up from your words and imagination. He had to show up right before you wrote the climax. You haven’t heard him knock either. Did you get so lost in your head that you did not hear him at all?

”Writing.” You answer ominously.

Jin hums and takes a seat at the edge of your bed close to your little station. He’s not suspecting you at all. You roll around with your chair and face your handsome roommate.

Usually, he doesn’t come and visit you at night. Jin likes to keep to himself when sad to not bring down anyone’s mood so you’re surprised he decided to seek you out. It manages to put you in a good mood. He trusts you enough to show you his vulnerable side.

He looks tired.

You yelp when he rolls you closer to him by grabbing the armrest of your chair his head lands on your meaty thighs so close to your core that it involuntarily throbs. It was just moments ago that you wrote about him feasting on your pussy and this position is not helping to calm down your racing heart.

Jin has no idea what he’s doing to you and you feel bad for ruining the moment with your dirty mind. He’s here to seek your comfort and you just think about yourself. You’re so selfish.

Your fingers card through his hair and he sighs in contentment. ”Can I sleep here tonight?” You almost didn’t catch the words that he murmured into your skin.

”You can.” Your voice is soft as if you’re afraid to disturb the moment. Jin holds you by the waist and buries his nose into your lower stomach. He’s been touch-starved and while he knows it’s not right to touch you like this he can’t help himself. He needs the comfort of your body after a long day. He longs to feel someone’s body heat next to him. You don’t push him away – you never do so he doesn’t stop even when he spoons you from behind lying on your bed listening to each other’s breathing.

You dream of his lips and wide shoulders.

It’s so hot you can feel sweat collecting at your spine and brows as something warm is clinging to you from behind. You can’t get away from the heat something is stopping you from wriggling out of its hold. Your dream-dazed mind needs a minute to realise what’s pressed against you and emits so much heat and when you do your entire body freezes mid struggle.

Right.

You let Jin into your bed last night. He’s like a furnace. You tilt your head backwards careful to not accidentally wake him up whilst you try to make a mental plan in your head on how to get out of this position. His hands are placed dangerously down on your body holding you by the hips and when he squeezes you suddenly you jump a little getting pressed on him more in the process.

Your t-shirt got rolled up during the night till your stomach was not covered by the fabric anymore. His hands are in direct contact with your skin and you can feel his warm touch cage you against him.

You’re outright panicking when you can feel his boner press into your buttcheeks. Sleepiness is long gone from your eyes.

This sounds like the beginning of one of your cheap smut stories. But you swear it’s not. You vaguely remember writing one about two people sharing one bed one of your favourite tropes to write about when they got stranded at a motel because of the weather. Your protagonist woke up just like you with a morning wood rutting against her whilst the boy was still living in a wet dream.

Jin isn’t moving though. He’s just pressed against you. His breath is not laboured at all as relaxed puffs of air hit your earlobe. He’s deeply asleep but his body is certainly awake and ready to nut. If you would be one of your characters then you might have the courage to press back and grind your ass into his cock. He feels big against your rearside even if he’s tucked away in his underwear.

You really want to move but you know you shouldn’t. If he accidentally wakes up you will be in big trouble.

Your attempts to escape are futile. Jin doesn’t let you go out of his hold and your struggle only makes him pull you closer and create some friction between your bodies. You let out a loud gasp when his cock accidentally rubs harder against your ass as you try to get away.

You settle down and wait. He’s probably waking up. His brows are furrowed and his mouth is jutted in a pout.

You let out a sigh of relief when he doesn’t. Looks like he got tired of you trying to get away and disturbing his sleep because he lets you go and turn to the other side of the bed. One of his hands is tucked under his head as he sleeps.

You shouldn’t feel as disappointed as you do when you get up and leave the room to get ready for the day.

You would have loved to feel him rub one out. You would have gladly let him use you but it’s for the best that nothing happened in the end. You leave the house early that morning. You needed some space to calm down and you had to go somewhere anyway. It’s ridiculous how worked up you got just because you felt Jin’s cock against your ass.

What’s even more concerning is that you have no difficulty meeting up with his sister and having some breakfast together.

If she knew what kind of thoughts you have about his older brother. She would certainly kill you but you try to keep these thoughts at the back of your mind for now as you focus on your important conversation. You shoot down another one of her blind date offers as usual at this point saying no is like a reflex to you.

”You like someone else, don’t you?” Your grip on your mug tightens and you look up at her like a deer caught in headlights after listening to her sudden question. At that moment you knew that you fucked up.

”I knew it! Who is it? Do I know him? Did you ask him out yet?” You avoid making eye contact with her as she rambles on and on about your mysterious love interest.

It’s your brother. Yes, you do know him. No, I don’t have to courage to ask him out and I don’t think I ever will.

You answer her in your head but decide against saying any of that out loud.

Instead, you say something even worse for her imagination to run wild: ”It’s complicated.”

”Is it a married man? I promise I will never judge you. You can tell me.” You gasp in horror when she starts speculating, giving you that look again that you haven’t seen since college when you had that crush on that jock from the swim team senior year. They were wet and hot in your defence every woman’s weakness. Everyone who tells otherwise is a liar.

Her hand finds yours on top of the table to console you but you pull away with a disapproving look.

”Oh my god. That’s not it!” You pick up some fries to shove into her mouth before she can speak more nonsense.

It’s annoying how she tries to nitpick everything you say just because you said it’s complicated it doesn’t mean it has to involve a married man or a sugar daddy! It could be worse than listening to her trying to figure out your mystery crush. At least she has no idea it’s his brother that you have secret feelings for. You shudder just by thinking of this morning with his dick wedged in between your buttcheeks.

It’s futile to think about the what-ifs. Nothing would have changed if you decided to stay or not a little longer. You just saved yourself from some awkward conversation where you would be friend-zoned or worse, sister zoned! You’re way past the point of feeling guilty about thinking about Jin whilst you’re with your best friend. You’re not concerned as you get lost in your head. You never really breached the topic with her but you know she wouldn’t be thrilled for you to have the hots for his brother. It’s stupid but her reaction when one of your friends brought up you dating him in the future is still a sore spot. Them. Together? Yikes. Childish, you know it but it still affects you more than you would like to admit. Not that Seokjin would ever return your feelings.

”Are you excited about our trip?” Glad for the change in the subject you let out a relieved chuckle. Genuine excitement showing on your face.

Of course, you are excited!

It’s been ages since you went to Jeju except for that one family vacation and this time it will be just you the girls and the boys – no parental supervision. You yourselves are grownups. Just friends on a summer trip. Everyone has been busy and working hard so some time to unwind will do some good for all of you. It’s also nostalgic as the first roots of your affection towards Jin bloomed on the Island as well. You’re excited to go back now that you’re all mature.

The problems you had back then seem to be minor things compared to what adult life rolls your way as a challenge. You share some excited chatter about the resort she got her hands on. You heard it’s quite spectacular and has a beautiful view of the ocean. You collect your trays when you’re done and head to the mall to buy some bikinis for the trip.

Time always flies by when you’re together and you step into your shared apartment with Jin in the late afternoon with a heart less heavy.

It’s still one of the favourite parts of your day. When you can smell the freshly made food and be greeted by Jin’s smile as he asks you to join him in the kitchen. You move in sync preparing the dishes seamlessly as you know what the other wants. You cooked together so many times but your heart still flutters when he prefers your help in the kitchen even at gatherings.

”You left early this morning.” The knife in your hand halts for a moment but you regain your composure rather quickly. You keep cutting the vegetables in relative silence as you try to come up with what to say and pour the cut pieces into a frying pan to stirfry, acting busy. You didn’t think he would comment about your sudden disappearance. Did he miss you? Was he disappointed when he didn’t find you in his arms anymore? Or. Is he testing the waters? He probably woke up with a boner and was wondering if he made you uncomfortable but doesn’t want to create an awkward situation by asking you outright. Right? That’s probably it-

”I was just getting ready for the trip tomorrow. Jiah and I went shopping. We didn’t have anything to wear to the beach.”

Seokjin acknowledges your words with a small hum as he’s focused on marinating the beef sprinkling it with various spices.

”Can’t wait to see you in it.” His smile is innocent and his intentions are probably as pure as snow so why are you blushing so hard? You and Jin saw each other in swimwear and went to the beach with mutual friends before but your approach the previous years was more cute than sexy. You don’t know what possessed you to go all out this year but Jiah whistled when you came out of the changing room. She said whoever your secret crush is he’ll probably go blind from your beauty so you’re counting on that.

***

”Hey! Nice of you two to finally join us.” You completely ignore Jimin’s jab at how late you are when you get to the airport. Jin rolling both of your suitcases. You don’t offer an answer; you’re all used to his teasing.

Your eyes are only halfway open when you lean on your best friend’s shoulder to support your weight. You’re not a morning person it took a lot of persuasion from Seokjin to get you out of bed.

Your earlier entrance made some of your friends suspiciously giggle and talk in hushed whispers. The fan club – as they like to call themselves. They have been shipping you with Jin since the first arrangements that you become roommates and while you show your disdain every time you secretly love the attention put on you two.

”Cute.” Hanma giggles when she saw you holding onto Jin’s shirt following him in.

He offered you the edge of his shirt to hold onto in hopes that you two won’t separate as you try to make your way to the guys inside the busy airport. He could see that you were still half asleep and he was afraid of losing sight of you in such a big place. He gave you occasional glances and slowed down his steps to match his pace with you.

He never fails to make your heart flutter with sweet gestures like this. He helps you with your luggage and carries your passports to show at the gates. Some might confuse him to be your boyfriend – Jin is naturally nice so always corrects the people politely but your heart sinks every time he smooths over the mistakes of other people.

You’re surprised that he choose the seat next to you and not one of the guys, beating your best friend to it. They played a childish game of rock paper scissors to decide who will sit next to you and in the end, Jin won.

You try to ignore the butterflies when he smiles so widely at you. You live together so you grew naturally closer – at first, you were surprised how people person he was. He was rooming with Yoongi for a long time but when he decided to take a further step in his relationship and move in together with his sweetheart, Jin had to look for another place and your roommate conveniently moved out not that long ago. You always wondered if it was fate. It seemed like a dream and most of the time it was.

You cook together and watch tv. A lot. He coaxes you out of your room to do things like watching his favourite dramas or just hang out and go bar-hopping with his friends. Simple things like that. Many pros but there are cons as well.

You think that you mastered your poker face when he occasionally brings girls home for the night. You never see them again but the fact that the walls are thin and you hear them moan his name makes the ugly head of jealousy roar to life.

You want to be the only girl that moans his name. Not only moan but – hold his hand, laugh at his dad jokes and make him feel good until his toes curl and he loses his mind. You want to be his girlfriend but it’s wishful thinking on your part.

He’s eight years older than you. He never dated younger girls and his last girlfriend was five years older than him. He likes mature older women – not girls like you in their early twenties.

”You’re always together Jin! Don’t think you can steal my best friend from me! She’s mine!” Jiah whines when she loses at the game and you have half the heart to make a peace offering when Jin pokes his tongue at his sister childishly.

Right. Mature.

”Enough. Both of you. I’m not anyone’s possession. Just sit next to each other. Final decision.” They both try to protest but you’re already out of your seat.

You find one empty so you make your way to the back and sit next to Namjoon. Finally some quiet and peace.

He gives you a sympathetic smile and pats the seat next to him for you to take and you do – gladly.

You enjoy his company and he’s been always easy to talk to. He let you cry on his shoulder when you broke up with your first boyfriend that no one knows about. It was messy. It was a secret relationship – not that you two dated for long.

Namjoon is the only one who knows about your feelings and to this day he kept your secret. You have a special place in your heart for Namjoon. You both confide in each other to tell things that you’re not comfortable telling to other people. You’re not the only one with a secret as he had the biggest crush on your best friend for years.

She’s oblivious to his attraction and it’s clear that Namjoon always has her best interest at heart. He doesn’t want to reveal himself in front of her and put her in a weird situation. The things he does for her are subtle – if you didn’t know of his feelings you would probably never pick up on the little things.

In a way, you’re both sitting in the same boat. There are nights when you two secretly hang out and talk about your crushes. It always feels good to ramble about them and get it all out so it’s a tradition by now.

”You can rest on my shoulder.” You hum in contentment his voice is nice and soothing it doesn’t take long for you to go back to sleep resting against Namjoon’s shoulders as he reads his book in silence.

Jin and Jiah bicker for a while – pointing fingers at each other about who was the cause of you to just leave them but quiet down when Namjoon scolds them and emphasises that you have already fallen back to sleep.

You and Namjoon made a promise not to try and get each other’s hopes up but that glance Seokjin shoots in your direction make him think. He’s been pretty much glued to your side and he knows for a fact, that he didn’t have a woman over for a while now. You always complain about them being loud but you didn’t for the last couple of weeks.

Namjoon looks at Seokjin’s approaching form suspiciously.

”Relax I won’t disturb her but she gets cranky when she’s not resting on her favourite pillow.” He lets him cradle your face between his palm softly and carefully place the pillow behind your head.

Jin gets a few locks of hair out of your face and places them behind your ears and a smile makes its way onto his features unknowingly.

”Tell me what you want.” You play with the hem of his shorts. Strong thighs quivering under your careful fingers. Your mouth is stretched into a vixen smile – moan softly when you picture a big fat cock to stretch it out instead.

”W- We shouldn't.” You lightly scoff. His mouth forms the words but his hips still jut when you ghost your touch over his prominent bulge. He wants you. You can feel it. Your gaze is feral as you look at Jin like a meal on a silver platter. He won’t stop you from touching him his mind keeps telling him to stop you but he won’t because deep down he doesn’t want to.

He wants you to whip out his dick and roll your tongue over his cockhead. Taste the precum of his desire. His eyes are blown out and his chest is moving up and down rapidly at the sight of you on your knees between his spread legs. Despite the position, he’s the one that’s wrapped around your pinky finger.

You know that look too well as you caress his clothed thighs running your fingers up and down in a soothing manner. He’s overthinking again.

”I can stop if it’s too much. I want you to feel good Seokjinnie. You don’t have to feel guilty.” Jin jumps when your head rests on his left thigh your breathing is shallow and calm – nothing like the hammering of his chest. His heart works overtime to pump his blood through his veins directing the flow to his cock rather than his head to think.

”N- No. Please don’t stop.” He catches your wrist when you give him some distance. Thinking that he’s pulling out of the situation. It prompted him to finally answer – and it’s truthful. He doesn’t want to stop in spite of everything in him screaming that he should.

His feelings are conflicted but his fingers weave themselves into your messy hair and gather it into a low ponytail. You feel like the forbidden fruit tempting him and leading him to his downfall. It’s only a thin wall separating your bodies from his sister sleeping next door. Unbestowned to the sinful actions of the two most important people in her life. What kind of brother he is to want his sister’s best friend’s mouth on his cock?

His eyes focus on the object of his desire, your lips. Pink and swollen from biting. Your tongue pokes out to slick your lips to glisten and make them more inviting.

”Tell me that you want it. If you don’t you have to tell me now.” Of course, the last thing you want is to stop but this is not just about you. It’s better to stop now than for him later to realise it was a mistake on his part. You wouldn’t be able to handle that if he did.

”I shouldn’t- I really shouldn’t want your mouth wrapped around my cock but Y-Y/N I w-want it so bad.” You hum grazing his inner thighs with your nails.

”You can have it. My mouth is yours to take.” Seokjin blushes but nods. His fingers shake as he undoes his pants and gets his underwear down his legs showing you his hard cock. It’s dripping the pink tip is swollen as beads of precum bubble out from the small slit. You put your mouth around the round head and taste him for the first time –

”Y/N. What is this?” His tone makes you wince. He never talked to you like this before – with anger laced with his tone. His ears are red and his eyes are distant when you keep looking at the floor avidly avoiding his harsh stare that pokes a hole into your head – hoping to gain some confidence to reply. This is your worst nightmare.

Him finding out – nonetheless this way. His reaction twists the knife in your heart even more.

You look over the words on your open computer. Your heart seizes in panic as you look between the hard lines of his forehead and your filthy words – practically telling him everything that you tried so hard to keep as a secret for years.

”I’m s-sorry.” Don’t know what else to say. Seokjin nearly growls and runs his hands through his hair as if it would decrease the humiliation of his finding. His thoughts are all over the place. The considerate boy is long gone when his harsh words pierce through your bleeding heart.

”What are you sorry for huh? Getting caught or writing porn with my name?” You flinch when he drops the laptop on the bed with a loud thud. He was never violent. The thought of you thinking about him that way disgusts him this much?

You’re lost for words as Jin walks up and down in your room trying to calm down. The tears you tried to keep at bay fall freely when his words hit you.

His frantic movements stop when he hears a pained sniff. His glare softens when he sees you cry and he bawls his hands in a fist to keep himself rooted to his spot. His first instinct is to comfort you but he’s still distraught by everything he read.

”Delete it.” This is the only thing he says before he slams the door behind him.

Your soft cries fill the room. He hates you. You should have been more careful. Shouldn’t let him be in your room when you weren’t around. It’s too late for that now. He hates you – he’s probably disgusted by you.

After he stormed out of your room that night you barely have seen him. It certainly put a damper on your vacation plans but you can’t blame him for reacting that way. It makes you sad that he opted for avoiding you all together rather than talking to you about it.

You tried to apologise but he didn’t take too kindly at you for visiting his room so you gave him the time alone that he needed. Namjoon is the only one who you told what happened and he offered to knock some sense into the boy but you pulled him back by his hands to leave it.

Namjoon is a good friend to the both of you and he could understand his reaction but the way he talked to you was not justified.

He kept by your side during the whole trip and you were glad to have some distraction from everything that happened. You were existing in the same room during the activities but he never even glanced your way or addressed you.

It felt like you were invisible that the friendship you built just crumbled like that.

You dreaded the day that you had to go back to your apartment. You tried to hide your disappointment when he asked Jimin to let him crash at his place for a while. You know he will move out sooner or later. It felt like your friendship was unsalvageable at this point.

You even told Jiah that you like his brother. She kept asking about what happened between the two of you. The tension could be cut with a knife and everyone noticed how the two of you drifted apart when before you were almost inseparable. She was shocked and you expected her to yell at you too but to your surprise, she took the news quite alright.

You had a heartfelt conversation while you both cried your eyes out. It felt good to tell her everything despite the situation. Whenever you thought about Jin your heart squeezed painfully. You haven’t seen him for at least a month now. Legally you still shared the apartment but you know he’s been looking for another place to stay. The last time he looked at you was when you were in your room after he discovered your erotic story about him. Jiah was your rock – and Namjoon too.

You could tell that they grew closer because of you, they talked more and hung out without you. You were hopeful that at least they got together in the end. They took really good care of you and you were really grateful for them to help you feel better.

You announced your indefinite hiatus on your blog and while some were noisy the majority of them wished you good luck with whatever you were struggling with. You were thinking of deleting the whole thing.

You buried yourself under work and continued on your real projects.

You were in the kitchen having some late-night snack. What you didn’t expect is for Jin to show up one day at your door he kept fidgeting with his key as he tried to coordinate his movements and slide the key into the hole.

He was flat-out drunk. His eyes are glazed over in a drunkness hue and he is swooning like he could trip over his feet at any given moment. You haven’t seen him act like this ever – he’s completely shit-faced. You want to give him space knowing that the last thing he wants is to see your face so you abandon your snack on the counter and try to leave but he doesn’t let you get too far.

Your eyes grow wide when he pushes you against your door before you could slip away into the comfort of your room. His breath smelled like he consumed a lot of whiskey on his night out and you don’t think your assumption is too far-fetched from the truth.

It breaks your heart that he has to be this drunk to even face you.

”You’re drunk. You should lay down.” You place both hands on his stomach to keep some distance as he sways.

It wasn’t the most coherent but you could get the gist of his words that would awfully sound like: ”I bw-read your blog. All offfff it.”

You look away in shame – ready to hear him yell again but he doesn’t. He forces you to face him with a firm grip on your chin.

”It bwans’t jsut sex. You swaid you likeed me.”

You try to push him away and get some space between you but he doesn’t relent. Who would have thought that he’s so strong while drunk?

”This is something we should discuss while you’re sober. We will talk in the morning. As, if you’ll be still here.” It was pointless to mask your hurt and he could see that. You looked hurt and thin like you were not eating properly.

The empty fridge seems to be a big hint of that. His head pounds from the headache but he could remember everything from yesterday.

You took care of him. Helped him lay down on his bed and even got him painkillers with a glass of water to sit on his bedside table for when he woke up.

He didn’t think about you at all or your feelings until Namjoon beat some sense into him. It was too much and too sudden. He was fighting these feelings and discovering your dirty little secret just made it all blow up in his face.

He was too deep to think about how his words affected you. He knows it won’t be enough to earn your forgiveness but it should be a good start. He makes some breakfast and waits for you patiently to appear.

You come out, blinking away the sleepiness when the view makes you stop in your tracks. You rub your eyes again in case you’re still somehow dreaming.

Seokjin. Standing in the kitchen, cooking. It’s something you haven’t witnessed for the last few weeks – it feels foreign to see him flip a honey brown pancake on their other side. To be truthful after he left you haven’t felt like cooking (it reminded you too much of him – you used to do all the cooking together and it felt wrong to do it all alone) mostly living off of fast food or eat at your friend’s place if they offered.

”You’re here.” It comes out as if you’re in disbelief and – you are. Seokjin was drunk yesterday. You thought it was a mistake that he came home and would surely leave in the morning before you woke up.

You didn’t think he would be here.

”Yes. Are- are you hungry?” He asks carefully as if you’re a wounded animal that could flee at any given moment. He could barely look you in the eye and it hurts. It’s never been so awkward before and you hate that you made it this way. The tension surrounding your body has a strong grip on your throat. It’s your fault that things went South in your friendship. You don’t even know it could be fixed anymore.

”S- Sure.” You take tentative steps into the kitchen and sit down opposite him. He places two servings down and you eat silently with a gaping hole in between. Usually, you would sit close to each other but not this time, there’s no easy banter or laughing either. It’s all so still.

”I- uh so, uh. Fuck, it’s hard. I guess what I want to say is that. I’m sorry.” Jin places his hand on top of yours – you two always used touch as a comforting gesture – but you pull your hand away without thinking. You think you saw hurt flash in his eyes but he looked undeterred in making up with you.

”It’s ok. I should be the one who says sorry. It was improper of me and it will never happen again.” You look away, your moves are mechanical as you slice into your pancakes. You’re not hungry and the food tastes like paper in your mouth. You miss the dejected look on his face while you focus on your plate.

He should have known it won’t be that easy to get things back to where it was.

He hates that you look so defensive and uncomfortable being in the same room. He deserves this reaction. Namjoon’s words ring in his ears like a mantra.

The way he acted and yelled at you was so unlike him. He said things that night that he didn’t mean and regretted. Namjoon told him how it wore you down while he was confused with his feelings – he hurt you badly. You can’t even look at him now and he hates that he did this to you. He misses your smile.

”No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry for yelling I didn’t mean the things I said I regretted saying them the minute I did. I read your blog and- y-you said that you like me. Is it, true?” If you didn’t know better you might think he looks hopeful. But what he said stuck in your head on repeat. [What are you sorry for huh? Getting caught or writing porn with my name?]

”I did.” You settle for that answer for now. Seeing him again and how painful it is to even be in the same house opened your eyes to how wrong it was for you to fantasise about him. You will make yourself stop liking him. This is the only way you can still salvage your friendship. He’s clearly not interested based on his reaction and you couldn’t blame him.

”The past tense means? You- don’t like me anymore? I-Is it because of what I said?” Jin seems nervous and somewhat, disappointed in your answer but you don’t let your mind linger on that for long. This is for the best.

”I want us to forget about this. This is how we could be friends again.”

You get up and leave but there was unmistakable sadness carried in your eyes. Your pancake is nearly untouched you only took two bites and Jin slumps in his chair sighing. He wanted this conversation to play out differently.

It took too long for him to figure out his own feelings. It looks like he’s always a beat late when it comes to you.

Jin cringes when he thinks about your conversation that happened half a day ago.

”That sucks man but at least now you’re on speaking terms again.” Seokjin sighs. He half-heartedly agrees because he did move back into your shared apartment but it’s far from how it used to be. You’re distant. No more cooking together you don’t even watch shows together on the couch after your late-night writing sessions.

If he’s not going out of his way to see you he bet you wouldn’t even leave your room. You’re only a door away but it feels like there are oceans between you now.

You said you’re working on your book and he knows it’s the truth because your blog is deleted by the time he tries to check it out again.

You meant it when you said you want to forget about the last couple of weeks and while you pretend it never happened – it’s clear that it still bothers you. You’re avoiding him. Even in friend outings, you’re barely speaking to him and choose the seat farthest away from him. Everyone noticed the shift in your dynamics but no one dares to comment on it. Namjoon advised him to give you time, you’re probably just feeling embarrassed and he couldn’t blame you when he reacted that way. The things he said – he wishes he could just turn back time and take a deep breath instead.

He felt betrayed when he first saw your writing and he felt embarrassed that people all over the world read about sexual things with his name in it he replayed what happened at the hotel numerous times and he regrets everything.

Ever since he played with the thought of you and him in the same sentence it became clearer that he could actually picture it happening. Too bad he’s weeks late and now it seems like you will never open up to him again.

”Barely. She’s still avoiding me Joon.” Namjoon finds his older friend’s pout comical.

”Clearly since you’re out drinking again. You know that if you get drunk it doesn’t mean the situation will solve itself.” Of course, he knows it. Jin annoyingly sighs again and Namjoon has to bite his lip to not tell him to stop whining and instead do something about it.

”I’m just so lost about what to do.” Jin swirls his drink looking intently at the bottom of his whiskey in case the key to his problems will be somehow buried under the fifth cup of alcohol.

”Well – did you try to apologise?” Jin snorts. Namjoon could barely hear his answer murmured under his nose. ”Of course, I apologised that was the first thing that I did.”

”Did you explain to her why you reacted that way? That you given it a thought and you would like to try something if she’s still interested? Did you tell her that?”

It’s the following silence that has Namjoon shake his head in disbelief. For the first time since he arrived, Jin looks up from his drink and looks kinda panicked.

”S- She didn’t let me explain.” Even he knows it’s a poor excuse. The truth is he chickened out. You used the past tense as ‘liked you’ and he felt too afraid to say anything. He was confused for the longest time if what he started feeling after you ignored him was genuine or if he was just missing the normality you two always had. He’s afraid that things will change drastically and he would hate to lose you.

He’s still not a hundred percent sure but he probably never will be all he could do is try and see what happens. That’s life. There’s no guide on how to live your life just like there’s no guide to tell him if things would work out between you two. Things are already not normal between you. Even if he hates to admit it he wouldn’t be able to go back to just being your friend anymore after knowing the truth about your feelings. He just needs to take a leap of fate and hope for the best. It’s also easier said than done.

”You need to try until she listens. She deserves an explanation Jin. As I see it she probably avoids you so you couldn’t reject her again. She doesn’t know that you’re not trying to do that she only goes with the assumptions your little outburst created in her head. The only way you can fix your relationship with her is, to be honest. Tell her how you feel. She’s not a mind reader you have to spell it out for her to understand.”

Jin knows Namjoon is right. The question is what he’s going to do about it.

Jin also knows this is not the best time to initiate this conversation but he decides to knock on your door after standing in front of it finally done contemplating.

Your eyes are tired but widen when you see him and while your lights are off your laptop gives off a light behind you that indicates you are still awake. It's 3 in the morning.

Jin smells like alcohol again, but he doesn't seem as hammered as when he first came home. He almost looks painfully sober.

"Did you just get home?" Unsure what to say you ask carefully. Your fingers grip the door until your knuckles are turning white. You're wearing black shorts with a tank top and you're clearly not wearing a bra as Jin can see the outline of your breasts.

Realising his mistake, he focuses back on your face thanks to the dim lighting of the place you didn't notice how he was ogling at your chest a moment ago.

Even after talking big to Namjoon not an hour ago in the bar about how he's going to confess to you being in front of you makes the words escape him and lose all confidence he had left. You look so pretty in his eyes dressed in casual clothes.

The worst that could happen is hearing your rejection. Jin wouldn't blame you after all he said and done. However, things can't go on as they are now. The distance is killing him and he hates how you avoid his looks or touches when it was welcomed before.

"I want to talk to you about something. Can I come in?" He gets it out after some silence and you seemingly contemplate accepting it. It's late and he is drunk. As if he could read your mind he's quick to assure you he didn't have that much tonight. He wasn't even out for that long.

"Alright, come in." You sigh tiredly and you step away to let him in. You don't want to have this conversation right now but you know that Jin is stubborn and it's best to hear it now than prolong this painful thing you have going on. You hate this, it's awkward you don't know how to react to his words or how to move according to his touches. You're ridden with guilt thinking that you created this situation but also angry with Jin. After avoiding you for a month he's back and acting like nothing happened between you.

You motion for your bed for him to sit and you take a seat on your rolling chair. You keep sitting opposite him when before you would always sit beside him but he doesn't say anything as he's the only one to blame for this. Of course, you're heartbroken and angry. Jin is very bad when he has to confront someone or a situation but he needs to do that or else he might really lose you forever, if you haven't already given up on him but he still has hope that you will say yes.

"I know I said this before but I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings. I don't even know what I was thinking but what I'm sure about is that after not seeing you I started to think about you more deeply. I never thought about you that way I admit it but after constantly thinking about you I think I actually like you." His words are not the best to express his thoughts but he hopes you can interpret them in a good way. Your expression is not that bright so he tries to help the situation while mumbling more words.

Trying to make things right desperately.

"If you're only saying that to..." You don't have to try and finish your sentence before he's quick to correct it.

"No! Um, no. That's not it, I'm not just saying it because I want to smooth things over. I miss being with you. I miss you so much and I hate that you avoid me now even though I know I deserve it. I'm sorry Y/N, I'm really selfish. I want to have your love again even after I said that. I know I am late but I swear if you give me a chance I'll try my hardest to make you fall in love with me again." You're too stunned to react when he suddenly gets on his knees to beg for forgiveness as his last attempt to convince you. Jin clasps your hands and squeezes them.

"J-Jin." He doesn't let you pull away as he holds your hand against his cheek. "You can stand up." You put your other hand on his shoulder feeling weird about seeing him on his knees. You didn't have time to fully grasp what was happening.

If he did this two months ago you would be over the moon. Is he saying what you think he is saying?

"I won't until you forgive me. Y/N please." You feel pressured but on the other hand, you still have those butterflies in your stomach. You don't think he will let up if you ask him for more time to consider so you silently consider your options now.

He did hurt your feelings but you know Jin would never lie to you. You believe that what he said now is the truth. If he truly considered your feelings and feels like giving it a try with you. You could take one and give your heart a chance.

This time you won't need to hide it anymore. Your friendship cannot go on as it is - and even if in the end it doesn't work out you could at least say you tried your best.

"Alright. I will forgive you Jin." You cup his face with both hands. Jin looks up at you with a silly smile at seeing your expression soften and he pulls you down for a puppy kiss.

It's nothing but lip on the lip but it's finally happening. Jin is kissing you.

You smile into it before it can deepen but neither of you minds it. "Are you going to get up now?"

You help him up after he nods. He lets out a little laughter feeling good after you accept his confession. Both of you just stare at each other after that in the middle of the room unable to move.

"Good night Jin." Unsure what to do you think it's best to leave things at that. It's almost 4 am. Seokjin can sense your hesitance even though you cleared your feelings it's clear that you don't know what you're allowed and not allowed to do.

"Can I stay? I missed you a lot." Jin pulls you close by holding onto your waist. He can feel it on his skin how your heartbeat accelerates as he closes the gap. He kisses your jaw and your fingers tighten around the material of his shirt.

"S-sure." Unable to resist his charms you agree to sleep together. While Jin goes to change his clothes and shower you tidy up your room a bit. You're already under the covers when Jin comes back. The last thing you feel is how he kisses your cheeks and whispers a good night before you close your tired eyes enveloped in his warm arms.

The next time your friends gathered you showed up with Jin hand in hand. After the initial shock wore off everyone congratulated you and Jin on your newfound love. Some things changed but some aren’t. He’s still as sweet to you as ever, you cook together watch movies and talk late into the night but your relationship now has a bonus that you were unable to experience in your friendship. The kisses.

When you’re talking with your friends he sometimes kisses the top of your head pulls you close to his side or holds your hand under the table. Just some subtle romantic actions but they make your heart flutter. There are times when Jin comes home from work and you greet him with a sweet peck. Sometimes it grows into a makeout session. With you on his lap and your fingers in his hair feverishly exchanging kisses on the couch. Or when you’re getting ready to bed he pulls you close under the covers and kisses you until you’re breathless.

Today is one of those days when you two get carried away with the kisses. Jin had a stressful day at work. Some people complained that the food was bad and he had to smooth things over when a waiter got into an argument with a customer. The first thing he did when he got home was hug you close and breathe in your calming scent. You could tell that something was bothering Jin but you hugged him back and offered him your comfort. You didn’t think things would get this heated.

Jin suddenly kissed you like you were the air that he desperately needed to survive he hungrily started to devour your lips until they got swollen and pink. Before anything could escalate you always find a way to stop. If Jin initiates the make-outs then you always put an end to it before the clothes could get unbuttoned.

Jin read the blog and read all about your fantasies so he knows you’re not particularly shy or innocent. At first, he just thought you were not ready and he wanted to wait for you so he never mentioned anything but now he thinks differently. He heard you one morning when he had to come back for his keys when you thought he left for work you pleasured yourself in your shared bed he could hear you moan his name. You always stop before anything could get too heated and he thinks it’s because you’re afraid to initiate anything sexual not because you don’t want to but because you’re afraid to appear too needy.

Today he’s not letting you get away.

He stops you from getting up from his lap. Jin knows that you can feel his bulge underneath you. Continues his kisses down your throat to your collarbones that poke out from under your t-shirt. Your fingers grip his wide shoulders as you try to remain calm, small sighs escape you as he keeps peppering your skin with his wet kisses. You want to roll your hips to get some relief but you’re afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself anymore if you did. This is exactly what Jin wants though. He pulls you impossibly close bucking his hips up to you with a firm hold on you he rubs his clothed cock between your legs until you start to soak his lap. Pushing his tongue into your mouth he swallows your needy sounds but he’s no better at keeping his voice down. The small whimpers that escape only fuel your arousal. You swear he knows what he’s doing to you. You try to get away before it gets too much but Jin desperately clings to you as if he reads your mind he opens his mouth to protest.

“Don’t stop please.” Jin continues to guide your hips pushing you against his fully hard cock he wants to take it out already but he holds himself back. His doe eyes meet your half-lidded ones as he chases the friction he craves.

You bite back a moan when you take in the sight under you. He’s so perfect. He holds onto you tightly like he’s afraid you will disappear. It feels like your concerns were unfounded after seeing the unlimited desire in his passionate eyes. You were afraid to have sex with Jin after what happened before. You thought he thought you were dirty after writing sex scenes with his name. It seems like you were wrong. He doesn’t think you’re dirty or undesirable it’s clearly written on his face what he wants.

You relax into his embrace and kiss him lovingly. You want to give him everything he wants. You put your hand above his heart you can feel how his heart beats fast under your palm getting under his spell you continue your journey down his stomach until you catch the side of his waistband and play with it. You explore further your kisses reach his neck your teeth and tongue create dark marks on his skin as your fingers palm him over his clothes. Jin’s hand tighten around your waist he lets out his sounds freely appreciating the care and attention you willingly give to him. Molding against your body he becomes putty in your hands.

“You’re so pretty Jinie.” Shyness blooms on his face at your compliment he buries his face into your shoulders moaning when you increase your hand movements. He’s getting so worked up by your little touches. Your tongue darts out to lick a long stripe up his neck lastly pulling his ear between your teeth. “My pretty baby is getting close? It feels like you’re about to burst. You won’t let anyone else touch you like this right? Only I want to see you like this.” You grab the side of his face with one hand forcing him to open his eyes and look at you.

Your fierce gaze makes Jin gulp down the accumulated saliva in his mouth. He opened it to answer but he could only let out his moans. It’s hard to form a coherent sentence when your hand rubs him so well. You won’t let him get away with it as you push your thumb into his mouth and press on his tongue. Jin can only whine as your finger gets coated in his saliva his eyes stay unfocused as you rub harder. He feels this incredible tightness in his lower stomach signalling his approaching end.

“Tell me that you’re mine and I will let you cum. Be a pretty boy and say it.” Your fingers leave his mouth so he can tell you. He tells you with tears glistening in his eyes the pleasure is too great to handle as he comes in his pants.

“Yours, only yours.” He pants whines and whimpers his whole body shakes as you guide him through his orgasm.

“My Jinie.” You kiss him swallowing his noises. His heart skips a beat your possessive side only adds to your appeal. He never heard you talk like that you say the most sinful things and he loves every second of it.

He doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed about cumming in his pants as you keep devouring his lips your desire growing bigger as you get frustrated as you’re soaking wet and didn’t do anything to relieve yourself.

You only pull away to get rid of your clothes. Seeing your naked body Jin feels the blood leave his head and travel down to his cock. Getting harder again. Jin parts your folds with two fingers his lips are on your neck tasting your skin as he works your pussy. You’re so wet his fingers glide on your sensitive skin easily. One finger sinks into you while his thumb keeps rubbing your clit eliciting sweet moans from you.

You clamp down on the finger inside getting close to your release. Your face is tucked into his shoulders. Jin watches as you ride his fingers slipping a second one inside at the same time you pull him out of his pants and wrap your hand around his shaft.

You kiss and moan into each other’s mouths building a steady rhythm together. You stop his fingers before you could cum around them.

“Want you in me.” Jin nods eagerly pulling your hips up until your opening is aligned with his tip. You sink down slowly feeling each vein and twitch of his cock as it gets buried inside your wet heat.

You ride it fast and deep chasing your end that got denied before you didn’t need much to reach it. It took some swirls of his finger on your sensitive clit to pulse around his cock and milk him with your release. The wetness provided an easy glide Jin could guide you up and down his cock easily until he cums deep inside you a few minutes later.

“You feel so good.” You smile into the kiss. This was way better than your imagination. Kim Seokjin. Jin or Jinie shortened for friends and family. Your bestest friend’s older brother and your current roommate of nine months, nine hours and – a brief look at your wristwatch – twenty minutes and now your new lover.

[rpwprpwprpwprw]

kim seokjin serving edward cullen vibes in that twilight scene…. grrrr he’s so cool when he looks like a vampire 😵‍💫

cr: kooxfia x

[kpopfanfictrash]

Clichés and Canapés (Teaser)

Genre: best friends to lovers; fake dating; billionaire au

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut

Summary: After twenty years of friendship, you’d think you were used to Seokjin’s proposals by now. In the past he’s forced you to participate in skydiving, skinny dipping, and even staging a rescue from the local shelter. Seokjin has always had big ideas but this time, even he may have gone too far. Granted, break-ups are stressful, and Seokjin’s latest one up was bad. Really bad. As in, they-ended-things-in-December-and-now-she’s-dating-his-brother bad.

It almost makes sense then, when Seokjin asks you to come home with him for his parents' party. Almost makes sense when he says his family assumed you were dating, and he didn't correct them. What doesn’t make sense is the longer you fake things, the more you find yourself wondering if this was real all along.

[ Part of the In Bloom Collaboration ]

Estimated WC: 37K

Teaser WC: 2K

Posting Date: April 20th, 2025

Content Creator: thank you @kithtaehyung for the BEST BANNER!

[ Author's Note: this scene is not the first scene in the story; for sake of brevity, I thought this would be best for a teaser. I hope you enjoy, and am so excited to post again! ]

Your heart pounds in the silence, unnaturally loud. Placing your phone on the table, you stare at the wallpaper – a photo of the city skyline you took last fall. Before that it was a photo of you and Seokjin. Your screensaver has always been you and Seokjin, something you never questioned until last year. Last summer, to be precise.

“Get ahold of yourself,” you mutter.

Taking a deep breath, your fingers hover over his name. You press call before you can second-guess yourself, Seokjin’s name filling the screen. He answers almost immediately.

“Hello?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Seokjin sounds out of breath, deeper than you remember. How unfair would it be for him to experience a second puberty burst. The first was torture enough for you as a teenager. Overnight, Seokjin transformed from your nerdy best friend to a soft-spoken, hilarious man the entire school wanted.

“… Y/N?”

Opening your eyes, you scoop up your phone and take it off speaker. “Oh, hey – yeah, it’s me.”

He chuckles. “I figured when I saw your name calling.”

“You never know.” Aimless, you pick at the lint of your apron. “Maybe I was in a tragic accident, and someone found my phone at the scene of the crime.”

“Does that mean I’m your emergency contact, Y/N? I’m touched.”

Your cheeks heat since yes, you’re not sure you ever changed that. What you say though, is, “Don’t get cocky. I have all my phone contacts listed as emergency contacts. I like to hedge my bets.”

He laughs, louder this time. “Hey, no judgement here. Pretty sure you’re still mine.”

Your fingers still on your apron. You shouldn’t be his contact – not after everything. Harshly, you stamp out the hope rising within you. Seokjin’s lack of foresight and planning shouldn’t be taken as anything but.

“Right.” You pause. “Sorry – is this a bad time? I should have texted back, but I’m at work, and thought it’d be easier to call…”

“You’re at work? Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

“I’m on a break, don’t worry about it.”

A long pause. At last, Seokjin sighs and the knot in your chest tightens. You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve seen him upset. Once when your parents were getting divorced and you ignored his texts for a week. Another, when he and his high school girlfriend broke up their first semester of college. Another when his mom was diagnosed with breast cancer (currently in remission). And then once more, when your ex cheated on you with your supposed best friend. Seokjin drove across state lines all night to be on your campus by morning.

This might be the fifth time.

“Yeah.” Seokjin exhales. “You thought this conversation would be better in person, and as always, you were right, Y/N.”

The way he says your name sparks wistful familiarity. It also reminds you of a darkened hallway, whiskey on Seokjin’s breath and – you stop the memory from continuing.

“What happened?” you press. “I just… damn, Seokjin. The last time I saw you and Emilia, the two of you seemed so, um… so…”

“Coupled?”

“I was going to say nauseating, but yeah.”

Seokjin barks out a laugh. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down, Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you say, but your lips twitch. “Although… I don’t mean to be rude, but… you don’t sound down? You sound… surprisingly chipper for a man who was cuckolded.”

The truth of this statement resonates within you. Seokjin sounded tired when he answered, but everything since then has felt almost normal. Almost – because the elephant in the room has not gotten smaller.

The last time you spoke face-to-face was December.

“Whoa, whoa – hang on,” he sputters. “Who said anything about cuckolding?”

“Were you not? Le cuckold, as the French say?”

“Wait.” Seokjin sounds amused. “To be clear, which party is the cuckold? The guy who cheats or the guy who gets cheated on? Also – why is there no name for the woman in this scenario?”

“Oh, there are plenty of names for the woman. They’re just not as fun, and heavily drenched in misogyny.”

“Right, right. The patriarchy, etc. – but seriously, Emilia didn’t cheat on me. Or she says she didn’t, and I’m inclined to agree.” He pauses. “I think.”

“You think?”

“I do believe her. But… well, even if she didn’t technically cheat… even if we broke up in December, then they waited a respectable period of time and then they started dating – it still feels weird. Like, was she into him the entire time we dated? Was my brother into her?”

“No good answers come from that line of questioning,” you say grimly.

“I know.” Seokjin groans, and you imagine him dragging a hand down his face. “You’re right, but I can’t stop picturing it. And they didn’t.”

“They didn’t what?”

“Wait a respectable amount of time,” he mutters. “Emilia and I broke up in December, and they told me at the end of March they were dating. Meaning they started dating before and only deemed it serious enough to tell me in March.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Hence the thinking.”

“About the timeframe, or the general weirdness?” you prompt.

In the back of your mind, you can't help wondering what made Seokjin reach out. According to what he just said, Seokjin has known about Jaesuk and Emilia since March. Granted, everything about this is strange and it's valid to vent, but you haven't spoken to Seokjin in months. And even before the break-up, it's been months since you spoke about anything real.

“Both,” Seokjin says in answer to your question.

“Not… anything else?”

“What else would I be thinking about, Y/N?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you huff, twisting the thread of your apron. “Are you still in love with Emilia? It’s hard to be around an ex normally, but this…” Trailing off, you shake your head.

“What? No. I mean, yeah – it’s not fun to be around them. But no,” Seokjin says, decisive. “I’m not in love with her.”

Your lips tighten, unsure what to believe. Still, you decide not to push him. Years of experience have taught you if Seokjin isn’t ready to talk about something, you won’t get a peep out of him. If it were you, though, five months isn’t enough to fall out of love.

“Okay,” is all you say. Glancing at the staff door, you watch Jimin hand the customer their drink. Your break will be over soon, one way or another.

“I’m�� actually glad you called me, Y/N.”

The hesitancy in his voice draws you back. “You are?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin clears his throat, a nervous tic. “Jaesuk called me yesterday. You know how my parents’ anniversary is in May?”

“Of course.”

Obviously, you know. Seokjin’s parents are strange for many reasons, not least of which is their genuine love for one another. They are also – you can say this after many years working in consulting – the most normal rich people you’ve ever encountered. Most of their wealth is donated each year, with a small stipend (still an insane amount) granted to each family member.

The weekend of their anniversary is the exception to this rule. Seokjin’s parents go all out, spending an entire week at their lake house, hosting lavish parties cumulating in the main event on the weekend. Growing up, you attended as Seokjin’s plus one. This all changed when Seokjin got his first girlfriend, although you still attended for a few years as the date of his sister, Seohyun.

“Yeah.” Seokjin again clears his throat. “So, uh, my brother called and… at first, he and Emilia weren’t going to come. They decided to skip this year because of the obvious.”

“The cuckoldom, yes.”

“I said the obvious,” Seokjin says drily. “But anyways. Well.” He exhales, and you remember again that between the two of you, Seokjin is more mild-mannered. “Jaesuk called and wanted to know if it would be okay with me if they came together. Emilia’s parents were invited, and they thought it might be weird for them to attend without her…”

Your jaw has dropped again. “How would that be weirder than Emilia attending with your brother?”

“I don’t know,” he groans, and from the way his voice muffles, you imagine him laying his head on his desk. Seokjin usually grades papers in the afternoon.

His apartment is gigantic, a three-story brownstone located in Hyde Park with a view of Lake Michigan. His study (yes, he has a study) always reminded you of the library in Beauty and the Beast. Perhaps a bit smaller, with less fiction on the walls.

Dimly, it registers that Seokjin’s parents invited the Astors. Granted, Emilia’s parents run in the same circle, but the invitation feels odd. Odd – and cruel, to invite Seokjin’s ex-slash-Jaesuk’s-current girlfriend.

What a mess.

Numbly, you shake your head. “They want you to spend an entire week together? Alone? In the middle of the wilderness?”

“Michigan isn’t exactly Siberia, Y/N.”

“But… you, your brother, and the woman you’ve both slept with – in one house?”

“I probably wouldn’t put it like that, but sure.”

“You… said no, right?”

A long, awkward pause follows.

Your voice rises. “Right?” you demand, gripping the phone tighter.

“No.” Seokjin’s voice muffles again. “I told them I wasn’t sure, but I’d let them know.”

“Seokjin! You absolutely cannot spend an entire week with them alone.”

“Aha!”

“What?” you ask, blinking at his note of triumph.

“You’re absolutely right. I can’t spend the week with them… alone.”

Your brows furrow. “So… you agree with me?”

“No, Y/N,” Seokjin repeats. “I can’t spend the week with them alone. But… with someone else…”

A beat passes.

“Are you dating someone new?” you ask, bewildered. “Is that it? You’re going to bring some poor, unsuspecting person to your Shakespearean family drama?”

“Not a poor, unsuspecting person, no…”

Suspicion slowly dawns. “Seokjin…”

“Yes?”

“You can’t be serious.”

His throat clears. “I was thinking… maybe... you could join.”

The silence stretches for so long, Seokjin seems to grow concerned. “Y/N?” His voice dims, like he's checking the call hadn’t dropped. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” you croak. “Physically, here. Mentally, I think something has cracked, because I just heard you ask me something insane.”

“See!” Seokjin exclaims. “This is why I need you there. You’re so good at making things less awkward. And my family loves you – their attention would all be on you, and not on how weird and insane my life is.”

Groaning out loud, you sink further into the chair. This is a bad idea. Truly abysmal, but…

You already know you’ll say yes. Saying no to Seokjin has never really been an option.

Back in college, you joined his family trips all the time. In those days, your dad wasn’t taking care of himself, your mom had run off with her new boyfriend, and you had nowhere to go during summer holidays. Frequently, the Kim’s referred to you as their second daughter – but that was ages ago.

Seokjin didn’t even call you when he and Emilia broke up.

“Seokjin,” you sigh. “Why are you asking me this?”

A long pause. “I just told you why.”

“No. I mean… I didn’t even know you were single.” You hesitate, then barrel on. “This is the first time we’ve talked on the phone since – god, I don’t even know. Last year?”

Seokjin’s ensuing silence is damning. An unspoken question hovers between you: Has anything changed since the last time we saw each other?

"I’m… sorry, Y/N." He hesitates. "I know… I should have reached out to you sooner. I just… just couldn’t.”

Your lips purse, staring at the door. Your break must be done, but luckily, Jimin has given you space to process. As much as he pretends to be needy, his ability to read the room is remarkable.

“Ugh,” you groan, head tipping back. Your eyes close. “Let me think about it.”

“Wait – really?” Seokjin blurts. “Thank you, Y/N! You won’t regret this – I swear.”

“I haven’t agreed to it yet!”

“Right, sure. Of course,” he hastens, attempting to sound mollified.

Your lips twitch. “I have to get back to my shift.”

“Yes. Make that money.”

“Eh.”

“Make… that minimum wage plus tips?”

“Closer,” you sigh, pushing yourself to stand. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay. And Y/N?”

You hover near the door. “Yeah?”

Seokjin pauses. “There are a lot of logical reasons why it’d be great if you came, but honestly?” His voice thickens slightly. “I just… want you there.”

There’s an ache in your chest you wish could say was a stranger. In truth though, the feeling is exactly why you should say no.

You never had a great sense of self-preservation, though. Instead, find yourself saying–

“Yes.”

[ TO BE CONTINUED ] © kpopfanfictrash, 2025. Do not copy or repost without permission.