#KSJ smut

[here4kpopfics]

Pieces of Greece | KNJ & KSJ

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon x reader Genre: smut, a little fluff, a whole lot of bickering AU: established relationship, fwb to lovers Wordcount: 17,100 on the dot Summary: After the events during Christmas in the Swiss mountains, your boyfriend Namjoon wants to go to Greece for his birthday. And, of course, another surprise in the form of Kim Seokjin. Warnings: There's. So. Much. Smut. Plane sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Namjoon loves to watch but this time he gets to participate. ice play, threesomes the entire time. DVP fun time, creampie, oral in every which way, unprotected sex, it goes on. mxm moments that make my heart happy. IT'S SMUT WITH SOME PLOT OKAY. Rating: M / 18+ AN: Sooooooooooooooo....Many many many many months ago, someone asked if there'd ever be a sequel. i joked there would be a summer vacation. then summer happened and nothing was written. Then I met my favorite @echotoyou and well, they said they loved Swiss Miss and I mentioned the thought of a sequel and they got excited and then Namjoon's birthday was coming up and i thought fuck it and THEY ASKED FOR MOST OF THE SMUT IN THIS OKAY. so this is for my baby starcandy. i love you so much, i hope you enjoy. Thank you to my lovely @theharrowing for beta-reading and @classicscreations for the banner/divider. Also tagging @simp47koreancrackheads for reasons. Enjoy!!! 💜Masterlist | AskBox | AO3

When Namjoon brought up the idea of an end of summer vacation for his birthday, you were hesitant at first. Last time you let him plan a vacation, he dragged you to the Swiss mountains and it was miserable. 

Well…not all of it was miserable. 

Seokjin being your Christmas present made up for the freezing mountain getaway. 

It’s been almost nine months since then. Seokjin’s been away filming and being a gorgeous model, but you both still kept in contact. The three of you agreed it’d be okay to send photos of you in lingerie sets, Namjoon taking it a step further to send videos of you riding his cock, begging to come. Seokjin would send videos back, specifically to you, of his hand stroking his cock until he was a moaning mess, coming all over himself. 

The two of you met up with him a few times since Christmas. Once in February, once in April, and the last time being very briefly in July when Namjoon watched on as Seokjin fucked you so ridiculously that you squirted all over the hotel bed while he erupted inside of you. 

As far as you were concerned, your relationship with Namjoon was technically still monogamous. At least, until Seokjin became involved and suddenly he was the added friend with benefits for you. Namjoon and Seokjin never got involved with one another; your boyfriend only ever watching on as his best friend fucked you sensless, and fucking you right after so your last orgasm was from the man you loved.

You understood Namjoon loved to watch. Every time you’d look over at him slowly rubbing his hard cock, either with his hand coated in your arousal or with your underwear, his eyes would be watching the faces you’d make in pleasure or the way Seokjin’s cock pounded into you. But there was always a moment where it felt like he wanted to be involved. You’ve tried to ask, but could never find a way to bring it up. 

So you agreed to the trip, hoping you’d get the chance to ask at some point. 

“Joon, what’d the attendant say?” Your boyfriend makes his way back to where you’re sitting in the terminal, wearing a long summer dress with thin straps. Your flight’s been delayed an hour at this point, and you’re feeling just a tad bit suffocated in this airport that conveniently has the air conditioning down for maintenance. 

“Good news and bad news.” He sighs, plopping down in the seat next to you, “which do you want first?”

“Always start with the bad.”

“Bad news is it’s another ‘forty-five minutes at least’ until we can board.” He pauses for your groan of frustration, fanning yourself with the book cover of some nonsense romance book you found in the gift shop. 

“And the good?”

“The good,” he smiles, handing you the boarding passes, “there aren’t a lot of people on our flight anyway, and the girl thought I was cute so we got upgraded to first class for free.”

Your eyes barely glance at the passes with the upgraded seat locations on them, instead finding their way to the female attendant that had her eyes on your boyfriend. Namjoon might not mind sharing you with another man, but you can’t say the same about you sharing Namjoon with another woman. 

“Y/n. Don’t give her that look.” 

“I’m not giving her a look.”

“Yes you are. You’re giving her that look at my man one more time and I’ll end your happiness look.”

“No I’m no— wait. I have a look like that?” You look at Namjoon with wide eyes, a grin slowly creeping across your face. “That’s so cool. Is it easily readable? Do I have others?” 

The girl is long forgotten about as you see Namjoon’s beautiful dimples appear with his smile as he leans closer to whisper in your ear. 

“Yeah. You make some other ones. Like when you’re about to come all over me. When I’ve fucked you so hard that you’re about to black out. The face you make when you realize you’ve taken every inch of me is my favorite, though.”

Your face flushes in heat as you sit completely still, eyes staring straight ahead. You hear him chuckle next to you before kissing your temple, leaning back in his seat with an arm resting against the back of yours. The goosebumps on your skin and the back of your neck raise with every pass his fingers make across your shoulder and back. You know it’s for comfort, but it feels like the best kind of torture. 

Shockingly, the wait time is far less than forty-five minutes before you’re one of the first groups to board, letting Namjoon hand over the boarding passes to the attendant. She gives him a big smile and flirty eyes and you have to fight yourself to not give her whatever look Namjoon was talking about. You’re about to spend ten hours on a plane, two weeks in Greece, and potentially the rest of your life with this man. She will be left behind at this terminal; she is no threat. 

If anything, she’s a gift to this world. The first class seats are amazing in comparison to the main cabin seats Namjoon originally booked. You immediately claim the cubby-like seat next to the window, Namjoon sitting in the cubicle parallel to yours. The flight attendant left you both pillows, blankets, a bottle of what deemed fancy water and snacks already laid out for each of you. 

“Is this what Jin experiences with being famous? Because if so, one of us needs to get on it, stat, Joon. Probably you. Make an onlyfans.” You giggle when he ignores you, his face taking a turn at going flush with heat. 

You don’t tease further, getting comfortable in your little bed for the next ten hours. You poke the buttons to make the bed come out from under your feet before returning it to a sitting position and pulling the partition down between you and your boyfriend’s seats. 

“Hi.” You smile at him while he sorts out both of your bags, pulling out your phone charger and handing it to you. “Thank you, Joonie.” You lean across the divider to give him a kiss, laughing when you try to pull back, only to have a giant hand cradle the back of your neck, tugging you back against his lips. 

“I love you, baby.” He whispers, finally pulling away when the surge of other passengers begin to board the plane. You quickly say it back, full love-sick grin on display for him. 

God, you really do love him. 

Halfway through the flight, you’re being nudged awake, pulled from an amazing dream or memory - you can’t tell anymore - of you and Namjoon. Your headphones are slowly pulled off your head as you groggily turn over to find Namjoon leaning through the divider with a smirk. 

“What?” You grumble, wiping your eyes. 

“You were moaning my name.”

“What?” You were moaning in your dream, but surely not in real life? On a plane? 

“Bathroom in five minutes.” Is all he says before sliding the divider back up. All you hear is quiet rustling until you see his top half making its way to the first class bathrooms. 

He can’t be serious. 

He can’t. 

While you love the control Namjoon has over you, and you both share an openness to exploring new kinks and sexual experiences, this wasn’t on either of your lists. 

You watch the time on your phone move slowly, one minute down. 

You shouldn’t do this.

Two minutes down. 

You’ll get caught. 

Three minutes. 

You’ll be banned from flying. And how will you get back home if so? A ship of some sort? 

Four. 

But he’s waiting for you. Possibly hard and you’re soaked from your dream. 

Five. 

You tuck your phone under your pillow, slowly crawling out of your cubicle and tiptoeing your way to the front. Luckily first class only has about eight seats and everyone seems to be sound asleep as you reach the bathroom door, giving one small secret knock. The door unlocks and you creep it open, sneaking your way in. 

“Holy fuck, it’s huge.” You whisper, eyes scanning the bigger than normal airplane bathroom. There’s enough space to have a moderately small sized counter and an actual sink. And enough space for your boyfriend to stand up tall without banging his head on the ceiling. 

“I feel like I should make a joke there, but we have limited time. Turn and bend. Now.” He quietly growls. It’s only then you notice his hardened length in his hand, slowly being pumped as he waits for you to follow instructions. 

“Sir, yes sir.” You quip, ignoring his glare as you turn around and brace yourself against the counter. He parts your legs with his feet, a hand grabbing your waist when you momentarily lose balance. 

“Remember. Not a sound, okay?” He whispers against your ear, tongue tracing down your neck. You quickly nod, skin shivering as he pulls the hem of your dress up, bringing the fabric to the front and giving it to you to hold against your stomach. Your underwear is dropped past your knees and you quickly step one foot out so you can freely move. 

He wastes no time smacking your ass once, grabbing at the meaty flesh right after. You fight back the yelp, covering your mouth as you watch his intense gaze through the mirror. His eyes are glued to your ass while he massages it, watching in awe as your arousal pools at your entrance. 

“Fuck, I love how ready you are for me all the time, baby.” He groans, lining your hips up with his, gliding his cock along your folds. You bite the inside of your cheek to not make a noise. 

“Stop that.” The hand on your hip slides up and around to your neck, pulling you up to his chest. “Don’t bite the inside of your cheek, it’ll get infected.”

“Then don’t tease me.” You rasp, voice straining when his grip tightens around your neck. 

“If you insist.” He gives one bite to your neck before letting you go and bending you forward again. He gives no warning as he realigns himself, pushing past your entrance in one go. 

You let out a silent scream, covering your mouth again with your free hand as you practically hug the sink. There’s no hesitation when he starts pounding into you, both of you a mess of silent moans. 

“Come back up here.” He groans, pulling you back up by your arms. “I think it’s me that has to be careful about sounds, baby. How are you always so fucking tight?”

“Feels so good.” You gasp, fighting the moan building in your throat when he kisses your neck.

He’s about to respond when there’s a small amount of turbulence, causing him to thrust even deeper into you. One of your hands flies to your mouth, followed quickly by him biting your neck. 

Namjoon removes your hand from your mouth, placing his there instead, snaking his fingers past your lips and making you suck. “Get yourself off on my cock, baby. We don’t have time.” You whine, your fingers quickly finding your clit and rubbing. 

Another little bout of turbulence and his cock being buried even deeper inside of you makes you fight against the urge to scream around his fingers, walls clenching as you come around his cock. He comes seconds later, deep inside, holding you close while his lips leave feather kisses across your skin. 

You’re both silent after, his cock remaining tucked deep within your walls as his hands rub up and down your sides realizing you have another five hours before landing. The kiss he places on your shoulder tells you he’s having the same thought. 

“Need help?” He asks in a hushed whisper. You shake your head, letting him pull out. It’s almost awkward having to move around one another to clean up, but Namjoon makes sure to give you his dimpled smile and a quick kiss every passing until he’s ready to go back, leaving you to finish up in peace. 

The rest of the flight was normal. Half the time you were asleep, the other half playing phone games with Namjoon or listening to music or watching a movie while he was reading. 

When you landed, Namjoon was quick to grab your carry on and usher you off the plane, almost running to baggage claim. 

“Jooooooon, our bags aren’t going to magically appear the second we get to baggage claim. They have to unload the plane first.”

“I know, I know. But…I have a surprise for you.” Namjoon grins, pulling you past baggage claim to where people are waiting for their loved ones to emerge.

And that’s when you swear your heart stops for a moment.

Kim Seokjin.

In Greece.

“Jin?!” You accidentally shout. In hindsight, you’ll understand why Namjoon grabbed your bags and didn’t let you carry anything. You would’ve dropped it all or thrown it across the building as you ran up to your friend and jumped into his awaiting embrace.

“Oh my god, you’re here?! Why are you here?” you start rambling off nonsense, speaking into his neck as he hugs you, holding you in the air with his arms holding just below your ass. “How have you been? How was the movi–”

“Princess, slow down!” He laughs, finally placing you back on your feet. Your hands rest on his forearms, his on your elbows as you finally look at him.

He’s still beautiful. His hair is still the same, if not a little bit longer. You told him he was in his long fluffy era while he’s taking a break from filming last time you saw him. It was fun tugging on it when his mouth was exploring your body. His eyes are a mixture of exhaustion, happiness, and a hint of mischief. He somehow looks bigger, like he’s been working out a lot more. It’s only been two months since you’ve seen him, but it feels like a lot longer. There’s a small ache in your heart when you look up at him, and you’re not even sure when you started crying until his hands cradle your face, thumbs wiping away your tears.

“Why is my beautiful princess crying, hmm? Can’t stand my beauty?” 

You scoff out a sob, lightly smacking him. The ache in your heart turns into a searing jolt at my beautiful princess. 

“Shut up, you’re hideous.” 

“Tell that to Vogue.” 

“Will do. I’ll write a book about it.” 

“Oh, can I have the first copy?”

“Of course. I’ll sign it and everything.” 

“Oh my god, what an honor.”

“I’ve missed you, Seokjin.”

“I’ve missed you too, y/n.”

He pulls you into another hug, tightening his arms around you when you let out a soft squeak.

“Okay, you two, let’s get this vacation underway.” Your boyfriend’s voice drags you out of the hug you’ve missed so much, stepping away from Seokjin to let the two men hug and greet one another while you mind the bags Namjoon must’ve grabbed while you were busy. 

“You’re not gonna run into my arms? Only her?” Seokjin playfully pouts at your boyfriend, who rolls his eyes in response, grabbing your hand in his.

“Nah, that’s her thing.” 

“What’s your thing then?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with a smirk.

“Later.” 

He doesn’t look at you, so you turn to look at Seokjin instead, who has an eyebrow raised at you. You shrug in response, giving him a look that says I’m just as confused and walk out with your boyfriend and best friend. 

“So, welcome to Athens.” Seokjin starts and he and Namjoon load the bags into the back of the small car, “I’ll be your driver today and the rest of the time we’re here until we get to–”

“Don’t say it, hyung.” Namjoon quickly interjects as you get in the passenger seat.

“Don’t say what?” You turn to look at your boyfriend sitting behind the driver’s seat. 

“You haven’t told her any of the plans?” Seokjin looks in the rear view mirror in astonishment. 

“Nope. And it stays that way.”

“Boo.”

“Lame.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Joon, it’s your birthday. Why am I the one being surprised?”

He doesn’t say anything more, giving Seokjin a knowing smile that frustrates you when he raises his eyebrows and grins in response. 

You pout, “I hate you both.”

“Lying is bad for your health, princess.” 

Your annoyance with the two men in the car is quickly forgotten about when Seokjin starts driving through Athens. Everything is gorgeous. You get a little giddy, driving through streets you refuse to admit to going through on Google maps, or seeing structures you’ve seen in video games. 

“Princess, look out my window.” Seokjin’s hand lightly grabs at your thigh to get your attention, making you swivel around to look out his window where you can just make out a building you know you’ve climbed in an Assassin’s Creed game. 

“Is that the Parthenon?!” The question is rhetoric, but your excitement is overflowing. “Holy shit, we’re actually in Greece! Can we go see the Olympic park? The observatory? Oh! Joon there’s some really cool art museums there, too! Can we go there?”

“Baby, breathe.” Your boyfriend laughs, Seokjin snickering beside you, his hand still on your thigh, “we’ll go tomorrow first thing. Today we just need to get to the hotel and get dinner.” 

“How are we going to do all this in two weeks? Greece is huge.” You plop back in your seat, huffing in response. 

It’s only now you notice Seokjin’s hand on your thigh, following the limb up to its owner who has his eyes switching from the road to the gps, slightly confused expression on his face in concentration. You turn your head to look at Namjoon, whose eyes are on the hand on your thigh, a soft smile he tries to hide when he realizes you’re looking. 

It’s confusing. It should be Namjoon’s hand there, and yet it still feels right. You love Namjoon. Absolutely head over heels in love with him. 

But in comes Seokjin. The man you’ve had a crush on for years. Who you finally found out actually had feelings for you too. 

You adore Seokjin. You always will. You probably could’ve fallen in love with him if he had said anything back then. But then what would’ve happened with Namjoon? Your stomach drops at the thought.

You silently thank any and every god there is that neither you or Seokjin said anything and that you met your boyfriend. And that by some weird miracle, he’s willing to share you with no one other than Seokjin.

You’re so spaced out, you barely notice when Seokjin pulls into the parking lot of where you will be staying. It’s a gorgeous private villa, an elegant white building with a mixture of modern and Greek design. You hop out of the car while the two men grab the bags. 

“You got a whole house?” You’re not sure if you’re asking Namjoon or Seokjin. But they both respond at the same time. 

“Yes.”

“Yup. Privacy is priceless.” Seokjin chimes in. You roll your eyes with a smile, grabbing the key from him and unlocking the door. 

“There’s three king sized beds and two smaller ones. I took one of the king ones just off the kitchen.” Seokjin guides you both through the house, bags left by the front door with your shoes, “there’s a sauna, a little gym, air conditioning thank god, and a bunch more I haven’t actually explored yet.” 

“With how much we’ll be exploring, we don’t really need a sauna or a gym or anything like that. Y’all really love to go overboard.” You poke both of them in their sides, Namjoon quietly grabs your wrist while Seokjin dramatically cries out as if you’ve stabbed him. 

“It’s nice to have the option, princess!” His dramatics will never cease to amuse you, “Aish, now I’m going to bruise and it’s all your fault.” He rubs his side as he walks away, heading towards the kitchen. 

“Let him have the weird accommodations, baby. He’s a celebrity like that.” Namjoon speaks next to your ear, wrapping his arms around your middle and hugging you. 

“He’s weird.”

“And yet…” his voice trails off, his nose nudging against your throat when he kisses your shoulder. 

“And yet…” you sigh, repeating the statement back. You both silently stand in the middle of the living area, Namjoon leaving kisses across your shoulder, and you staring out the window. You can see just enough of the city of Athens, it feels like a dream. 

“I’m gonna shower really quick, go keep Seokjin entertained, hmm?” Your boyfriend kisses your temple, humming when you agree. He gives your ass a light smack before he walks away, grabbing the bags and taking them to a room with a bathroom. 

You find your way to the kitchen where Seokjin is holding two bottles of wine in either hand, eyes flicking back and forth on each label. He looks up when you enter, eyes scanning next to you before he pouts. 

“Where's Joon?”

“Shower. Told me to entertain you.” You shrug, walking with a little skip over to him. He smirks as you hop up on the island counter, placing the bottles of wine on the main counter away from you. 

“And how do you plan on entertaining me, princess?” His tone teases and you shrug once again, kicking your feet out a little as you rest your palms on the counter’s edge. 

“I dunno. How would you like to be entertained?” You know where this is going, you haven’t seen or felt him in over two months. You miss him. So much. 

And he has clearly missed you just as much when he grabs your kicking feet, moving them to spread your legs so he can stand between them. One of his hands finds the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair, as he brings your lips to his. 

It’s slow and deep, but it quickly turns heated and desperate when his head turns to the side to gain better access. Your lips part and you let out a soft moan that he quickly swallows, tongues fighting against one another as he keeps his fingers tangled in your hair and the other hand gripping your hip tight. 

Your hands stay cradling his face, desperate to remember how he feels when kissing you so desperately. 

“God, princess, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”  

“Me too.” You pant between kisses. 

“How often I look at those photos you sent me or the videos Joon sent of you taking his cock so deep. It fucking killed me every time.”

“Jin.” You moan when his lips trail down to your clavicle. 

“I don’t need to see old buildings or art or any of that, I’d rather spend the next two weeks fucking you with Namjoon.” He curses against your skin, your dress’s straps falling off your shoulder. Your breasts are so close to spilling out, if not for a third voice causing you both to jump, you pulling the straps back up to cover yourself. 

“As much as I would like to have two weeks to fuck our baby stupid, I didn’t plan this trip for that.” Namjoon gives a mischievous smirk. You know he might not have planned for that. But he did plan something. You just don’t know what. 

“As long as I get to taste her at some point.” Seokjin says, smiling up at you as he speaks to your boyfriend. 

“You will, but for now she should shower the plane off of her and get ready for dinner.” 

You nod, sighing as you tap Seokjin’s arms to let go of you. He backs away, letting you hop down and toward your boyfriend who grabs your waist as you walk by, tugging you to stand in front of him. 

“Be a good girl, and you’ll get rewarded.” He whispers, kissing your forehead. You give him a playful glare, stepping to the side and walking past him, towards the bathroom he used.

You shower quickly, changing into another summer dress, this one a mix of green and blue chiffon with beautiful off-shoulder straps that fall perfectly in place just below your shoulders. Even though it’s about five in the evening, it’s still ridiculously hot. You put barely any makeup on, fixing your hair up to stop yourself from sweating down your back. 

When you return to the kitchen, Namjoon is bothering Seokjin while he’s focused on pouring the three of you some wine, making sure it’s an equal amount for each of you. What takes you by surprise, however, is Namjoon’s chin resting on his friend’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around his middle like he does with you. 

Oh. 

Suddenly it makes sense. 

“There she is!” Seokjin’s voice pipes through the kitchen. Namjoon slowly backs away from Seokjin’s back, grabbing two glasses of wine and bringing one to you. 

“You look stunning, baby.” 

“Thank you. It’s too hot.” You pout, taking the wine and giving a small thanks. You join him and Seokjin back in the kitchen where he’s prepared a little plate of snacks to go with the wine. 

“That’s Greece. I don’t think it’s ever cold?” Namjoon shrugs, taking a sip of his wine. 

“I bet it’s like LA. Maybe cold like once or twice a year.” Seokjin pops a cracker into his mouth. You share a look with Namjoon, both of you snickering. 

“Oh, look at this fancy boy, saying LA like it’s so casual for him.” You tease, taking a big sip of the wine. 

“Ha ha ha. Keep being jealous.” He deadpans. 

“Me? Jealous? Of your exhausting life? Absolutely not, handsome. I like being in Seoul where I sleep and eat and the only traveling I do is to various museums and art galleries for work.”

“Ah, yes. Our little curator. That’s how you stole her from the world, right Namjoon?” 

“I didn’t steal her.”

“More like held me hostage.”

“In bed I assume?” 

“Of course. Then I think it became some sort of Stockholm Syndrome and I fell in love.”

“A true romance right there. Can I tell that story at the wedding?” 

“Please. I’ll write it all down for you.” 

“Thank you, princess. I’ll memorize it and give the best performance.”

“I know you will.”

“God, I forgot what it’s like when you two get together.” Namjoon groans, leaning over the counter to bury his head in his arms. You look over at Seokjin in feigned shock. 

“I feel like he’s being rude and offensive.”

“So rude. So offensive.” 

“Extremely.”

“I thought you loved us!” Seokjin exclaims dramatically, hand on chest and fake tears starting to build up. 

“I do!” He laughs almost manically, lifting his head up and running his fingers through his hair. “It’s like you’re twins or something, it’s so much.” 

You giggle, leaning across the counter to soothe your boyfriend. 

“We’ll tone it down a bit, babe. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Seokjin shrugs, a smug look on his face. He exclaims when you lightly hit his shoulder, “What? He said he loves me! I’m over the fucking moon right now.” 

All three of you laugh, finishing up your wine and snack grazing. Seokjin orders a cab for the three of you to take to a fancy restaurant by the beach where there’s even more wine. Multiple bottles of it. 

You barely remember the dinner, only remembering that the wine kept coming and resulted in both men having their hands on you the entire night. Whether it was Namjoon’s hands on your waist while standing in a crowd, or Seokjin’s hand clutching yours tight while guiding you through the masses of people. 

The light touches on your arms at dinner or your thighs in the car, they both knew what they were doing to you and fully aware of the hold they had on you. 

At one point, you ended up in a square that had people performing live music and people dancing to it. Seokjin dragged you and Namjoon to the makeshift dance floor, making you dance with your back against his chest and Namjoon facing you. Your hips swayed perfectly against Seokjin’s, pressing just right against his cock while Namjoon’s was pressing against your lower stomach. 

Both men covered either side of your neck with kisses, really testing your ability to not moan in public. It took you mumbling something about going home for them to stop, quickly getting a ride back to the private villa. 

The moment you hit the mattress, Namjoon has you splayed out on the bed, your summer dress riding dangerously high up your legs. Seokjin stands at the edge of the bed, quietly taking his shirt and pants off. 

Namjoon, still fully clothed minus his shoes, crawls over your body, deeply kissing you while his hand roams your entire body. His lips trail down your neck to your shoulder where he stops for a moment. It’s when he lets out a heavy sigh that you feel a sense of panic. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m too drunk.”

“What?”

“I can barely stay awake, baby.” He rolls off you, laying on his side while he hugs a pillow. 

“But…”

“Jinnie can take care of you. Right, hyung?” He barely opens his eyes to look at the older male, who looks just as confused as you do. “You just can’t fuck her though. Have her ride your thigh. That should do it.”

His eyes fall shut and you sit up, not sure what to do next. You look over to Seokjin, who’s looking at you for confirmation of what to do next, standing there in his underwear that’s straining his cock right now. 

“Should we go to your room?” You ask tentatively, moving to get up when he nods.

“No.” Namjoon’s voice returns from its slumber. “I wanna hear it. Do it here.”  

“Joonie, you’re tired.” You try to reason, but you know for a fact you’d rather do it here than without him there. 

“Here or not at all, baby.” His tired groan sounds serious, so you nod again, bending over to kiss his cheek, a small dimple appearing from his smile. 

“I love you, Joonie.”

“Love you too.” 

You turn back to Seokjin, a hand reaching out that he quickly takes, pulling you up to meet his standing position with your knees on the bed.  

“We don’t have to.” He murmurs, fingers delicately tangling with yours while his other hand finds your waist, bunching up the fabric there. 

You shake your head, leaning forward to softly meet his lips with yours. Kissing Seokjin is an experience every time. His plush pout’s ability to take over the kiss, and the moans he makes when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth to try to regain control, makes you want to crumble into a pile of goo. 

“I need something, anything, Jinnie. Please?”

You rarely call Seokjin by the nickname Namjoon and Yoongi gave him years ago. You could probably count on one hand how many times you’ve said it. While it was a loving joke type of nickname from the guys, it always felt almost too intimate coming from you. So you have always stuck with Jin. 

Seokjin sighs, smiling at your adorable pouty expression. He whispers okay before leaning in to kiss you again, “what princess wants, princess gets.” 

Giant hands maneuver you so he can lay down. When you twist your body to straddle his lap while facing him, the big hands still your hips. 

“Ride my face.” 

Funny how three little words can make your entire body feel like it’s on fire.

You quickly look over to Namjoon who has his eyes closed, pillow tucked against his chest, but there’s a smile there that you know was in response to Seokjin’s order. 

You huff out, moving to crawl further up Seokjin’s body, but you’re stopped again when you’re just about over his face. 

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“If I can’t fuck you right now, I need your mouth to remind me what it can do.” 

You nod, afraid if you speak, it’ll be mushed up nonsense, and turn around, getting on your hands and knees facing away from Seokjin. His hands grab your upper thighs and tug you closer to his face, making you gasp and almost fall forward when you lose balance on your hands. 

“The dress has to go, y/n.” He gives your ass a light squeeze and you quickly rid the dress from your body. Jin lets out a low hum of approval at your matching bra and underwear; a deep crimson red and satin set.

“Every time…” he says under his breath, hooking his fingers into the side of your underwear and pulling it to your knees. You awkwardly lift one so he can move the underwear off it, not caring about the other leg. 

You palm Seokjin’s cock through his briefs, smiling softly at the sound he makes. 

You don’t hear his response, only gasping when he tugs your lower half down to meet those plush lips of his as he licks a long stripe through your folds, lips wrapping around your clit. 

“Fuck, Jin.” You whimper, head dropping to his hip as you slowly rut against his face. His hand smacks the side of your thigh, making you still. 

“Let me take care of you, princess.” He says, almost as a warning. 

You nod, forgetting he can’t see you, and lift your head up. With one of your shaking hands, you free his cock from the confines of his briefs, momentarily laughing when he tries to kick the fabric off his body. 

A harsh suck against your clit stops you from laughing. 

You pull yourself together again, wrapping your fingers around his impressive length. You fondly remember when you saw it for the first time last Christmas. You wanted so badly to touch it, hold it in your palm to feel how heavy it was. But there was a desperate need the first time you were with him. Now, nine months later, you had all the time in the world. 

Leaning down, you kiss the tip of his cock, enjoying the way it twitches at the contact followed by Seokjin’s light moan. You do it a few more times, on the tip, down the shaft, a kiss or two lands on his balls. Each kiss earns a twitch or a groan. Just as his tongue dives deep in your folds, you gather enough spit to trickle past your lips and onto his cock, using your hand to spread it around before slowly lowering your mouth down his now leaking member. 

You let his cock prod the back of your throat for a moment, thanking whatever gods that you barely have a gag reflex, and hum around him. Your nails dig into his thighs as he groans against your center, a hand smacking your ass. 

“Princess, what the fuck are you doing to me.”

His hips buck up, his cock somehow finding its way deeper down your throat. You cough, fighting the urge to pull off as his hips continue to buck up, your hands finding the bedding to brace yourself as he fucks your throat. You whine when two fingers ease past your folds, curling inside of you to press against your walls. 

It’s not long after that, that you’re crying, coming around his fingers and tongue and whining around his cock. Seconds later, he’s coming as well, bitter liquid shooting down your throat. 

You’re so lost in focusing on swallowing and not choking that you don’t hear the small breath of a laugh coming from your boyfriend. 

Seokjin, however, heard perfectly. 

“Ya, your girl’s a menace.”

You lift your throat off his cock, taking slow but short breaths as you look over at your boyfriend whose eyes travel from your lips down to his best friend’s soaked cock, some cum still coated around him. 

You glance down at the wet spot at his crotch. 

“Are you still too tired?” Your voice rasps. He nods, but your eyes stay locked on his crotch. 

Seokjin pats your ass, signaling for you to crawl off just enough that he can get off the bed. 

“I’m gonna shower and head to bed. Tomorrow we will explore Athens.” He gives you a kiss on the cheek before turning to the door and heading to his room. You smile, turning back to your boyfriend who has his eyes barely opened, watching you. Your eyes go back to the wet patch. 

“Let me take care of you, Joonie.”

“Baby…”

“Please?” 

“I’m fine, baby. Come to bed.” Sighing, you lay down next to him, your leg finding its way between his as you lean in just enough, connecting your lips to his. He moans deeply, tasting Seokjin on your tongue. Your suspicions are confirmed as you feel the bulge in his pants move underneath you. 

“You sure you don’t want me to take care of that?” You tease against his lips. Your hand sneaks between you both, but is quickly grabbed by Namjoon’s. 

“Yes, baby. I’m sure.” He smiles, eyes shut as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your fingers briefly. “Sleep.” 

You murmur defeat, getting off the bed to brush your teeth and change into a large shirt to sleep in. When you come back to bed, Namjoon is fast asleep on his back, his arm splayed out waiting for you. You pout, crawling into bed and curling up against his side. The moment your head rests on his shoulder, his arm moves on instinct to wrap around your back, thumb moving back and forth against your shoulder. 

It’s not until you’re at the edge of falling asleep that you realize this is the first time Namjoon let you be with Seokjin without claiming you after or being the one to make you come last.

Athens is beautiful. You spent the first three days simply wandering around the ancient city, going from ruin to ruin and museum to museum.

This is how you met Namjoon. You were part of the opening of a new museum in Seoul and Yoongi dragged Namjoon as his plus one. You both immediately hit it off and have been in love ever since. 

Yoongi demanded to be one to marry you both, getting ordained on your one year anniversary just in case. 

Museums and art galleries quickly became your thing with Namjoon. While it was a part of your job to constantly be in museums and galleries, it’s your dream job for a reason. And what could be better than finding someone who loves your job as much as you do? 

Seokjin, however, never showed any particular interest in museums or art in general. Sure, he’d go and take pictures either of or in front of the art, post it to socials, and come up with some horrible dad joke. But he couldn’t stand the idea of spending hours walking around looking at things from years and years ago. 

But you have to give him brownie points, he persevered the few days in Athens, knowing there would be wine and delicious food at the end of it all. And potentially a blow job from you. 

Namjoon still refused you both from actual sex, making you and Seokjin pout or whine. Seokjin almost begged one night, much to Namjoon’s delight, but he still said no. 

After Athens, the three of you packed your bags and boarded a boat to head to the next stop in Greece. Seokjin was beyond excited, Namjoon had a smug smile the entire way over, and you were completely clueless. 

That is, until you stepped off the boat onto a wooden deck and it clicked immediately. 

“Is this…?”

“Where they filmed Mamma Mia? Yes. Yes it is.” Namjoon replies, helping Seokjin off the boat after you. 

“Ahhh, it’s even prettier in person!” Seokjin's voice squeaks, running to stand next to you, hand grabbing yours. 

You grin, trying to avoid screaming like you want to. Mamma Mia has and always will be one of your favorite films. It’s your comfort movie and you and Seokjin would watch it consistently when either of you had a shitty day. You’d always end up standing on the couch or coffee table dramatically singing along with the ABBA songs or quoting the movie and acting them out while it played in the background. 

Still holding Seokjin’s hand, you turn to your boyfriend, who’s making sure all the luggage is accounted for. 

“Oh, right. Sorry, Joonie.” You drag Seokjin back to Namjoon, both of you grabbing as much luggage as you can and following the other tourists off the dock. 

Again, Seokjin arranged for a private villa. This one, however is smaller, only has one bed as well as a couch, and no air conditioning. 

The first two days aren't a problem. The weather is cool, the clouds covering the sun a majority of the day, and an amazing ocean breeze to make you shiver every now and again. The three of you travel around the island, you and Seokjin giggling every time you find a spot from the movie and having Namjoon take a photo of the both of you mid-reenactment. 

During the third and last day on Skopelos, however, there was a heat wave. And it is miserable to put it nicely. 

So miserable, none of you want to move. Seokjin is groaning that Greece isn't going anywhere. And you are complaining that days like this are why Google Street View exists. Namjoon is huffy at you both, deciding to go for a run while you two lie around, complaining about the heat. 

It is on his run, however, when a perfect idea pops into his head as he sees some locals with frozen treats. 

When he comes in, he finds you lying on the tile floor, your flowy summer dress draped around your body and the floor, and Seokjin on the couch, one leg dangling off the edge and the other off the back of the couch. You both look ridiculous as Namjoon heads to the kitchen. 

“Jooooooonie, can you make the fan do more?”

It’s a silly question to ask, you know the answer. But you have hope. 

“Nope, baby. Sorry.” He answers, head in the freezer. “I have a better idea, though. Hyung, come here.” 

He groans, throwing himself off the couch dramatically and playfully stomping his way to Namjoon in the kitchen. He’s about to speak when the two exchange glances. Seokjin glances down at the bowl in his hand and grins, nodding quickly as if to agree to Namjoon’s silent question. 

“Princess.”

“Baby.”

They speak at the same time, causing you to tilt your head backwards, looking at the upside down men quizzically. 

“Hmm?”

How’s the tile down there?” Your boyfriend asks, hands behind his back. 

“It’s cooler than the bed.” You answer slowly as Seokjin sits behind you, Namjoon moving to sit in front of you.

“Wanna play a game?”

“You wouldn’t let me bring my switch, so we can’t unless there’s one here…”

“No. Princess. A game.” 

It takes a second to process, but when it finally clicks, Namjoon’s already starting to spread your legs, the dress’s fabric falling to your hips. 

“Joonie, it’s too hot…”

“Right. It is way too hot. Which is why I want to play a game.”

You question what he means, allowing Seokjin to lift your head and shoulders enough to tuck himself underneath you, letting your upper torso and your head to rest against chest

“I just wanna help you cool down, baby.” He smirks, bringing the bowl into view for you to see what he means. It’s a small but deep bowl full of ice cubes and pieces alike. 

Fuck. 

You’re not sure if you say it in your mind or out loud. Possibly out loud since both men grin wide, snickering as Namjoon spreads your legs further. You relax into Seokjin’s chest, his hands finding the bottom of your dress and shimmying it up your torso. You lift your ass off the ground ever so slightly so he can pull the dress further up until he fully removes it, tossing it to the side. 

“Gonna be a good girl for us, princess?” Seokjin smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“What are the rules?” You ask softly, your hands finding Seokjin’s forearms resting on your shoulders. 

“The rules, baby, are simple.” Namjoon grins, picking up one of the ice cubes, holding it in his fist to help it melt down a bit. 

“Move, and we stop. Come before we say so, and we stop.”

“I don’t like those rules.” You pout, Namjoon rolls his eyes, ignoring you while Seokjin snickers. 

“There’s our princess being a brat.”

“Those are the rules, baby. Follow them and you get rewarded.”

“What’s the reward?”

Namjoon looks up to Seokjin, eyebrows raised at Seokjin’s questioning gaze. 

“It’s a surprise.” He finally answers, putting the ice cube back in the bowl and trailing his frozen cold hand up your body. You shiver, fighting the urge to pull away from the freezing hand. 

“I like to know what I’m winning.” You grumble through chattering teeth, your boyfriend's hand softly gliding up your waist to behind your back. 

“I know you do, baby. And I promise you, you’ll feel so fulfilled after.” He whispers, undoing the clasp on your bra. 

“Joon.” You whine, fingers digging into Seokjin’s arms after your bra gets removed. 

“Ready, baby?” 

You nod, hating his teasing tone. 

He grabs the ice cube again, it already melting in his palm as he hovers his hand above your chest. All three of you wait as the little drop of freezing water develops under his grip, slowly getting ready to drip down. 

You feel yourself breathing harder, chest rising faster as you watch the droplet. When it finally drops, it feels like a spike of ice landing

But before the drop can land on your skin, Namjoon’s pulling it away again.

“New rule. Close your eyes, baby.”

You whine again, body wiggling in anticipation. 

“Eyes, princess. Let us make you feel good.” Seokjin whispers against your temple. You nod, shutting your eyes tight and leaning further back into Seokjin’s embrace. 

Not even seconds later, you feel a drop of water drip on your chest between your breasts.

“Fuck!” You yelp, body lifting off the ground from the initial shock. 

“Already breaking the rules, baby. Stay still or we stop.” Namjoon’s deep voice teases as another few drops land across your chest. 

“Okay. Okay okay okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes shut as you grip onto Seokjin’s arms even more to stay still.

You have no idea where the ice is going to be next, your body tensing in preparation for another jolt of cold against your skin. It’s almost torture how long between drops Namjoon lets it be before you feel a full cube against the bottom curve of your breast. 

You let out a high pitched whine, forcing yourself to stay still as he glides the ice all around your breasts, to across your clavicle, down the sides of your waist and across your middle section. Your breathing returns to rapid breaths, shivering with goosebumps as well as just pure arousal. 

You can’t tell what’s turning you on more; the frozen water being softly dragged across your sensitive skin, or the melted water that remains in its path, dripping down your sides and making its way to your back. 

Opposite of the freezing ice, however, is how hot Seokjin’s skin feels behind you. It almost feels like the ice dripping behind you is evaporating the moment it makes contact with his skin. 

It’s too hot. 

But you want more. 

Need more. 

The last piece of ice melts directly over your belly button, your breath stuttering when Namjoon’s hand goes flat across your stomach, gliding up to between your breasts and around your throat. 

“Good girl. Ready for more?” 

You whimper out a yes, your legs subconsciously spreading further for him, like your body begging where to go next. 

“Remember. No movements, princess.” Seokjin teases, having noticed your legs. 

You huff out in complaint, but it quickly turns into a shaking gasp when there’s an ice cube tracing up your inner thigh. Namjoon skips over where you want it most, dragging the cube to your other thigh and back up to your lower stomach, dancing the cube along the waistline of your underwear. 

“Joonie, please.”

“Please what?” 

“I hate the teasing.” You pout petulantly, head twisting to the side to bury your face in Seokjin’s arm. You’re desperately trying to ignore the hardening bulge pressing up against your back.

“Mmmm, I’d say otherwise, baby. You’re soaking through.  I mean, hyung just look at how soak—”

A string of curse words leave your lips, unable to hear anything the men are teasing about, when Namjoon presses a cube directly over the wet patch of your underwear, fitting perfectly against your folds and your clit. 

“Ya! No biting!” Seokjin’s voice yells, prying your mouth away from his bicep. 

Namjoon pulls the ice away, giving your clothed center a light smack. Your hips jerk from the sensation, fighting back the urge to open your eyes. 

“‘M sorry, Jin.” You whimper, kissing where you think you bit. 

“I don’t know if I should forgive you, princess. That was a very bad thing to do.”

“No no, I’ll be good. Please.”

There’s silence. With the inability to see them, you can’t tell if they’re silently discussing whether to punish or reward you. 

“I feel like she’s been through enough, Joonie. Maybe we should just stop here.”

“She can take more.”

“I can. I can do it. Please.” 

“What’s the word, baby?”

“Wendigo.” You let out a breathless laugh, the two men snickering at the memory. 

Namjoon taps your hip, telling you to lift so he can remove your underwear, tossing it aside with your dress. You feel movement down between your legs before you feel a sudden warm breath, making your toes curl. 

“Remember, princess. No movement.” 

You nod vigorously, clutching onto Seokjin again when Namjoon’s warm tongue licks a full stroke up your folds, the tip teasingly dancing against your clit. 

He’s vicious with the way he teases you, breathing against your soaked center with his hot breath before bringing the melting cube to your clit when he can feel you’re close. Your constant moans and cries only encourage him further as he pops the cube into his mouth, settling it below his tongue, and dancing it at your entrance. The switch between warm tongue and ice cube is infuriating to say the least.

“You’re being such a good girl, princess. I think Joonie might reward you soon.” Seokjin’s deep voice against your ear sends a different kind of shiver down your spine. 

Namjoon’s mouth pulls away from your throbbing center, giving your inner thigh a light kiss. You take a deep breath, eyes still shut, as you wait for whatever pleasurable torture was next. 

But nothing happens. 

Nothing happens for what feels like eternity but, in reality, it’s only a minute or two before you feel your boyfriend’s body move away from you. The sounds of shuffling as well as Seokjin letting you go slack against his body.

“Do you trust me, baby?” Namjoon’s voice comes from where you think the kitchen is located. You nod, muttering out of course while leaning further into Seokjin’s chest. 

“Let’s move her to the couch, hyung. Baby, keep your eyes shut.” Seokjin does as he’s told, lifting you up carefully and bringing you to stand in front of the couch. It sounds like more ice is being put into the ceramic bowl. Your body shakes at the thought.

“Sit, hyung.” When you hear movement to the left of you, you can only assume Seokjin’s following orders. 

“Jagi…” Namjoon’s voice is suddenly right in front of you, a big cold hand softly caressing your waist. The temperature makes you jump, but you settle into it immediately.

“I think hyung was right, you deserve a reward. I’m gonna sit you down on hyung’s cock, and you’re gonna be good and take it all, right?”

You nod again, pouting slightly when he reminds you to keep your eyes closed as he leads you back. Your hands reach behind you, finding Seokjin’s immediately as he and Namjoon help you onto the couch. They sit you down on Seokjin’s lap, your legs spread and hooked on either side of his thighs. Seokjin lets go of one of your hands to wrap around his cock, giving himself a few pumps before his tip meets your entrance. 

“Ready, princess?” 

“Please.” You beg, head falling back when he presses the tip past your folds, slowly easing himself inside of you. 

“Good job, baby. Keep taking his cock, take every inch.” Namjoon’s praises sound like they’re coming from below you, but you’re not sure, unable to focus as you try to relax around Seokjin’s massive length. 

Once you give the okay to Seokjin, he sinks down on the couch a bit more, bringing you back to plant your feet on the cushion so his hips are free to move at the pace he knows drives you crazy. 

You cry out, it’s been months since you’ve had him inside you and it feels so fucking good, you could write poems and songs about how good his cock feels filling and stretching you out with every thrust. 

“Fuck, please. Please let me come. Feels too good. Plea— oh, fuck.” Your body jolts at the sudden feeling of ice against the junction where your pelvis meets your thigh. Seokjin’s hands quickly steady you, massive hands holding your waist still while he continues to fuck you. 

The moans you make are pornographic as the ice cube slides around your skin, gliding and dancing around your pulsing clit that when he finally brings it there, you let out a sharp gasp. You bite your bottom lip, trying to fight the curses you want to scream at the top of your lungs. 

Namjoon quickly removes the cube from against your sensitive bundle of nerves, questioning Seokjin for permission to something you can’t hear because you’re too focused on Seokjin’s cock hitting exactly where it needs to. 

When you hear Seokjin whine, saying yes, he slows down his thrusts, hands bringing your waist down to sit on his lap with his cock fully inside of your clenching walls. 

You resist asking them what they’re doing, knowing it’s pointless. You lean your head against Seokjin’s shoulder, facing his neck as your lips find skin. 

You’re about to press soft kisses against the skin when a sharp bolt of ice courses through your body. 

Your eyes snap open, looking down at where you and Seokjin are connected and you nearly come just from the sight of Namjoon’s tongue shoving a small mostly melted ice cube past your entrance and against the bulging vein around Seokjin’s cock. 

Your boyfriend’s tongue is on your best friend’s dick. 

Okay, maybe it’s not on his dick, but it’s close enough to just graze over that counts. 

The fingers holding onto your waist dig deep into your skin as Seokjin groans at the feeling of the ice cube being kept inside of you by his dick. 

You whine, head leaning back again and shutting your eyes once more as you feel the cube, melting fast, make its way inside of you, being eased deeper by the head of Seokjin’s cock. 

“How’s it feel, baby?” Your boyfriend’s voice rumbles against your skin as he sits up on his knees, large hands on your thighs, watching the way you take Seokjin’s cock. 

“So fucking good.” You whimper. 

“Fucking heaven.” Seokjin whines behind you, hips beginning to lose their rhythm, teeth grazing your neck. “I won’t last long, fuck it’s so impossible to last long with you, y/n.”

You let out a soft laugh, a moan mixing through it, as you reach behind you, tugging Seokjin’s hair to pull his face back to yours, trapping him in a kiss. 

“Come for me, Jin. Fill me up. Please.” You repeat your request against his lips until you’re wincing from his teeth catching your bottom lip and one last thrust. The sensation of his cum filling you up makes you both moan. 

Namjoon’s hands help you lift yourself just enough that Seokjin’s cock slips out, but he quickly stands, leaning over you both on the couch, and slides himself past your entrance, stuffing his hyung’s cum back inside. 

“Joon!” You cry out, hands flying away from Seokjin and grasping Namjoon’s forearms. 

“Take his cock, princess. Gotta keep all my cum in there.” Seokjin’s strained voice comes from behind you. One hand barely helps to hold you up as the other sneaks away and you hear that damn ceramic bowl with ice being moved around. 

“Don’t you dare.” You mumble, immediately feeling Seokjin laugh under you.

“I thought you could take it, y/n?” Seokjin teases, grasping an ice cube and tracing it along your waist. You gasp, trying to move your body away from the sensation, but Namjoon tugs you back on top of the older man as he starts thrusting. 

Seokjin’s fingers trail the cube up your waist, alongside your ribs, just below your breasts, before finally bringing it to one of your nipples. Your back attempts to arch, but Seokjin’s other hand forces you back down from your stomach until you’re fully lying on him, no longer hovering.

It’s a chaotic mix of teasing, pleasure, and pain as Namjoon’s thumb starts circling your clit as he pounds into you at the same time as Seokjin’s ice trails along your skin. You barely give a warning before you’re crying out over your orgasm, body shaking and trying to grab onto anything you can. 

It’s only seconds later you feel Namjoon’s cock twitch inside of you, making you feel more full than before.

You wake up to the sounds of Seokjin snoring behind you. Eyes opening wide in panic when he lets out a rather loud one that almost sounds like he’s choking. You try to turn over to check on him, but you’re being held down by one of his arms. 

When your eyes open, you’re met with Namjoon’s closed ones, silently sleeping. He’s hugging his pillow tight, somehow unaware of the loud snores behind you. 

Or so you think. 

You try moving again, freezing instantly when Namjoon’s eyes open, a soft smile forming. 

“Hey, beautiful.” He whispers softly, his voice gravelly from the slumber. 

“Hi?”

“How you feeling?” His question confuses you. 

You feel fine. But you last remember Namjoon coming inside of you and that’s it. 

“Good? I don’t…remember what happened.” You try shuffling close to your boyfriend, but Seokjin’s hold on you is tight. Namjoon lets out a soft giggle, scooting closer to you instead. 

“You kinda passed out…?” His eyebrows raise a little, smile starting to form into a small laugh, “not like anything bad. But, after I came, you were a little loopy? It was amusing. We took care of you though. Cleaned you up and everything.”

“Hmm. I genuinely don’t remember, but thank you, baby.” 

“Where’s my thank you.” The voice behind you grumbles against your skin. You and Namjoon laugh as you twist your face into the pillow, muffling yourself. 

“Thank you, Jinnie” your voice drowns in the pillow. 

“Namjoon should thank me too. I was super helpful.”

You laugh into the pillow. 

“I take thank yous in kisses, please and thank you.” He snickers. You shake your head, twisting your body to face him now. 

“Shut up, hyung.” Namjoon sighs, his hand rubbing up against your waist.

Seokjin’s so pretty when he wakes up. His face is a little extra puffy, but it’s so cute. You love it. 

“I’ll get my kiss from him one day.” He pouts. 

“One day. I believe in it.” You grin, leaning in to give him an obnoxious kiss, pulling away with a loud mwah sound. 

The three of you laze around the rest of the day, only going out to get dinner before returning to sleep. 

The next day, the three of you make the trip to the final destination: Mykonos. 

It’s an island you had discussed early on in the relationship. Your typical Greece imagery of gorgeous waters, all white buildings and blue trim, beautiful beaches all around. Everything about it was perfect in the images you looked at. But it’s nothing compared to seeing it in person. 

You guys have the last four days here to just relax and enjoy the beaches. 

The day before Namjoon’s birthday, the three of you all separate to do different things. You stay inside, having some work stuff come up that you can't avoid. Seokjin decides to lounge on the deck of the villa you are staying in. It has stairs leading down straight onto the beach. There is a running path just off to the side and Namjoon decides to go see how much of the island he can cover (not much, but he does try).

When you finally finish up with work (you’re going to fight with Taehyung when you get back for directing the issue he could’ve easily fixed to you, knowing full well you are on vacation), you change into a bathing suit, throwing an oversized shirt (whether it’s Namjoon’s or Seokjin’s, you’ll never know) on over it and walk out onto the deck. 

You’ll never get over Seokjin without a shirt. 

He’s leaning over the balcony, in only shorts as his broad shoulders are on full display. The dimples in his back as well as the way his shoulder blades move when he shifts in place is enough to send shivers down your spine. 

You lean against the railing while standing next to him, staying quiet while he’s on the phone, having some sort of back and forth with who you assume is his manager. You’re quickly distracted by the beautiful blue waves rolling in to notice Seokjin repositioning to stand behind you, resting his chin on your head while he continues his phone call. 

“Yeah. I should be back in a few days and then I was hoping to stay in Seoul a few days before New York…but I guess that’s not happening?” 

You pout when he sighs, saying he understands and hanging up. The phone is tucked away in his back pocket while his arms snake around your waist. 

“Already have to go back to work?” 

He nods, moving down to rest his chin on your shoulder. 

“Unfortunately. They actually wanted me to come back tonight but I told him to fuck off.”

“No you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t. But I did politely say no and made a compromise to come back asap.” 

“You’re too nice to them.” You pout, watching a couple playing in the ocean waves, “They overwork you. I miss you. Namjoon misses you.”

“I miss you too, princess. I miss you and Joon every time I’m away.” 

“Wanna stay here forever.” It’s a soft mumble, but you know he hears it when he hums in agreement, turning his head to kiss your cheek. You turn your face to him, letting your lips meet in a slow, deep, kiss. 

Again, there’s nothing quite like kissing Seokjin. Namjoon is the love of your life and always will be, but there’s just something about Seokjin’s lips that you crave constantly. Something about the way he holds you both delicately and possessively. Or the way he looks at you after a kiss, like he’s just as lost in it as you are. Like he’s trying to figure out the answer to the question you’ve been asking since that weekend in the Swiss mountains. 

He uses his tongue to tease your lips apart, making you gasp through a moan as he turns you around to face him, hands gripping your waist. 

“Jinnie” you whine, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His lips trail down your jaw to that special spot between your neck and shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, y/n. We shouldn’t unless Namjoon’s around. But,” he leaves a small love bite on your shoulder, “you just have this effect on me. I can’t help it.”

You nod, moaning when you tug on his hair, making him suck harder on your skin. You’re going to be covered in bruises and hickies when you get home. You don’t care. 

“What’d I miss?” Namjoon’s voice breaks you two apart, but only barely. Seokjin’s lips place soft kisses on your cheek and forehead while you look at the man you love. 

“Jin told his manager to fuck off and wait until his vacation is over.”

“No he didn’t.”

“See?” You look at Seokjin, a playful smile and raised eyebrow, “you’re too nice.”

“I have to be. Or it ruins my reputation and makes me look like I’m difficult to work with.”

“But you are difficult to work with.”

“I take it back. I don’t miss you. I only miss Namjoon.” He jokingly shoves you away, stepping to move behind Namjoon, getting on his tiptoes to put his chin on the younger’s shoulder. “You’re too tall.” He grumbles, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s middle. 

Namjoon smirks, hands holding onto Seokjin’s forearms to keep him there. 

“Well, I still think you’re too nice. You guys have fun. I’m going to get in the water.” You laugh, heading down the steps to the beach. You hear snickers, turning back briefly to see Namjoon turning in Seokjin’s arms to face him. 

You look back towards the beach, allowing them privacy even though that word barely exists with you three. 

The water is perfect. It’s not cold like the Pacific Ocean, not weirdly warm like the Atlantic. It’s a perfect balance. 

You let your feet sink into the sand, the gentle waves slowly bringing you closer to the ocean as the sand keeps you still. 

You love it here. 

You love your job, love your life, love your friends, family, and your boyfriend. 

But here? With not only your boyfriend but the man you crushed on for years that you now have the privilege to be with along with your boyfriend? For two whole weeks? 

That’s heaven.

It’s felt right these two weeks with them. Any time it’s been just you and Namjoon, it’s been perfect as usual, but it always feels like something is missing. 

Or rather someone.

You’re not sure how long you’re out here, staring at the horizon. The sand is halfway up your calves and the waves are hitting your upper thighs by the time two large arms wrap around your middle, body draping over your back as lips find refuge on your neck. 

You smile, sighing as you relax in his hold, tilting your head to the opposite side so he has better access. 

“Where’s my Jagi right now?” Namjoon’s voice barely breaks above the waves, only enough because it’s right by your ear. 

“Thinking.” 

“About?” His nose nudges under your ear. 

“Us.” You pause when you feel him tense, “us and Jin.”

“What about us and Jin?” His body relaxes, but barely. You use his hold on you as support as you pull your feet from the sand, both of you stepping a little further from the ocean when you turn to face him. 

“What is this to you, Joon?” Your arms snake around his neck, fingers dancing through his hair there. “Or rather, what is Jin? I know last year he was my present or whatever, but…that was nine months ago. And after all the texts with photos and videos and the times we’ve been with him…I don’t know. I need some sort of understanding before this gets too much.”

Namjoon’s eyes stay steady on you the entire time, the hands sitting on your waist, holding you gently, yet firm enough to keep you still. His thumbs rubbing circles through the shirt. 

“Too much, how?” Is all he asks. 

“I…I don’t know. Too much like he’s part of this? Too much like my crush from before you comes back and causes issues?”

“How would that cause issues, Jagi?”

“I don’t want to choose…”

“Baby,” Namjoon smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “there is nothing to choose. I’m yours forever and if you want him, too…as long as he wants you back…I’m pretty sure I’ve done nothing but show you I’m very okay with sharing you.”

“That’s nice and all and I love you for that,” you pull away from him just slightly, forcing him to look at you again, “but what about you? What is this to you? It can’t just be me with two boyfriends. I mean, it can. But…what about you and Jin?”

And that’s where his confidence falters, for just a moment, you see it in his eyes and the way his lips twitch. 

He comes up with nothing when his mouth opens to speak, face contorting almost into confusion. 

“Joon? You okay?”

“Yeah…I just…” you let him pause, finding the right words as his eyes flit behind you to the crashing waves. It’s hard to bite back the smile when you try to soothe whatever worries he seems to have by massaging his nape. His eyes close momentarily before opening again, landing on your own. 

“I don’t know yet. But…I think there’s something…between him and I, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, eyes back on the ocean, “I just don’t know what exactly it is. If it’s just because of you or if it’s something else entirely? It’s confusing.”

“It’s okay, Joon. You don’t need to figure anything out right this second, but we should all sit down and figure this out at some point…maybe not tomorrow, though.”

“Why not tomorrow?” His head tilts to the side, looking back at you. 

“Your birthday? The whole reason we went on this trip?”

It takes two seconds of silence before he starts fully laughing, having to back away from you to bend over.

“I’ll be one hundred percent honest, I totally forgot.”

…

“You can’t be serious.”

“I was just treating it like a vacation with my best friend and my girlfriend.”

“Oh my god, Kim Namjoon. You’re an actual goober!” You playfully smack his shoulder, laughing with him. He takes the perfect opportunity to launch himself at you, bending slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You both laugh as your legs wrap around his waist, arms around his shoulders again. 

It’s a playful series of events, he threatens to lean forward, dumping you into the waves, you returning the threat with your own of no skin contact for a month, and just all around cuteness between you both that you’d be lying if you said wasn’t one of your favorite things about him. He’s so serious at work, so serious in most social situations. Except for with you, where he can be himself; laughing, dancing badly, making really terrible dad jokes, and just being your Namjoon. 

That night, the three of you are all dressed up for dinner reservations Seokjin made at the five star restaurant at the resort you’re staying at. 

Both men go for formal casual; slacks, a tucked in button up shirt, leaving the first three buttons undone for an added we’re on vacation and gorgeous models look that Seokjin will not shut up about. 

You dress up in a little black mini dress. It isn't too short to be informal, but just short enough that Namjoon’s hands stay on your thigh during dinner and Seokjin playfully grabs at your ass when you are waiting to be seated. 

Seokjin has the staff come sing happy birthday to Namjoon, the man’s face turning the deepest shades of embarrassment until the staff leave. 

Two bottles of expensive wine and a delicious meal later, the three of you are walking lazily down the pathway back to the villa. Seokjin directly behind you, his hands wandering your body as he kept you against his chest.

Mumbles of your nickname are pressed against your neck as he kisses and licks the skin there, not caring about where you are walking. 

With your head tilted to give him more access, your hazy eyes find your boyfriend a few feet away, holding onto the jacket you thought you might need, as well as your purse and heels you ditched at one point. He’s smiling his I’m tipsy grin, dimples peeking through as he watches his best friend cling to you. 

When you step past the front door of the villa, your body is quickly turned, back pressed up against the wall as Seokjin lifts your legs around his waist to bruise your neck some more. 

Your moans are cut off by your boyfriend’s words. 

“Hyung.” Seokjin quickly removes his lips from your skin. Head turning to look at his friend. “Bed.” Is all he says, tossing your stuff on the couch on the way to the bedroom. Seokjin smirks, tightening his hold on you as he pulls off the wall and heading to the bedroom with you in his arms. 

Namjoon is already standing by the foot of the bed, shirt pulled out of the waistband of the slacks that are unbuttoned, but still sitting on his hips. There’s a very prominent bulge peeking through the pants and it’s amazing how nervous it still makes you after all these years. 

There’s a silent exchange between the two men as Seokjin lays you down on the bed, letting you scoot back towards the headboard as he crawls over you. His mouth is on your neck again, wet lips marking anywhere he can. 

A free hand feels its way down your body, long fingers heading straight to your clothed center. He pushes a finger against your entrance, the fabric gathering up the arousal. 

You both let out a curse, your hips rolling up to meet his hand, trying so hard to get his finger to fully enter you. But it doesn’t, he teases you repeatedly, gathering more slick against your underwear until your boyfriend’s voice off to the side tells him to stop.

It’s almost like deja vu the way Seokjin pulls your underwear off, and hands it directly to Namjoon, who’s sitting in a chair next to the bed, cock already in his hand.

Your eyes stay on the way the underwear slides against his erection, the amount of arousal on the fabric mixing with his own. 

But his eyes? His eyes are on Seokjin. The way his fingers dig into your flesh as they roam your body. 

No. Not again. 

“Jin, off.” You whisper it, having to repeat it a little louder when he ignores you in favor of kissing your jaw. 

“You okay?” His whisper is panicked, hands leaving your skin to hold himself above you by placing them on either side of you on the bed. 

“Yeah,” you nod quickly, “just…the birthday boy.” Your eyes find Seokjin’s and you don’t know when it happened, but somehow you two developed a similar mind. He nods, kissing your nose and rolling off you to sit at the head of the bed, lightly palming himself. 

You grin, crawling off the bed, making sure Seokjin has a perfect view of your soaked center sans underwear. 

“Joonie, join us.” You stand in front of him at his chair, light fingers taking the underwear away from his cock. 

“I’m okay here, baby. Get back to hyung.”

You shake your head, and he doesn’t hesitate to help you when you straddle his lap, his cock teasing your clit as you settle down. 

“Come.”

“That’s my line.” 

You roll your eyes at his beautiful dimples, leaning down to kiss each one. 

“It’s your birthday, Joonie. Let us take care of you.” 

“It’s not my birthday yet.”

“As of seven minutes ago, it is officially your birthday, Kim Namjoon.” Seokjin’s voice comes from the bed, phone in hand with a shit eating grin on his face. You grin as well, looking back at your boyfriend. 

“See? It’s your day, baby.” You coo, brushing his hair back. “What would you like for your birthday?” 

“What are you doing?” He questions, eyes trying to decipher your smile. 

“I just want my Joonie to be happy and properly taken care of.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Now, be good and get on the bed.”

“Oh, you’re telling me what to do now?”

You hum, nodding as you stand up between his legs, holding your hands out for him, palms up. He gives you a look before looking over at Seokjin and smiles nervously, taking your hands and standing with you. 

You back up to the bed, pulling him with you with a smile. You only let go to tug the slacks and briefs off the rest of the way.  

“Sit next to Jin.” You quietly command, letting him move past you to get on the bed, sitting next to Seokjin, who at some point pulled all his clothes off except his underwear. 

Still in your dress, you crawl back onto the bed, a smirk forming when it appears Namjoon knows exactly what you’re doing and spreads his legs just slightly. Just enough to let you get comfortable on your stomach and your arms resting on his thighs. 

“Happy birthday, Joonie.” You grin, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a single pump, standing it up in front of you. Your lips sneak small kisses up and down his length, longer ones on his tip, before slowly easing his entire length down your throat. Holding him there in your mouth, a free hand cradles his balls in your palm, giving them a gentle massage that makes him groan, hands clutching your hair. 

“God, she’s too good at that.” Seokjin murmurs, your lips wrapped around Namjoon’s tip, tongue teasing at the slit that’s already oozing with precum. 

“I bet you’d do just— ah, fuck,” Namjoon’s head falls back, hitting the headboard as you take him down in one go without warning. “You’d do just fine, hyung.”

“Oh, I know I would. I’d do more than fine.” Seokjin’s quick to quip and you can’t help but smile internally, lifting your mouth off and away from your boyfriend’s cock. 

“Prove it.”

Both men stare at you, one turning a deep shade, the other almost laughing if not for the shock of the call out. 

“That’s not…” Seokjin stutters, still trying not to smile. 

“Not what? Joonie loves his cock sucked. You have amazing lips and your mouth is big enough, I’m sure you could take him all.”

“Baby.” Namjoon warns but you ignore the tone, looking at him with pleading eyes. 

“Jin needs to prove himself, Joon. Is it okay if he helps me with your cock?”

Namjoon’s eyes stay locked on yours. You can’t tell if he’s angry or nervous, but it’s enough to make you feel like submitting to whatever he wants, but also rebel against everything and anything he says. 

Not to mention, the shooting jolt of arousal you get from just that gaze is enough. 

It’s Seokjin’s voice that breaks through the staring contest. 

“I’ll be good, Joon. I promise.”

Namjoon’s eyes tear away from yours to Seokjin’s so fast, you think his neck would’ve snapped. 

You keep watching your boyfriend for any sort of negative reaction. 

But his eyes dance from eye to eye to lips, back to his eyes and next thing you know, Namjoon is nodding, sliding further down the bed to give you both access. 

You share a look with Seokjin, both ending in a grin as you take place on the bed between Namjoon’s legs. Your boyfriend is muttering something quietly to himself, his arm thrown over his face. 

You give Seokjin’s cheek a kiss, a hand pressing soothing circles into Namjoon’s thigh. Seokjin reaches out for Namjoon’s cock, almost mimicking your actions from moments ago. You watch in awe as his lips prove to be perfect for this activity, his mouth wide enough to take Namjoon down without a problem. 

“Fuck, so fucking good.” Namjoon mutters, biting his forearm. You can’t fight the smirk when you and Seokjin dive in at the same time, licking and kissing along his shaft and tip, both taking turns with his balls. 

Namjoon is going insane, fighting the urges to either force both of you closer to his cock until he’s coming across both of your faces, or to fill Seokjin’s mouth with himself until Seokjin’s crying and coming down his throat. He so desperately wants to regain control, but if this is what happens when he doesn’t have control?

Fuck that. No better time to give it all up than right now. 

“Fuck, okay you have to stop or I’m going to explode.”

You look away from Seokjin’s swollen lips around Namjoon’s tip to look back at your boyfriend, who has his eyes on the ceiling, afraid to look down at the two of you for it might make him come. 

“That’s not how you ask.” 

“Baby.” There’s that warning tone again. 

“Joonie.” You mock the tone, Seokjin pulls off, giving his tip one last lick. 

“Tell him, princess.”

You grin, wrapping your hand around Namjoon’s shaft, pumping hellishly slow. 

“Come on, Joonie. Be good for us. Ask correctly.”

It takes a few more pumps, Seokjin next to you, kissing your shoulder, before Namjoon lets out a deep whine, voice cracking when he finally speaks. 

“Please stop. I need you to stop before I come. Please, baby.”

“I like that word coming from those lips,” Seokjin giggles, “no offense, princess. It’s just hotter.”

“None taken. I agree a hundred percent.” 

“You two are the worst.” Namjoon’s muffled words send you both into a giggle fit, giving one another a small high five. 

“It’s what we strive to be, Joon.” Seokjin nods in agreement, arms wrapping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

“Now, since you clearly need a minute, how about I take care of the princess for a moment?” Seokjin’s lips trail up your neck to your jaw and finally seal your lips with his. He tastes like Namjoon, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you want to come right then and there.

Namjoon nods, muttering approval before you’re yoinked away from your boyfriend, giggling when you’re pulled on top of Seokjin. It’s a fumble getting his briefs off as well as your dress, but you manage to do it, out of breath from laughing too much at the end. 

You sit up, your mind in a blissful happiness you can’t describe at the sight of both men on the bed. 

“I’m too lucky.” You whisper, using one hand to steady yourself over Seokjin’s hips, the other wrapping around his cock, giving it a few pumps to coat it with his own precum. His hands find your hips, holding tightly as you align him with your center, sinking down until he’s fully inside. 

“Shit,” you curse, loving the stretch while you slowly lift your hips, circling them at the same time. 

“Come on, princess. Show me what you can do.” Seokjin coos, giving your ass a light spank to encourage you to move. You scoff, grabbing the hand on your ass to hold it there as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him. 

Seokjin’s cock is perfection, honestly. Or as close to it as one can get. Namjoon’s is too. But goddamn Kim Seokjin’s dick can make you see stars. 

Neither of you notice Namjoon getting on his knees to crawl to you, grabbing your face and kissing you like he’s never kissed you before. 

It’s hunger, lust, love, vulnerability, and just everything kissing should be with the one you love. 

You melt into him, your pace slowing again on Seokjin’s hips, your hands reaching to hold your boyfriend’s face. 

It’s not enough. 

“Joonie,” you breathe against his lips, your hips stilling, “I need you.”

“Wait until hyung’s done, baby.”

You shake your head almost too fast, pushing him back a bit. You gesture to Seokjin to fully lay down, laying across his torso, lifting your ass up as if you’re presenting yourself to him. 

“Both, Joonie. Want you both.” You moan against Seokjin’s collarbone, your hips rolling against his own, keeping his cock inside you. 

There’s a breath of a curse and your princess nickname under you, his hands holding your waist as you still. 

“Jagi,” Namjoon chokes in his next breath, eyes focused on your stretched cunt swallowing Seokjin whole, “are you sure?”

“Yes. I need it, baby. Wanna feel you both.”

“You’re not nearly stretched enough.”

“I’m fine. Please.” 

“If she says she’s fine, she’s fine, Joon. Please hurry up.” Seokjin tries to joke, but his jest is cut off by a groan when you lift your hips and slam them back down for some kind of friction. “Princess, behave. I’m trying to help you.”

“Both.” You whimper desperately. “Need you both.”

“Listen to her, Joonie,” Seokjin teases, spreading his legs some, “she needs us. You gave control. Do as she says.” 

“I did not give her control.”

“Joonie.” You cry with another roll of your hips. 

“Shit, Jagi. Okay.” His voice is rushed as he gets in his knees between Seokjin’s legs. 

“He’s so whipped for you, princess.”

You giggle softly into Seokjin’s neck. The three of you have to maneuver around just a little for the right angle, but you finally feel the tip of your boyfriend’s cock along your inner thigh.

You clench at the sensation, quietly apologizing to Seokjin when he gasps. 

“Relax, princess. You have to relax if you want us both.”

“I do. I do, I do.  Want you both.” 

“Kiss me.” Those two words have your head spinning as you lift it to melt your lips to his. 

In the back of your mind, you know what he’s doing. He’s distracting you, giving you something else to focus on and relax. And goddamn does it work. You get so lost in the feeling of his lips, the way his tongue dances with yours, and matching your breathing to his, that you barely notice Namjoon pressing inside of you, cock sliding against Seokjin’s. Not until Seokjin lets out a guttural groan at the pressure. 

Then you feel it.

How full you feel. 

Both men inside you. 

How it should be. 

No choices. No turns. Just together. The three of you. 

The stretch is intense. Borderline painful. But you’re so aroused from just the fact that both the men you love so much are inside you at the same time, that the pain lessens quickly. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Namjoon’s voice echoes against your ear. 

You try to hold yourself up to lean into him, but feel your arms giving out. As if he knows what is happening, because of course he knows, an arm snakes its way around your middle, holding you up against him, allowing you to focus on the feeling of them. 

“Full.” You mutter, hand reaching behind you to run your fingers through Namjoon’s hair. “So full. ‘Sokay though, you can move.” 

His lips press against your ear, then your neck, ending on your shoulder as he gives Seokjin a look before they both nod, alternating their thrusts. Every time Namjoon pulls back, Seokjin pushes further in and vice versa. 

It feels too fucking good. But you can’t do it yet. You can’t come yet. You need the feeling to last longer. You try to prolong the feeling, rolling your hips to meet with Namjoon’s thrust, clenching around him as you do so. 

You shouldn’t have done that. 

Instead of prolonging it, it just forces your orgasm. Your sensitive clit rubs just the right way against Seokjin’s pelvis, making you cry out in complete euphoria. 

“Oh, fuck!” Namjoon’s voice cracks behind you, hips stuttering before pressing flush against you. 

You can feel his cum pooling inside of you, spreading around with your own arousal as Seokjin’s thrusts continue, encouraging Namjoon to keep coming until they both have to pull out from you and Namjoon becoming oversensitive. 

Namjoon falls back from his sitting position on his knees to on his ass, hands holding him up behind him. You roll off Seokjin, eyes shut as you breathe heavily. Your body can’t decide between closing your legs to keep Namjoon’s cum inside and keeping your legs open because of the soreness and sensitivity. 

It takes a few seconds before you hear a body shuffling on the bed and a gasp from beside you. 

“What are you doing?!” Seokjin whisper-shouts. Your eyes fly open as you turn to look at the gorgeous sight beside you. 

Seokjin is still lying down, legs spread. But he’s looking down between them where Namjoon has settled on his stomach, hand cautiously wrapped around Seokjin’s still hardened erection. 

“You haven't come yet.” Namjoon states. 

“So, what? You’re gonna jerk me?”

“No? I was gonna try…sucking.”

You and Seokjin both snicker at the same time, much to Namjoon’s annoyance. 

“Oh. I can’t decide if that was adorable or fucking hot.” Seokjin cackles, a hand holding Namjoon’s face gently. Namjoon tries swatting the hand away, losing very quickly when you’re suddenly laying on your stomach as well, but near Seokjin’s side. 

“It was both. One hundred percent, it was both.” You kiss the cheek not being cradled. “Want some help?”

It’s the way he nods so nervously that makes your heart burst. You grin, settling in closer. 

“Well, you’ve seen me do it a million times. Use the lips, avoid teeth, the balls are fun, always kiss the tip, know your limits.” You give the instruction fairly easily, trying not to giggle at his anxiousness. “You’ll be okay, Joonie. And if you don’t like it, you can stop at any time.” 

“I’d rather he didn’t, though.” 

“Jin.” You warn, glaring at the handsome idiot. 

“Don’t Jin me! You both came already! I’m dying here!”

Namjoon snorts, not hesitating or giving any warning when he leans forward to kiss Seokjin’s tip. 

“Oh— fuck.” Seokjin’s hand leaves Namjoon’s face, hitting the mattress by his thigh, and taking a deep breath when Namjoon slowly wraps his lips around the head, tongue dancing along the slit. 

You watch in awe, giving words of encouragement as Namjoon lowers his mouth further down Seokjin’s cock, trying his best to take as much as he can. His hand cradles his balls, massaging them gently, but giving a small tug every now and again. 

“You’re doing so good, Joonie.” You praise over and over, running your hand through his hair, “make him come, baby. Make him lose control the way you do to me.” 

Namjoon finally hits his gag reflex, coughing slightly around Seokjin. His eyes lift to find Seokjin’s head leaning back, hand hitting the mattress again, fingers digging into the blanket. 

“Careful.” Your eyes widen slightly, resisting the urge to pull him off. If Namjoon wants to stop, he’ll stop. 

Also the sight and sounds are way too erotic to want to stop him. 

Seokjin’s head snaps forward at the feeling of Namjoon’s free hand pulling the hand tangled in the sheets, placing the hand in his hair. 

Their eyes meet. 

Seokjin smiles, his fingers tangling in Namjoon’s hair as the younger’s head lifts to wrap around the tip, tongue teasing it. 

“Goddamn, Joonie, that’s fucking perfect.” Seokjin lets out a light laugh, almost in disbelief at what’s happening. His hand slowly presses his head down, making Namjoon take more of him until it hits the back of his throat again. 

You honestly don’t know what to do yourself. Do you touch them? Join in? Say something? Encourage them to continue? Honestly, you’d rather just sit back and enjoy the visual of your boyfriend and best friend enjoying one another.

You do, however, find yourself rolling your hips against a blanket, soaked center making it perfect for your clit to glide along as you watch. 

And of course, Namjoon knows what you’re doing, even with his best friend’s dick down his throat. The free hand that had Seokjin’s trades with the one cradling his balls, quickly pulling the blanket away from you. You whine in protest, but his hand quickly finds its way between your legs, long fingers collecting up arousal and cum to spread around your clit. 

Your hips buck up closer to his hand, whimpering when a finger finds its way past your entrance, pumping you in perfect timing with the way he bobs his head. 

You know exactly what the fuck he’s doing. 

It takes barely a few minutes of the synchronized bobbing and pumping until Seokjin is almost in tears, moaning loudly as he comes down Namjoon’s throat at the same time your hips lose any and all sense of rhythm, coming around Namjoon’s fingers as you hug Seokjin’s thigh.  

Your come down is broken through when you hear Seokjin mutter come here and both hands grab at Namjoon, pulling him up his body to kiss him. 

To actually kiss him. 

Seokjin kissing Namjoon. 

After Seokjin just came down Namjoon’s throat. 

And Namjoon is kissing him back, open mouth, tongues tangling together. 

This is the fucking dream. 

You mutter a soft curse, lazily grinning at the sight. Seokjin seems to be the only one who hears you, pulling away from Namjoon’s lips with a grin. 

“Happy birthday, Joonie.” Seokjin gives another peck on the lips. Namjoon sighs into the quick kiss, lips faintly chasing the other’s. 

“You finally got your kiss, Jin.” You tease, the three of you giggling together. You scoot back a little bit, letting Namjoon get off Seokjin, laying between you both. 

“Finally.” He laughs as you throw your leg over Namjoon’s right leg, head ducking under his arm to rest on his chest. Seokjin is quick to mimic the position on the opposite side of Namjoon, who seems too blissfully out of it to care about the teasing. 

It’s silent for a moment, but your brain won’t shut up.

And of course, Namjoon knows. 

“So should we have that talk now?” Namjoon’s words are quiet against the silence of the three of you in the afterglow moments. Both you and Seokjin make questioning noises, prompting you to look up. 

“What talk?”

“Jagi…wanna tell him?”

Your eyes widen in a small panic, but Namjoon’s fingers dance along your spine reassuringly. 

You can do this. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. 

“Uh, Jin. I don’t want this to be…like Namjoon and myself in a relationship with you as a bonus. I want the three of us to be…”

“A throuple?” Seokjin’s quick to catch on. Namjoon smiles, eyes shut. 

“If you want. Clearly, you and Joon have something. You and I have something. Obviously Joon and I have something…”

“I’d be happy to be a boyfriend to you both.”

You can feel Namjoon’s heart pounding under your cheek, your own heart doing the same. 

“Yeah? Officially?” You just know the way you’re grinning looks like a child told they’re going to Disneyland, and you don’t fucking care. This is so much better. 

“As long as this guy wants it,” his head jerks up to the man lying between you both, arms wrapped around both of you. He’s got a smug smile with his beautiful puffy lips.

“I do.” Namjoon confirms with a sigh, “dunno how I’m gonna deal with both of you when you’re being brats, but…”

“We are never brats.”

“Yeah!” Seokjin lightly hits Namjoon’s stomach, “maybe it’s just that you are a strict spoilsport. Ever think about that?”

“You’re literally being a brat right now.” Namjoon’s monotone voice cracks with just a hint of amusement. You stay silent, curling up closer to Namjoon as they continue to bicker with a smile. 

“Wow. Day one of our relationship, and you’re already being so rude. Do you even know who I am? How lucky you are?” 

You bite back the laugh, letting yourself fall asleep to the voices of your two boyfriends. 

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of screaming. But not from either of the men you fell asleep with. 

“Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! We’ll just…we’ll be out here! Yoongi, come on!” You know that voice. Why is that voice in Greece?

Oh fuck. 

Once the bedroom door closes, you sit up quickly, your head spinning from the sudden position change as you wrap the blanket around your top half. You leap out of bed, trying to find clothes. 

“Y/N? Care to explain?” Namjoon’s voice is higher than normal, still sitting upright in the bed. 

Fuck. 

“This was the wrong way to surprise you.” You throw some shorts, a tank top, some underwear and a bra onto the bed, quickly getting rid of the blanket to change. 

“I was supposed to wake up early and let them in and we’d make breakfast and it’d be a whole big birthday thing. But then we…last night…and I just…forgot.”

“You forgot Yoongi and Jimin were going to be joining us in Greece?” 

“Don’t even start!” You button the shorts around your waist, throwing the tank top on after. “You forgot your own birthday!” 

“He forgot his birthday?” Seokjin makes his appearance from the bathroom, looking as disheveled as you do in his haste to put on clothes. He sits on the bed, toothbrush in his mouth. The only one still naked is Namjoon, who just has a blanket covering his bottom half. 

“For like a moment.” The birthday boy shrugs. You cut him off before he can continue. 

“Whatever. Jin and I will go set things up. You put some pants on and laze about or something, you birthday grump.”

“Not a birthday grump.”

“I thought you’d be happy with your friends out here with us.”

“I am, Jagi. I am and I love you for it. But they just saw both of my partners naked in bed with me and you know I don’t like others seeing what’s mine.”

You have to remind yourself that Yoongi and Jimin are just outside the door. You cannot tease your boyfriend into fucking you right now. 

“Joonie. They’re together. They don’t care about what they see. Yoongi and I are like siblings.”

“He’s still possessive.” Seokjin shrugs, returning to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. You swap places with him, quickly brushing your teeth and trying not to look like a complete mess. 

Namjoon’s at the door when you leave the bathroom, pants on but no shirt. 

Damn him. 

You pout. But not for the reason he thinks. 

“Thank you for inviting Yoongi and Jimin out here for my birthday, baby.” His voice is softer, hands reaching for your waist. 

“I just wanted it to be a fun birthday.” 

“It’s been a great birthday so far. I’m sure it’ll get even better. Thank you.” He presses his lips to yours, lips tugging into a smile when you melt against him. When he just barely pulls away, he mumbles “I love you, Jagi.” 

“I love you, too.” You sigh against his lips. The sound of something moving on the bed pulls you away, making you laugh when Seokjin appears by you. 

“Excuse me, I paid for their flights. Where’s my thank you kiss?” 

“Shut up, hyung.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing Seokjin by the back of the neck and cutting off any sassy responses with a kiss. Seokjin melts into him just like you did, but pushes away after a second. 

“Brush your teeth, stinky. You taste like last night. Let’s go, princess.”

Seokjin’s hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the bedroom and into the living room where the two wait. 

“So…” Yoongi’s voice trails, eyes set directly on your joined hands. 

“What’s going on with you three?” Jimin completes the question for Yoongi, who’s sitting on the couch with him, legs crossed and foot tapping the air. 

“We’re uh…together.”

“Did you and Joon break up?”

“Nope.”

“We’re all together now. The three of us.” Seokjin explains further for you. 

Both boys sit there, Jimin with an amused, almost shocked expression, and Yoongi of course stone faced. It’s silent until Yoongi finally smiles. 

“You’re welcome.” Is all he says, standing up from the couch and heading to the kitchen 

“I said it wouldn’t happen. Yoongi said otherwise.” Jimin giggles, bouncing up. “Okay, let’s go make the birthday boy some food!” 

“Nope. You’re banned from kitchens, remember?” Yoongi grabs both of Jimin’s wrists before he can reach for any utensil.

“Minnie, help me decorate and let the old men cook.” You call out, ignoring the shocked gasp from your boyfriend. 

Jimin sighs, joining you, the other banned one, to help decorate. 

Namjoon joins half an hour later, trying to help you and Jimin decorate, only to be banned after he pops a confetti balloon. He tries to help in the kitchen, but Yoongi goes off on him when he tries to cut a vegetable incorrectly. 

“I thought you’re supposed to be nice and loving to people on their birthday.” He grumbles from the couch. 

Jimin has taken over the decorations, his interior design skills coming in handy to make it look perfect. You are settled on the couch next to Namjoon, curling up in his arms. 

“You’re also not supposed to help with your birthday party, silly.” You both laugh, watching the ridiculousness going on in this villa in Greece of all places. 

“Thank you again, baby.” Namjoon whispers against your temple, a kiss following after, “This has been an amazing trip.”

“Of course, Joonie. And thank you for being the man I love. Happy birthday.” You look up, smiling before your lips find his, and you feel whole. Jimin says something and Namjoon pulls away to respond. You take a second to look over at the kitchen. 

Yoongi’s ranting about how annoying grocery shopping is on the island, but Seokjin’s not paying attention. His eyes are on you and Namjoon, handsome face smiling ear to ear. 

You can’t help but smile back. 

You have the man you’ve loved for years and the man you know is your soulmate. You don’t need anything else.

#kvanity #kflixnet #wkcnet #btswritersclub #kelly writes #kelly posts #fic: swiss miss #fic: pieces of greece #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #namjoon #seokjin #knj #ksj #knj x reader #ksj x reader #bts smut #ksj smut #knj smut #bts fanfction

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks For the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Two

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 13.7k

Release date: Mon. February 5, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: Now aware of Seokjin's secret, you try to take some of his...techniques into your next stream. But how well will they pay off?

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, discussion of boundaries and triggers, Seokjin explains what bdsm is supposed to mean to us watching at home, internet/cyberbullying dynamics, boss/employee power struggles, discussions of consent, peer pressure, mention of threesome, implied chubby/fat reader (it's vague enough to not adopt a specific size), mention of sex toys, swearing, sexual fantasies, m masturbation, damn Seokjin has a boner so many times in this sorry, size kink, y/n assumes Seokjin's sexuality, porn simulation games, 1 (one) reference to Vine (RIP), Dom Seokjin, kink negotiation, mention of choking and improper bdsm practices, mention of urethral sounding (but not actually happening)

a/n: Ahh hello! First of all, thank you to everyone who has read TFTS so far! It really warms my heart knowing how well received it's been, and your comments and messaged have meant so much. I really wanted to emphasize discussions of consent and boundaries in this chapter. I was struggling to write for a little bit, and then suddenly I saw this one gif of Jin on my feed and my brain jimmy neutron brain blasted my way to a 13k length chapter. Hopefully I've proofread well enough, but if you spot some serious errors please let me know. -h

On Saturday afternoon, Seokjin woke up for the first time in what felt like forever feeling rested. After checking the weather app on his phone constantly throughout the night, he received the alert that heavy snowfall was causing delays in plowing and public transit. He messaged the opening crew, encouraging them to also enjoy the lie-in and prepare for a delayed open. Instead of falling into the semi-sickening lovefest of couples peeling each other’s perilla leaves or trying to feed each other lunch, he could be spared until the evening. 

Which was good, because Seokjin was exhausted. His live last night was not planned, but after closing and apologizing to you about his gross mismanagement of power, he needed to get out the pent-up frustration that crumbled the bones in his body from pressure. 

Sure, it was the right thing to do to apologize, even though he knew he would never be able to look at that prep counter, your wide, glassy eyes, and swollen lips the same way again. But it was important to him. He could never become the kind of man he watched his boss be to him or his wife, forcing his way past someone’s boundaries to get what they wanted. 

Even years later, Seokjin was convinced that had he not shared information about Soon Yi that intrigued his boss, if he’d maybe kept his personal and professional lives separate, things maybe would have been different. And now that he was in the position of power where he was someone else’s boss, wasn’t it his duty to make sure that didn’t happen to you too?

Seokjin almost lost all his control with you yesterday. From the moment you came in with a tired, croaky voice that greeted him “hi” before the sun had even come up, he knew he would be struggling for the rest of the day. 

During multiple points of your training, he had the urge to touch you, which was nearly impossible not to do, since so much of the guidance you needed came from hand-over-hand instruction as he showed you the fluid motions of safe chopping. When his large hands covered yours, Seokjin became aware of how tiny you were to him. Maybe not in all the places, but your height, your smaller hands, they showed him how easily and perfectly you slotted into his body, like a puzzle piece he didn’t know he could ever feel matched to. 

Maybe Seokjin executed this desire to touch you a little too dramatically. When he saw your misplaced cutting knife, he let that excuse lead him head-first into white hot desire, scolding you, watching you squirm a little as you felt embarrassed for losing focus. And that seemed to unlock some feral need in him, to get you to squirm a little more, to touch you and feel the velveteen softness of your forearms as he pinned you against the prep table. 

The little gasp you’d let out sent the blood straight to his cock, and to avoid you seeing how easy and embarrassingly you could undo him–how quickly one singular sound from you would make Seokjin rock hard and panting and under your complete power–he reacted, clasped your wrists, used some set of excuses to get closer, let his arm skim across your cheek to grab a packet of whatever the hell was above you. And the way you didn’t resist, didn’t pull away from his grasp showed him how good you could be, how obedient you were as you turned around when told. 

He should’ve stopped there, but you were standing in front of him, smelling a little bit like coffee and a fruity shampoo you used, your bodies only mere inches from full on contact. And Seokjin wanted more of a reason to hold onto you, to see what ways he could rile you up, whether you were cognizant or not of how, well, submissive you were to him. 

Most of his income from streams came from scenarios where Seokjin played into a softer role, which translated into the role of a submissive pretty boy, and usually a bottom. But for the first time in years, a rich, satisfying wave of dominance rolled back into his body and he welcomed it.

Seokjin knew better, but he couldn’t help himself. The one bit of control he maintained was in his refusal to let go of your hands, even after you had mastered the motions of your knife, possibly even better than Seokjin himself could chop. Because if Seokjin declawed himself from you, his hands would absolutely wander. Up the sleeve of your exposed forearms and down the swell of your breasts and full hips. 

His cock ached thinking about how plush and soft your body would be under his hands, how he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking you. He could safely grope your sides and not feel like he would pinch your bones together, and that was important, because Seokjin liked to be rough.

When that carrot fell, you couldn’t shake Seokjin’s desperate hands off yours and you carried him with you as you curved your body toward the floor to pick up your mess. Seokjin was blessed and cursed with the brief moment he got to touch more of you than he ever had as your ass rocked back and ground gently into him. 

He’d moaned, though he tried to disguise it as a grunt or scoff, but the way your delicious ass attracted him right in between the line of your cheeks practically begged him to rut against you. 

Your reaction of shock, though, halted him as he remembered you two were in the kitchen of his family’s restaurant. He scrambled to cover his dick before it became even more obvious and humiliating. 

And then you fell, because Seokjin was an idiot and forgot he had been holding onto you. 

The sound of your head crashing into the metal ricocheted through his ears, and your pained moan sent him spiraling in panic. He didn’t think. Seokjin wasn’t the best at remaining calm during potential medical emergencies, instead of electing to assess your wellbeing and check-in with you, he just reacted, plucking you off the floor and onto the counter.

You can’t manage a restaurant without carrying heavy sacks of rice or flour, cartons of vegetables or gallons of oils and liquids into the space. That, plus the fact that Seokjin did go to the gym to keep his figure, ensured that when he had to pull you up from the floor, he could do so with ease. Which thanks to his awful, overly enthusiastic libido, was really locking in some potential size kink. If Seokjin could hoist you onto the cold prep counter without breaking a sweat, it meant he could also hoist you onto other things, like his cock. Could bounce you up and down and see how those delicious, large tits would follow his pace.

Fuck. 

This was when Seokjin realized even though he was deeply, deeply interested in these fantasies, his reality was different. Because too easily he had dipped into some innate submissive part of you and decided to play with it and tease you for it. Too easily, he has erased any boundary between professional and personal, and now you are walking around with a giant bruise on your forehead. He used his power to manipulate you, didn’t he? While the tiniest part of him argued back, suggesting it was purely mutual attraction and biology, that he shouldn’t apologize because he swore he saw something in your eyes that almost guaranteed you wanted him too, this is why Seokjin had to apologize. The “almost” of it all. He wasn’t sure, which meant the uncertainty was a risk and just because he wanted something to be true didn’t mean it was. 

By the end of the day, the intense proximity to you and the memory of your lips parting to suck his tongue into your mouth had become too much. Seokjin turned on an impromptu stream to wallow in his self pity and direct that dominant energy into something that was far less harmful and at least lucrative. 

Now, as the winter’s dull afternoon light glowed through the city, Seokjin checked his phone, seeing that the evening crew leader had arrived and informed him that everything was covered and they wouldn’t need the extra help. 

With that update, Seokjin’s entire evening just became available, which was a rare thing for him since he moved up in his job role. But because of this, he was unsure what to do to pass the time. He cooked himself dinner, cleaned, and organized the jars in his refrigerator, needing to keep his hands busy to distract himself from thinking about you. 

His apartment looking immaculate and there no longer being anything else to clean, he finally fired up his computer to play games. Maybe this would serve as a proper distraction. His new PC was set to come early next week after being delayed by the snow. Despite Seokjin’s financial success since his start as a streamer, money to him was still something he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

After Worldwide Handsome took their cut from last night’s fifteen grand in earnings, he would be walking away with about ten thousand dollars. He would, albeit quietly, pour around seven thousand of those dollars into the restaurant, where the mom-and-pop feel of the small shop was starting to show its age.

Last week, he’d called a repairman to give him a quote about fixing a broken coil on one of the griddles. After a quick inspection, he was informed most of the unit was corroding, and it was time to seriously consider a replacement. Between that, the new register he ordered, and the walk-in freezer that was coughing its last breath, probably as we speak, Seokjin spent nearly forty grand in the last month with repairs and replacements to keep the shop running another day. 

His parents had insisted they’d pay for the expenses, but after the first few discoveries he’d made of the DIY wiring his father had tried in earnest to configure, Seokjin stopped alerting them to the updates he was making, hoping that distance, age, and some fairly similar looking appliances would allow for these changes to go undetected when they returned. He had seen what this place made. He’d seen his paycheck. There was no way in hell his father could afford an $18 to 25,000 walk-in freezer on their operating budget. 

Overall, Seokjin made plenty of money with streaming, but beyond some investments and his nice apartment, as well as a savings account to ensure he wasn’t completely destitute, he lived much below his means. When he hit goals during his streaming, it did really feel like he was winning big. To buy himself a new PC was something he knew he worked for.  

Just as he was browsing the new skins in the game store, he heard the familiar chime and his heartrate picked up. 

You were live. 

He hesitated. “No,” he said out loud to himself, his voice croaking after hours of not speaking. “Don’t even think about it.” 

He knew if he looked at you right now, all the distractions, the cleaning, the dedication to keeping himself busy, would be for nothing. It would be painful to look at you–probably all cozy with your hair pulled messily away from your face, your glasses hanging off your nose instead of your usual contacts–and not think about how merely hours ago he had your heat rubbed up against him. 

If he really wanted to torture himself, he would also think about how the casual, disheveled look you sported could have been something he woke up to this morning if he’d tried a little harder, the loose t-shirt you probably wore rising up while you slept next to him, exposing the soft tummy he knew hid under it. Maybe even one of your nipples would slip out, hard from the chill of the cold winter air bleeding into his apartment. 

But Seokjin wouldn’t torture himself. He knew better. When he exited his game, he definitely didn’t launch his web browser and go to your channel that was on his Favorites tab. And he definitely didn’t cup himself through his sweats as he watched you appear before him. 

If the idea of you in casual wear could make him this hard, the view of you now, as you sat on stream with a tight, low-cut top that showed the curve of your breasts and their delicious, lickable valley between them, could easily turn every part of him into stone. You did your makeup today. Let your hair delicately frame your face. You looked like you were logging on to lure your viewers to come to you like a siren. Seokjin wanted you to devour him. 

His cock twitched and he groaned. He was such a pervert. But whoever this Y/N was, she looked like she was ready to play some games, and not the kind that Seokjin was used to seeing on stream. 

“Well, hello,” you purred. Was this really happening? Who the fuck had possessed the wide-eyed, awkward gamer he was used to watching?

“I thought, given that it’s so close to Valentine's Day, and because I missed the stream last night, I would make it up to you.” 

Seokjin froze. How had he not known you were supposed to stream yesterday? He would’ve never let you stay so late. He shot you an apologetic text,and when he looked up from his phone, he saw some of the comments flooding into your feed:

Mingisaysrelax: Um…am I on the right website? 😏💦

MountainSan88:😳 

PizzaBoy97: You look really pretty 😍

MizzVyne: Is this allowed? IS THIS ALLOWED?

Seokjin watched as your chat exploded in response to your new look, clips being taken by the hundreds when you leaned down to adjust your seat and the tops of your breasts jiggled. Your mods seemed to be on top of things though, because as soon as he saw raunchy or hateful comments, they were swiftly being taken down. 

“I’m not going to read my comment section right now, but I assume you’re all a little shocked by my appearance. I don’t know, I was feeling a bit inspired by another streamer I watched last night when I got home from work. He had some really good ideas on um…stuff, and no I’m not going to share who he is because some of you will absolutely cyber bully him for being associated with me and he deserves better than that.” 

He. A pang of bitterness surged through Seokjin. It was laughable, really, how he was jealous because you were watching other male streamers when you got home from work, completely oblivious to how on another site he was jerking his aching cock to his viewers thanks to how worked up you made him. 

“But yeah, I’m going to switch up the stream in the second half, if you want to stick around and see.”

This really piqued his interest, pressing his palm down onto his erection to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

You frowned at your screen as you launched your game, some first person shooter that would hold your attention so you wouldn’t have to talk.

You opened your mouth to add something, but you were immediately dropped into your game, setting your jaw as you focused on the controls in front of you, occasionally panicking, key smashing so loud that it drowned out your squeals when you were knocked over and over again and needed a revive. 

Seokjin assumed whatever teammate who kept reviving you must’ve been a subscriber who was stream sniping…or reverse stream sniping? Stream assisting and reviving as you struggled your way through the game. 

Something really stuck with him as you played. Whoever this “mentor” was must have been well versed in the knowledge that on any streaming platform, sex sells, especially for women. Your new look was drawing in quite the crowd. He wasn’t sure he’d seen you have this many subs, points, or viewers while streaming before. It was like a switch flipped. 

He felt a tiny flutter of something like pride swell into his chest. You were becoming more confident every day he knew you, from your knife skills to school teaching to now streaming. 

“Oh shittttttt,” you groaned into your mic, ripping Seokjin away from his soft reverie and back into full on, desperate wanting. Maybe you were toeing the community guidelines with this stream, but that groan sounded almost pornographic coming out of your mouth, and any chance Seokjin had at trying to be respectful was long gone. 

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh you’re being a bad girl tonight I see,” he chuckled to himself.

Almost as if you heard him, you giggled back, biting your lip playfully. Fuck, what were you doing to him? Your chat seemed to be in a similar standing. 

As a result, One of the mods pinned an announcement to the top:

W0nW00: To maintain community guidelines and compliance, we are labeling this channel as 18+. We ask that you be respectful to Y/N and her moderators as we continue with this stream. If your account is set to under 18, you will be redirected in 2 minutes. 

Shit, all for a simple moan? 

You paused the game. “I’m going to go for a bio break. Be right back.” You set your break screen, and instead of the usual, cutesy graphic of a cherry blossom tree blowing in the wind that said “Spring Day Streams”, it was now a neon, vaporwave cityscape and said “Join Us For Spring Night Streams, An After Dark Experience”. 

Seokjin’s eyes wide, he finally released his cock from his sweats, and took himself in his hand. Oh, this was going to be good. 

Seokjin is a camboy.

That’s the only thought splitting through the headache you’ve had all morning. Is there such a thing as an orgasm hangover? Because if so, you’ve got one. If not, maybe you were concussed in the kitchen yesterday.

You’ve spent most of the day trying to clean up the mess of your apartment and frankly, your mental state. Seokjin spends his Friday nights Daddy domming his humble pool of viewers and making thousands of dollars doing so. To even think that sentence feels insane. 

And humiliating. Because attached to that sentence is the realization that Seokjin’s major success as a gay camboy means that he is absolutely not thinking about you the way you are of him, and the kiss you imposed on him at work was definitely not consensual after all, which when you think about it, is obvious based on how frantically he apologized and assigned himself at fault for what happened. He was trying in the most polite way to reject you. 

You’re an idiot. And despite all of it, the shame of your action isn’t what’s delivering the heavy punch; it’s the fact that your crush didn’t die the second you found out last night. If anything, you’ve been silently wallowing in your sadness since you woke up, your stupid heart not processing that there’s one significant reason for why you can’t have him. 

You try to trudge through the fog of it all, placing your newly cleaned toys back into their proper dust cases and compartments before returning them to the drawer next to your side table. You switch loads of laundry and drop the warm pile on your bed, grimacing at the idea of having to fold it all. 

You shouldn’t be disappointed. This is a stupid crush that was never meant to go this far. Not to this place where you aren’t just humiliated, but the loneliness that you often avoid feeling has been spilling through the cracks of your life all day. 

The laundry is the only thing that occupies one side of your bed. Never another body, his warmth, his weight existing as another living thing keeping your living thing company as you fold laundry or wash dishes. 

No, you shouldn’t have projected this crush or obsession or whatever you want to call it onto Seokjin, but in these months of conversation and blooming friendship, you’ve found your mind beginning to wander into the fantasy of not just sex, but safety and connection. He’s a man who has always treated you with the utmost respect, even now in how he has maintained a boundary that gently rejects you, even if it’s confusing. 

Before his promotion at the restaurant, there was collaboration that fostered your trust in him; your bodies started working around each other like dancers, fusing your movements with a natural flow. You’d seen some of that pop up throughout the day yesterday, which you couldn’t help but feel like delivered a bit of hope in your stomach. 

You know it’s useless to continue hoping that something will change. Maybe he’s bi, you’ve thought a few times since you went to bed. He did call everyone a good girl. But, don’t some guys call each other girls as some kind of kink? But even hoping for that still feels wrong in your gut. Instead of wishing he just so happens to like pussy, you should be redirecting yourself from the fact that it doesn’t even matter. He said so himself, he’s your boss. 

“Ugh,” you groan into your unfolded laundry. Why can’t anything ever be easy? 

You shove the clothing pile to one side of your bed as you lie down, staring up at the ceiling, your eyes following the soft pattern of cracks that have begun to appear through the paint. You already know that going back to work on Monday will be awful, not just because this crush won’t crush itself, but because you clearly now know more about Seokjin than he perhaps ever wanted you to know. Won’t it be awkward trying to talk to him? And if he asks why you’re being so weird, what will you even say?

Sorry Seokjin, I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore because I spent Friday cumming while watching you on your gay cam show as you stroked your huge dick and admittedly once I saw your face connected to your dick I had the best orgasm of my life that rendered me useless the next day.

Perfect. This won’t be absolute hell at all. 

Your stream alarm rings on your phone. You sigh. That’s right. You promised a makeup stream to your followers. 

How did Seokjin stream so confidently? Last night, the way he just exuded dominance and control, how he managed to get so much money from sitting there and making his chat do the work? It’s not only impressive but also inspiring. If you were able to have that distance from your chat, maybe things would be a bit easier, and the questions that were so personal and directed would fade into the background while ones of adoration and impersonal fantasies could take their place. 

And the money, god. If you had money like that, you wouldn’t have a stack of financial aid forms sitting on your dresser right now waiting for you to basically jump through hoops to ask nicely for a loan. 

The way he was able to be so different and make money off of it? That feels promising to you too. Because whoever Daddy Dom Seokjin is, he isn’t just walking around in the world being “on” all the time. You know him as someone whose ears flush with embarrassment the second one of the delivery guys tells him he made an error with the order and tries to diffuse the tension with some free snacks; who often hums game scores and whose laugh sounds like a squeaky windshield wiper swiping across dried glass. 

What if you could be more like that? 

Not Daddy Dom or Mommy Y/N, but more casual and detached? You could stop reading your chat and answering questions. Or if you did want to play into some of Seokjin’s sex appeal, you could dress slightly more suggestively or do your hair and makeup to exploit the male gaze’s money a bit, just like how Seokjin did. 

In this world of streaming, where everything feels like fractured versions of reality, parts of you being split among the pixels and delivered and digested into someone else’s home for their entertainment and pleasure, it’s hard for you to ever feel like you can have some close community with your followers. Not like Wonwoo does with his. Because of your start and how people perceive you now, there just doesn’t seem to be a way for you to have intimacy. Even if you tried, your chat flies by so quickly now that unless it’s a notification from a mod, any usernames and personal anecdotes are lost before you can even know who’s who. 

You think about it for a bit. It can’t hurt to try, right? It’s not like you being a little less reserved would automatically launch you into a career in porn. And if it will help bring a little more income in, lessen the blow a tiny bit, you can’t really see why it would make sense to keep doing things this way when you are this miserable by the idea of it. 

Spring Day Streams holds a standard image that is pink and soft, and you know some people love watching you because you’re hitting some fantasy they have. The woman who looks like an angel but swears like a sailor and as stereotypes often assume, fucks like a demon. 

What could “fuck like a demon” look like on an often all ages game streaming platform, though? Well, not all ages. Some streams are only accessible to registered users over the age of 18. Usually the age filter is there because the game is super graphic, or the streamer is a sex educator or swears so much the algorithm has started penalizing them. A few times though, you’ve seen some streamers playing games that are so raunchy they’re basically porn. And porn versions of those games exist, but to keep some of them streamer-friendly, they also sell versions that don’t have uncensored anime girls receiving creampies. That would definitely maintain the brand without going too far, right? 

You open your phone, typing in some of the titles of games, mostly dating simulators you’ve seen other streamers play before, and then you stumble across one called MiCamStudio, a puzzle game with the plot where you’re the manager of a camgirl enterprise and your goal is to become the most successful, richest entrepreneur while keeping your girls happy. 

You laugh. It feels a bit on the nose, but a fun way to shake things up in an after-dark concept. And it’s not too expensive, which means if this entire plan bombs, you won’t have invested much into it. Fine, you’ll do it. 

Wonwoo responds right away after you shoot a quick message with your idea to your mods on discord to help them prepare. 

On it. 

With a deep breath, you start to get ready. 

As you brace yourself to come back from your short bio break and announcement, your heart is hammering in your ears. What if everyone left? What if things get weird or gross or you think you’re being kind of sexy and cute but are really just being an idiot? 

Suddenly, this entire idea seems so stupid. What if your mom decides this is finally the time she wants to watch you stream? She hasn’t ever had the interest to, but what if she finally thinks to herself on a random Saturday night in February, “Wow, I sure do crave watching some video game streams! Say, I know my daughter Y/N streams. I should check it out!” or worse, what if someone she knows sends one of the clips or a screenshot of you with your tits practically out? 

Your anxiety is starting to win in this battle, and as you pace back and forth in front of your computer, shaking your clammy hands and trying to remember how to breathe, you see the number of viewers has dropped since the stream moved from all ages to 18+. Which means that you can now read your chat again. 

The comments are actually really supportive. Among them are some of your mods cheering you on, but one username anchors you back into your chair as you watch the notification dance across the screen. 

JokeJinSeokjin has subscribed for 3x months!

Seokjin. Seokjin is live and watching you. Which you expect to be the thing that will throw you over the edge. Seokjin, your boss. Your kind of friend. Your crush. The man who you are trying to emulate in this attempt to be sexy and earn more money and confidence. 

Surprisingly, a warm glow of comfort settles in you stomach instead. Because while maybe in all of this mess there’s plenty to be anxious about, you feel a part of you that’s determined to make him proud, to show him in this rejection what he’s missing out on. You take a deep breath to steady yourself as you hit the button to come back. 

“Ah, hello! I mean-um, hello,” you catch the nervousness pouring out of your shaky voice and clear your throat, trying to sound more composed. 

“I wanted to try something new today. Well, tonight. Welcome to Spring Night Streams, where I’ll be playing some not safe for work in more of a raunchy way type of games. Because as we know if there’s blood and guts and horror, it’s all ages! But boobs, those are a no no!”

You shakily laugh and suck your lip into your teeth. The taste of your lipstick laths over your tongue and you try not to think about how messy you just made it look. Or how you might now have lipstick on your teeth to really add an effect of clownery to your poor jokes. 

“I’m going to play this game? It came out a few years ago, but it’s a puzzle game called MiCamStudio. Maybe some of you have played it. But uh, yeah if you don’t like things like that I can always um…well I’ll just try it and see…” you trail off and nervously fidget with your controls as you open the game. 

Whatever you were expecting out of a dating simulator type game where you were in charge of cam girls, it wasn’t this. When you open the menu to start a new game, the animation that loads after you click “Start Streaming” is dozens of bra-clad boobs bouncing across the screen as it transitions you to the story line menu. 

Jesus Christ. Heat floods your cheeks. This somehow feels worse than the time your earbuds died and you didn’t notice that the audiobook of a very spicy holiday romance you were listening to wasn’t coming through them, but your phone. On the bus. And to make matters worse, you were at a part where the narrator was very generously providing sound effects and moans for the main character as she participated in an orgy with triple penetration. Yikes. 

You begin the walk-through of the storyline, greeted by Candy, a pink haired, busty camgirl who is looking to expand her horizons in the business. As you tap through the prompts, Candy starts to become less dressed, abandoning her already tiny skirt and crop top combo for a barely-there set of lingerie that covers just her nipples and vagina. 

“I need your help!” Candy pouts, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I need 400 new fans for my business or else I’ll be out of work! Quick, use this magic wand as you solve puzzles to help me get closer to my goal!” 

The wand is, of course, a vibrator. When you play through the first level tutorial and are prompted to use the wand, it vibrates the blocks, shifting them into new positions on the screen to match colors together. If you get enough combos, she has a giant orgasm, which increases her fans so you can pass to the next level. 

As you work through some of the first few levels, you notice that your view count has recovered somewhat from earlier, though the comments are kind of off-putting. Not because people are being sexually inappropriate, but because they’re mad you’re not interacting with them. 

NGL I thought this was going to be more fun and naughty. 

Yeah now she’s not even talking to us at all. 

I miss when she was bad at games and it was at least interesting. 

Someone come get me if she starts moaning again like she did earlier. 

Fuck. You are fucking this up. And your viewers are right, you haven’t been talking to them. Or really doing anything but playing the game and trying not to wince from embarrassment every time Candy moans as you make her a star. 

There’s got to be something you can do. You think about Seokjin again, who you’re not sure is still watching, but you hope some of that confident edge he had last night starts to come over you, too. What was it that he did to keep everyone engaged? 

He gave them incentive. A goal. He didn’t have to say much to them but tell them what to do and they happily did it. And that also took the pressure off of him to keep talking. 

With a deep breath, you test the waters. “Oh, you wanted more fun and naughty? Well, you didn’t really work for it did you?” 

You hate the words as they come from your mouth, but they have an immediate result. 

Loyal2You tipped 1600 points. What do you need us to do to earn it?

Your face burns hot, and you sip some water to try and cool yourself, playing it off as nonchalance rather than anxiety. You feel your stomach threatening to lurch into your throat as you force out the next sentence.  

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe you need to show me what I need,” you smirk. You really don’t know. Money? Subs? People not questioning you? This to be over?

LongJohn69 gifted 10 subs. Maybe this will help? 😉

“Well, it’s a start. Thanks for the sub,” you giggle, forcing yourself to relax into your chair. 

“Hmm, what can I give you all as a reward? I feel like I could really use some cute new clothes that I can wear for you next stream if you help me?” 

Your voice is softened and the pitch is a bit higher. Maybe Candy’s baby voice is having an impact on you from the game, because your normal, even paced tone is taking a turn. Is this the persona you’ve been trying to find? 

But you need this money. School, your future. You can’t just keep living the way you have been. 

7DaysAWeek tipped 10,000 points. Please, say “thank you 7 days” in that adorable whiny voice, baby. I’ll double tip if you do.

You freeze. 20,000 points is $200. All for you to say something so simple and stupid? 

God, but it doesn’t feel right to do it. You could ignore it, you think. And walk away with $100 before your commission rate is taken out. Which will end up being nothing, you realize.

“Oh, hmm.” You pause and then just do it. “Okay. Thank you 7 Days for the points. I really appreciate it.” You drum up the dramatics, eliciting some horrible, embarrassing baby voice that makes your vowels stringy and weak. 

Yuck. More requests pour in, people eager to get you to recite some innocent seeming phrases that you know are fodder for their spank bank. 

You see a tiny notification flash in the bottom right corner: a private message from Wonwoo. 

Y/N, you could get into deep shit if you aren’t careful. This could potentially violate your terms of service. 

You frown at the message but nod to let him know you read it. 

“Okay, well, I think it’s time we get back to the game!” You awkwardly divert your attention back to the screen, letting Candy’s moans fill the silence as you ignore the new requests and subs for the rest of your stream, too humiliated to think about what they could be saying.

After you end your stream, you feel the damn of tears that was welling your eyes for the last half hour spill. 

What a fucking disaster. What started as a hopeful night turned out to be one of your most streamed yet somehow also least successful broadcasts. The rush of viewers at the start provided you with a great boost, but after you didn’t engage again with the requests, your views, subs, and points plummeted, leaving you with a very slim payout for the day. This wouldn’t be much of anything for your bills once commission is taken. 

You don’t know how people do this. You feel like absolutely dog shit, and you even wrapped early, pretending that you were sick. But maybe you also aren’t really pretending, your stomach feels knotted and sour. 

Something about that felt wrong, but you don’t really understand why. It’s not like you’re prudish or fear sex. On any given day those kinds of requests stack up by the hundreds. But maybe it’s because tonight you finally peeled back the dismissive layer and let them in that has you feeling vulnerable and honestly, a little dirty. 

You wipe some stray tears from your eyes, stretching across the desk to grab your phone and pull it off of do not disturb mode. You see a few texts from Seokjin that he sent while you were streaming. 

Seokjin (8:17PM): Hey! I didn’t know you were supposed to stream yesterday. I would have let you leave early if I’d known.😞

Seokjin (9:15PM): Hey, are you okay? You look really uncomfortable. I know you’re playing and won’t see this until after you’re done but I wanted to check. 

Seokjin (9:47PM): Y/N, please don’t feed into these requests if it’s not what you want. 

Seokjin (10:02PM): Call me. The second you get this. Urgent.

You read the last text, which was sent twenty minutes ago. Shit, did something happen to the restaurant? 

“Y/N,” Seokjin says after one ring, his voice strained. 

“Um, hi Seokjin. I’m just calling you back because you said it’s urgent! Is everything okay with the restaurant? Did the snow knock power out or something? If you need me to come in tomorrow too I can help with stuff.”

“What?” Seokjin pauses for a second, his exasperation now turned to confusion. “No, Y/N. Everything with the restaurant is fine.”

“Oh. Then why did you call?” you ask. 

“Well, if you saw all my texts then you know I was watching your stream. And I just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay after that? Near the end you looked pretty upset.”

The warmth in your stomach you felt when you first heard his voice is gone, replaced by a sharp, gritty unease.

“Oh. Um, yeah I’m…fine,” but the tightness in your throat betrays you and a tiny sob escapes as the tears begin falling again. 

Seokjin doesn’t say anything as you sniffle into your phone, scrubbing the dribble away from your nose and cheeks with your sleeve. 

“Hey,” he says as your cries become softer. “Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?”

“It’s kind of late, isn’t it,” you say weakly. 

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?” He repeats. 

Do you? Part of you is exhausted, tempted to just go right to bed. But you know if you lie down right now in the rest of that unfolded pile of laundry you might never emerge. 

“Ok,” you whisper into the receiver. 

“I’ll come get you,” Seokjin says. “Dress warm. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

When you were little, your parents took you on a road trip to get away from the city. You sat in the backseat, kicking your father’s chair grumpily on the first day, tired from waking up early and having to be stuffed into the car with the mountain of snacks, toys, clothes, and camping gear you had shoved in beside you. Your father was patient for the first hour of your kicks, but before long the steady thump thump thump on his lower back was becoming a strong annoyance as he navigated further away from home. 

“Y/N,” your father had sharply warned once he’d had enough. “Keep it up, and I’ll take your feet off and put them into my pockets.” 

While in retrospect the threat is silly and impossible, at the time, your five-year-old self was struck with horror as you imagined him sawing your feet off like the patients who were out in the snow for too long in that medical TV show you saw at your grandparents’ house once.

You’d tucked your feet underneath you until you were at a rest stop, where picnic tables and a small garden scape awaited you, filled with native wildflowers and lazy, fat bees that hovered from flower to flower. 

Your mother smoothed your hair with her hand, guiding you through the garden as your father bought your lunches from inside the building. 

“He didn’t mean it,” she’d said softly, feathering the tips of your hair across your cheek. Goosebumps prickled along your arms and you shivered, even though the sun was heavy and hot on top of you that day. “No one will take your feet from you.” 

You’d hugged her tightly then, still unsure as to why someone would try to take your feet from you. Your tapping in the car was mostly to keep you from feeling like you were going to be sick, but back then you didn’t really have the words to express yourself. 

When your father returned, he wordlessly placed your meal in front of you, including a large, fudgy cookie for dessert. Your father had always been proud, and even then when he didn’t apologize to you and promise he wouldn’t saw off your feet, being given a dessert was as good as any apology. 

He smiled when you licked the smudged chocolate off your fingers, eventually tutting impatiently so your mother would take you to the bathroom to wash up. Afterwards, you found him looking at a map on the building’s outside wall, with a bright cherry red You Are Here sticker signifying where in this confusing picture you were supposed to be. 

“There’s an observation point a few stops away from here. It’s supposed to be a really nice view over a valley. Y/N, do you want to be our navigator for those and help me decide when we should stop to look?” 

Laced in there was his apology. An opportunity at redemption, connection. You’d nodded instantly and scrambled back into the car, no longer upset about having to share your space in the backseat with all the cargo, ready to take on your role as your father’s co-pilot. 

You visited every observation point along that freeway that trip, all the way from the rest stop to the campground in some rural village. Some of the spots were lackluster, now overgrown and showing a view of a wall of trees and bushes and not some regal cavern or farmland below. But there were also the ones that, had you never insisted on visiting, you would have never seen half as much of the flora and fauna you’d expected to see on your camping trip. And it was the one major trip your family had ever had that made you all feel like a collective unit, ready to fight against the forces of grumpiness or foot-sawers together.

From that point on, whenever you saw the sign marker, you couldn’t help but feel a smile bloom on your face, which is why at this moment you are sitting next to Seokjin in his car, bundled up and stupidly beaming at him as he mirrors a happy but confused smirk back at you.

When he’d picked you up, Seokjin didn’t say much, just started driving north, through your neighborhood and into the rolling hills outside of the city. While this morning’s snow still clings to the trees and rooftops of some hillside buildings, surprisingly, the plows have done a good job of ensuring the road is safe and salted. You can feel the tense knots in your shoulders starting to lessen a little just from the feeling of being somewhere else for a while.

As you weave up the mountain side, toward the observation point, you gasp. 

“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?’ His eyes bulge from his head. 

“It’s just that, I love observation points,” you say sheepishly, not sure if you should divulge your entire story. 

Seokjin nods, thoughtful. “I like to come up here sometimes when I’ve had a really bad day. Just need to clear my head. Seemed like you needed to do that too.” The car curves along the bend, some of the wind fluttering clods of snow from the trees and onto the road. 

“Yeah, I do…” You trail off, letting him take you higher into the mountain before pulling into the observation point. This one has some small cafés and despite the late hour and snowfall, there are still quite a few cars parked in the lot, some sets of families and couples strolling around with warm drinks and peering out onto the twinkling, snow-covered city below. 

“How’s your head,” he asks gently, and it takes you a minute to remember what he’s referring to. You touch the make-up covered bruise and shrug.

 “Eh, it’s not so bad.” Truly, as the day wears on, you are feeling a bit tender, but the swelling has gone down, and your worry has gone with it. 

Seokjin opens your door for you, ever the gentleman, and you try to fight off the harsh tug in your chest that likens this behavior to a date. 

The two of you head over toward one of the lookout points, leaning against the rail posts. You take in the rolling hills below, how soft and plush the city looks now, almost like it could never be a place where you feel sadness or loneliness. You sigh. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Seokjin begins gently, “but I was wondering what happened during your stream tonight.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him. 

Maybe this conversation would feel more uncomfortable if you didn’t already feel so awful. You are just trying to feel a little bit better about this whole ordeal. Trying to find in you some nugget of comfort to ensure a more stable future. And hell, Seokjin had made it seem so easy. But now, you are humiliated. You aren’t sure how you are going to go live again and go back to how things were before when the internet is probably making a giant laughing stock of you, or fetishizing you. You’re not sure which one is worse. 

“So, I know when we used to be, um, friends, I had mentioned to you that streaming is something I fell into. And as you also know from working with me, I don’t have the best social skills. Or I can, maybe, I don’t know. Anyway, I haven’t been liking it that much, really. Mostly because people in the chat always ask really personal questions about me and it feels weird. Like they’re real people but they can’t be real, to me. Does that make sense?”

He nods once, urging you to continue. 

“Right, so, in all of this, I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it more fun for me. And last night I saw you-YouTuber. I saw this YouTube streamer and on his stream he just seemed so cool, and smart. And he was able to both stay engaged without telling everyone everything and had distance. But he also was kind of domin-strong, he was just really good at telling people to meet goals and incentives. And it worked, they did it. I thought, maybe this could help me be better at this so I don’t hate it so much. I could make some persona, do something different that helps me better enjoy it or make more money. I don’t know. It seems stupid now when I think about it.”

“It’s not stupid, Y/N,” Seokjin says, turning to you. Your eyes flit to his face. His nose is pinkish from the cold, and his broad shoulders are tightly bound up to his ears to avoid the chill from spreading. 

“Of course you should like streaming, but if you don’t, if this isn’t the formula that works for you, then maybe you should try something different to help you.”

“How do you do it?” you ask, realizing too late what you are saying. 

Seokjin freezes. “Do what?”

“Um, how do you maintain confidence all the time? Like at work and stuff.”

Seokjin scoffs. “I don’t. You know that. Weren’t you just with me last week when I was bowing and spluttering like an idiot to Mrs. Yoon because that one repair man backed his car over her potted azalea? I was anything but confident then.” 

You fight a soft smile. Seokjin had been trying to scoop the twiggy, out of season bush into a bucket to salvage it before offering to replace it. Mrs. Yoon however, was having none of it, chirping on about how that plant had been germinated from her ancestors’ hillside home generations ago, and despite her choosing to carelessly plop it into a busy alleyway, she was sure there was no replacement that could soothe her aching heart. Seokjin handed her a wad of cash, and a gift certificate to the restaurant in an act of good faith. That seemed to shut her up. 

“You know what I mean,” you nudge. “You have an ability to talk to people though. Even Mrs. Yoon can’t say no to your mother’s bossam recipe when you charm her like that.” 

“First of all, no one can say no to my mother’s bossam recipe, regardless if I’m there to grovel or not. Secondly, you’re charming too, Y/N.”

You chortle at this. You? Charming? “Ha, I wish. But really, Seokjin. Half of that stream was an awkward setup and I thought I was going to puke. And not because of how I was dressed or anything like that. It’s so weird. I don’t really care about if people make comments like that about me because they’re impersonal. But knowing that I am sitting there, and everyone has some expectation of how I’m going to perform for them, it makes me feel awful.” 

“Tell me about it,” you hear him mutter, but he then recovers. “It sounds like that crossed one of your boundaries, then. Just because some explicit stuff doesn’t bother you, doesn’t mean that nothing ever will. And it doesn’t have to make sense. You can not care if strangers are talking about you sexually but care if you’re engaging with them and using sexual innuendos to do so.” 

Part of you is tempted to engage with the comment, to press him to explain and pretend that you have no idea what he’s speaking in regard to. But what good would that do here? Please Seokjin, can you share with me how being a gay sex cammer, which I absolutely already know about after watching you and masturbating to you, has impacted your life? 

God, how mortifying it would be for you. 

Instead, you let the comment go, cutting him enough slack so he can assume you didn’t hear him. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Seokjin adds. You shoot him a look. 

“I don’t really have much of a choice at this point! No offense, but it’s not like I’m making bank at the restaurant, and I already have chosen to withdraw from this term because of billing issues and–” 

“You’re withdrawing from school? Y/N!” He yells,  and you feel a heat of shame flood your cheeks as you see some scattered people shift their attention toward you. 

Now you were both embarrassed and pissed. How dare he scold you?

“Not from school, just the term!” you yell back. You’d made the choice in your spiral this evening, in between bio breaks. It was haunting you as you stared back at the packet of financial aid papers and billings notices. Streaming, you’ve now seen, is such a hit or miss game. And you truly can’t maintain the expenses that can cut into your work hours. Especially if you need to get a different job that isn’t streaming or working at the restaurant. 

“Is..is that where Spring Night Streams is coming from?” he asks, face flushed with embarrassment at his outburst. Your anger dulls.

“Partially. This felt like some way to sustain myself without it draining me. I thought maybe if I look pretty, people won’t just come and try to either ask me super personal things I don’t want to share, or they’ll just feed into basically the illusion of sex and pay me that way. And I can continue to play games and suck at them or be good at them, but the original reason behind why they came to my stream could be replaced with a different person, someone who isn’t so closely trying to dig into me.

“But, then I fumbled the bag, and you saw it. The viewer count was fluctuating so bad, and the second I interacted with that one comment, suddenly I was toeing the line for TOS and could easily have jeopardized my entire branding and be permanently banned from the website for sexual activity. Tonight was one of the lowest payouts I’ve made since I started. And now I know too, this could all just as easily go away if I’m not being…I don’t know. Compliant.” 

Seokjin makes a dissatisfied grunt, his breath coming out in a white puff. Now past eleven, most of the couples and families have dispersed, and the cute café that had advertised decadent looking hot chocolates is closed. The only thing remaining open is the tiny convenient store. 

You try to suppress a shiver but fail. 

“Come on,” he says, guiding you away from the railing and toward the store. 

Inside, the shopkeeper doesn’t even flinch or look away from his phone, which is streaming some sports match in Spanish. 

Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back as he guides you over to the drinks section, gesturing for you to select something from the warm options. 

“I wouldn’t recommend anything pre-made,” he warns, his voice low. “That stuff has probably been here since this morning.” He helps himself to a tea packet and the hot water dispenser. 

You browse a little and find a packet of hot chocolate. While it may not be the fancy, marshmallow delight pink drink that the café had advertised in their window, this will do just fine. 

By the time you’ve gotten your drink mixed together, Seokjin is waiting for you at the counter, a selection of different snacks piled high and a gentle smile on his face despite how bothered and grumpy the shop worker is toward him, practically smashing the food into a bag and muttering a total. 

You hadn’t given yourself a chance to really look at him before, but as he stands before you, you can finally take in how incredible he looks. While he’s wearing some gray joggers underneath, he’s elected for a long black puffer coat and green knit sweater and somehow looks so put together, so…boyfriend. 

Your heart flutters a bit and you try to tamp it down. This isn’t a date, you remind yourself, Get a hold of yourself Y/N. 

As you head back out into the chilly air, you both settle into a table outside of the convenience store, and Seokjin pulls the snacks out of the bag, all of which are your favorites. 

“You remembered?” you ask, a little stunned that he would commit all your tiny convenience store runs to memory over the months you’ve worked together and would split packets of sweet potato puffs and tiny, sweet cakes. He shrugs. 

“Morale is low. You need the boost. Now pass me some of those chips, I’m starving.” 

Your stomach growls in agreement, and you pop open the bag, nibbling away quietly. 

“You don’t need to people please to be a good streamer,” Seokjin says finally, rinsing his mouth with his tea. You chew your bottom nervously but wait for him to continue. “There’s tons of people on the internet who do streaming for all kinds of uh, stuff. And they make a ton of money without compromising their values to do so. Maybe instead of focusing on what you think people want in a stream, do what you want instead.” 

You sigh. “See, that sounds great and all, but when I tried that today, people got mad and left. Did you see all the donations trying to get me to say things or do stuff after that first one?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, taking a big bite of a chocolate cake thing and chewing diligently. “Welrr,” he begins, his mouth stuffed full, “I guesh you have to undershtand dat peepo on dee internet will always chewz sex first to get what dey wan.” He swallows. “And if that doesn’t work because someone sets a boundary, fuck them.” He pauses. “Not literally!” A blush creeps up his neck. 

You laugh. “I thought you limited your swearing to mostly angry kitchen interactions,” you say, and sip the watery hot chocolate. You wince. 

“You chose wrong with that hot chocolate. I’ll make it up to you next time.” Next time. Your stomach leaps. 

“But you don’t see it because I’m trying to maintain a professional air most of the time. But I say shit, piss, cock and fuck pretty regularly.” Like when you’re camming, you mentally note. 

“Yeah, so, speaking of that. And boundaries. This isn’t really the most professional boss-employee relationship happening right now.” You gesture around you. You didn’t want to say it, but you know it needs to be addressed. Seokjin and you really need to figure out a new set of rules, especially now you know what he does after dark, and he’s watching your streams, too. 

He pauses and sighs. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Look Y/N, I do want to talk about that. And we can address it. But before we do, I want to finish talking to you about what happened earlier today. Can we do a brief boss-employee dynamic halt for the rest of the time we’re up here? I want to talk to you as a friend right now, which we once were, even if it was for a short time. Will you let me do that?” 

You look up at him, and he’s gazing back with intensity, and also something that looks almost like desperation. 

“Okay,” you say. “For the rest of the time we’re out of the city. We are just two people. Friends. Not boss. Not an employee. Just us.” 

He smiles at that. “Yeah, just us.” 

Seokjin tried to not kick himself in his own ass for doing what he was doing now. Bringing you up here, to his safe place, was far too intimate of a decision. But when he’d watched the rest of your stream, watched you do stuff that– while he couldn’t be absolutely sure but he could assume– tested your boundaries and comfort, he knew he couldn’t just let you spiral by yourself. 

He’d been there before. During a show earlier in his cam career, Seokjin was once asked to try a more extreme kink on his stream which involved a thin metal rod that he would push into his urethra for pleasure. 

He’d agreed to try it before he’d even looked it up, and even when purchasing the equipment, he’d felt really queasy and knew he would hate it. But he’d promised, which he now understood was a fake law people set for themselves to push them past their limits. On the stream where he tested it out, he started shaking and crying, stopping before he could even open the package with the rods in it and ended his stream early. 

From then on, he had spent more time learning about kinks and BDSM. It was much more psychological and technical than he’d realized, with precise and careful movements, components of care, and more thoughtfulness than he’d ever really learned from porn or the internet. 

While he and Soon Yi had been exploratory in their sex life, it wasn’t like they’d ever done proper research when they were together. Looking at things now, he felt a little sickened knowing she could have gotten seriously hurt the times he choked her, not knowing the right placement of hands or pressure to make sure he didn’t cause permanent damage. 

Seokjin then reassessed his boundaries. He never wanted to position himself on his streams where he would succumb to pressure for money and compromise his own safety or desire. This was supposed to be fun.

The main tenets of BDSM are safe, sane, and consensual, which is hard to define on the internet. When something is leaked or found by the wrong party, it can especially compromise consent. With a permanent imprint of something existing once agreed upon, at any point someone’s right to withdraw consent can be invalidated simply because there’s a paper trail. And if that happened, then safety and sanity were sure to be called into question too.

Which is why Seokjin couldn’t stay silent after he saw you drawing breath after shaky breath after the first exchange with that follower. The instant regret that bloomed on your face as you so easily traded your comfort to make money, he never wanted you to feel that or experience it again. 

Which is why you now sat before him, the residual makeup from your stream still there but smeared, a thin looking peacoat doing a lot of work to protect you from the elements. This is why he said dress warm. Why were you wearing a glorified blazer in this weather?

He knew his time was limited with you, and that yes, he was already compromising this boundary that he’d set. But boundaries could be redrawn, and in this moment, he didn’t want the only thing protecting you right now to be that peacoat. He needed to protect you too. 

Granted, you probably were questioning his qualifications in this, and for a brief moment he considered telling you, but he quickly dismissed the idea when he remembered the video of him cumming and saying your name existed on his page if you’d ever gotten curious. Behind a paywall, sure, but it was there. 

No, for now, it was Seokjin and Y/N, friends. Us, he thought, and his pulse quickened unhelpfully. 

You sat in front of him, sipping at that awful hot chocolate, waiting for him to deliver more of his advice. He hesitated to speak more. Here you were, attention fully focused on him, and the dependence on him to get you home tonight, to move back into a world that wasn’t just you two and your own little universe, and all Seokjin was doing was considering how long he could carry on the pause. 

Maybe he would never speak again, and you would have to stay here forever, on top of the mountain as the snow began to gently fall around you two like you both lived in your own private snow globe. 

Wait, snow? Seokjin blinked, and sure enough the flakes were swirling around you both again, the wind kicking up your hair. You let out a sharp shiver, and that broke the fantasy of staying here. 

He ushered you back to the car, where now the snow was coming down in thick, heavy globs that signified the moisture in the air had increased, which made sense. Back in the city, the forecast had said it was set to rain, but he’d forgotten elevation impacts the weather, and that the change of moisture in the air also could result in ice on the way down. 

As you warmed your hands in front of his heat vents, he tried to think of his next move. It was now after midnight, which meant the road authority was probably not planning on plowing the roads anytime soon, and the accumulation quickly erasing the parking lot around you was a sure sign that it soon would be unsafe to drive. 

If you stay here any longer, you might be stuck together all night, an evil idea glinted through his head, and he felt a pulse of desire run through him as he caught a whiff of your soft, sweet scent. 

It would be kind of hot, the two of you snuggled in the backseat of his SUV, you clinging to him tightly to keep yourself warm through the storm as you used his parka as a blanket, the windows fogging up to give you two privacy as you moved tighter together, panting into each other’s mouths when you rubbed up against him and–

No. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Urging his steadily inflating erection down, he glanced over to you, noticing you were still shivering. 

He sighed. God, why did he have to get hard right now, in gray sweatpants no less? Nothing screamed “boner alert” more than seeing a dick swelling in light colored sweats. But you were still cold, and he decided he would rather risk you seeing him hard than your teeth chattering or you getting sick. 

Seokjin removed his puffer, handing it to you. “Here, put this on,” he ordered, and you looked at him, a tremor rocking through your body as you tried to eke out a “thank you”.

You began to put the puffer over your peacoat, but Seokjin shook his head. “I think your peacoat is useless right now. Maybe you should take that off and just wear mine. And then, consider getting a new coat,” he teased. 

You hesitated. “Uh,” you said. Seokjin’s eyebrow raised, and he swiftly adjusted himself in his joggers while you looked down at your coat before sighing and unbuttoning it. 

Fuck. You still had on that same top from earlier, and Seokjin could now see that it wasn’t just a sexy, low cut top that showed your heavy and full breasts, but that it also had a large keyhole cutout through the back, which meant you didn’t wear a bra with it. He bit his lip as he took in your hard and prominent nipples. God, no wonder you were cold. You were practically naked. 

His cock twitched, and any attempts he had at concealing his erection were useless. He was now definitely going to be fully hard for the rest of the drive. 

You zipped yourself into Seokjin’s puffer and let out a satisfied sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth. Seokjin took the opportunity to snatch your peacoat from your lap and drape it over himself, praying that would help conceal some of the compass-pointing-north bullshit he was trying to stave off. 

Unfortunately, you snuggled into his coat was just making it worse. 

Clearing his throat, he started the car, and slowly began testing the surface of the parking lot. It was a little slick, but nothing too bad. If you stayed any longer, though, you would definitely be here overnight. 

With a silent, sad nod to the outlook point, Seokjin prepared himself to head back to reality, where your moment of connection would be replaced by workplace congeniality. 

About halfway down the mountain, the snow surely turned to a heavy rain, aggressively battering down on the windshield and making it nearly impossible to find the lines on the road. 

“I’m sorry, I think I should pull over,” he apologized and you agreed easily, your shoulders relaxing a bit as he pulled over to the side of the road. 

“Well, we never really got to finish talking about stuff anyway,” you offered generously. 

Seokjin smirked back. “Yeah, we didn’t. Look, what I wanted to say earlier was that with streaming, you shouldn’t have to compromise on what you want to be successful. If people leave your stream because they can’t hear you baby voice their requests so they can get off, then fuck them. They aren’t the community of people you want to watch your content, anyway. Those are the type of people who are never satisfied, who will just demand more from you. Sooner or later they’ll be less kind and be aggressive and threatening. And you don’t deserve that, Y/N.” 

He sucked in a breath. “You just need a chance to build confidence, that’s all. Assuming you even want to continue doing these streams. I know you said you don’t feel like you have much of a choice, but maybe I could help you out. Uh, I could give you a raise or something so you could quit! And with school, too, I’m sure we could figure out something! Maybe if it’s not too late you could go back and––”

You held up your hands, signaling for Seokjin to stop talking. 

“I’ve made up my mind! And I don’t think giving me a raise or trying to help me with school would be a great way of maintaining that boundary we are supposed to have, remember? Something tells me a boss isn’t supposed to offer his employee an undeserved pay raise for her personal issues.” You huff.

You were right. Seokjin chuckled. “Okay, fair. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to throw everything away like I did.” 

You whipped your head over to him. “Listen, Seokjin. I appreciate that you care and don’t want things to happen to me. But I’m also not you. And you also didn’t throw everything away but that’s another topic completely, one I thought we discussed yesterday morning. Regardless, I’m getting a lot of mixed messages here and I need you to help me understand what exactly is happening right now. Are you my friend or my boss? Because right now it feels like you’re telling me what to do like you are in charge of me but hiding it behind the guise of friendship and that’s not how this works. So explain. Ideally before you drop me off and we don’t speak again until Monday.” 

Seokjin swallowed hard, an anxiousness beginning to swirl in your stomach. This whole conversation felt like it was going south really quick. He scrambled to steady himself and took a deep breath.

“You’re right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t styled it today, and the black strands were sticking to his forehead from the melted snow. “I’m sorry. You have every right to decide. And you’d said before that this was a temporary pause. And even if it wasn’t, that’s also your choice.”

“Again, yes, you’re right. But I also don’t see why you seem to care so much!” Your volume raised in annoyance and you crossed your arms over your chest in a puff. “You don’t get to decide I’m some soft little flower who can’t advocate for herself! Like yeah, I feel shitty about what I did but I’m just trying to figure out my boundaries, just like you said earlier! So yes, I have the right to decide if I want to go back to school or not! Thanks for pointing that out!”

If he hadn’t been getting chewed out right now by you, Seokjin would’ve thought you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen, your mouth settled into a sharp frown and your eyebrows knit together as you argued with him. 

Instead though, he felt like a jackass. He’d seriously overstepped in his attempts to protect you, and guilt washed through him as he realized he was placing himself into your shoes. Even if your situations were scarily similar, you still had the right to do what you wanted without his interference. Besides, his intention was to provide safety for you, not control. Maybe he’d underestimated you earlier and how you were utilizing your stream. Yes, you were uncomfortable, but it’s not like you were a child who was set to be taken advantage of, or that you’d make the same mistakes he would.  

“I-I care about you, Y/N. We’re friends. I know being your boss changed a lot, and while I sign your paycheck and have to give you orders, it’s not like that change in role made me care less. It’s not that easy.” 

You uncrossed your arms. “But,” you started, your tone softening, “you can’t both tell me what to do as my boss and tell me what to do as a friend. I’m not clocked in, Seokjin. And that’s why this is so fucking hard. Because my boss is the one who took me up a mountain after apologizing to me yesterday for his “gross misuse of power” when I’m the one who kissed you sitting on a fucking prep counter! And yeah, we were friends before you were my boss, and that means I learned to work with you and trust you as my coworker, and we shared interests so you can watch my streams and tell me about MapleStory. We have history and it’s not something we can deny. But you keep acting like I am not in control, like I am not an adult. 

“I would love it if we could stay on this mountain forever,” you added, taking the words Seokjin was thinking earlier and making them real, “because, maybe then we could just stay friends. I miss you as my friend! And I wouldn’t feel so…weird now trying to figure out which guy, Boss Seokjin or Friend Seokjin, is talking to me.” 

Seokjin was unsure what to say, just that he knew he’d fucked up yesterday not just with his behavior in the kitchen, but ultimately how he set boundaries with you. 

“I don’t know what to do about it, Y/N,” he said weakly, honestly. 

“Can I then offer a suggestion?” Your voice sounded frustrated, on the verge of yelling. He nodded. 

“On this mountain, right now. You are my friend. And any other time when we aren’t at work, we are friends. We are not the first two people who started a friendship and had a power dynamic at work. I don’t know what happened in your past that makes this so hard for you, and you don’t need to tell me. But whatever you said yesterday, it wasn’t true. I want you to trust me when I say you didn’t take advantage of me. Was it kind of stupid and inappropriate on both our parts? Sure. But I’m not this weak, breakable thing. You said so yourself with my boundary-setting for my stream that I just need confidence to assert myself and make sure I don’t get taken advantage of. So let me start with you. Help me start with you.” 

You leaned a little closer and Seokjin’s heart beat erratically. “I promise, Kim Seokjin, that whatever happened in the kitchen yesterday was consensual. At least on my end. And that I do hold you in regard as my boss during work hours most of the time. But I can’t fucking stand if you continue to uphold this standard when you talk to me as an authority and then immediately pull a hypocritical move and try to be my friend after. It’ll drive me crazy.”

Your voice was shaky now, like you were holding back tears. Seokjin fought the urge to pull you close to him, but god, how he wanted to. 

“What you do need,” he asked and you sighed. 

“Clear communication. On both sides. No more deciding for me. On anything. If I say no at work, it’s just as valid as saying no in private, even if it’s something you think is what’s best for me. Even if you don’t like it. Because you don’t know what really is or isn’t until I tell you.” He nodded in agreement. 

“I can do that. And I’m sorry again, for how confusing this must’ve been. I acted selfishly when I decided that my position as your boss overruled and negated any of our history. It was never going to be as clean as I wanted it to be,” he apologized. 

You managed a sad smile but nodded, a sign you accepted his apology. 

“Thank you. And also, I do want to continue doing the streams. I didn’t get to say that before. I do want to try after dark stuff. Because it feels like it could be fun, could help me stay involved but less personal if that makes sense. And…” You trailed off, humming to yourself as you tried to find the words for your final thought. 

“I really would like it if I could have your help in this. To help coach me in a way to maintain that boundary. You did have some really great points on execution. And I think maybe your experience in cam-leadership and management could help me both continue doing this but also finding what I want. And I need a friend for that. Not a boss or manager.” 

Seokjin’s eyes widened as he caught the last of what you were saying. 

“Wait,” he said, trying to put the pieces together. Were you asking what he thought you were asking? “So…you want me to help you run an adult-only, after dark gaming stream?” You laughed. 

“I need you to be my confidence coach,” you clarified. “Help me learn how to say no to my fanbase and keep myself calm throughout a stream so I don’t compromise. And like, I don’t know. We can iron out the details, the idea is so fresh to me, but I need you, my caring friend Seokjin, to make sure I don’t break the terms of service again and ban me from streaming.”

He blinked a few times, unsure how you’d arrived at the conclusion that he would be any good at this. 

But Seokjin knew he would be. He did this multiple times a week, and it’s how he knew you were heading toward trouble. What if he could help you learn how to protect yourself? Because you were right, you didn’t need anyone to save you. But you maybe needed someone to show you. And he could be that person. 

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll do it.”

As Seokjin pulls up to your apartment nearly an hour later, you feel a slight sadness that your night is over. On the way home, as the rain steadily poured and the city lights came back into a clear view, you’d felt a tug of worry in your gut that because you were back in the city, your agreement to stay friends wasn’t real, and that any moment Seokjin would be cold and formal, withdrawing his agreement to help you with streaming. 

You’d had the idea in the car in somewhat of an epiphany, sorting through the confusing dynamic you’d been shoved into. It made sense to you, now. Instead of trying to model yourself after the master, why not learn from the man himself? 

Despite your initial anxiety that he would back out, Seokjin if anything is all the more reassuring, gently nudging you with your peacoat in his hands to signal it is time to trade. You nod sleepily, shrugging it off your shoulders and trying to ignore the disappointment you have in no longer being enveloped in his warm scent. 

As you tuck your arms back through your sleeves, Seokjin gets out of his side of the car, the rain still beating harshly, but he appears even more determined to open your door for you, opening an umbrella to keep you and your coat from getting pounded on. 

You try to insist on sharing the umbrella, but Seokjin shakes his head, guiding you forward toward your apartment complex’s front door. 

“Thank you,” you say as you step under the lip of the roof with him, smiling up at Seokjin, who is already soaked. His black hair is piecey and dripping down his face, plastering a few disheveled pieces across his forehead. “God, you really should’ve used the umbrella too! You’re drenched!”

Seokjin laughs a hearty laugh, the squeaky, windshield wiper one that makes your chest burn. “Please, that coat you’re wearing is pathetic. I had said dress for the warmth and you picked one of the worst things you could find. Even a standard issue blazer has more weather resistance than that thing!” 

“Excuse you, but this coat most of the time is fine. And also, I thought you were just saying it as a formality! If I’d known we were heading into a literal mountain I would have changed my clothes!” You bicker back, your laughter filling the space between you two. 

“Yeah, well, now you know for next time,” he says, eyes flickering with something you almost categorize as lust. 

You beam. This time the idea of next time feels possible. If Seokjin and you can work on these weird work boundaries, there might be a hope something comes from this after all. Unless he’s gay, which you still can’t quite figure out, but you try not to think about that as he shakes his head like a big dog. 

“Okay, Sparky,” you joke and glance down at your phone. It’s very late now, and your body is quickly succumbing to the exhaustion of the day. “I’ll see you Monday?”

Seokjin’s shoulders sag, and he sighs, stepping back into the rain. “Yeah, I should probably let you go now. I’ll see you on Monday. And Y/N?”

His lips turn into a smug smirk as the rain soaks through his clothes. “Don’t forget that you promised me a crate of julienned carrots”.

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

#bts smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin #bts fanfic #ksj #ksj x reader #ksj smut #ksj fic

[shina913]

Nothing | KSJ

Pairing: KSJ x Fem!Reader

Rating: 🔞M; NSFW

Genre: Established relationship; slice of life; fluff; smut

Warnings: dilf!Seokjin; cussing; fingering; quickie unprotected sex in a committed, monogamous relationship; creampie; soft-fluffy aftercare in the end.

Word count: 956 words

Summary: You can’t get laid while on vacation with your kids…or can you?

A/N: Believe it or not, this started off soft LMAO but...Idk what happened 🤡 Anyway, it's a random "missing Jin hours" night for me. And yayy I finally got to use this photo of Jin 😅 This is also unbeta’d so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors 😬

It was a holiday weekend and your kids were finally out of school. You and Seokjin booked a little staycation to kick off your summer.

You can’t get laid while on vacation with your kids. It was a thought you both knew all too well. Still, you had to commend him for making an effort.

He went all out and booked a junior suite with an actual door that separates the bedroom from the sitting room. Your hotel room also came with a large couch that had a queen-sized sofa bed where the kids could sleep. He hoped that with the resort's family-friendly amenities, the kids would be thoroughly entertained and effectively drained of all their energy so they could sleep early, leaving some much-needed alone time for the both of you.

However, just as the kids were exhausted, you and Seokjin were too tired as well.

The following morning, you check your phone and see that it's just after 6 AM—Seokjin is still fast asleep. You slowly make your way to the door, quietly open it, and discover that both children are also sound asleep. Suddenly, you get an idea.

You smile to yourself, gently close the door, and lock it to ensure that you have some uninterrupted time. Then, you crawl back into bed and nudge Seokjin awake.

He opens his sleepy eyes to find you staring at him, your smile with a hint of mischief.

"Good morning," he mumbles mid-yawn and rubs his eyes.

"Hi. Want to have sex before the kids wake up?" you ask without hesitation.

It takes him a few beats to realize what you’re asking him. "Are you serious?" He frowns.

Your face falls; it wasn't the reaction you expected. "Oh--"

"What do you think?" he asks sarcastically. "When have I ever told you, 'No, I have a headache or my back hurts. It's too hot out or too cold. The kids wore me out today; My mom is sick; Diane is going through a divorce; My foot hurts, my hair hurts,'" he grumbles comically.

Sure, some of it is true, but you can't help but laugh at his ability to find humor in it.

"Baby, I don't need to be seduced. You’re my wife! All you've got to say is 'wanna fuck?'" he says at the end of his tirade.

You look at him pointedly and ask, "Okay, so...wanna fuck?"

He stares at you blankly for a second then rolls his eyes. "Yes, of course!" he says enthusiastically.

You suppress a giggle but fail as you watch him frantically push his boxers down and kicks them off. "Oh-oh…right now, huh?" You burst into laughter at his eagerness and take it as a cue to undress.

He begins to slide under the covers, parting your legs slightly so he could eat you out, but grab his shoulder to stop him.

“We don’t have time for that,” you caution him. “Besides, I’m already wet.”

He smirks playfully, sliding his fingers between your folds to double check. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pumps his fingers in and out of your entrance, taking a few moments to tease your clit.

“Jiiin…come onnn, please. Before Yuna starts banging on the door.” You could feel it in your bones. Every time you started fooling around at home, thinking your kids were sound asleep in their rooms, they would prove you wrong. Suddenly, you'd hear a little voice on the other side of the door, asking why it was locked. You could swear they had spider-senses or something.

“I just wanted a little taste,” he says before withdrawing his fingers to bring it up to his mouth to lick them clean.

Watching him drag his tongue to lap up your arousal turns you on to the point of no return. “Jin!” You whine, reminding him that you had a very small window of opportunity.

“Okay, okay,” he says gently before shifting his body to slot himself between your legs. “Ready for me?”

You nod and he braces himself. He sees you inhale sharply, and slides his length into your slick heat at the same time. As you exhale, the contact brings a different kind of high that electrifies you to the core.

You rock your hips to meet each thrust from him. Looking into your eyes, he tells you how beautiful you look and the way you're coming apart underneath him makes his cock harder. You pull his neck to bring his mouth down to yours, muffling your moans. He's hitting you exactly where you need him to.

Not a minute later, your back arches off the mattress as he swallows your orgasmic groans. He pounds into you, desperate to chase his own high. He buries his face into your shoulder as he empties himself into you.

You take a few seconds to nuzzle into each other, appreciating these rare but quiet moments where you can reconnect. It's a reminder that even though you have two children that take front and center nearly every waking day, your relationship will always take precedence.

"I don't hear them yet. Want to go get cleaned up first? I can go after you," he offers.

"Yeah," you answer, then give him a quick peck on the lips. You wince a little when he pulls out. You swiftly roll out of bed and dash into the bathroom for a shower.

After cleaning up, he pulls his boxers on and quietly unlocks the door, and leaves it ajar as if nothing happened. Just as he turns around to make the bed, your two children come barreling into the bedroom.

You laugh in the midst of rinsing off as you overhear them on the other side of the bathroom door, demanding breakfast.

Nothing Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging:@internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @yoongukie-ff @majamarantha

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts seokjin #ksj fluff #ksj smut #nothing x ksj

[oftenderweapons]

Down The Rabbit Hole | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Fawn)

Wordcount: 12.5k

Genre: one shot, pwp, smut, fluff, only mild angst, fwb au (?) kinda(?)?, divorced! seokjin, dilf!seokjin

Rating: 18+, minors please do not read or interact

Synopsis: Seokjin has been meeting Fawn at The Rabbit Hole for a while now. A place of debauchery and foregone inhibitions, and yet only one rule would not budge. Will Fawn finally have a taste of the forbidden fruit?

Warnings: DILF!Seokjin (it's a trigger warning in and of itself), oral sex (female receiving, attempt at male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), degradation kink, corruption kink, handcuffs, sex toys (vaginal sphere), dry humping, unprotected sex, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breast slapping, voyeurism & exhibitionism. Mentions of divorce procedures, mentions of Seokjin's three precious daughters. Brief cameo of our lovely darlings Namjoon & Mia.

As always, thanking the magical girlie that made this fic a bit more coherent @nervous-moon and the special friends that made me get here. Also, a special thank you to past me, who persevered and got off birth control for this fic LOL

As always, please remember that showing some love to fics will power authors through the major struggles of this platform and will eventually make them write bigger, better, bolder fics 💕

You’ve known Seokjin for two months. He’s stunning, he’s smart, he’s friendly and adorably chirpy — before the games begin.

Here's my masterlist, enjoy you spicy little nuggets

Read more of this AU | MYG | KNJ

You’ve known Seokjin for two months. He’s stunning, he’s smart, he’s friendly and adorably chirpy — before the games begin. 

Once you’re in the room, the sweet father-of-three turns into a man with no restraints. He has an appetite for all things cunning and controlling. 

He tells you how to do things. He tells you when, for how long. Harder, faster, rougher, deeper. 

He always asks for more, 

He is insatiable and ruthless. 

However, despite what that introduction might make it sound, there’s so much more of him you haven’t had: all your previous encounters were only foreplay. 

His list of previous inhibitions was so long that in two three-hour-long sessions you hadn’t yet tackled anything regarding his dick inside your vagina — truly a shame, since that’s a perfectly beautiful, perfectly thick, perfectly long dick, and you would know since you’ve acquainted with it through your hands, mouth and boobs. 

Seokjin is the most promising man you’ve never had sex with; that is, you’ve had sex with plenty of mediocre men, and a couple good ones, you’ve double checked handfuls of men on the streets, but he’s by far the one you can bet will give you the ride of your life. You don’t know why, you just know.

And maybe, if you’re lucky enough, that will happen tonight. 

“Here’s my pretty fawn,” he says once he notices you at a corner table, out of the main floor where people are starting to mingle. He kisses the too of your head. “How were these weeks apart?”

“Hi,” you tell him, and from the little somersault of your rib cage, you can tell the distance did make the heart grow fonder. “It was chaotic, but I survived.”

“You’re a tough cookie, Fawn. By now you should know there’s nothing you can’t overcome if you put your mind to it,” he says, proud, reassuring. 

It’s the same tone he uses for ‘you take it so well” and ‘that’s my golden girl’ and ‘come on, Fawn, just one more, sweetheart’.

You melt. You know you melt, and your body betrays you because you can feel the heaviness in your lower belly, and you can tell that your core will be coated in wetness in about eight seconds. 

“As for my past few days, I’ve been busy, as usual.”

“How are the girls?” you ask, eager to imagine more bits of them. 

“Lily is turning ten next week, as I told you. Rose is getting better at biking, and soon we’ll be able to go for short outings in public together, And then darling Daisy has just called a truce with spinach so we have added one more ingredient to our weekly rotation.” As Seokjin talks about his daughters, something in his face lights up and you can imagine the man he must be outside these walls, far from the reign of debauchery he slips into once every other week. A dedicated man, committed, domestic, devoted. He smiles when he talks about his girls, his whole world brightens, like they were his personal constellation showing him the way. 

“Did you recover from our last session?” he asks, concerned, meek, respectful. He is so kind to you, always. 

“I did…” You keep it vague because telling him that you've been laying on your back, fucking yourself with your largest toy, gasping and hiccuping his name doesn't feel like a productive angle for an answer. Not the kind of answer you want to give him in public anyways. 

“Any notes about what we did last time? Anything relevant we should renegotiate?” 

I want us to walk through the door tonight and I want you to throw me on the bed, bend me over, lift my skirt and fuck me straight up, because you are the reason I'm going commando under this effing tight dress, you try to tell him with your eyes, the tilt of your head, the little lick of your lips and the light bite at your lower one. 

“No, nothing relevant, really.” 

He stares at your mouth for a hot second, and you can only hope he's thinking about the last time he's come on it. 

“So you want…” He hesitates as he thinks about the next step. “You wanna keep this foreplay only.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, then you take a sip of your drink, and click your tongue a couple times, as if trying to savour the wine. “You're the one in command. You know that.” 

“I command you when you're naked. And you're dressed now, alas.” He cocks an eyebrow right back at you, mirroring your sarcastic snare. “And this is a matter of consent and limits, which means we're equals right now. The games haven't yet begun, Fawn.”

You look around, as if the other clients could possibly help you in this situation. 

You want him, you're dying to have him, and if he could bend you over, spank you and fuck you right over one of the entrance tables, you'd let him. 

You'd probably also let him come inside, or do other slightly demeaning acts to humiliate you. 

“We can play it however it lays, no pressure.” That's what you tell him, really trying not to betray your true intentions. 

“Do you, or do you not?” he asks, and you do feel pressured. 

“What do you want me to say?” You provoke him, staring him down. “Because this is sounding like you have indeed an answer you want to hear from me.” 

He shakes his head, exasperated. “Fawn. You don't usually struggle with telling me what you want. You want foreplay or you want us to fuck?” 

“Either is fine. We'll see that later.” You down more of your drink and he stares at your throat as you swallow. You catch him staring and you feel heat creep to your cheeks, but you’re not embarrassed, rather pleased with his distraction. 

Too bad you’re not him and you can’t tell he’s been sizzling with want for days. He’s been separated for years now, but with the divorce practice being completed in a few weeks, he’d been more tense than usual. He knows he’s doing the right thing leaving his marriage behind, however the idea of raising three daughters alone, and giving his ex-wife the chance to start the kind of life she’s been too ashamed to pursue is terrifying. 

Lily, Rose and Daisy are the joy of his life, but soon Lily will enter adolescence and her mother will be there for her, sure, but he’s been the one consistently raising them for the past five years, almost turning into a stay-at-home dad for them, while Ara was busy rebuilding her career and travelling and saving money to afford moving out by herself. 

He supported her. Their marriage had ended for all the best — though most painful —  reasons: they didn’t love each other anymore, not as partners at least. He could tell she was no longer happy, she hadn’t been since Rose had been born. Daisy was probably the last straw. He’d rather have his girls having a happy mother than have a miserable spouse for himself and a mediocre parent for his children. And he knew the girls would learn the right lesson from this: you can only be loved right when the one you love knows how to love themselves. 

Plus, he could tell he hadn’t been loving Ara right for a while. He could bring himself to stay loyal to her and respect her and be there for her; still, he also knew he owed himself actual happiness, and he would be a coward if he refused to go look for it because he was afraid of not finding it, or getting hurt in the process. 

And now you’ve entered the picture. He’s seen a bunch of people before you, but he knew they weren’t quite right — he’d even issued post-session feedback where he stated he didn’t want to be matched again with two of the women he’d spent the night with. 

He’d entered the Rabbit Hole with the purpose of some light-hearted fun with other adults who, like him, had already seen a fair share of life and could also have the same mature and intellectual approach towards intimacy. 

A friend of his had driven him here after a particularly bad date with a woman almost twelve years younger than him who seemed more interested in being the girls’ mother than his girlfriend first. 

Being honest, he’d spotted you the first time he’d seen you at the Rabbit Hole, but he’d never pursued you because he believed in the system matching him according to his profile. He assumed you wanted something off-limits to him — maybe you were into getting your partner tied up, or leashed like a pet, or entirely enslaved — but apparently it was just a matter of letting the match play itself. 

It happened around his fifth or sixth party: he had entered the foyer thinking he would once more spend his pregame staring at you from the opposite table, drinking, getting riled up at the thought of you kneeling before him, his dick in your mouth. He had fixed his trousers and headed to the room at the sound of the bell, and a few minutes later, as the lock turned and the door opened, he had found you there, with your pretty doll mouth and your plush cheeks and your round, doe eyes, innocence personified. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask him, your fingers tracing his elbow, calling for his attention. 

He shakes his head. “I’m thinking of the first time we matched.”

You smile, then catch your lower lip between your teeth. “Interesting.”

He takes hold of your hand, so gentle, then caresses your knuckles, the touch as shy as a whisper. “What did you think of it?”

“The first time I saw you?” you ask, curious and surprised at his question. 

He nods and you giggle, embarrassed. “I had caught you staring a few times before. I was intrigued.”

He gives a bright, although secret smile, and his fingers flirt with yours, dancing in between each other. The mere touch of his hand against your own is turning you on. 

“I was wondering if I’d ever match with you. If we didn’t because you were into hardcore stuff, or maybe you wanted to dominate and I was not… I’m not submissive.” His eyes play hide and seek with yours, as if he were ashamed. 

“Well… That gives…” You let him hang in that pause for a few seconds, then give him the word, “It’s a new perspective.” You can feel him exhale in relief at that. “I wanted to see what you were into too. Too bad we were too shy to approach each other.”

“But apparently we were meant to meet.”

“Just a matter of time…” you tease him. 

That night, when you’d first met, you’d clicked immediately. In less than fifteen minutes, you were kissing, and within that first half hour, you’d never been happier to be naked with a man. 

He was attentive, touching and kissing places that almost no one had ever paid attention to. He tickled the back of your knees, and pressed the plush petals of his lips to the arch of your feet. He nipped at the edge of your ribs, and licked at the small dip at your hip, where the sinew of your quad attaches to the bone of your hip crest. He tugged at your earlobe with his teeth and dipped the tip of his tongue at the twin hollows at the base of your spine. 

When they talk about being worshipped like you were the only woman left on the face of earth, that’s probably what they mean. 

It made you really generous — the kind of generous that makes you end up on your knees with a very messy mouth. 

It was surprising, how you went on for one full hour dragging pleasure out of each other in an almost torturing way, so close to him entering you, and never doing so. 

At the end of that, you’d suggested staying till morning, but he’d explained how he was a single dad and he really should be there in the morning. 

“And that second time?” you tell him. 

He blushes to the tip of his ears and it makes you giggle sweetly. 

You’d entered the room already fully immersed in your role. You’d called him sir, made it clear you were his efficient, loyal assistant who’d been nursing a crush on him for so long. And he’d been playing along phenomenally, barking orders at you, and fucking your mouth, praising you so sweetly while mascara tears ran down your cheeks — just to draw a line when it came to him using you to cheat on his wife. 

The fantasy had been brusquely interrupted when you realised he could actually be cheating — he was a father after all, from what you’d understood. He was quick to explain he’d been separated and that was the best decision he and his ex-wife had taken; and he’d shown his interest in your game by returning to it by saying how his sweet secretary had come into his life to make him realise he’d never truly had passion with his wife. 

“You were surprising,” he admits. “Unexpectedly resourceful.”

Tonight the bell can’t ring soon enough. You just want to drag him to a dark corner and cover him in you. You want to rub yourself against him, all over him. You want to see him covered in your own wetness, and the lack of panties is only making you more sensitive. 

“Would you do it again? A little roleplay?” you ask him. 

He arches both eyebrows. “I thought I was clear about it. Adamantly, yes.”

“Hi there,” you hear, and turn around to be faced with two familiar faces. Right there, remnants of your third encounter with Seokjin. 

Namjoon and his Mia, the latest hype of the club. They’d been performing together for some months now, and everyone said their sessions were something else entirely. You and Seokjin had started your third encounter by watching them in the voyeur area; there, they could perform within the three walls of a private room and a large two-way mirror, behind which people could watch those who consensually exhibited their encounters.

“Lovely to see you, Mia,” you hugged the woman and kissed her on both cheeks. It could have been awkward to interact with someone you’ve watched having sex, but with her — maybe also thanks to the environment of the club — it was liberating, almost exciting.

Meanwhile Namjoon and Seokjin shook hands, starting to chat with ease. 

“So, how’s it going with your wet dream prince?” she asks, knowing perfectly well how long you’ve been pining for Seokjin. “Is he worth the hype?”

Your expression could be the definition of ‘the cat that got the cream’. 

“Girl, tone it down a notch,” Mia says playfully, hitting your arm. “Is it getting official or is it a no work all play kind of game?”

Your grin tones down a little. “He’s a father, Mia. He has obligations.” 

Her face looks entirely sympathetic. “I see. But there’s nothing wrong with asking, you know? If you’re interested…”

“I’ve got no interest in getting my heart broken,” you say, your tone final. “He needs to focus on his girls and only wants to relax and be selfish when he comes in here. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Mia shrugs and gives you a little curl of her lip. “I don’t think he sees you as a burden, but you should check that out. In person.”

“There’s other stuff I want to see in person, but it’s been…” You lower your voice to a whisper. “We’ve only kinda foreplayed so far.”

Mia tips her head to the side a little, as if confused. “Well. That's interesting. I mean, foreplay is the main act, if you ask me about it. I think—” She turns to the side and addresses Namjoon, “Darling, what would you think if we only did foreplay, no sex?” 

You feel your entire head explode with shame, and you assume Seokjin is having a similar reaction. 

“I would think you really like foreplay, or — given that this context calls for transgression — you've probably been raised to think that foreplay is taboo. Maybe it's something you've been deprived of, and here you want to claim it back.” Namjoon's hand lands on the small of Mia's back and from the way her eyes roll closed and her lips part softly, you can tell that his touch has a certain influence on her. “I know I don't usually deprive you of it, quite the contrary, but if it's affecting you so gravely tonight, then I might as well deliver.”

You look at Seokjin and he's giving you a certain look that you can't quite interpret. 

“You know, if my partner only wanted foreplay, I would simply assume that they really like it,” adds Seokjin, his gaze rolling off of you as he continues. “And that maybe sex is a meaningful experience to them, and they really want to work out all the kinks in it.” 

You stare at him, entirely too surprised at his comment, but he's looking at Namjoon this time. 

The man is giving him a sombre, polished look and you understand his appeal — too bad you've been captured in Seokjin’s orbit a long time ago. 

Within that expectant pause, the bell finally rings. 

Namjoon can't put his hands on Mia fast enough. The woman is thrown over his shoulder as soon as the bell stops ringing, and he's taking large strides towards the private wing. 

“Guess tonight is not for show,” you murmur, then turn to Seokjin. 

You're afraid he's going to chastise you for your confession to Mia, but he doesn't. He's giving you a blank look, his mind impenetrable. 

For a moment you think he's going to deny you, and frankly you wouldn't be too mad. He would be entirely too right, after you violated his trust and his privacy. 

“Seokjin, I—” 

“Behind closed doors, Fawn.” And he leaves you there. 

If you had any chance of going through this unpunished, that chance withered right about now — or rather, a minute ago with the ring of the bell. That's the signal for his personality switch and he's just flipped from cute and quirky father to demanding and domineering sex god. 

You watch him enter the private wing alone, and you can only hope for your room key to be matching his. 

Five agonising minutes later, you realise it does, and it takes you only half a second to realise that you're tragically unprepared for what's waiting for you. 

“On your knees,” he orders as soon as you walk through the door. “We're gonna bruise them tonight, Fawn.” 

You obey, any objection dead on the verge of your lips. 

“I thought I'd been clear about my intentions last time.” 

He had been, fairly so. He'd addressed the foreplay situation and he'd planned on going all the way, which was still sort of new to him, especially considering that he'd been with only three women except his ex wife. And then again, most of that stuff wasn't too daring an experience. He felt a little under pressure with you, and he knew he couldn't quite yet control himself when it came to seeing you naked, much less touching you. 

He had been taking his sweet time when his phone had started blaring. He'd taken five, maybe six seconds to understand what was happening, and then he'd dashed off you, picking up the phone. 

You'd been too confused to understand, and even when he explained, it took you five lonely and cold minutes abandoned alone on the bed to realise he'd left. 

Rose had apparently caught lice from a classmate, the nanny was on the verge of burning the house to the ground and Lily and Daisy were quite panicked by what was going on. Before you could get dressed, he was already on his way home doing damage control. 

“I have responsibilities, Fawn. You know that. I wouldn't have answered that phone call, and I would have taken proper care of you if it had been an option.” He lowers to you on the ground, pleased with the way your eyes look like dark beads of obsidian in the softly lit room. 

He was probably the one who asked for the fireplace to be lit and for a velvety alcove to be prepared right in front of it. 

“And I meant it when I said I wanted something special with you.” He grips your chin, angling your face so that the light from the fireplace can caress the apple of your cheek in a way that makes it most biteable. “I meant it when I said I want to do this right. We can have that now.” 

You lick your lips, trying to smoothen the ugly feeling of a dry mouth. It's hard to think and talk at the same time. 

“I appreciate that you're there for your girls, I just wish you hadn't left me hanging.” You sit on your heels, then shift on all fours and crawl a flirty half step his way, your lashes like expensive and seductive fans of ostrich feathers luring him in, caressing the most tender spots of his body with your gaze. 

You're pleased to notice he's entirely charmed by your allure. 

“I won't deny you tonight, fawn,” he says. “I might as well give it to you right away.” His hand dives for your hair and grips it at the base, giving two subtle and suggestive tugs. You feel a low purr emerge from your throat and he smiles. “Welcome back, my naughty girl.” 

You crawl one more step in the direction he drew you to, and he understands that you got his message. He rises to his feet, then dives his fingers once more in your hair and leads you to the plush lair sprawled in front of the fire.

“Such an obedient little pet,” he praises you. “I wonder what you got for me tonight.” 

He's used to sexy little lingerie numbers — stuff with lots of lace and lots of ribbons. What he's not expecting is for you to drop your chest to the floor, arch your ass up in the air and expose your naked, blooming folds. “I thought I might surprise you for the night.”

Seokjin takes a few seconds to realise there's no g-string, no thong, no wicked contraption waiting to trick him.

Just naked truth, wet, warm skin, laying there for him to claim. 

“Naughty indeed.” He kneels behind you, and he's tempted to rub himself against you and slip inside you after you've begged and prayed and cried for a while; however, he's under the impression that's exactly the game you want him to play.

So he simply sinks his teeth into your ass cheek, then licks the bite away.

“Stay right there.” And he disappears. 

Footsteps echo around the room, then you hear the slide of a drawer. 

He's probably choosing his instrument for the night, and you're aching to turn around and see what he's inspecting. 

You'd also pay good money to know what he felt when he found you naked. 

You'd mostly pay all the money to know what it takes to lose a man like him. 

But that's another story, one that you don't intend to follow, especially since Seokjin is returning to you. 

“We're gonna train you for me.” He kneels behind you and the feel of something extremely cold against your folds causes you to arch your spine up to the ceiling, your pelvis moving away from the sensation.

Seokjin, however, is merciless. With his forearm braced against the middle of your spine, he forces you to arch your spine back down, your entrance bared to him in a lewd, unmistakable way. 

“I want to fuck you with my tongue. You look like dessert covered in icing. You're gleaming with arousal.” And as he talks, he keeps sliding the sphere up and down your folds, your skin so disturbingly sensitive. 

At some point, your hips escape your control and you tilt your ass further up to the ceiling, chasing Seokjin's hand in hope he'll offer you some reprieve. 

But he doesn't. 

Instead he slides something warm and thin inside you, that wiggles and then unfortunately, sadly retreats. 

You only have the time for a hiccup of disappointment before he returns to toy with your folds. 

Seokjin watches you writhe as he sucks on the finger he just extracted from your cunt. It makes him feel powerful, but most importantly, it makes him feel alive. It makes him feel wanted. 

It makes him feel like his own needs matter, that he comes first, which is not an ordinary feeling for a father of three. 

He loves this about you: you put his needs first and you don't make him feel bad about it — that is, he doesn't feel bad about coming first with you. Maybe that's also the reason why he's reluctant about introducing you to his family life. He doesn't need a nanny, or a cook or a housekeeper. He just wants someone he can enjoy those crumbles of spare time he has for himself. 

He freezes. 

Someone to date. 

Realisation is like a mirror shattering to the floor, each shard reflecting one different aspect of him. Father, ex-husband, manager, employer and employee, overachiever, knight-in-shining-armour, but also, somewhere, needy, dark overlord. 

He is all of that. And he is curious about seeing whichever many ways you can stand by his side in every role. 

“Seokjin,” you whisper, barely a moan. You try to lift your hand from where it fell before, abandoned on the lush carpet below you, but it lands again, and grips whatever it can as he slips one sphere inside. 

“There, Fawn. What is it?” He chuckles and the sound that follows — the silvery tinkling of a belt — is like mockery to your ears. 

“Bet this isn’t enough, huh?” He stares at you, at your position on the floor, cheek pressed to the carpet, dress pulled up, and shakes his head. He’d never have thought he could enjoy this, and yet… He loves this. He’s hard from this. 

He kneels down, rotulae hitting the floor with a mildly disturbing thud. He rolls up the hem of his button down, dick so hard it’s reaching his navel. He grips your hip and pulls you closer, the heat of your ass slamming against his hips. 

You gasp. It’s finally happening, you tell yourself. 

“Why so quiet, darling?” he says, bending over, speaking against the shell of your ear. “I thought you’d at least thank me, you know?”

Rubbing your ass against him gives you a rough estimation of how he’d fit against you, inside you. 

He teases his tip against your entrance, slow and wet. The sound of it is slick and lewd, and he can swear it’s the best he’s ever had. 

“Please,” you manage to squeak out, so pathetic, and even needier than that. 

He makes a weird sound in his throat, like a muffled groan, and it makes you even wetter. As your muscles clench, you feel the sphere inside you readjust, massaging a different corner of your inner walls, and it steals a hum of pleasure out of you, a guttural sound, something as animalistic as your current position. 

“Just the tip,” you beg, your voice weak, frayed at the edges. 

You expect him to mock you and deprive you, but the heat of him corrects its trajectory and it’s right up against your centre. 

“How can I not…” he murmurs. “You’re here. Ass up like a bitch in heat.”

Heat bubbles to your cheeks and your back arches even further, offering yourself up. You’re even more embarrassed, but there’s no need to run from him. 

Not after you’ve seen his eyes flicker, wicked, as he cleaned your orgasm from his chin with the back of his hand; not after he’s stuck his fingers in your mouth, his cum still dripping from them, in an attempt to quiet you down from screaming his name through your orgasm. 

“I can’t wait to see how dirtier you can get,” he tells you, then grabs your earlobe with his teeth, tugging a little. 

Saying you grind yourself against him is the largest understatement you could ever concoct. You hump in the most unmistakable way you can. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me. How much longer do you want me to—?”

And he dips in. Just dips, really. Only the tip. “God. Tight,” he gasps. 

You try to push yourself up against him, make him sink deeper, faster. You want to ride him. You want to be the one doing the fucking. 

He can lay back and enjoy, for all that matters — you’re sure you can bounce on his dick until your thighs cramp and you collapse on his chest. And at that point, if he hasn’t come yet, you’re pretty sure you can roll over and he can take over.

“Too greedy, my pretty fawn.” 

And he moves back. Away. 

“You’re gonna make me fold, Fawn,” he whispers. “Too soon.”

And he stands. And there’s that silvery tickling again. 

“No,” you cry out. You turn and rise, just in time to catch him tucking his shirt in. 

Your ass plops down to rest on your heels and you feel tears of frustration bubble up against your lower lashes. “No, please.”

“Too soon, sweet cheeks. Now get back in position.”

You frown. “But—” 

“Fawn, darling.” He gives you a patient look, so sweet, so understanding. 

God, he must be such a good dad, you think for half a second. “But Jin—”

“You know I’m gonna take care of you. Now, if you do as I tell you, we can get this—”

Something vicious snarls inside you. You’re not sure where it comes from, but you bark out, “No.”

Seokjin arches one beautiful eyebrow. “Come again, darling?”

“I said no.”

“Bend over, Fawn.”

You can barely keep a straight face as you finally say, “Make me.”

Seokjin shakes his head. He knows he’s gonna love this. “That's it.” On the inside he's glowing with joy, but he cannot show that, he must punish you. 

Except he knows you love this too. 

He grabs your hair and moves you so that he can make sure you're not going to hurt yourself if you fall: he will be cuffing your hands behind your back, which means you wouldn’t be able to stop your fall if you were to lose your balance, and he needs to be careful.

You're still kneeling on the ground when he lowers himself and uses his own torso to push your own to the plush carpet in front of the fireplace. 

“And now stay. You're playing with fire, Fawn.” 

You feel him step back and remove himself, and you're tempted to disregard his petty request and follow him to the drawer. 

Except you don't, because you know you're already getting what you wanted. And you can still rouse him later if he's not sufficiently harsh. 

“God to know you can still follow a basic, easy order, darling.” The first cuff snaps around your left wrist, and he slips two fingers between your flesh and the metal to make sure it isn't too tight on you. He repeats the same procedure with the other wrist, and the gentle way he checks makes you want to submit immediately. 

He suspends the scene just enough to kiss your palm before caressing the curve of your bottom. “If you want to safeword, remember it's your right, and you can do so at any moment,” he reminds you, practical and kind. 

“I will if I need to,” you say, reassuring him, but also trying to move on to the actual scene. 

“Good. Cause I want you to remember about tonight every time you walk or sit in the next three days.” 

Your stomach knots, awaiting, and you wiggle your ass in the air, your torso still disappointingly clothed. “All I hear is empty threats.” 

That's when the first slap hits. 

It's Seokjin's hand against your ass, but it's harsh and angry, and you know you're going to get exactly what you wanted. 

The impact makes your insides clench, and the sphere shifts against your inner walls. 

You hum in pleasure, your fingers twitching as you try to make the sensation bearable. 

It's truly torture. You're wet, and this weight inside you keeps massaging you, taunting you suggestively. 

“This what you want?” Seokjin asks you, and you nod, knowing that you can tell him, you can trust him. That he will give you more of it because this is all about trusting each other, and giving each other pleasure, and just—

“Fawn. I swear I'm gonna fuck you tonight. But for the love of fuck I need to take the edge off myself or I'm gonna be pathetic.” 

You're currently spooning on all fours, you propped on your knees, breastbone and cheek, while he’s caging you in from above, his thighs bracketing yours, one of his arms pinned just beside your shoulder, the other hand free to roam. 

And right now it lands right on your pubic bone, the ball of his palm resting right against your pelvis. The moment he starts drawing slow circles on your clit, finding just the right spot, your body gives in, and some grinding resumes. 

“You're so fucking hard,” you tell him, and you know just how banal your statement is, but historically, you're not usually smart when he's coercing orgasms out of you, especially with his fingers. 

You grow dumb. 

Your brain can only focus on sensation. 

And there's the sphere situation happening too, just to complicate this further. 

“I told you I need to take the edge off.” 

“You can come on me, you know?”

He chuckles. “Oh darling, that one you'd made clear already.” He registers your sharp inhale and moves more delicately. “Do you need me to slow down?” 

It makes you snort a little petty laugh. “No, it's just—” You release an exhale and move against him more openly, unbridled and luxuriant. “It's strange with the sphere.”

“I just want you to be all relaxed and warmed up when I slip inside you,” he tells you. 

“And I think I'll have to get you some kegel balls. So you can train during the week, when we don't meet.” He kisses your spine and your eyes roll closed. 

All you need is the sensations he's giving you, your body awakening piece by piece. It's like every molecule of you is finding new meaning, new depth, new sensitivity. 

You've never been so aware of each muscle pulling taut. 

“Seokjin,” you whisper, and he hums, he realises you called him and he replies simply, but neither of you can really string words together at this point. 

“Jin… If you—” You're trying to connect word after word, looking for meaning, but your tongue is uncooperative, and you can't quite make sounds into words. 

You want him to keep going. You really do. 

But you also need to take one or fifteen breaths because this is getting too good — maybe too important too. Because you want him now, but it also dawns on you, quite rudely, that you want him all the time. That you've been thinking about him too much lately, even when it's a silly sweet nothing like ordering pizza or washing the sheets. 

What kind of pizza does he like most? 

Would he like the smell of my sheets? Would he find them too light? Too warm? Not soft enough? 

Does he shower warm or cold? 

He moans your name and you shake your thoughts awake — as awake and aware as you can be underneath him.

“Are you close?” he asks, and you know you are, but you can't quantify how long it's going to take you. You were closer for sure before your thoughts had wandered towards the day-to-day life of him.

It's so strange that you would need to focus to stay tethered to your own pleasure; however, quite disappointingly, that's the way it seems. 

“I don't know,” you tell him, not bothering to hide your perplexity. 

“Okay,” he says calmly, then he sucks at the curve of your neck, where it meets your shoulder. “I'll be good,” he says, like a promise. 

You're not used to this amount of patience from him, to this pliability. 

He lifts off of you, his thigh still aligned with yours as his torso separates from your back, then suddenly a liquid coldness spreads over your ass cheeks, and you feel him shudder. 

You turn, curiosity picked by that unexpected feeling, and you spot a bottle of lubricant in your peripherals. Makes sense. 

His hands immediately land on your glutes, spreading the liquid, and he hisses as his dick meets the cold. 

Soon, however, the lube is warmed by the heat of your own skin and he finds himself grinding against you, needy and rough. He grabs at your hips guiding you as you move up against him. 

“Touch yourself, Fawn,” he orders, and you don't make him tell you twice. 

The idea of him using your body, and finding pleasure in it, and marking it as his own arouses you desperately.

You want to be his, and you want to pleasure him. You want to be the thought he conjures about next time he's had a rough day and simply wants to jerk off. You want to be the one he dreams about while he's lost in his huge bed, humping a pillow in his sleep. You want to be the reason he's late in the morning because he caught a thought of you in the shower and he couldn't keep his hands to himself. 

Ultimately, you want to be the reason why this accomplished, bright man gets a little messy once in a while.

You want to be the motive behind his little crimes. You want to be his gateway to temporary thoughtlessness. You want him to be as human, as fallible, as exhausted, as despicable as he needs to be and never allows himself to be. 

You wish to liberate him. 

“I'm gonna—” The words die on his lips as he finally spills against you, your orgasm once more incumbent but also far removed, as if that very close destination could only be reached by an impractically long journey. 

You hear him come, disappointed by the lack of closeness between the two of you, by the fact that this position doesn't allow you to kiss his mouth, or quieten him down, or watch him frantically reach for your breast with his lips so he can muffle his cries against your chest. 

“I thought I had more in me,” he says. “I’m sorry.” 

You assume he's referring to this night. Maybe he's done. Maybe he's not thinking about you at all. 

Maybe he just wants to be serviced, and he's realised just now, and you're on your way to be dismissed.

“It's okay,” you tell him, but you're pretty sure your disappointment bled through the words. Your logical brain is telling you that he’s just referring to coming this fast and not dealing with you first, but you’ve discovered you’re not strong on logic when it comes to him. 

Too bad you can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s embarrassed, and breathless, and truly madly deeply blaming himself for putting you through such a sorry mess. 

Such a disappointment. 

He wants to make it up to you. And he starts doing so with slow, gentle kisses on your nape, a gentle caress of his fingertips moving your hair to the side. 

Dammit, he loves your hair. So soft, and always smelling like vanilla. 

It makes him want to keep you on his lap all the time, so he can dive his nose in it when he’s feeling stressed, inhale you and get high from it. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says simply, studying the viola-like shape of your torso, still wrapped in the tight fabric of your dress. His hands glide reverently from the edges of your shoulders to the narrowing of your waist, admiring your back, then slide to your navel, on your front, climbing back up so he can cup the roundness of your breasts. “The geometry of you… If you could see yourself…” 

He can’t ever bring himself to finish one damn thought. The sight of you gives him no reprieve: he’s entirely overstimulated by everything you offer to him, defeated, even, by it. 

His fingers tease your nipples through your dress and your insides clench from it, the kegel ball rolling inside you and making you purr from him. He smiles and brings himself back on track. 

No distractions this time, he scolds himself, and his body bows off of you. He backs up slowly, unrushed pecks of his lips climbing down the ladder of your vertebrae, and in the meanwhile he undoes the handcuffs. 

You would maybe complain if it weren’t for the fact that you trust him with your own pleasure, blindly.

When the salt of his spilled orgasm meets his parted lips, he lets his tongue slip out, giving a full sweep of a lick, lush, wet and hot. 

You shudder. “What you up to?” you ask, surprised, confused, almost coherent. 

“Just a casual snack,” he murmurs against your wet skin. “It’s not like I’m done with you here.”

You chuckle, nervous, but also thankful. Your heartbreak has been postponed. You push your body back, trying to move closer to him in whatever intuitive way you can. You turn your face on the other side as you know that by now there must be an imprint of the carpet against your cheek. 

The blaze coming from the fireplace in the distance warms your face, and once your eyes roll closed, you realise just how pleasant it is to vaguely perceive the orange of the fire from the back of your eyelids. The flames whisper like lovers, like a hushed breathing sound, like exhales and inhales sharply syncopating each other. Then there’s the cracking of the logs, which perfectly echoes and alternates with the sound of Seokjin’s wet kisses, the clicking of his tongue, and the sucking. 

The sensations come in so sharply in the empty space you’ve carved for yourself. It’s like you’ve muted the rest of the world except Seokjin and that eyeless voyeur that is the fire. 

When Seokjin speaks again, it surprises you and causes a somersault to your stomach, for his voice his so deep and quiet and intimate. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever heard from him. 

“Spread your pretty thighs for me, darling.”

You can tell you just gushed out more wetness at your core. That’s what he can get from you, just by using his voice alone. 

As soon as you follow his order, he lays with his back on the floor, the width of his shoulders finding its slot in between your parted knees. His hands find your butt and he uses it to readjust your stance. 

“Won't you give me just a taste, darling, please?” he says, and you adore just how imploring he is, but at the same time smooth and gallant too.

You love it when he asks you, all chivalrous, about treating you like his own personal slut. 

He kisses the inside of your thigh and you find your thighs spreading even further, as you lower your hips a tiny inch closer to the floor — or rather, closer to his awaiting mouth. 

“I swear I'm gonna beg if I have to, Fawn. Fucking please.” 

He twists his head to the other side and bites the soft flesh on the inside of your leg. His teeth sink gently, sending sparks of pleasure all over your body. “Won't you put me out of my misery, darling?” 

“I love it when you beg,” you admit, propping your front up on your elbows first, then on your palms. “It's different from your usual demanding self.”

Your eyes meet his and you notice a spark of uncertainty there. “Do you want me to be harsher? To command you?” 

You smile meekly, fondly. “I like you best precisely the way you are.” 

You can't see it in the penumbra, but heat has crept to his cheeks, and it's mostly your compliments' fault.

He grabs your waist, appreciating how easily his thumb and forefinger rest at its narrowest point, then invites you to lower your pelvis some more.

At this point, you find yourself more comfortable in a kneeling position, your chest lifted, your thighs in a slightly narrower stance as you lower your ass to his chest, your weight still partially held by your hands, propped on the floor near your knees. 

He doesn't speak before he acts. He simply grabs your ass again and zeroes in with his lips on your clitoris. 

Bliss is instantaneous. 

He starts torturing you immediately with long sucking motions, driving you insane, and when you try to remove yourself, he doesn't allow you to. 

Your brain immediately recalls your safeword, but you can't find the final straw that urges you to use it.

You're feeling pleasure— no, actually you are pleasure. 

It blooms from you immediately, six or seven slow, stubborn licks after. You brace yourself for the tide rising, but you can't resist it anyway, and soon you find yourself fucking his face, so sexy as it appears in between your naked parted thighs, your dress still on, hitched up around your waist. 

His eyes are closed, as if he were feeling it too. He’s the picture of passion, entirely dedicated, single-minded about your ecstasy. 

As you’re coming down, you reach for his hair with your left hand, your fingers digging through his luscious locks, tugging just the way he likes, with intention, but also not too roughly. You expect him to back off, but he opens his eyes, stares at your open mouth, at your feverish gaze— and keeps going. 

You swear as he starts veering into overstimulation, his nails digging in your ass. 

Pleasure becomes pain, which feeds pleasure even further. 

Fire blooms inside you, its many tongues setting each of your limbs ablaze. 

The second orgasm comes with a scream — your own — and some moaning from Seokjin which only confirms a certain sense of accomplishment. 

Meanwhile the kegel ball has warmed to your inner heat, your muscles constricting around it in a vicious grip, giving you that fullness that is enough to enhance your pleasure without truly fulfilling it. 

“God, more, please…”

Seokjin chuckles, bathing your inner thighs in soft kisses and sweet little bites. “I love it when you call me god.”

You sit yourself back on his face and giggle. “Oh, shut up.”

His arms tighten like a vice around your legs, his hands pushing your dress further up, exposing the hill of your pelvis, just above the parting of your labia. 

He lands some kisses there, sucking, enjoying the soft, plump skin, and the plumpness he leaves in his wake. 

Heat rushes wild under the flesh he kisses, sensitivity heightened, capillaries blooming with fullness. 

“Lower yourself to the floor, pretty thing,” he hums, and he’s so cruelly persuasive that you obey, your shoulders pressed to the back of your hands, elbows tucked in tight by the sides of your waist. “As low as you can, Fawn,” he recommends. 

Once you do, he gives a powerful swing with his shoulders, causing you to swap positions so that your back ends up on the floor and he is finally on top of you. 

“Back the way it's supposed to be,” he says, at once free to exercise all the control he needs. “I'm not even sure I need you naked,” he says, kissing your navel, the crests of your hips, the junction between your thighs and your hips. 

He lifts the hem of your dress, the stretchy knit giving him room to stick his head under the fabric. 

He attaches himself to your nipple as soon as he finds it, his hand climbing up to your chest and starting to toy with your other breast. 

“You could also undress me, you know,” you tease him, but apparently he is really busy and your spine is arching off the floor, and you can feel the wetness of his mouth against the precious lace of your bra. 

“Shut up,” he says, his voice lost in bliss, and he's moving the cup of your bra just below your breast, baring your nipple. “I'll be busy for the next three working days. Do not call me, email me, or text me. I'm worshipping nipples.” 

You laugh and you suddenly clench at the way the laughing twists the sensation of his sucking your breast, making it a fluttery and yet intense feeling. 

He gets his head out of your dress and kisses your neck instead. “I really like this dress,” he tells you. “I also really like the lack of panties, though that must have been slightly uncomfortable.” 

“It felt a little bit weird, yes. I was afraid I was going to flash someone.” 

He chuckles, then freezes. “You might have. Are you sure you haven't?” 

Feeling him all serious, you become serious too. “I don't know?” You start worrying a little. Would that be a violation to the rules of the club? 

“You're telling me someone else might have seen this?” He cups your vulva with his hand, and the pressure is mind-numbing. It takes you maybe two or three seconds to respond, your thoughts like arrows that deviate their trajectory towards your crotch. 

“Seokjin, I—” 

He sticks two fingers inside you and tightens his grip on you. “Fawn. This. This belongs to me. Okay?” 

You shiver at how stern he sounds. “Yes.”

“Do you understand?” 

“Yes, I do.”

Seokjin nods to himself. “Good. Now get out of this damn dress.” 

“You, get out of your clothes too,” you order, trying to be just as stern, but he laughs at you, rubbing your G-spot inside you. 

“I think your silly, sex-addled brain got confused.” He grips your face with his free hand, squishing your cheeks together. “I tell you what to do, Fawn. And you do it.” 

You're taken aback by just how patronising his words are. How silly and insignificant they make you feel. How even wetter you get. 

You arch off the carpet and slip your dress off, tugging and pulling, until your body is finally free. 

Seokjin studies the way the fire dances on your skin, the way your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breathing. 

“Good girl, Fawn.” He leans over and kisses your breast, then gives a fat lick to the sensitive skin before blowing over it in a way that makes you shiver. “So fucking sensitive.” 

He's beginning to undo his shirt, towering over you as he sits up on his knees and lets his fingers make a quick work of the buttons, his teal satin shirt coming undone quickly. 

He manages to shrug it off easily, the expanse of his chest finally emerging in front of you. He notices how enchanted you are by it, how mesmerised. 

The contrast between the fairness of his skin and the raspberry pink of his nipples is stark and seductive. You now understand colour theory and why animals always eat at the brightest-coloured fruit. 

You sit up, leaning on your hands, your mouth searching for his chest, but with a finger pressed to your sternum he pushes you back down. 

“Sit still for a second, for fuck’s sake,” he scolds you, then tries to get rid of his trousers, which proves to be truly challenging in a kneeling position. 

He tuts, frustrated, then convinces himself to stand back up, finally pushing his trousers and briefs down, shimmying out of them too in an attempt to get naked faster. 

You’re already on your knees in front of him, waiting, lips parted, hoping he’s going to use your mouth for his pleasure, and you try to invite him to, kissing his thigh, caressing it with your teeth, then giving it a kittenish lick. 

He grabs you by the cheeks, then forces you to look up at him. “I thought you were a smart, obedient girl, Fawn. Are you not?”

You’re still kneeling in front of him, mouth parted, eyes wide aimed at his face. You try to appear as dollish and harmless as possible. 

“I wouldn’t like to think wanting to get fucked turned you into a silly girl, mh?”

He’s so hard, right in front of you, and the sphere inside you is not enough, not anymore. You need him moving in and out of you. You need fullness, you need to be more than what you can take. 

You need him rough, needy, harsh, unforgiving, relentless and fastidiously specific about how he wants to fuck you.

You can almost put your mouth on him. Almost. 

You frown. “Please,” you whine, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue. 

He smiles, then snorts. “So desperate…”

Your inner muscles flutter at his cocky tone. 

He kneels back, at your same height. “Spread your legs, love,” he tells you, and you keen at the pet name, which makes him caress your cheek fondly. “Come on, let me fuck you, Fawn.”

You part your knees further and his hand slips from your cheeks to your chin, then to your neck, gripping it suggestively, then caresses your breast and follows the axis of your midriff, twirls around your navel and settles at your pubis. 

You wet your lips again, your breath caught in your throat, your gaze tantalised by the movement of his hands. 

He spreads your labia, covering his fingers in your wetness, then he dives for your entrance, catching the sphere inside and helping it out. 

“You should be warm and stretched now, right?” he asks you, then brings the toy to his mouth. 

You stare at him, daring him to do exactly what he does next. He opens his mouth and takes a lick at the ball, tasting you. 

“This wet cause I made you come?” he asks, and you nod, stunned. He brings the sphere to your nipple and rubs it against your breast gently, drawing a small circle on it. “Sweet,” he coos, then sucks your freshly moistened nipple in his mouth.

You moan like you never have, your hips starting to move in an attempt to grind against something. 

You’re almost on the edge by the time he releases your skin from his lips. “Seokjin,” you beg, grabbing his hair and combing it back. “Please, Seokjin, I need it. I need it.”

He sits on his heels, his free hand landing on the small of your back and pulling you closer. “Come close, Fawn. I want to look into your eyes as you take it.”

Your frown can’t even begin to express how desperate you feel. You want him, now, and you’re about to have him. But a part of you is suddenly remembering that you’ll have to let go of him again at the end of the night. 

You shake off the bad thoughts and take him in your hand, but he swats it away. 

“When I say so,” he scolds you, so you place your hands on his shoulders for leverage and when you’re ready to sit on his lap, he grips himself steady and aims his tip at your entrance. 

“Can’t wait to hear you moan as I fill you up, love.”

You bite your lip and the head of his dick slips in effortlessly, smooth and hot. 

A sigh of relief leaves your throat and he smiles. “Goddamn, so warm,” he whispers, then gives you a few more inches — just three or four. Not yet all of them. 

“How does it feel, my Fawn?” he speaks softly. “Still hungry for more?”

You nod, feeling just how full, how magnificent it feels to have more, and to know there’s more to take. 

“You really needed my dick, mh?” He gives you one more inch and you start wincing, just a little. It’s thick and it’s warm, and it feels so right to squeeze it with your muscles, your orgasm starting to build. 

Seokjin looses control for a moment, and that’s all it takes for him to conclude his stroke, sinking all the way to the hilt. 

A gasp escapes you and he seems surprised too. 

He blinks a few times, then his gaze seems to focus on you. “Hello,” he says, with a large smile. “Fawn, I guess I needed inside you just as bad as you did.”

You chuckle and he grips the back of your neck and dives to kiss you. 

The tang of your taste is strong on his tongue, but you don’t dislike it. The kiss is soft, gentle, unrushed and tender. 

“Let me know when I can move,” he tells you. 

You nod. 

“Touch yourself,” he orders you, then starts stroking for real. 

He’s deep and slow, like he’s keeping himself in check, aiming at you coming undone. 

Which you do, in record time, moaning like you’ve never had good sex in your entire life, and at this point you’ve come to suspect so. 

You’ve given yourself good sex. You’ve splurged on a good realistic dildo, and you’ve learnt to fuck yourself right with it, but when Seokjin moves inside you, you doubt you truly ever reached ecstasy in your decades of existence. 

When you do come, it’s his name you scream, shameless, loud, and you don’t care since the entire building is made of people who are in several different states of erotic debauchery. 

Seokjin is proud, fulfilled, your pleasure finally achieved. 

He can now focus on his now. 

He recovers the kegel ball he slipped out of you, still hooked on his finger by the strap, and brings it in front of you. “I might get rough.” He seems unsure, and cheeky too, as he adds, ”How do you feel about a muffler?”

Your eyes widen. You think about it for a millisecond, then it seems obvious. “Go ahead,” you tell him, then open your mouth. 

“God, I love you,” he says. 

And you both stop. 

“Shit, I mean—” Seokjin is panicking. 

“I know,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him. 

He seems like he didn’t mean it. Not like that, at least. “I love this. Between us,” he adds

And you can agree about that. “I do, too.” 

He seems conflicted, unresolved. “Fill my mouth then fill me up, Seokjin. It’s not complicated.”

It really is, because you want all the feelings that come with this, and that are plenty more complicated than two hours of giving and taking everything you need for yourselves. It’s more than getting rid of tension and snatching all the pleasure you can.

He’s still hesitating, so you nudge the sphere with your nose and chin until you manage to catch it with your mouth. 

Both his hands are free now and he decides to grab your ass immediately, shoving your hips back down on him. “Damn right,” he grunts. 

He’ll give you what you want, he’s decided. Everything you want. He’ll keep to himself the complicated bits. 

You hum a short, clipped sound as he lifts you just a little and pulls you down again. Again, even faster than before. 

You start getting his pattern, cooperating as he gets more frantic, more forceful. 

Saliva is starting to gather in your mouth, the ball making it too difficult to swallow. You’re getting messy, and you decide to get messier still, to fuck the worries out of his brain, out of your own too. 

You’re glad he’s flexible, because you manage to make him shift from a lotus position to a rowdy cowgirl. There you go faster still, and he’s gasping your name, staring at your breasts, gripping them, slapping them too as they dangle over his face. 

You clench on him as he does, and he whines even louder. 

It makes you territorial, and maybe sadistic, because next thing you know, you’re removing the toy from your mouth and placing it on the floor — it is no longer welcome in your and Seokjin’s little game. 

Now it’s only the two of you, and may the strongest opponent win. 

You trace his pout with your fingers, and he parts his lips easily. Your middle and ring finger slip inside, and he lets you open his mouth wider. 

You lean over him, lower yourself to him, closer, your bellies sticking together, your hips still pistoning on him. 

Your tongue and cheeks are still coated in the thick wetness and saliva from the improvised gag-ball, so you just leave your lips agape and the thick liquid plops out, from your tongue on his. 

His eyes go wide and he grows more frantic still, going desperate while he licks his lips clean. “God, Fawn. Please,”

“Oh, did the tables turn…”

He smiles a desperate smile, begging you with his eyes. You allow him the final squeeze of your kegels, and he finally, finally comes. 

His arms wrap around you like vines, like he’s ivy, and he depends on you, needs you, wants to cling to your forever. 

He starts pushing from below and it’s a punishment divine and sinful at the same time. 

It shouldn’t feel this good, and yet it does, so you take it as best as you can. 

It feels like stealing, and you’re not sure you’re okay when he slips out. “A quick break, let me recover,” he begs. “Not done though.”

Seokjin is great at recovering, this one you’ve learnt. Maybe he doesn’t jerk off by himself. Maybe he keeps himself at bait so he can go all out when he’s with you. 

Nevertheless, he takes ten or so minutes to himself, where he just lays with you on top of him, his dick inside you, softening, while he strokes your body. 

“I don’t know what I meant with what I said earlier,” he admits. 

“We don’t need to talk about this right now,” you tell him, and maybe you’re just trying to save your poor little heart. Sure, saying you love him would be an exaggeration, but you definitely like this man, and you like his heart, his personality, and most importantly, the way he treats you and understands your needs. 

“I feel like we should.” He’s caressing your spine. “I—”

“Why did your ex-wife let go of you? How did she give up on sex this good? How did she get this and not…? Stay?” You ask. And you need the answer. Maybe that will make you swallow the lump in your throat. He wants to discuss difficult topics? Then let’s do that. 

“I—” He’s clearly caught by surprise. “I was not like this. With her. With other women.” His hand stops, resting on the curve of your ass. “We were just… No longer in love with each other. We still love each other, but we don’t long for each other anymore. We love each other for the three beautiful lives we created together, for our family, for the memories, but we don’t… We want to build different paths. And that’s fair.”

You nod, then settle back on his chest, drawing patterns on it with your fingers. He’s starting to stir inside you, you can tell. Feeling him awaken like this is fulfilling, arousing too. “And you let go?”

“We did.” He squeezes your butt fondly. “We— Me and my ex didn’t have sex often. I needed it, I guess, but I never asked. She didn’t seem to want it. Passion was never part of the equation.”

“But three kids? I—”

“We wanted a big family. She did, especially. But it’s not like we tried a lot. We were just lucky. And I don’t regret that, not even a second. After Daisy we stopped altogether. We were basically celibate for more than a year.”

You nod, then look at him. “So this thing with me is like—?”

He chuckles, his hips shifting in a way that tells you he’s ready again, or soon will be. “This is the most selfish and passionate I’ve been in the last five years. I guess that’s why I said what I said earlier.” He’s blushing, eyes averted. “But that doesn’t mean I value you only for selfish reasons.” He forces himself to look at you again. “I actually like you a lot. But I don’t know what to do because stuff gets complicated when you have kids, especially young kids like mine.”

You nod some more. “You like me?!” You say after three seconds, tires screeching in your brain as you process his words. 

He smiles, his laugh rippling from his stomach to yours. “Yeah, that one sure. Pretty sure about it, yeah.”

“And—”

“And I waited this long to tell you because I wanted to be sure, but also because I wanted to be sure it meant something to you too. I wanted to feel safe with you.” He smooths your hair by your temple, removing a strand that was obstructing your eye. “I wanted to have sex when I was sure you meant something for me. I think sex is something meaningful. Important. I wanted to get there step by step.”

You rise from his chest, stare at him, confused, like your world has been just flipped inside out. “I thought you didn’t—”

“I did.” He chuckles, just a little, then places a hand on your waist and flips the two of you upside down. 

He’s on top of you, and he’s got a point to prove. “Last time I really did. I was this close,” he says, and he strokes out, then in, slowly.

You moan his name, and he dives to your lips. “Such a pretty way to moan for me, Fawn. Telling everyone who’s fucking this sweet, warm, cosy pussy.” He stops once he bottoms out and speaks through gritted teeth: “As I was saying before you interrupted me, I really wanted to, last time. I was sure I was going to get your number and invite you for dinner afterwards. But the babysitter and fucking lice and—”

You laugh. He’s fucking you so good and yet you end up talking about mundane stuff and he’d so handsome above you but you really want him to take you from behind — your mind is frazzled. 

“I wanted to fuck you and keep you till morning, and then get you breakfast, and ask you for a date.”

Your heartbeat stumbles. “A date?”

He stops. “God. Don’t tell me you—” He slips out. “You don’t… Uhm. It’s— You don’t see me like that, right?”

He seems defeated, embarrassed too, maybe, but mostly lost.

“Oh, not that!” You rush to clarify, “I mean, I do! I do see you like that, I mean!” You grab him by the shoulders, then cup the sides of his neck and kiss him, because you’re making a mess and you know that you’re going to kiss him right and show him just how much this means to you. 

“I love that you waited to have sex with me.” You caress his face. “It meant a lot, because I don’t think I was ready to have sex straight away.”

“I wanted to since I first saw you,” he says, and you kiss him some more, to show him you like what he’s telling you, that you want him to keep going. “But I needed time to process just what I wanted, and how.”

“I noticed you staring.”

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. I wanted to be matched with you so bad, but I was scared we wouldn’t combine. Maybe we were incompatible.”

You smile. “I’m so glad this is happening.”

He slips an arm underneath your back and helps you up, until you’re both sitting up again, your chin resting on his shoulder, and you’re about to abandon yourself in his arms when you notice something in a corner of the room. 

“Hold up,” you tell him. 

He pulls back, looking you in the face. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head, then kiss him softly, gingerly. “Just wait.”

You rise and let him slip out of you, his dick deliciously covered in your and his cum. 

He watches you rise and follows you with his gaze, studying the way the fire dances on the planes of your skin. His mouth waters. “Fawn, love, no need to—”

“Yes!” you exclaim, then he notices you’re moving a full-length mirror closer to your alcove by the fireplace. It’s a wheeled mirror, which can be rolled around to better be included in the scene. You place it in front of Seokjin, who studies you standing beside it, then looks at his reflection. “I wanted this so bad,” you tell him, “but I wanted to look you in the eye and I don’t like the fact that you gotta face away for it.”

You sit in front of him, then turn your back to him and head back to your position on all fours, just like you started. 

Seokjin shakes his head. “I’ve never understood doggy before hitting it with you,” he says, his hands skating down your sides. 

He slips in and you both hiss, but pleasure rises faster than pain. The first stroke is heaven already. “I’m gonna be fucking you like this for weeks to come.”

“I’m gonna hold you accountable for that,” you tease. 

He nods, then wraps an arm around you, his hand sprawled against your sternum, and he pulls you up, with your back against his chest. 

He can feel your crazed heartbeat, and you can feel his against your spine. 

“I’m gonna get rough, Fawn.” He bites your neck, not aggressively, but with passion. “Fuck, you make me wild.” He jabs into you. “With your pretty eyes.” Once more. “And your pretty, dirty mouth.” He slides out, then stuffs himself back in and you gasp. “And the way you get dumb and filthy when you need to come.” His hand climbs to your throat, without gripping, just a gentle warm caress, as if to protect it, and help you hold your head upright. “The way you mix innocence and debauchery.” It’s like he’s trying to burrow himself inside you, swallowing your frame into his. “You’re a delight of a little bitch.”

You’re touching yourself now, and he stares at it in the mirror, at the frantic circles of your fingers on your clitoris, at the way your tits wiggle at his thrusts.

Your lips are parted wide, and you’re starting to fall, he can tell, your eyes closing slowly. You’re fluttering for him, inside, and he’s gritting his teeth, plunging inside you more furiously. “Come on, come for me, my little bitch. Show me how much you love this dick.”

And so you do.

He thanks you softly and compliments you as you start coming apart for him, his own pleasure coming together and unraveling at last as you both spiral into each other. 

It’s apotheosis, the way you melt into each other, your essence becoming one. It’s completion. It’s finality. It’s your destination. 

You’re both left panting, exhausted, and this time you’re not sure Seokjin will recover as easily as he had before. 

“Holy smokes,” you exhale, and he meets your eyes in the mirror. His cheeks are adorably flushed, and his eyes are dark and drowsy. He’s still panting. “Very worth it. Every second.”

“Kudos for the mirror. Excellent idea.”

“We need to add that to the list.”

“Definitely.”

He kisses a spot near the hollow of your throat, nibbling the skin there just right. 

He stays buried inside you still, and has pretty much no intention of getting out. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you, his fingers skimming your belly, caressing you, but also trying to keep you warm. He wants to grab a robe for you, but he doesn't want to be detached from you yet. 

“I'm just fine,” you reassure him, rubbing his thigh to comfort him. 

“Was it too rough?” he asks and you shake your head immediately. 

“Are you kidding? It was just perfect!” you tell him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

He stays quiet for a while then says, “Are we okay with… With what I said earlier? About… About feelings?” 

You blink repeatedly. “I think…” You pause. “I think it's fair, what you feel. And—” You shake your head and giggle. “I hope you did mean to ask me on a date.”

He chuckles, then wraps his arms more tightly around you. “Breakfast. The girls are with their mom tonight, we could sleep here—” He kisses a sweet spot at your nape— “Or not sleep at all,” he suggests, “and wake up in the morning and go for breakfast.” He contemplates the option, studying your face in the mirror. “It's up to you, my beautiful Fawn.”

You just shake your head yes, smiling brightly.

“I need to be clear from the start, though. If my situation with my terminated marriage, and with my kids scares you or disturbs you in any way, I would like to know it right now.” 

You shake your head vigorously. “I'm okay with that, as long as you're sure you're ready to try this for real.” You feel your eyes grow avoidant and your cheeks heat as you add, “I must admit, Seokjin, that I got it quite bad for you. If you were in this with no intention of things getting serious, I think I would be—” You search for the word. “I'd be disappointed. Strongly.”

He nods, then swallows you in his frame, your torso and his like two juxtaposed crescents. “I'm looking for something real. Something passionate and steady and reliable. Someone I can be a man with, a friend, and a father, and a partner too. I need someone for myself. Someone who can be mine, but also someone I can belong to.”

You nod then turn to look him in the eye, your bodies still spooned. You stretch to his lips and he kisses you, his eyes staring at your mouth before it goes out of focus.

It's immediately a matter of tongues and wetness and sucking, with just the right amount of teeth. His hands lose their peaceful rest and return to tantalising, seductive touches, veering south. 

“Already?” you purr against his mouth, a slow smile already crumbling. 

“You've got no idea what you started,” he says, tempting. 

You chuckle, your laugh and his mixing. And you tell him, “Show me.” 

More in this AU | MYG | KNJ

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#ksj smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin scenario #bts smut blog #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #Hbd Kim Seokjin I guess??? #kim seokjin x reader #Kim Seokjin x yn #Seokjin x fawn #btswritersclub #bangtansorciere #52hertz #bts hyung line

[oddinary4bts]

Forever | ksj

☆summary: three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again?

☆pairing: Kim Seokjin x female reader

☆rating: 18+

☆genre: ex-fiancés to lovers, idol!au, angst, smut, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, oc and jin fight a lot and don’t talk enough, oc is a little mean to jin and jin is a patient angel, cursing, inaccurate cooking terms, oc gets wounded on a nail, a bunch of nostalgia and regrets. explicit content: choking kink, grinding, a little bit of tits play, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), a little bit of dirty talking, dom!jin, big dick!jin, protected sex

☆word count: 25.2k words

☆a/n: here is the jin fic! I hope you will love itttt, it was really fun to write even though it’s sad. I love nostalgia and I hope I was able to write it well. Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @moonleeai for helping with this story once again. You are the best and I am so blessed to have you <3

☆a/n pt2: enjoy reading babies!!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Prologue – three years ago

           It was a rainy night with lightning cutting through the sky and thunder rumbling through your chest. You had been waiting for your boyfriend for a while, enjoying the light of a candle and the warmth of your bath. A wine glass rested on the side of the tub, emptied a while ago by your avid drinking.

Jin had been supposed to come home three hours ago, for a most needed date night, and he still hadn’t shown up. It was frequent lately, his absence without a single word. You could hardly blame him – with the pandemic and you moving in together, you had been spending a lot of time together. Too much, maybe, and casual conversations had slowly started to fall into arguments, and arguments had slowly inched into fights.

It didn’t matter. You had stopped caring a while ago. Maintaining a relationship that wanted to dwindle to nothingness was becoming too hard. Especially with the impossibility of work, as lockdown was still in full sprint.

You focused on the drama on the screen above the tub, moving your legs a little. Bubbles floated around, and you played with them mindlessly, eyes following the action.

The drama you were watching… it was bittersweet. It reminded you of better times between you and Jin, when he had not even debuted yet and you spent all your time together. From the moment you had met, you had been inseparable, your young relationship blossoming into a beautiful flower, petals rich with affection and passion and love.

Until a worldwide pandemic had to come around and put the first nail in the coffin. Deciding to move in together had been the second nail. And maybe, even before all of that, the ring on your finger had been the third one. First one, or whatever.

Your eyes fell to the engagement ring, and you recalled the day he had proposed to you. It had been sweet with just you and your family, and for a moment you had seen forever in his eyes. In truth, you had seen forever in his eyes from the moment you had met him.

Until that dreaded pandemic.

You regretted a lot of things in the last few months. As if everything had come crashing down at the same time. Yet, you had both decided to try to save your relationship, in an effort to not lose the love that you had thought would last forever.

It was Jin’s first time bailing on you. You didn’t blame him – you had gotten in a fight this morning, one of the worst so far, with you both saying you should have never moved in together. Or at least not during the pandemic, where you were forced to spend a lot of time together.

Too much time, perhaps, for the independent souls that inhabited your bodies.

You sighed, eyes moving to the empty glass of wine. The wine bottle was on the counter, far enough for you to dread having to make your way to it. Yet, you pushed yourself up, stepping out of the tub, tiptoeing towards the precious bottle until you had it secured in your hands.

You were halfway back to the tub when the front door opened, and you stopped in your tracks, dripping water on the floor. Goosebumps formed on your skin every second you spent away from the heat of your bath, and you listened to Jin moving in the apartment. From the sounds of it, he had moved to the kitchen, but it was hard to tell over the conversation playing on the television on the wall.

You put the wine bottle back on the counter, heading to the bathrobe you always left hung up on the back of the bathroom door. You wrapped yourself in it, before stepping out of the sauna you had turned the bathroom in, heading towards the kitchen.

Jin had his back turned to you, when you walked in, broad shoulders drooping forward as he was looking through the wine cellar. He looked defeated, but you knew it was a lie.

He always looked defeated before you started fighting.

“What took you so long?” you asked.

He tensed, before turning to look at you. You had long stopped caring about looking good for him, and you knew you probably looked half-dead right now. His eyes skimmed over you, barely even stopping on the naked legs he used to worship, before meeting your gaze.

“Are you drinking the Syrah we were supposed to share tonight?” he enquired, his voice meeting the low-lying anger in yours.

You crossed your arms on your chest, a frown moving on your features. “Date night started three hours ago, I got bored waiting for you.”

“You didn’t have to drink the wine.” He put one hand in his pocket, and you scanned the ruffled button-up shirt he was wearing.

A question took shape in your mind, and you hated the doubt that seeped into your heart.

“Where were you anyway?”

“None of your business”, he replied, and he turned away from you, as he started walking away.

You scoffed. “What the fuck do you mean? Where were you?”

He shrugged, as he walked the way towards the bedroom. You followed him in, as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

You grabbed his arm, to make him face you. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I was with the boys”, he replied.

Your brows knit together. “Pandemic, hello?”

He rolled his eyes before shrugging your hand off. It clenched in a fist, with your nails digging into your palm.

“We were each in our own studio, hanging out online.”

You gritted your teeth. “You stood me up for an online chilling?”

He shrugged again, mouth pouting a little. “What do you want me to tell you? I didn’t feel like seeing you after this morning.”

The screams echoed in your mind, the way they had been echoing on the walls since this morning. Haunting you, giving you a glimpse of a finality you had thought would never come.

“Then maybe you should have stayed at the studio.”

You didn’t mean the words, but it was too easy to rile you up lately. Too easy to make anger flare up in your chest, until it was all you could feel.

Maybe if you could cook in the kitchen of your restaurant, away from him for a time, it’d help. But you couldn’t, and yet he always gave himself the right to go places. Because he was Kim Seokjin, and it seemed a global pandemic didn’t have the same impact on his life that it did on yours. Because even if he couldn’t do concerts or fan events like he usually did, they still found ways to make him work.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked. “Cause I can go and stay with Yoongi if need be.”

You sighed loudly, trying to calm down. “Listen, Jin, no I don’t want you to leave. But you need to stop pretending as if our relationship comes last in your life.”

He chuckled dryly before saying, “Just let me be.” He met your gaze, and his eyes meant nothing good. “You’re always on my fucking back, it’s getting tiring.”

“Well maybe if you helped a little more with cleaning I wouldn’t be on your back!”

The perks of having an unresolved fight were that it always came back, sooner or later.

“You’re too obsessed with cleaning, not everything needs to be spotless all the time.”

“If we don’t do it every day then it starts accumulating and we’ll never see the end.”

He shook his head, before moving away from you. “It’s not like we’re two pigs, we don’t dirty the place every day.”

“Whatever”, you shrugged off. “I just want some help, is that too much to ask?”

“I’m tired, Y/n.”

You watched him sit on the edge of the bed, and only then realized that there was no fire in his eyes. No spiel of words falling from his mouth, like it usually happened when he got angry. He did look tired, as if all the fight had gone out of him.

And maybe it had, after this morning. After last Sunday and the Thursday before that. In all truth, you couldn’t really remember the last time your relationship had been sunshine and rainbows. It had only been thunderstorms and hurricanes for a while now.

More than a while.

“So am I, that’s why I’d like a little help”, you said, but it sounded like a question. It was condescending, maybe, and it was a mistake.

“I think I’m going to move back with Jimin and the others.”

His words hung heavily in the air, echoed by a thunderclap that rumbled through the building, making it shake under your feet.

“What?” you let out.

“I’m going to move back in with the boys.”

A single drop of cold sweat formed on your temple.

And you watched him, as he finished taking off his button-up shirt, before putting on a sweatshirt. It was a weird look, with his dress pants, but he looked good.

He always looked good. It almost distracted you from the anger, as shock started meshing with it, until every beat of your heart ached painfully.

He grabbed his leather travel bag, the one you had given him on his birthday after their debut, and you stood there in silence as he started packing his clothes. He avoided your gaze, pretended that you weren’t there, and every single one of his moves broke your heart a little more.

Maybe there had still been love in you, even with all the frustration.

“I…” he let out, as he finished packing the bag.

You still hadn’t moved, and all your stupid brain could do was count the seconds between the flash of lightning outside, and the rumble of thunder that followed.

He straightened, finally meeting your gaze. “I think we need some time away from each other.”

It was panic, rising in you now. Washing away every other emotion, until you could taste bile in your mouth. “Don’t leave.”

He shut his eyes, and his next words looked like they pained him. Like they had stuck a dagger into his chest, just as they stabbed into your own beating heart. “I have made my decision already.”

“You’re breaking up with me?”

His eyelids fluttered open, and he shrugged. “No. Unless that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want you to leave”, you said. Begged even, something you had never really done before.

Maybe because you had never thought Jin would leave.

“It doesn’t matter.” It was said gently, yet it filled you with so much hatred.

At you and him, for losing a relationship that could have been forever.

“It doesn’t matter?” you let out, and you scoffed. “We’ve been together for almost ten years and you tell me it doesn’t matter?” It was hysteric, the way you spoke.

He just grabbed his bag, before walking around you so he could reach the door of the bedroom. You wanted to stop him, but all you could do was follow him out into the hallway.

“Jin.”

He didn’t stop, and your blood turned to ice as he got closer to the front door.

“Jin”, you said again, and you stumbled on your feet as you tried to grab his arm, but your fingers only met cold air.

He put on his shoes, not once glancing at you. You were shaking, where you stood, digits trembling as the panic settled into you fully.

“You can’t leave like that”, you said.

“We just need some time alone”, he said. He was trying to reassure you, but the absence of physical contact, of his usually warm hands on you… It destroyed you.

“Kim Seokjin, you are not going to leave me.” Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes.

Yet he didn’t say anything, only turning towards the door. His hand had closed around the doorknob when he finally glanced at you.

He looked apologetic yet determined. As if he knew that ripping the band-aid quickly would be better, easier for you.

“I’ll talk to you soon”, he promised, and you noticed a tear rolling on his cheek.

It felt out of place, as he was the one choosing to leave, and you wanted to punch him for it. But your heart ached too much for you to do anything other than beg. Beg for the love of your life not to step out of the apartment that was yours.

“If you go out this door –” you trailed off, and your voice shook. Shook with the panic and the pain and everything in between. “Don’t you fucking come back if you go out this door.”

He offered you a small smile then, as more tears rolled on his cheeks. “Goodbye, Y/n.”

 *****

 Present day

                 The kitchen was hot with the heat from all the ovens, smoke lingering in the air as your sous-chefs produced the meals you asked them to, with you supervising the whole thing. Different aromas mixed together as they met your nose – gochujang, halibut, a hint of matcha, along with the warm smell of the pastries that were currently baking in the oven. Steaks were being grilled somewhere at the back of the kitchen, and their nidor slowly overpowered the other smells.

You made your way to the grills, a foreboding sensation forming in the pit of your stomach.

“Who let those burn?” you screamed, twirling around to catch a glance of the cooking assistant that was in charge of grilling.

You met his widened gaze, and he cowered under your stare, seemingly wishing to disappear through the floor. You shook your head slowly, trying to keep your anger at bay.

Even though you had a reputation to maintain, you always tried to stay calm in the kitchen. Your mother had raised you with the belief that screaming at people led to nothing but misunderstandings, and you put her beliefs into practice religiously. Even in your field, where a single faux pas could lead you to losing your restaurant.

The field of fine cuisine was a cruel one, especially for a woman. More so for a woman in her late twenties, who had gotten her success because –

You stopped your train of thought. You had attained such unprecedented success thanks to your ability in the kitchen. Not because of anyone else.

You put the burnt steaks aside, quickly grabbing some new ones before putting them on the grill, telling your sous-chef to focus on them and them only. Especially considering the person that had ordered those steaks.

You hadn’t seen Namjoon in a long time. Longer than the last time you had seen Jin. Yet you had always been close to Namjoon, sort of, and when he had texted you asking if he could reserve a private room in your restaurant for a date, you had immediately said yes.

You hadn’t yet gone to greet him, dreading the moment you’d see him. As if acknowledging that he and the rest of the boys still lived when your relationship with Seokjin had died was too dreadful for you. And maybe it was.

The night Jin had left had been the last time you had seen him in person. You had walked out into the thunderstorm hoping to stop him, but it had been too late. And it seemed he had taken your words seriously because he only had come back once when you were gone to collect his belongings, leaving you a note saying that it was over.

It hurt bitterly to read the note. It wasn’t just a note – it was a full-length letter, with him explaining where you went wrong and how he hoped you’d find happiness. Your tears had stained the page more than once, as you had realized how final the whole thing was.

As if you had finished the last dessert and only the aftertaste was left. And it wasn’t a good aftertaste. Heartbreak – it tasted vile and felt just as bad. A little worse maybe. Two years later, you still hadn’t really gotten better. All you could do was focus on your restaurant and truly, maybe that was the only thing that there was to do after losing the love of your life.

It was ironic that you still thought so now that Jin had left you. You had never thought the love of your life was going to leave, to disappear into the night… and yet he had. The hardest part in it all was that you couldn’t really remember your last kiss, or the last time he had held you in his sleep. Because back then you hadn’t thought you needed to commit the moment to memory, and it had dwindled into oblivion in the weeks following the break-up.

You shook the thoughts away. Now was not the time to reminisce about the past. Not when the kitchen was busier than ever. So you focused on that instead, getting lost in the aromas and the presentation of the dishes you made, all the while thinking about alterations you could make to the recipes so that they would be better.

There was always room for improvement in your cooking. Maybe there should have been room for improvement in other areas of your life too, but the past was in the past.

“Everything is ready for table seventeen!” someone yelled by the door.

It drew your attention, and you quickly made your way to the waitress. “Is that Kim Namjoon’s table?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The waitress nodded, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks.

You smiled at her, before grabbing the two plates. “I’ll take care of it.”

The waitress looked disappointed, but she said nothing as you walked around her, heading out of the kitchen. The reprieve from the heat was a relief, once you stepped out in the cool hallway, and you sighed as you made your way to the room where Namjoon was.

You had told him you’d speak to him when you got the chance, and you didn’t feel like waiting at the end of the night: you’d have no excuse to go back to your kitchen if you got uncomfortable then. And really, you didn’t think you would be. Namjoon had always been a friend, even though he was a couple of years younger. He had always made you feel at home when you visited Jin at the dorm.

In truth, all of the members had made you feel at home. And you had spent a lot of time with them, in all the years you and Jin had dated. You had seen Jungkook grow up and had taught Yoongi how to cook some stuff. Had comforted Taehyung the first time he had gotten his heart broken and had been there for Hoseok when nobody had sent him fan mail at the beginning. You had been part of the BTS family, sort of.

Until that dreaded pandemic.

You pushed the thoughts aside once more, as you turned into another hallway, where all the private rooms were. It took you a few more seconds and then you walked into Namjoon’s room.

The first thing you noticed was the girl sitting in front of him. She was everything you knew Namjoon liked – small, cute and delicate, with big eyes that shone with intelligence and a pink tint to her cheeks. Namjoon had that same flush on his cheeks, and when his eyes slid to you they widened with recognition.

“Y/n!” he greeted you. “This is the friend I told you about.” He said that second sentence looking at his date, who threw you a curious look.

Had she not been there, you would have probably hugged Namjoon and told him how much you missed him, but you refrained doing so, not really wanting to make the girl uncomfortable.

“Nice to meet you”, you greeted her as you put the plates on the table.

She replied, with a shy voice that had you hold in a knowing smile. She definitely was Namjoon’s type. In another world, you would have known everything about that girl, about how she and Namjoon had met. In another world, you would have probably become friends, the same way you had become friends with Sena when Jungkook had started dating her.

You didn’t even know if Jungkook and Sena were still together, but you wished it for him. Jungkook had a fragile heart, and he deserved all the love in the world.

“How have you been doing?” Namjoon asked after you explained the meal to them.

You froze for half a second. “Good. Great. The restaurant has been doing better than ever.”

He had a knowing look in his eyes, when you met his gaze, and you wished you could disappear. Because you knew he didn’t mean work…

But work was all there was to your life now.

“How has…” you trailed off. Because you didn’t know why you wanted to ask, you weren’t sure you wanted to know anything about Jin. Yet, in some deep dark corners of your heart you wanted to make sure he was doing okay. That he wasn’t broken, and that he had allowed himself to move on.

Namjoon knew what you were asking without you having to say the words. He pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s been okay. Has been better, but he’s managing.”

You nodded your head slowly, ignoring the curious look Namjoon’s date threw your way.

“He…” Namjoon trailed off, meeting the girl’s gaze once before looking back at you. “He wanted me to say hi to you for him.”

You clenched your teeth, as your heart constricted in your chest. “Oh.”

The atmosphere filled with awkwardness, and you rocked back and forth on your heels, hands fiddling with each other in the air in front of you.

“Tell him I say hi too”, you finally said, as Namjoon smiled an apologetic smile.

“Of course!” His smile melted into a true one. “All the members say hi too.”

That pushed Jin aside, in your mind and in your heart, as endearment warmed up your blood. “I haven’t seen you all in so long.”

Namjoon chuckled, nodding. “Hobi mentioned he invited you to the party for the release of his album last summer.”

That was true. He had invited you, but you had found yourself unable to go. Not only because Jin was going to be there, but mostly because you had a busy event at work, a night you couldn’t really miss. So, you hadn’t gone to the party, though you had called Hoseok in the following days to tell him that you were proud of him and that his album had exceeded your expectations. And your expectations had been high, but Hoseok was the kind of man to always exceed expectations. A professional through and through, both in music producing and dancing.

“Yeah, I was stuck here”, you admitted, as silence stretched between you. “I wish I could have gone.”

“Everyone would have been happy to see you.”

You smiled, nodding your head. “How has Yoongi been doing?”

That question was an easier one, even though the reason behind it was heavier. Yoongi had always had troubles with mental health and you had long been the one he confided in, along with Hoseok. Though he hadn’t talked to you after the break-up, but then again none had, except Namjoon.

After all, they were Jin’s brothers, not yours. Some part of you had hoped they’d keep contact, but at the same time you were happy they had chosen to stick by Jin’s side. God knew Jin needed his brothers.

“Yoongi’s been doing great”, Namjoon replied. “He’s been keeping himself very busy.”

“As all of you have, I can imagine”, you said. You swallowed a sudden lump as nostalgia hit you.

Namjoon chuckled, nodding his head. His eyes slid to his date, and she blushed as their gaze met. You took that as a cue to leave, and you bowed to them, wishing Namjoon goodbye before walking away, turning your back on the only connection you had to your past.

The rest of the evening went by quicker than one could expect, even as a group came in an hour late to their reservation. You would have turned them around had you not needed to escape in cooking for a little longer, especially after seeing Namjoon.

Once the restaurant finally closed, the last of the guests sauntering off in the night air, you found yourself leaning on a counter in the kitchen, watching the two last assistants that had lingered around to help with the cleaning. Another one was taking inventory to make sure you’d get what you needed for the next day, but she was out of sight for now, lost somewhere in the cold room where you kept most of the food.

You helped the assistants for a moment, ignoring the side-eyed glances they threw your way. You wondered if they could read your emotions on your face. If they could see the nostalgia and the grief that was engraved deep in your heart, that had been carved there by the man you had loved more than you had loved anything else in this world.

Except maybe your restaurant, which, most of all, was probably the reason why you didn’t feel like going home tonight. Going home to an empty and cold apartment, a new space you had never really found the will to decorate, not wanting it to look like the home you had built with Jin. Not wishing to buy new decorations and make it look different either.

You were aware that you were stuck in the past. It wasn’t always so bad – most of the time, Jin was but a lingering thought at the back of your mind and buried deep down in your heart. But tonight, every breath you took smelled like the ghost of him, and the afterimage of the light on your retina was painted in his silhouette.

You hated nostalgia. It was a suffocating feeling, one that made you grieve for a life that could have been had you not let him go in a fit of rage. Had you not been too much of a coward to follow him faster in the night and beg him to stay. Though you were quite sure begging would have made it worse.

At the end of the day, life had happened the way it had been meant to happen. No matter how sour it was, how bitter it felt, you and Jin had always been meant to part ways.

You shook the thoughts away as you made your way home, somewhere between midnight and one in the morning. You took your time, eyes sliding up to the veil of clouds covering the sky once in a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon. Though it lit up the clouds whenever the veil thinned, the moon stayed stubbornly hidden, as if she also was too busy grieving the loss of her love to dare show her face to you.

You chuckled at your drama-filled thoughts as you finally reached home, stopping downstairs to grab the mail before going up. Your apartment complex wasn’t luxurious like the one you had shared with Jin, but it was still fancy enough to have an elevator. You went through the mail as the elevator moved up to your floor.

Your eyes fell on a letter amongst the ads that had been left in your mail, and your brows knit together. You hadn’t gotten a handwritten letter in forever. Actually, you were pretty sure you had never gotten a handwritten letter through the mail before.

You got out of the elevator as you read what was written on the envelope, only then realizing it was from one of your friends back in your hometown, in the suburbs of Seoul. It was the same city where Jin had grown up, though you had only met after you both graduated from high school, when Jin had become a trainee.

You shook him away from your thoughts, focusing on the envelope as you tore it open, only to be greeted with an invitation for a baby shower. Nari and her husband had always liked the western culture, and you weren’t surprised they decided to hold a baby shower. What you were surprised with was that Nari had slid a smaller piece of paper in the envelope, and it fell to the ground slowly.

You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick it up before resuming your walk to your door. You managed to punch in the passcode to your apartment, opening the door with one elbow before walking in and pushing it shut behind you.

The cool darkness of your home welcomed you, and you kicked your shoes off before putting slippers on and walking into the living room. You put the ads and letter down on the coffee table before walking to the wall, where you flicked a switch on. The room came alight with the soft glow of a lamp, and you walked back to the coffee table to grab the letter before sitting on the couch.

You read Nari’s words a couple of times, your tired mind unwilling to let them make sense to you. It was on your fourth read that you realized she was telling you Jin had received the same invitation, and that she wouldn’t be angry at you if you chose not to go.

Your heart beat loud, in your chest, as you read the words again and you realized the path that had moved away from Jin could bring you close to him once more, if he chose to attend the event. If he chose to come, even if Nari and her husband Joonwoong had always been closer to you than to him. Or so you thought. Though Joonwoong and Jin had always gotten along well, gaming together on more than one occasion. It had happened a lot during the pandemic. It also caused a small fight between you and Joonwoong. Indeed, you had blamed him for taking all of Jin’s time as you had vented to Nari, and Nari had told her husband. Fortunately, the fight was long resolved, and you weren’t surprised he and Jin were still friends.

You took a deep breath, eyes sliding to the television on the wall in front of you. You weren’t quite sure you were willing to go to the baby shower. Didn’t know if seeing Jin again would be a good idea, especially after how hard the nostalgia was hitting tonight.

The thought made a laugh bubble in your chest. It was strange, that the letter had come exactly as your thoughts had been filled with Jin, in a way they hadn’t for a long time. In a couple of months, even, as the time apart erased him from your mind better than anything else could have.

You leaned against the couch, looking down at the letter where it rested on your thighs, a little crinkled by the grip of your hands on it. You loosened your grip, flattening the paper before sighing.

You would decide if you were to go tomorrow after a good night of sleep. Or whatever sleep would find you tonight, as your heart danced to a rhythm you thought it had forgotten the moment you had seen Jin leave, all those years ago.

You hated yourself, for missing him like that tonight. For missing the rest of the boys, missing the friendship you had shared with them before the fall. Though if you were honest to yourself, seeing Namjoon had been reassuring, in some sort of way. It was reassuring to know that they were all doing great, even with how hard the pandemic had been, even for them.

You wondered what Jin was thinking, on his side of the world – closer to you than most of the human population, still so far he was but a lingering ghost in your life. You imagined him, as you tried falling asleep. Still awake, sitting behind the screen of a computer as he’d game the night away, the same way he had for most of your relationship, whenever he had a break from work.

In all truth, Jin had received the same letter as you, yet he had found it earlier, a little after Namjoon had told him he was going to visit your restaurant. It had come as a shock to hear about you after all this time. After doing everything he could not to stumble upon a reminder of you, even as he kept a picture of you in his wallet.

A picture of you two, from the first year of your relationship. In that gazebo where you had fallen in love, long before the fall had happened.

He still gazed at the picture sometimes. Ran his finger on your face, wishing he hadn’t made the decision to leave. Knowing it had been the right decision, yet hating himself for it. Hating himself for hoping you’d attend the baby shower, and he’d get a glimpse of your soft pretty eyes, a glimpse of the smile that had stolen his heart when he was still too young to know what love was.

He knew he was confused, but what could he do? Confusion was a constant when one’s heart longed for another.

And maybe that was why he found himself deciding to go to that baby shower two months later. Maybe that was why you decided to go too, with the hopes that you’d run into him and find the words to speak to him. Words you had wanted to tell him back then before he had left. Before he had stepped out and left you in the past.

 *****

                 Hope was a treacherous thing when you owned a fragile heart such as yours. And maybe you should have decided not to go, maybe you should have mailed a gift to Nari and Joonwoong. Instead, you went, closing the restaurant for the weekend as you decided to spend it at your parents’ place like you did once in a while whenever you needed more company than your empty apartment could provide.

Your parents were happy to see you. Ecstatic even, as your mother had a new man for you to meet. Another blind date like all the ones she had made you go on in the last year. None had worked, and you knew that the next one wouldn’t work either. You weren’t interested in a relationship at all, rather preferring to focus on building your reputation in the field of catering and fine cuisine.

And you were right: sitting in front of that stranger in a café you had frequented with Jin all those years ago, you found yourself losing your interest. Wishing you could be home and sipping on a glass of wine. It wasn’t that the guy was bad. He was pretty decent with a career that promised success in the field of finance and a rich family to support him if failure met him. He was nice, with a smile that made his eyes crinkle softly and a laugh that sounded a little childish, yet like a melody.

In all truth, it wasn’t him that was the problem. You were aware it was you, and your unavailable heart that still looked for another in all the people you met. Someone you knew you were going to see the next day, as Nari had told you he’d attend.

Making you go on a blind date the day before seeing Jin had been a stupid idea from your mother, but to make her happy you stayed with the guy for a while, talking about everything and nothing, trying to appear interested in the things he said. You hoped you succeeded, but it didn’t really matter. You knew you weren’t going to see him again.

You found yourself unable to sleep that night. Eyes glued to the ceiling of your childhood room, thoughts roaming over the memories of the past years. Of your older brother who had been friends with Jin’s brother, long before you had even known Jin. Of your parents, who had been so in love and made you believe you’d find a love for yourself like that, some day. It was strange to think that you did and that you had lost it in your selfishness.

You weren’t quite sure if your selfishness had been the cause of the fall. It wasn’t like Jin had been better. You pushed the thoughts aside, rolling on your mattress, eyes falling on the window and on the clouds you could see in the sky, clouds that had been lingering for days.

And when the night sky started lighting up with dawn, you got up and went outside to do a little bit of yoga while the sun rose. Even if it was hidden by the clouds, you always found peace in the early morning, that moment before the world started turning again, when dew clung to every blade of grass, shining in the first rays of the sun.

“Y/n!” your mother shouted from the door of the house. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Coming”, you replied, before finishing your last position.

Once that was done, you rolled your yoga mat, carrying it back inside to your room before meeting your parents in the kitchen. Your brother had long been married and had moved in with his wife in Seoul, in the same neighborhood as your restaurant, so he wasn’t going to come for breakfast.

“How was the date yesterday?” your mother asked as soon as you sat, and you threw her an annoyed glance.

“You should stop forcing me to go on those”, you said, right as she shook her head slightly.

She met your father’s gaze, before resuming her attention on you. “I really thought you would like that one.”

You shrugged, spooning some food in your mouth to refrain from having to say anything. Your mother got the cue, and your parents started eating too, until a lighter conversation about their plans to visit your aunt in Busan filled the air, letting you zone out as you ate your fill.

 A little later, you found yourself putting on your favourite clothes – a pale pair of dress pants that had been too overpriced but fit you perfectly, along with a loose dark blue blouse that you tucked in your pants. You fixed your hair too, and put on some make-up. You knew it probably was too extra for a baby shower, but you didn’t care. You wanted to look your best if you were to see Jin.

The walk to Nari and Joonwoong’s place was a little longer than you remembered. You walked with your hands in your pockets, palms already clammy as anxiety moved through you. You had no clue who was attending except for Nari’s two younger twin sisters, Seori and Seri, along with Jin of course. You imagined Joonwoong’s siblings would be there too, but Nari hadn’t given you a clear list of the people in attendance.

Probably because she had thought you wouldn’t go.

Your right hand exited the comfort of your pocket to move to your hair, playing mindlessly with the bang that framed your face. It had gotten a little longer than you usually kept your bangs, and you knew you would have to get it cut soon.

You focused on simple thoughts to distract you from the perspective of seeing Jin. Focusing on them proved to be fruitless, because as you neared the house where your friends were going to build their family, your eyes fell on a familiar silhouette you would have recognized anywhere.

You knew those broad shoulders by heart, along with the dark hair atop his head. It was longer now, a little more ruffled as if he didn’t really care about his appearance all that much. Your fingers ached to touch the strands you knew were soft, and your hands trembled as you got closer to him, while he waited for someone to come open the door for him.

You were still a good ten feet away from the door when it opened, revealing a round-bellied Nari with a wide grin on her face. She didn’t notice you as she let Jin in, and the door shut before you reached it, as your heartbeat reached a rhythm that had to be anything but good for your health.

You waited for a moment before knocking, maybe because you were hoping Jin would be gone by the time someone would open for you. You were a coward, through and through, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

In all truth, you didn’t bring yourself to knock until a small family arrived, with two small children that kept running around and screaming with happy laughs and shrieks as the boy tickled his sister. You watched them for a time, as the parents neared you, face breaking into an endeared smile.

You had always loved children. Had always wanted to have a couple of them, back when you were with Jin. You still wanted some today, but it was a different want, like an unreachable goal that shimmered in the distance the same way a mirage did in the desert.

“Hello”, the woman greeted you.

You bowed as you echoed her greeting, right as the children finally settled down beside their parents, the girl throwing you a curious glance as she hid behind her mother’s legs. You smiled at her, before resuming your attention on the mother.

“I just got here”, you said, as if you needed to reassure her that you weren’t avoiding knocking on the door. Which, in truth, had been what you were doing.

“Let’s knock”, she replied, and the air filled with awkwardness before you finally turned, knocking on the door.

Your heart resumed its treacherous rhythm as you waited for the door to open and you were relieved when it did, revealing a disheveled Joonwoong.

“Y/n!” he greeted you happily, before speaking to the couple and their children behind you as he moved to the side to let you pass.

You listened to them speak as you took off your shoes. Apparently, the woman was one of Joonwoong’s coworkers, and she was currently pregnant with her third child, though she had yet to show. It made you jealous, in some sort of way, and you tuned out the conversation to focus on your surroundings.

Nari and Joonwoong’s house was a wide open space, with a staircase in one corner that led to the upstairs where you imagined the bedrooms were. A table was pushed against one of the walls, with a pile of gifts and colourful balloons on each end. People were scattered around the whole area, with a few of them sitting on a L-shaped couch next to the television on the wall. The kitchen was on the opposite end of the open area and an array of snacks rested on the table, for the guests to pick from if they wanted to. That was where Jin was, and your eyes immediately moved away as you saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, looking awkward with Nari speaking to her twin sisters next to him.

In all truth, you were surprised that Jin was there. He had never been one for crowds, even though he was an idol. Indeed, he had always been more of an introvert, and maybe that had been another reason why your relationship had been doomed from the start: you had always liked going out, and it wasn’t something Jin had had to offer you, at the end.

Or maybe that had been the pandemic.

You shook the thoughts away, right as you felt a tiny fist pulling on your pants. You glanced down to see the little girl with a shy smile on her face. You bent so you were at a level with her, and you offered her your sweetest smile.

“Hey there”, you told her.

“You are very pretty”, she said with a small childish voice that made your heart fill with endearment.

Her comment surprised you, as you hadn’t expected the compliment, but you immediately thanked her, telling her that she was the prettiest around here. That made her blush as her mother laughed next to her.

“She is practicing talking to people”, the mother told you once the little girl ran away, with her brother on her heels. “She’s always been shy, but we’re trying to make her come out of her shell.”

You chuckled as you nodded. “Going for a compliment right away doesn’t sound like she’s too shy.”

The mother laughed as she nodded in agreement. “She’s gotten a lot better.” Her eyes moved away from your face, and as soon as you saw her mouth falling open, you knew what she had seen.

Everyone had that reaction when they saw Jin back when you were dating. The perks of him being a worldwide famous idol.

The woman’s eyes moved back to you, right as she motioned behind her to tap on her husband’s arm. You waited for him to see Jin too, your own gaze falling to the floor as you felt awkwardness moving through you once again.

“Joonwoong didn’t mention Jin from BTS was going to be here”, the man said. It was said like it was some sort of a joke, like he didn’t quite believe Jin was there.

You didn’t blame him, you could hardly believe it yourself. You glanced over your shoulder and your eyes met Jin’s gaze for a time.

The world stopped turning, as your breath caught in your throat and your heart stopped in your chest. Jin offered you a small smile and a bow of his head, before leaning closer to Nari as she was saying something to him. He laughed at her words, and the sound of his laugh carried across the room to meet your ears.

It struck you dumb, and you turned your head away as everything inside of you felt like it was burning. As if you had caught fire and no one was to come to put it out. It hurt, deeply, and you wished you hadn’t come. Wish you hadn’t been stupid enough to want to come.

You and Jin were done. There was a whole abyss between you now, with no bridge to lead to him the way it had before. You had known it before you had come, of course. Hell, the break-up letter had been clear about it, as you had reread it in the last few days. But to see him there, to know he was nearby, yet too far… it cut you deeply. Made you feel as if you were bleeding out.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked, her concern for you replacing her surprise at the sight of Jin.

You met her gaze, wondering what you looked like for her to ask. Maybe you had blanched, as if you had seen a ghost. Maybe your eyebrows had fallen, or maybe your whole stance had fallen. It wouldn’t surprise you, you had always been an open book.

“Yes”, you lied, and you managed to take a couple of breaths, breaths that had your pain easing until it was just a numb feeling at the back of your mind.

You’d let yourself hurt as soon as you’d leave. You knew it was going to be soon, you didn’t feel like sticking around when just the smallest eye contact had you feeling like that.

And maybe you were stronger than you let yourself believe. Because you did stay, keeping away from Jin as best as you could, talking to the woman you had just met. Playing with the children, as the little girl tended to go back to you more often than the others. Maybe because you had been the only one to actually take the time to speak to her.

It was easier once the initial shock passed. Easier to pretend that Jin was just another stranger, as you avoided his gaze and his general presence. Easier to act as if you were fine, all the while feeling your heart break a little more.

Your eyes betrayed you sometimes, sliding to him even though you tried to ignore him. He looked good, effortlessly so. Full lips stretching into a smile that lit up his whole face as he laughed along with Joonwoong and the other men. Some of them looked like friends to him, and it was a strange sight to see him like that.

He looked happy. Maybe that, most of all, unnerved you. Seeing him happy, as if your presence didn’t affect him at all. Or maybe he was just a better actor than you.

Maybe he had just learned to push the pain so far in the depths of his heart he could barely feel it anymore. It was bound to break out some day, but today, he’d push it deeper, until it was like it didn’t even exist anymore.

Perhaps then he’d be able to catch a glimpse of you without feeling like he was drowning.

 *****

                 Years ago, the gazebo where you were sitting had been lit up with fairy lights. A string of them, that you could see up above your head, but they had died a long time ago. The landscape was the same though, with the distant mountains and the moon high up in the sky now that the clouds had finally dispersed. Closer to you, trees reached up to the heavens, though there was a break in them where the gazebo was so you could gaze at the view.

The gazebo wasn’t well maintained. There was a hole in the floor through which you could see rocks littering the ground, and there were spiderwebs everywhere, with their occasional occupant. You almost felt bad for disrupting their peace as you sat there, but you had needed to get away.

Memories were engraved into the wood of the gazebo, where lovers had carved their names and promises of forever. You knew that somewhere on your right your own initials, along with Jin’s, were etched on the side of the bench.

You remembered the day you had carved them there, with the Swiss knife your father had gifted you after his trip to Sweden. It had been a sunny day, with wind making the leaves of the trees dance, splotches of sunlight following a chaotic pattern as it reached the floor of the gazebo. Jin had been sitting on the floor, reading initials and what previous lovers had written. Until you had chosen to sit next to him and had started carving a memory of your own love.

You wondered if time had erased the carving, the way it had erased the love between you and Jin.

The gazebo had been a frequent meeting place for you and Jin. That summer you had met… it had been spent under this same roof, watching those same distant mountains, and listening to that same wind. It had been warm, hot even, though young love blossoming had kept it bearable. Enjoyable, too.

It was in that same gazebo that Jin had kissed you for the first time. In that same gazebo that he had proposed to you, that early September evening, along with your family.

The moon looked lonely, up in the sky. A full moon, brighter than the stars surrounding it, yet it looked lonely. Much like you felt. You wondered if Jin sometimes looked up at the sky and felt lonely too even with all his love for the moon up there.

It had been hard to see him earlier. Harder than you had expected and had you known, you wouldn’t have gone. It was strange to you that your friends still were friends with Jin. It made you think of the members, and the nostalgia felt too real.

It sucked that they had chosen to end your friendship when Jin had broken up with you. Sucked that Jin hadn’t had to lose most of his friends the way you had lost yours. It made you jealous, in some sort of way.

Jealousy wasn’t a beautiful emotion. It was filled with poison, the kind that slowly made your bones dissolve like they’d been thrown into acid. It was a slow pain, one that choked your lungs up with the feeling of drowning.

You hated it. Hated that Jin had looked so happy earlier. Hated that he had barely acknowledged your presence, merely nodding your way before focusing back on his conversation.

Mostly, you hated how some part of you had seen him and felt relieved. As if your heart had finally come home, even with all the distance between you. Hearing his laugh had been healing, too. But seeing his smile… it had broken your heart all over again.

You hadn’t cried about your lost love in a long time now. Didn’t think you were going to cry tonight either, yet your eyes felt wet. Vision becoming blurry, you found yourself blinking away tears right as you shivered in a particular cold gust of wind.

It felt even colder when you turned and noticed a figure standing there.

Then every sensation left your body when you recognized Jin, with his hands in his pockets and a startled look on his face. As if he hadn’t expected to see you there.

There was a long moment of you just looking at each other. Waiting for the other to speak, to act as if the world hadn’t just stopped for you. And you didn’t want to be the first one to speak, didn’t want him to hear the tremolo that was sure to take over your voice.

“Hi”, he said, voice small and shy in a way that was so different to the guy you had loved.

Your heart picked up its pace in your chest, and suddenly every sensation rushed back to you: the feeling of his eyes on you, the fabric of your shirt brushing your skin, the moon reflecting in his gaze. The smell of the forest surrounding you, mixed with the underlying scent of rotten wood. The sound of a cricket somewhere in the distance, along with the call of a night bird in the forest.

You noticed everything at once, as his single word floated in the air between you.

“I didn’t expect to find you here”, he continued as you stayed mute, as if you didn’t even know how to be human anymore.

In all honesty, you were pretty sure you didn’t.

He looked down, and his eyes trailed to the hole in the floor. He seemed surprised to see it there. You understood why: he too had to remember when you had come here when you were younger and foolish and falling in love. Back then, the gazebo had been well kept by a kind old man who climbed all the way here every morning.

“I can leave you alone if you want”, he said, eyes stubbornly avoiding your face as yours continued boring into his forehead.

Some sense came back to you, and you let out a small nervous laugh. “Sorry, no, you can stay.” You wet your lips as he met your gaze again. “I was leaving anyway.”

You got up, but Jin was quicker. “No!” His mouth hung open for a time, as if he regretted the sudden outburst. He then shrugged, before shaking his head slightly. “You can stay.”

With me.

The words were unsaid, yet they shone in his eyes. You nodded slightly before looking away from him, unable to hold his gaze. You listened to him climb the two stairs to the gazebo as he moved in, before sitting on the opposite side from you. You sat back down, trying to ignore the space between you.

The gazebo wasn’t particularly large, maybe six feet or so. If Jin were to lie down in the middle, you knew he’d almost touch the two sides. It also meant that him sitting in front of you brought him a lot closer than you felt comfortable with and you kept looking in the distance, trying to ignore his presence.

But it was hard. Jin lit up the gazebo, as if the fairy lights had fallen under his skin and the electricity running along his nerves was enough to light them up again. It made your heart beat painfully as it beat erratically, not sure which symphony to embrace.

You hated it, and really hoped you had chosen to leave.  But it felt too late now as if it’d just make everything all the more awkward.

The distinct sound of a zipper being opened met your ears, a strange sound that felt out of place in the middle of the night. You turned to look at him, unable to resist, to see he had a backpack next to him.

You hadn’t even noticed it, but Jin had brought a backpack with him. Your eyes widened a little as he fished a wine bottle out of it, along with a single plastic cup.

He looked up, as if feeling your gaze on him. “Had I known you were here I’d have brought two of these”, he said, moving the cup up a little before letting his hand fall in his lap, eyes following a second later.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Your words had him meeting your gaze again. “Are you…” you trailed off, cheeks flushing. “Were you going to drink alone?”

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t think you were going to be here, so yeah, that was the plan.”

Why had he chosen to come here? The question swirled in your thoughts, deafening every sound around you.

Had he needed to satiate his nostalgia, much like you had needed to?

“I look like a loser, don’t I?”

His sentence had a strange laugh bubbling in your chest. It was awkward, and a small smile moved on his lips as your gaze dropped to the floor. “You don’t”, you reassured him.

Why did you break up with me in a letter?

You wanted to ask him. Had been wanting to ask him since you had first seen him earlier… but he looked peaceful, somewhat, in the silver light of the moon. You didn’t want to ruin it with questions your heart had been wondering about for so long.

“Do you want to drink with me?” he asked.

You still avoided his eyes, but your gaze moved to the wine bottle. There wasn’t enough light for you to discern which wine it was. All you could tell was that it looked like a red.

“It’s an Antu”, he said. “Isn’t that your favourite?”

He knew it was. You didn’t know why he had asked because he knew it was.

It was that same bottle you had been drinking the night you had fought for the last time.

“You still remember?”

There was a heavy silence then, as Jin looked away, towards the horizon. You watched his profile, noticing the way his lips were tightly pulled into a straight line. Like he was hurt.

Maybe his memories hurt him just as much as yours hurt you.

“Yeah”, he flatly said after a time. He sighed, before sliding his eyes towards you again. “I remember a lot.”

You couldn’t look away this time and you offered him a sad smile. “It’s hard to forget someone you really loved, huh?”

He nodded, letting out a bitter chuckle. “It really is.” He put the glass down next to him before twisting the cap of the bottle open. He poured some wine, allowing himself a taste before handing you the glass.

You looked at it as if it was foreign, as if the scene was straight out of an absurd movie. And it really felt as if it was because he couldn’t have hurt the way you had. He had been the one to break up in the first place, even though you had known that the relationship had come to an end too. You would have liked to fight for it, but life had other plans for you.

You grabbed the cup, avoiding his fingers like the plague. You didn’t feel like touching him, not when just the sight of him hurt you like it did. You took a small sip, and the aromas of the wine danced on your tongue before you swallowed. The taste lingered a moment and it reminded you of that night three years ago.

Needless to say you hadn’t drunk that wine again after losing Jin.

“How has work been going?” he asked, as his gaze slid to the horizon, to the mountains coated in that silver glow the moon provided to the whole scene.

“Great.” You took another sip. “The restaurant has been going really great now that the pandemic is over.”

“Good to hear.” It sounded genuine, the way he said it, with softness making his voice fall low at the end. “RM had only good things to say about the food.”

A small smile formed on your lips. “Hope he had good things to say about his date as well.”

Jin chuckled, and from the corner of your eye you saw him take a sip straight from the bottle. “They are dating now, so trust me, he has plenty of good things to say about her. He is head over heels for her.”

“Good for him”, you said.

You fell silent for a time, both of you contemplating the mountains. It was a comfortable silence, as if the initial surprise of seeing him here had melted into expectation. As if you had expected him to meet you here under the gazebo, as he had so many times before.

“All the members are dating, actually”, Jin admitted.

Your eyes widened, and your gaze slid to him. “All of them?”

Jin laughed before taking a swig of the Antu. “Yeah. We just had a dinner with all their girlfriends.” He sighed, though a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’m happy they have found their own happiness.”

You were happy for them too, yet your heart felt heavy in your chest. Because even though Jin seemed happy for his friends, there was a heaviness in the air surrounding him. And you could imagine why, he was the oldest and he was the only one that was single now. It had to weigh on him, in some sort of way.

“Though”, he met your gaze, and your hand that held the cup shook a little at the sadness you saw in his eyes, “It feels weird to know that they have all found their person.”

You knew him all too well. After all this time, you still knew him all too well.

“Why is that?” you found yourself asking, even though you knew the answer.

He shrugged, looking in the distance again. You followed his gaze, as if it’d give him more privacy to reply to your question. He remained silent for a time, and you took a sip of the wine.

“I always thought I’d be the first to…” he trailed off. “Well, me or Jungkook-ie. I thought one of us would be the first to get married and all…” He chuckled, a sad sound that made your heart ache in your chest. “Won’t happen now.”

It angered you, just a little, because it could have happened hadn’t he chosen to break up with you. But it was in the past, and a fragile peace clung to the moment. You didn’t want to be the one to make it fall into chaos.

“Well, maybe Jungkook and Sena will get married soon”, you pointed out.

Jin winced, shaking his head. “Jungkook is not dating Sena anymore.”

It startled you, to hear that. “What?”

“Yeah…” Jin met your gaze. “He’s dating a tattoo artist now. And I don’t think they plan to get married.”

“Oh”, you let out. “Why not?”

Jin shrugged, before drinking a little wine. “One of the reasons why Jungkook and Sena broke up is because she wanted to get married and he didn’t.”

You remembered that. Sena had always gushed about the day she’d get married, had sent you pictures of wedding dresses and all the likes for a long time. Until you had split up with Jin, and then she’d started talking to you less and less until she didn’t at all anymore. You hadn’t tried to maintain the relationship either, as she reminded you of Jin too much.

You had avoided reminders of Jin for months after the breakup. Years, even.

“Oh, I see.” You drank, letting the wine roll on your tongue for a long time before swallowing. “Who do you think will get married first, then?”

“I have a feeling for Taehyung, but he started dating his girlfriend pretty recently.”

You smiled, nodding your head. “He’s always been a big romantic, though.”

“He has”, Jin agreed.

Jin had been a big romantic too, before you had made the mistake of moving in together because of the pandemic.

But you didn’t feel like fighting tonight. Just felt like talking to him like time hadn’t split you up like it had. You wanted to let the calm atmosphere of the night heal some parts of you that had never healed, after the breakup.

The perks of never really having in person closure.

“How… how has work been going for you?” you asked, carefully, after the silence between you had stretched into minutes, minutes of you both looking at the scenery.

“Well”, he said. “It’s been going well. It’s strange though. To not be doing everything with the members anymore.”

You slowly nodded. “I can imagine that it is.”

“But it’s been great”, he added. “Some change is always good, you know.”

You would have done without the change of losing him, but you couldn’t really tell him that, right?

Or maybe you could.

“Why did you break up with me in that letter?” you asked, a little out of the blue. The question had found its way to your lips quicker than you could stop it, and you let it hang in the air between the two of you.

You deserved an answer, after all this time. After all the haunting that the ghost of Jin had been in your life.

Jin looked startled, yet he didn’t flee. Didn’t become angry like he used to back then. “You told me to never come back.”

You slowly nodded, though you didn’t really remember what had happened that night. As if it had hurt too much and your brain had chosen to forget it.

“You never…” you trailed off, taking a sip of wine to hide the tremble in your voice. “You never considered that I didn’t mean it?”

He shrugged, sighing heavily. “I did, for a time. But then I realized that our relationship wasn’t what it was like anymore and figured it was just best to end it then.”

He had written so in his letter, so it was nothing new to you. Yet it hurt to hear him say it aloud.

“It was a little traumatizing, to come home one day and see that all of your stuff was gone”, you said.

You had wanted to tell him for years. Had almost given in and called him countless times in the weeks after that evening. But you hadn’t, your pride winning over your need for closure.

He had told you to call, though. In his letter. The last few lines had been about wanting to arrange a meeting in person so you could talk. You had chosen not to. Hadn’t been able to, in all honesty.

“I…” he let out, before falling silent. He didn’t speak again for a long time, and tears were welling up in your eyes, blurring the landscape in front of you, by the time he spoke again. “I apologize. I was messed up back then, and I just thought about myself.”

Maybe that had been your undoing. The fact that both of you had thought about yourselves, and never about the two of you together. You had been too individual in the whole relationship.

It didn’t matter anymore.

You couldn’t tell him that it was okay because it had never really been. So you remained silent, instead sipping the wine, trying to ignore your heart breaking in your chest all over again.

It was hard when you were fully aware that Jin had been the love of your life. In three years, you hadn’t even been able to look at another man and imagine having a sexual relationship with him, let alone a future. All your nights were still haunted by Jin. All of them belonged to him, just like all your days belonged to his absence.

“I really am sorry”, Jin said as you remained silent. “I shouldn’t have taken the cowardly way out.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore”, you said, trying to reassure him.

Another beat of silence passed between you two.

“You know, I would have wished for things to end differently”, he admitted. “It does matter.”

A tear slipped on your cheek, and you hoped he didn’t notice. Wished it with all of your heart. So, you drank some wine, finishing the cup he had handed you before focusing on the moon. A veil of clouds had hidden it, a little, and it was lit up by a silver glow, as if the moon had diffused in all the clouds.

Perhaps you were stupid for thinking he wouldn’t notice, when he still knew you by heart the way you knew him.

“Y/n…” he let out.

You glanced at him, and it just had more tears rolling on your cheeks. “Sorry.” You put the cup down on the bench next to you, before quickly getting up. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Don’t go”, he said softly, but you could barely hear him over the sound of your heart breaking all over again.

You took a few steps away, and maybe it was because the moon didn’t light up the gazebo anymore or because your tears were blurring your sight, but you forgot there was a hole in the floor. Only remembered when your leg went through it, and the sound of your pants tearing as you fell had you wincing.

Or maybe it was the pain that followed that truly had you wincing, as a burning sensation went up your leg.

“Are you okay?” Jin asked, and it sounded as if he had asked already, and you were deafened by the pain overcoming your nerves.

“Fuck.”

You had never cursed all that much in your life, and that more than anything told Jin that you in fact were not okay at all. He was kneeling in front of you – when had he moved? – a concerned look etched on his pretty features, heart-shaped mouth opened on a “o” sound that never reached your ears.

You met his gaze, blinking back tears, though this time you didn’t feel like crying because of the heartbreak. No, you were just infinitely embarrassed and were afraid to take a look at your leg.

“Let me help you out of there”, he gently said. Holding out his hands for you to take, though he didn’t touch you before you actually grabbed his hands.

In your panic, his warm touch barely registered in your mind. Especially as he tried pulling you up, and something dug in your leg. You screamed in pain and Jin let you go, a panicked expression taking over his features.

“Y/n…”

You blinked back more tears, before shutting your eyes and pulling your leg out. Adrenaline hid the first spark of pain, but as soon as your foot was resting on the floor next to you, away from the hole, the pain rushed back to you.

Or maybe the sight of blood staining your pale pants made the pain come back all the faster.

“You’re hurt”, Jin stated, right as the colours leached from his features. Not that you could really see it in the night, but the adrenaline made you all too aware.

“There was a nail.”

Your statement met deaf ears as Jin gently pulled your pants up to see the wound. It wasn’t a long cut, but it was deep enough to have blood gushing out of it. You paled even more at the sight of it, as your head turned dizzy.

“Oh God.”

“It’s going to be alright”, Jin reassured you, though he looked just as afraid as you. “I’ll carry you down and then we can call an ambulance.”

“I’m sure I don’t need to go to the hospital”, you said, but your voice was weak.

He didn’t say anything, instead moving towards the wine and the backpack. He put the cap back on the bottle before stuffing it in the bag.

“I swear I’m fine”, you insisted, and you pushed up to your feet. The feeling of newer warmer blood running down the side of your leg had fresh tears welling up in your eyes.

Jin put the backpack on so it rested on his stomach, before moving back to you. “Climb on my back”, he ordered, bending down so you could do so.

You slowly shook your head.

“Y/n, please, I just want to get you to safety.”

“I can walk”, you said, crossing your arms on your chest so he couldn’t see your hands shaking.

He threw you a no-bullshit look that had you look away. “Just climb on my back”, he said, gently, but with the firm voice you had seen him using with the members countless times before.

The same voice his older brother usually used on him.

“Okay”, you finally agreed because really, you couldn’t stand on your leg anymore, the pain making your knee weak. So, you wrapped your arms around Jin’s neck, and he pulled you up until your legs were circling his waist. “You’re going to get blood on you.”

“I don’t care”, he said and he started walking.

The sudden movement had you become all too aware of every part of your body that was touching him. It ached, a different way than the burning in your leg, as you rested your forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry”, you apologized again.

“Stop being sorry, you’re injured, it’s only normal for me to take care of you.”

That had you crying again, and you held him tighter. “No. I’m sorry for the way things went down three years ago.”

Jin didn’t reply, but his grip on the side of your thighs tightened.

The walk down the small mountain was a short one, just under twenty minutes. Twenty minutes that you spent in silence, head still resting against Jin’s shoulder. Heart still beating achily, as the burning in your leg grew numb. Jin rubbed your thighs with his thumbs mindlessly as he walked, and all you could do was listen to the sounds of the forest surrounding you.

When you finally reached the street, Jin put you down on a bench before calling an ambulance. He sat next to you after that, close enough so that his thigh was touching yours on the side of your uninjured leg.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

He slowly nodded, eyes getting lost in the reflection of the streetlamp in a puddle left from the rain earlier. “You know…” He chuckled, sadly, and if it wasn’t for the pain in your leg you would have moved until you could hug him. “You shouldn’t be sorry for how things ended.”

“But I am”, you said matter-of-factly. “I wanted to hate you for so long, but at the end of the day, it was all my fault.”

“It wasn’t”, he shook his head. “We both had our wrong-doings in the relationship.”

“I asked too much of you.”

It was true, in some sort of way. You had asked too much of him after you had moved in together. You had asked for stuff Jin couldn’t really give you, until he had become too tired to even try.

“I was too immature to give you what you needed”, he replied with a small voice. “I regretted it a lot.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“Not like I did at first.” He paused, eyes darting to you once before moving back to the safety of the puddle. “I hope you didn’t regret it.”

You chuckled bitterly, and hadn’t it been for the wound on your leg you would have gotten up and stormed off. “Jin, please stop saying that.” You met his gaze. “Stop saying that I shouldn’t be sorry or that I shouldn’t regret. I wanted to fight for you and you didn’t even give me the option.”

His brows knit together as he clenched his jaw, but a deep breath had his features loosening immediately. “You could have called, and we could have talked in person”, he pointed out. “At first I really just wanted a break.”

You didn’t reply, remaining stubbornly silent, though the sudden anger that had filled your entire being left you, the pain in your leg overpowering it.

“I’m really happy I got to see you today”, Jin admitted after a long silence.

You shut your eyes, head hanging low. Until he wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you in his embrace. Tears rolled down your cheeks but you didn’t move, didn’t say anything. You wanted to enjoy the warmth of him once more. For the last time, perhaps.

“I like your hair”, he continued.

You had cut it short, after him. Gone were the long locks cascading down your back: your hair was shoulder-length now.

“Thank you”, you whispered, your voice breaking at the end.

Jin only tightened his hold on you, as he rested his chin on top of your head. He didn’t speak for a long time. If you were in his head, you’d know that his heart was shattered, had been shattered since that night you had told him not to come back. You’d know letting you go had been the hardest thing he had ever had to do, and that he’d take it back if he could. He wasn’t sure you wanted that too.

“Do you know why I went to the gazebo?” he asked, with the tiniest voice he could muster up.

“Why?”

“I hoped I was going to find you there, like that summer we met.”

You pushed away from him, so you could look him in the eyes. So you could see the truth in his dark gaze, and in the sad smile that adorned his lips.

“You remember?”

You were startled to see a tear rolling down his cheek. “How could I forget?”

Your gaze fell and your eyes caught on the glint of a chain disappearing in his dress shirt. “We had fun that summer.”

He nodded slowly. “We did. It’s crazy to think that it’s been thirteen years.”

You had never really thought about it, but it was true. You had met Jin in 2010, the year he had become a trainee. Even with the busy schedule that it had entailed, you had still managed to meet up at the gazebo, until you were in love thinking you were going to spend your lives together.

Oh how you had been wrong.

“It’s sad that the gazebo is all rotted now”, you whispered, and your eyes moved back up to his face.

“How’s your leg?” he asked.

You didn’t have time to reply before the blaring siren of the ambulance rose in the distance as it moved closer to you. “You know I’m not sure an ambulance was needed”, you said again. And you glanced at your leg, paling once again at all the blood. Though it wasn’t bleeding all that much anymore, most of it had just dried on your skin.

“If you got cut by a nail you want to make sure you get it checked by a doctor”, he said. “You might need shots for tetanus too.”

He was right, and to have him care for you like that… it had your heart squeezing in your chest all over again.

“I could have asked my parents to drive me”, you murmured, face turning away from him.

He shrugged, offering you a small sad smile. “Let me take care of you. Just this one last time.”

New tears filled your eyes and had it not been for the ambulance finally arriving, you would have burst out crying right then. You were glad the paramedics saved you the embarrassment, even as Jin insisted to accompany you in the ambulance. Even as he sat next to you, holding your hand as one of the paramedics took a look at the cut.

Seeing the wound had you paling even more, so you looked away, focusing on Jin’s hand in yours. On the feeling of him next to you, like he had been all these years ago. And he remained by your side all through the trip to the hospital, not once letting go of your hand, except when the doctor had a nurse inject a vaccine shot in your arm.

Only then did he let you go, only to grab your hand again right when the shot was done.

When the wound was dressed and you were all ready to go, Jin walked with you to the front door, hands deep in his pockets. You hadn’t spoken much during the whole ordeal, but his comforting presence had your heart squeeze in your chest with memories of the past. With what-ifs and could-have-beens that felt sour even as you stepped outside in the fresh air of the night.

“Thank you”, you whispered as you walked side by the side, the sounds of the city meeting your ears once again, with you stumbling a little as the doctor had requested for you to use crutches for a few days. Just so you didn’t put weight on your leg, until the wound had started healing and didn’t threaten to open up again.

Jin’s gaze slid to your profile, lingering there for a moment too long before he spoke again. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

You stopped in your tracks, almost falling face first as you still weren’t quite used to walking with crutches. Jin stopped in front of you, turning to face you with a look on his face that you hadn’t seen in forever. An open door you hadn’t expected to see again. Some part of you wanted to shut the door, to run away while you still could, to end the relationship the right way, but a bigger part of you wanted to see him again. To know that he wasn’t fully gone from your life. Maybe it was a mistake, but you found you were too much of a coward to say no.

“I…” you trailed off, eyes falling in the void making up the space between you. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

You heard him gulp before he replied. “We can just talk. It could be… great, to talk again.”

Your eyes filled with tears once more, as they seemed to be doing quite a lot today. You slowly shook your head, gaze moving back up to his. The light in his eyes died at the sight of your tears, and he just stood there, unmoving, as if he had stopped breathing altogether.

“Why would we talk again?” you whispered, gaze shying away from his again. “Why would we do that to ourselves when we know it’s just going to hurt in the end?”

One of his hands moved up to his face, and you only then realized that he was crying too. “It doesn’t have to hurt.”

“You broke up with me, Jin”, you said, anger suddenly flaring up in your chest, a little like it had back then. All of a sudden, from a place in you that felt foreign to your usual calm behaviour. “We are over.”

His eyes were shut when you looked at his face again. “I’m sorry I asked.” He slowly shook his head, and you watched his features, committing them to memory as his bottom lip trembled. “I’ve just…”

When he didn’t say anything for a time, you found yourself wishing you hadn’t refused. Because seeing him hurting like that undid you, made you want to brush away the tear that rolled down his cheek, made you want to pull him in your embrace and never let him go.

You had never really stopped loving him, hadn’t you?

“You could come to the restaurant”, you suggested, with the smallest voice you had been able to muster up. Because it spoke against the sense in your head, against your will to protect yourself from the man that had destroyed you.

He didn’t say anything for a time, didn’t move at all. The only thing that moved was the tear on his cheek that finally reached his jaw. You watched it fall from his face, slowly, until you couldn’t distinguish it in the night anymore.

“If you want me to”, he finally said, his tone matching the one that had taken over your own voice.

You gulped, finding yourself unable to speak. As much as you were afraid, you wanted to see him again. Didn’t want tonight to be the last night you’d gaze at the man you had once loved as much as you had. The one that you still loved, though you couldn’t quite tell if the love was the same as it had once been.

Because memories… memories made one feel like they did once, even if the true feelings were gone. As if the soul still remembers, and echoes of the love reaches it sometimes. Reaches the darkest corners of one’s heart, lighting it up for a time before letting it fall into darkness once again.

“If you really want me to, I’d love to come to the restaurant”, he repeated as you remained silent.

You slowly nodded, taking a deep breath to ease the ache in your heart, though it made you focus on the numb pain that still adorned your leg. You moved a little, putting more weight on your uninjured leg as Jin watched you carefully, trying to lessen the pain.

“Okay”, you let out. “Yes. I could make you some kimchi jiggae.”

His eyes lit up, and he slowly nodded his head, a little like you had done just a few seconds ago. “I would love that.” He chuckled then, as if in disbelief, before speaking again. “I could help you, so you don’t do all the work.”

It was strange to hear him say that. As much as he had helped you with cooking back then, it felt strange to hear him say those words. As if they meant more, as if they meant something you had needed to hear three years ago, that night your relationship had died. It made you anxious about the whole ordeal, but you didn’t find the strength to look away, didn’t find the courage to tell him it wasn’t a good idea. The only thing you wanted was to add one more thing, yet the words didn’t reach your lips, dying somewhere in your throat, choking it up with nostalgia and apprehension.

Please don’t break my heart again.

 *****

                 You didn’t remember the last time you had been so anxious. As if the whole world was on your shoulder tonight, and a single faux pas would send it crumbling down into chaos. You had been trembling for a while, clammy hands endlessly rearranging the ingredients for the meal you’d cook tonight. You had swept the floors so many times already you were pretty sure you hadn’t forgotten a single speck of dust in the whole place. Yet the anxiety didn’t leave you, rendering you unable to do anything else than pick at your nails.

Your leg had healed, in the few weeks since you had last seen Jin. You hadn’t been able to organize the dinner earlier considering Jin had been busy with work and you hadn’t been able to close the restaurant for a night before. Jin had offered to pay for renting the restaurant for the night, but you had refused, feeling weird about having your ex pay you that way.

You had a scar now where you had ripped your skin on the nail of the gazebo. It wasn’t a straight line, even with the stitches that you had gotten with Jin that night. It was mostly healed now and you had gotten the stitches taken out a week ago, but it still hurt a little, the skin feeling as if it was strangely stretched. It often itched, and you had to resist the urge to scratch it, to play with it the way you had been playing with the scar in your heart.

That scar was different. New, in a way you didn’t quite understand. Maybe because it had been a gaping hole for so long while Jin was gone from your life. It had taken closure and a wound for the hole to finally heal, to finally come together as one again. It made life different, somehow. You weren’t stupid as to why, hope painted everything in pastel and softness. And you hated that you were hopeful, but you had seen something in Jin’s eyes that night. Something you didn’t think you had seen since way before you had moved in together.

You refused to put a word on it, to give it meaning. Because giving it meaning would give it power, power to break you. You didn’t want to get hurt again yet you were excited about tonight. Anxious, yes, but excited nonetheless.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as your eyes slid to the time on your phone once again. You were sitting on a high stool with one leg bouncing up and down as you waited for Jin to arrive. He had texted to say he was going to be late because of some unexpected traffic, promising that he was doing his best to come as quickly as he could. He had then sent you a bunch of screenshots from his groupchat with the rest of the members, with laughing emojis at how the boys had reacted when he had announced that you were getting dinner together tonight. They all were excited, way more than you had expected them to be, and Namjoon had even texted you saying to let him know if Jin was being a dick, so he could beat him up for you.

You didn’t know how to feel about it, but to have Jin be comfortable enough to share with you what the boys had said warmed your heart in some way. Even if they had all been teasing, saying stuff you weren’t sure they had expected you to read.

It didn’t really matter, because you hadn’t been able to stop smiling even with all the anxiety.

You sighed once again, breath shaking a little as it came out, and your heart stopped beating in your chest when you received a text. Unfortunately, it was from your mom, saying that she was ready to murder Jin if he so much as hurt you again.

You winced as you read the words. You were typing in your reply when your phone started vibrating in your hand, Jin’s name appearing at the top. This time, your heart stopped for good, and you watched the name for a while before finally answering the call.

“Hey”, you said, voice sounding a little strained. You scraped your throat as Jin greeted you on his side of the line.

“I’m at the door”, he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. It made your heart start beating again, with warmth and butterflies that felt treacherous.

You pushed the anxiety aside as you got up. “I didn’t leave it unlocked?” you asked, and you started walking towards the entry.

“Oh, you did, just wanted to hear your voice already”, Jin replied, and you stopped in your tracks.

This time, the butterflies didn’t feel quite as treacherous, and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. “Well, come in, come in”, you said, and blush crept on your cheeks as Jin told you he was already in.

It didn’t take him more than a few seconds to appear in your line of sight, and you almost dropped your phone at the sight of him.

He had styled his hair back, and not a single strand stood out of place. He was wearing a black pair of dress pants, with a white shirt tucked in that hugged his body perfectly. His lips were stretched in a smile that tugged at the corners, making his eyes shine a little. He had a slight flush on his cheeks that made him seem so real and not a distant invention of your brain, and you wondered for a time how it was possible for a man like you to want to get dinner with a woman like you.

Jin was also holding a bouquet of red roses, and he had a bottle of wine under his arm. You knew it was an Antu without having to read the label and you grinned as he stopped.

“Hi”, he said again. He hung up the call as you just stood there awkwardly. “I… brought you roses.”

You slowly nodded, before taking a few steps towards him. “You didn’t have to”, you replied, a little breathlessly. It made you blush even more, cheeks turning dark as you stopped in front of him.

“I wanted to”, he said, shrugging. “That’s why I was late.”

Your eyes that were on the flowers moved up until you met his gaze, and your grin turned into a soft smile. “Then you really didn’t have to.”

You grabbed the roses, breathing in their scent while Jin watched you carefully, as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were real or not. A little like you had been watching just a moment ago, in truth.

“Is your leg healed now?” he asked, as the hand that had been holding the bouquet moved to grab the bottle of wine.

You nodded before turning around to go find a vase or something that could hold the flowers until you went home later. Jin followed you putting the wine down next to the ingredients, and you watched him from the corner of your eyes as he picked up some stuff, inspecting them before leaning against the counter and looking at you.

“I have missed eating your kimchi jiggae so bad”, he said, voice full of truth.

You avoided his gaze as you rummaged through the cupboards, hands settling on a cauldron, one you usually used for soups. You put the flowers in it before carrying it towards the sink.

“Well, good thing you’re here tonight”, you finally said, once you had turned the tap on and had no reason to avoid his gaze again.

He smiled with that heart-shaped mouth of his and you felt the anxiety dwindling away to nothingness, replaced by a warmth that settled in your whole body, in your whole soul as you just held his gaze, echoing the softness in his eyes.

“Thank you”, he murmured, and you only knew he said the words because you could read them on his lips.

Your gaze slid away as you moved to turn off the tap before picking up the cauldron to move it to the counter. “What for?”

“For accepting to meet up tonight”, he replied without a beat of silence. “I’m not sure I deserve it, but I’m really happy you said yes.”

You pursed your lips, shrugging a little. “Let’s not do that.”

He seemed confused for a time, much like you were. Because you didn’t know what you had meant and it sounded arrogant, somehow. It made you blush again and your gaze dropped to the tiles of the floor.

“I mean… not like that we shouldn’t…” you trailed off, shaking your head, “I mean, we shouldn’t think about the past.” You took a steadying breath, before meeting Jin’s gaze again. “We should start anew.”

He nodded, round eyes filling with agreement. “Yes. Let’s start on a new page.”

You nodded too, before letting out a small nervous laugh. “Perfect.”

And though the air had turned a little awkward, you moved closer to Jin and the ingredients, and soon enough you found yourself relaxing next to him, heart warming each time he laughed. And he did laugh a lot, just like he had when you had met him back then. It was something that you had always found endearing about him, something that had made you fall in love in the first place.

Sometimes, his laugh raised wariness in you, as if some part of you wanted to protect yourself from him. But it was hard to be pessimistic with him by your side, with his rolled-up sleeves and hands digging in the food as you showed him what to do. He looked happy, and that most of all stopped the wariness before it could kill the atmosphere.

And the atmosphere felt heavenly after years apart. As if you were taken back to the first days of your relationship. As if you were in that gazebo again, learning what love was. Learning what it meant for one to become two, and for two to become one again. Until your souls were entwined in a fragile tapestry; a tapestry that had been shred to pieces by the pandemic.

When Jin laughed, his whole face lit up, and his happiness bled to the space surrounding him. It was contagious, his happiness, until you found yourself laughing along with him, teasing him like you had back then. It only seemed to make him all the happier, and you found yourself wiping happy tears from the laughs you shared.

“Wait, wait, wait”, Jin said, interrupting the words you had been saying. You weren’t quite sure your sentence had been all that coherent, and you fell into silence as Jin repeated the word again, before adding, “You haven’t played Maple Story since that day?”

You laughed, hiding your face in your hands. “You know I’ve never been a big gamer.”

“Yet you always said you were better than me!” He shook his head, offense painting his features. “You’re a fake fan.”

“Oh please”, you said, chuckling as he let out a small laugh. “I still have the game. I’m sure I only need a little time before I can officially be better than you again.”

He squinted his eyes, wetting his lips. “Good luck with that. I’m at the top of my art.”

“Are you now?” You rolled your eyes, right as he nodded forcefully.

“Oh, I definitely am.”

You shared another laugh, before a comfortable silence raised around you.

You were currently sitting in one of the private rooms of the restaurant and you had put on some music to create an atmosphere that would feel more comfortable for the both of you with music you had used to listen to when you were dating. Jin had insisted on lighting candles and dimming the lights until romance heated up the air. The food was long eaten and the empty bowls between you were witnesses of Jin’s love for your kimchi jiggae. Indeed, he had finished every last bit of it as if he was a starved man.

You met his gaze right as a new song started, a slow ballad that you had used to dance to in the gazebo. It brought you to years ago, to a decade ago, even, and a knowing smile moved on his lips.

“Shall we?”

He motioned to the space surrounding you before extending his hand for you to take. Your eyes moved to it, skimming over his fingers and his perfectly manicured nails before going back to his face.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” you asked, and heaviness moved in your heart.

It didn’t go unnoticed to Jin, and his hand fell to the table. Still close enough for you to take, but not a clear invitation like it had been a moment ago.

“I’m not sure about anything in this world”, he said, shrugging his shoulders, and his own gaze dropped to his hand. “I just know I’ve been thinking about you since Nari and Joonwoong’s baby shower.”

As you had been. You gulped, wetting your lips. “I’m scared…”

His eyes fell shut, and he looked infinitely pained for a time. “I only have myself to blame for that.” He chuckled bitterly, and it made you want to grab his hand. To grab his hand and say fuck it. After all, you couldn’t win anything without risk. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

His eyelids fluttered open until your gazes met again. “What if it doesn’t work?” you murmured.

“Then we’ll be able to say we tried.”

He wasn’t wrong, and even though every part of you knew trusting him with your heart again was a mistake, your hand moved until your fingers grazed his. “Can we take it slow?”

His fingers reached up until they wrapped around yours. His touch was soft and warm, just like you remembered it, and it finished healing the hole in your heart, until the only thing you could feel was the warmth you could also find in his gaze.

“Yes.” His grip tightened around your fingers and he slowly got up. “We can take it as slow as you want to.”

You got up too, soon finding yourself facing him. He brought your hand to his shoulder before grabbing the other one.

“You know”, he said, voice low, as he started guiding you in that slow waltz in which your love had been born. “I almost came back that night.”

You shut your eyes, letting him guide you for a time as an old ache awoke in you. “I ran after you.” You sighed, breath coming out a little shakily, before meeting his gaze again. “I got a cold from running after you in the rain.”

He gulped, and you watched his Adam apple bobbing up and down. “I’m sorry.”

You had needed to hear those words since forever, yet they didn’t feel like you had thought they would. You had thought they would be liberating, but all they did was bring you back to those days after he had left.

“Don’t be”, you said, brushing it off with a shrug of your shoulders.

You didn’t want to give the past power over the night you were currently sharing. Over the hope that had been inhabiting you in the last few weeks.

“I’ll still be, but I can refrain from telling you.” He offered you a small smile, and your eyes dipped to his lips.

“I mean”, you said, mind searching for a joke to say to lighten the air around you. “It felt as if I was in a drama for a time. You let me live my main character arc for a time.”

That made him laugh, a sweet laugh that tugged at the corner of your own lips. “And look at us today, slow dancing. Maybe this is our season two.”

You chuckled, nodding your head, even as his words echoed your earlier wariness. “Or it’s a spin-off season, for those who don’t like sad endings.”

“I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

You stumbled a little and it made you stop dancing just as you looked at him. And you looked at him for a long time, unable to gaze away. Unable to stop the panic that found your heart, even as you had thought you were fine. You just looked at him, blanching, until your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like leaving.

“Y/n?”

“This is not a good idea.”

You stepped away from him, walking towards the speaker so you could turn off the music. Jin didn’t move, as if too stunned to react, and you stood with your back turned to him as a new silence filled the air.

“Y/n…”

“No.” You shook your head. “Don’t say my name like that.”

“Why are you panicking?”

Maybe you were the one who couldn’t let the past be in the past.

You chuckled dryly, shaking your head again. “You broke my heart, Jin. We didn’t work and you broke my heart and I haven’t even been able to look at anyone else after you.” You were shaking, but you couldn’t stop anymore. “And then you came to gather your stuff while I was gone and I came back to an empty apartment. Your letter destroyed me.” A tear rolled on your cheek, and you wiped it away angrily. “And the boys stopped talking to me while you still talked to Nari and Joonwoong and the others and it’s fucking unfair.”

“Y/n”, Jin murmured, voice infinitely soft.

“I’m not fucking done”, you let out.

No, all the pain and rage you had felt back then came rushing back to you. It needed to come out, as it had needed to come out for the last three years. No dam could stop it anymore.

“I haven’t stopped loving you, even though you hurt me so bad I couldn’t even eat for weeks. I lost almost twenty pounds because food tasted too ashy after you. My parents forced me to take a break from the restaurant because of it.” You paused, and your heart felt as if it was shattered in your chest, and you were stepping on all the jagged pieces. “Do you know how pathetic I was? I have barely recovered and here you are coming back into my life expecting me to give myself to you again. What are you going to do this time?” You laughed, before turning to look at him. You took in the sight of his widened gaze, but it didn’t stop the words that were spilling from your mouth. “You’re going to kill me, Jin. I can’t allow myself to be with you again because you’re going to kill me.”

And as suddenly as you had started speaking, you fell silent, with only your tears rolling on your cheeks. Jin watched you for a while, still too stunned to speak, his eyes searching your features as if they’d find an answer as to why you were panicking. When he found none, his gaze dropped to the floor and words found their way to his own lips.

“It wasn’t working anymore and you know it too”, he said. He sounded resigned, as if he was only then realizing that you were over. “I took the cowardly way out, I know. I haven’t been able to be with anyone either. And I tried. But I’ve been comparing everyone to you and no one can compare. You’re the one that got away and I would sell my soul to the devil to change it.” His eyes met yours again, and you watched as his bottom lip trembled. “I don’t want to hurt you again. As a matter of fact I just want to stop hurting. When I was at that dinner with the boys and their girlfriends I just wanted you to be there. You deserved to be there and I was fucking stupid to not do what you asked me to do back then.”

Seeing him cry broke your heart again, reforming the hole you had imagined was gone. So you shut your eyes, focusing on your breathing to stop the pain from reaching you. It was a stupid thing to do, considering the pain inhabited your whole soul, but it was all you could do to try to survive.

“The worst part is that I thought I had made the right decision. I thought I had made the right decision until I saw you the other day and realized that I haven’t been happy since I lost you. I work and I perform and I am not happy. Life fucking sucks without…”

“Leave”, you breathed.

A single small word that stopped Jin’s sentence. Stopped his heart too, you imagined. Because you knew he was aching. He was aching and you were aching and you weren’t quite sure there existed a world out there where you’d have the courage to be with him again. So, you told him to leave again, screamed at him to go until he looked at you one last time from over his shoulder. And then he was gone, and his absence felt wrong.

Everything felt wrong.

You sat on the floor, pulling your legs to your chest as you cried. You cried for the heart that had been broken three years ago, and for the one you were trying to protect today. Because ending things with Jin and not letting him in was the only way you knew that could protect you.

But why did it feel so wrong?

Your crying subsided quicker than you had expected, leaving you feeling drained. Drained from all the happiness you had felt with Jin tonight. And you had felt a lot, because you too hadn’t been happy since you had lost him. You hadn’t been happy for a single moment after him. You had survived, had been content with the life you had been living, but nothing had been able to bring you happiness like Jin had been able to.

Maybe letting him go again was the wrong thing to do. Maybe it felt wrong because you didn’t want to let him go. Only wanted to hold him against you again until your heart forgot it had ever ached.

You were up before the thought had finished forming in your mind, and you ran out of the room. You turned in the hallway and let out a startled shriek as your foot caught in something. You regained footing a second later, and your eyes moved down.

Jin was sitting on the floor, with his legs stretched in front of him. Tears stained his cheeks, and he looked so broken it had a sob forming in your throat again.

You fell to your knees, right next to him, arms wrapping around his neck until you were holding him tight against you. His arms immediately circled your waist, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your neck. He let out a small broken sound as you cried against him and his own tears wet the fabric of your shirt as you kept holding on to him.

“Please don’t leave again”, you breathed against his neck.

“I was not going to leave again.” A sob fell from his mouth, and he held you even tighter. “I don’t want to leave again.”

You nodded against him, nuzzling your face in the warmth of his neck. You didn’t move for a time, as you both cried. Cried for your broken hearts and for the pain that you had put each other through. You weren’t quite sure you’d be able to forgive Jin, but you had to try.

It was all you could think of as you pulled away until you could gaze at his face. At the tears that were still rolling down his cheeks, and at his blood red eyes.

“Don’t cry”, you murmured, and your hands moved to his cheeks so you could dry the tears away.

He chuckled, resting his head against the wall behind him. “You’re crying too.”

“I’m going to kiss you”, you said, ignoring his comment.

You didn’t wait for him to reply before crashing your lips on his. He didn’t even seem startled, and his mouth started to move against yours immediately, right as one of his hands moved up your back until it found the hair at the back of your head. His fingers tangled in your hair right as he turned his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You kissed him with everything you had in you. With all the pain, all the anger, and all the love that still remained, even after all the hardships. You kissed him as if it was your last day on Earth, until you weren’t quite sure you were breathing anymore. And maybe you had been right, because kissing him felt like it was killing you. Not in a bad way, no, in a way that was making you feel alive again. That made you feel as if you had died and reached heaven.

You’d be damned if you’d leave your heaven.

You ran a hand through his hair, undoing the perfect style, just so you could pull at the long strands a little. He answered by making you straddle him, and he grinded up into you once the moment your legs were on each side of his thighs. You started kissing again then, but it was different. Angrier. Hungrier. Needier.

You’d never get enough of him again.

The hand Jin had tangled in your hair moved down, until he was holding you by the nape of your neck, fingers grazing the side of your neck in that place he knew made you go crazy. You grinded your hips, instinctively, and he took that as a cue to move his hand to your throat, thumb digging on one side while the rest of his fingers pressed on the other side.

You moaned, a little breathlessly, and one of your hands found his neck too. You choked him, just like he was choking you, and he chuckled in the kiss.

“I missed you so much”, he said against your lips before pulling away. He rested his head against the wall once more, and his eyes fluttered open at the same time as yours did. Your grip on his throat relaxed, and your fingers moved until they were caressing his jaw, right as his hand moved back to your waist.

“I missed you too”, you murmured, and a fresh wave of hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

Jin immediately moved to wipe your cheeks dry, hands lingering on your face as he cupped it gently. Your gazes locked, and you just looked at each other for a time, as if time hadn’t torn you apart. As if you had caught up to him in the night that day and had kept him from leaving.

You wondered if you would be married now, had you found him. Had you begged him to stay. You doubted it. There was something different about Jin now, something more mature, something that worked better with what you wanted in a life partner. You had been able to see it all night in his willingness to help, in his wish to clean the dishes before you ate, in the way he had kept the atmosphere light even though it could have fallen into darkness with just a single faux pas.

And the way he was holding you now… it was reassurance. Reassurance that maybe, finally, your struggles had come to an end. That you had found your way back to the place you belonged, by his side. Not behind him, not in his past, but right beside him, with your heart forever beating in sync with his.

The thought had you starting to kiss him again. A sweet and slow kiss, one that did wonders to the organ in your chest. Telling it that everything was fine. That everything would be fine again. Your lips moved slowly together, as if you had all the time in the world. And maybe you did. Maybe now you did.

Jin’s hands fell from your face to your hips, holding you close as yours cupped his face to deepen the kiss. He sighed against you, thumbs running chaotic patterns on the fabric of your pants until they moved up a little to find your skin underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched in your throat, but then again you weren’t quite sure you were breathing at all when Jin was kissing you like that.

This moment made you aware of one thing; all the sleepless nights, all the heartaches, all of it had been worth it now that you knew you’d find your way back to him. And maybe it was too soon to believe that, but your soul felt at ease for the first time in too long. It rendered it hard to think coherent thoughts.

“Do you want to come home with me tonight?” Jin whispered against your lips when you pulled away.

It was all the confirmation you needed.

“Bring me home”, you agreed, resting your forehead against him. “And don’t ever leave again.” You saw his lips stretch in a lazy smile through your half-lidded eyes.

“I will never leave again, I promise”, he murmured.

It made you pull away, and your eyes met. His gaze was lit up from within, corners slightly crinkled from the happiness that was in his heart. You recognized that look and knew better than to shy away from it. You knew it was echoed in your own gaze.

It was a promise of a forever that had been out of reach for so long. A forever you had finally reached, a forever you’d never let slip through your fingers again.

 *****

                 Jin lived at the highest level of a luxurious building that offered a view of Seoul in the night. The city sparkled with life, an ocean of stars that you found hard to look away from. Yet your eyes wandered to the space surrounding you seeing just how much it felt like him. It was simply decorated, with a few plants to bring life and colour to it. Jin’s proudest room was his gaming room, that he had lit up with LED lights and a neon sign from a game you didn’t know. It was a comfortable room with a couch against a wall in front of a large TV and a gaming set-up on the other side of the room. Bookshelves completed the decoration, with games and figurines littering the shelves, and the wide windows on the far wall showed that scenery you hadn’t been able to look away from since Jin had left to go to the bathroom.

You moved away from the window as you heard the familiar pattern of his steps walking back towards you, and he offered you a warm smile as he came into view.

“Why am I not surprised that you’ve wandered in here while I was gone?” he asked, as you both finished crossing the distance between each other.

You wrapped your arms around his waist resting your cheek against his chest as he hugged you closer, before leaving a small kiss on the top of your head.

“This room feels the most like you”, you breathed and his grip around you tightened a little.

“It’s my favourite room too.” He chuckled, and the sound reverberated where your ear touched his chest. “It’s every gamer’s dream.”

It made you laugh a little, as you pulled away to glance at your surroundings again. You hadn’t noticed before, but Jin owned many consoles too, a whole collection of them if you were being honest. From the first console he had probably played to the latest one that could be found on the market, Jin had everything one might dream to have.

“I can see that”, you said, and your eyes stopped on something that piqued your interest. “You have a VR console?” There was excitement in your voice, and Jin laughed again.

You were as cute as he remembered you to be.

“I do.” He looked at it, following your line of vision. “Do you want to try it?”

You pulled away from him to clap your hands excitedly. “Damn right I want to!”

He offered you one of his iconic laughs before moving towards the television to start setting up what was needed to play. You watched him do so, hands digging in your pocket as you rocked back and forth on your feet.

Once everything was ready, Jin handed you the whole thing, setting you up for a game of Beat Saber. The song started, and you rushed to move in the right way, failing after the first few seconds. Jin made fun of you, tickling you as you were unable to see him until you ended as a giggling mess on the floor, limbs entwined until you didn’t know who was who. It didn’t help that your eyes were still covered.

“Wait, stop it!” Jin said as you found his waist, digging your fingers in the tender skin.

You giggled but didn’t stop, up until he grabbed your two hands and put them over your head, before holding them into place with just one hand. He took off the VR headset, and his face came into view. His lips were parted, and your eyes dipped to them, unable to look away.

You had stopped crying a while ago, the high emotions finally leaving you, but to have him hovering over you like that brought you back to earlier, and tears threatened to fill your gaze again.

Jin seemed to notice, because he immediately bent down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, before meeting your gaze again. His eyes were painted in a sweet light and for a moment you wanted to just grab him and bring him closer. But you didn’t move, and a sweet look took over your features. It didn’t go unnoticed to Jin and he smiled before pecking your lips once.

“My turn”, he said, and he pushed himself up before holding out a hand to help you get up too. He pulled you up to your feet, and you watched as he grabbed the VR headset to adjust it to himself.

“What makes you think you’re going to be any better?” you asked, hands once again finding their way to your pockets.

Only because you were resisting the urge to hold Jin close to you. You’d have plenty of time to hold him later.

Jin threw you a no-bullshit look, before hiding his beautiful eyes behind the VR headset. “Because you were literally trash.”

“You’re annoying, you know that?”

He laughed as you chuckled. “I would apologize but I’m about to literally beat your ass in the game, so…”

“Good luck with that.”

It was ominous, the way you said the words, and it didn’t go unnoticed to Jin. “What is that supposed to mean?”              

“Nothing”, you replied, trying to instill as much innocence as you could in the small word.

Jin didn’t seem convinced, yet he still started a song. His movements were a lot more fluid than yours, as if he had learned the choreography a while ago and it was ingrained in his muscle memory. You let him play for a time, until you stood behind him. Far enough so he couldn’t tell you were there, but close enough for your treacherous hands to reach forward and tickle his sides.

He let out a loud screech, body flinging itself down as you held onto him, laughing heartily.

“I will kill you”, Jin threatened, and it only made your laugh double up, until you were on the floor next to him holding your stomach as your body shook.

Jin immediately attacked, Beat Sabers’ game long forgotten. His hands found your waist even as his eyes were still hidden behind the headset. And he tickled you hard, almost hard enough to hurt as you squealed and thrashed in his hold. He was far stronger than you and even as you grabbed his shoulders to push him away, Jin didn’t budge, tickling you until you started begging for mercy. He only then stopped, and your giggles slowly turned into heavy breathing as you tried to calm the wild beats of your heart.

Jin took off the headset, putting it down next to where he sat, before running a hand through his long-dishevelled hair. The gel he had used to style his hair earlier hadn’t held, but still he looked ethereal, like your brain was imagining him there.

To know he was as real as he would ever be had your heart constricting in your chest, so hard you sat up and grabbed his face to pull him into your embrace. He only slightly resisted, startled by your quick movements, but as soon as your lips found his, he relaxed in your arms, kissing you back with all the fire in his heart.

Jin tasted good. Like your favourite dessert after a long day. His hands roamed your body, pulling you closer until you were straddling him, as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. His lips were soft, like a flower’s petal, and they moved against yours hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. You let one of your hands wander up until it got lost in his long hair, with your fingers massaging his scalp the way you knew he liked.

The kiss was intense, with no place for breathing as you parted your lips and his tongue immediately darted forward, so your tongues were moving together. It made a small moan bubble up at the back of your throat, and Jin swallowed it as his grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging in the tender skin.

Right when you thought you would die from asphyxia, Jin pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. You breathed raggedly for a time, eyes closed as you basked in the proximity of him. Until he moved a little, and it had your conscience zeroing in on the spot where your body touched his, right between your legs. You forgot how to breathe for a moment then, as you instinctively grinded your hips on the length of the bulge in his pants.

His tight grip on your waist loosened up, hands falling to your hips so he could guide your movements. He made you grind on him again, as he pushed up a little, the glorious size of him pressing against your clothed self.

“Jin”, you breathed.

“I missed you so fucking much”, he replied and the end of his sentence was overshadowed by another small moan from you.

With lust clouding your mind, you found yourself unable to process if sleeping with Jin was a good idea. All you wanted was to feel him again, to hold him close until you’d be two moaning messes. From the way the bulge in his pants pressed against you, you knew he wanted the same thing. So, you captured his lips in another long kiss, teeth clashing together, and it was your turn to swallow the small breathy sound Jin let out.

When you pulled away, you opened your eyes, trying to find Jin’s gaze. His eyes remained stubbornly close, and you grabbed his cheeks, thumbs drawing circles on his skin.

“Please fuck me, Jin”, you whispered. His eyelids fluttered open, until your gaze found his dilated pupils. “Please fuck me like you never stopped loving me.”

His eyes went wide for half a second, before going dark with his lust for you. “I never stopped loving you”, he breathed, and it somehow sounded like a promise.

You didn’t have time to think more about it as he crashed his lips on yours again, sucking on your bottom lip until you let out a moan. Heat pooled at your core and you knew you were soaking up your panties by the seconds.

It wasn’t like you cared.

Jin moved, grabbing your back to hold you close before lying you on the floor, until he was hovering over you. You drank in the sight of him for a fraction of a second, but your eyelids shut tightly as he kissed you again. You ran a hand along his back as he nestled himself between your legs. He wrapped your legs around his waist before deciding better and hooking one on his arm until he had you spread wide open for him. He only then grinded into you again, hitting your clit in a way that had you see stars.

You pulled on his dress shirt, so it wasn’t tucked in his pants anymore allowing you free access to the warm skin of his back. You ran your nails on his skin, drawing shapes and lines for him to remember you, though you didn’t put a lot of pressure, not wanting to hurt him.

It didn’t matter that you knew Jin liked the pain. You didn’t feel like defiling his perfect skin just yet.

“Fuck”, Jin breathed in between two kisses. It made you smirk, only leading him to utter the small curse aloud again, right as he pulled away to take his shirt off.

Your eyes went down his frame, barely registering the chain around his neck. The sight of him was almost enough to make you go over the edge. Indeed, Jin had been working out, in the years you had spent apart. Body perfectly sculpted like he was a Greek sculpture, and you ran your hungry hands on the planes of him, fingers tracing his lines. He observed you, basking in the heat of your gaze on him, until he had enough and needed to feel your lips against his swollen ones again.

The kiss was short yet filled with desire and passion as Jin’s hands found their way to your breasts under your shirt. He squeezed them through your bra until he decided better and moved underneath that last bit of fabric, fingers tightening around your hardened nipples.

“Jin”, you breathed against his lips.

“Sit up”, he ordered as he kneeled between your legs. You obeyed, and he immediately took your shirt off before sliding his hands around your back so he could unhook your bra. It brought his neck close to your lips and you kissed at his skin, sucking on it just a little. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to have him squirm between your legs.

You could tell Jin loved it as he arched his neck giving you a better access right as your bra came undone. You took that as a cue to reach up, hand wrapping around the perfect column of his throat, squeezing just enough to cut his access to air. You sucked on his neck again then, right on the spot you remembered he loved, and he let out a choked sound that you recognized as a moan.

When you let go of his neck, Jin took in a sharp inhale of air before letting out a small chuckle. It made you smile, and your gazes locked for a second.

“Let’s go to my room before things get out of hand”, Jin said, offering you a grin that made you think things were already out of hand.

You refrained from saying so, only nodding your head to him. And even though you thought it’d be awkward to be shirtless next to him again, his warm hand wrapping around yours as he helped you up eased your nerves. You followed him to his room, letting your eyes roam on the skin of his back, from his broad shoulders down to the small tattoo of a seven. The tattoo surprised you, its black ink a stark contrast with the pale skin. You had never seen it before, but its simple style and size fit Jin well, like it had always been meant to be there.

“You have a tattoo now?” you enquired.

He nodded, glancing at you over his shoulder as you walked in his bedroom. “We all got a seven, yeah.”

Right. A seven for the seven members of BTS. It was endearing, that they had all gotten it tattooed, and it made a warm smile move on your lips.

Jin’s bedroom was simple, decorated with light furniture and a plant in a corner. He had hung up a pale painting over the bed, one you had seen many times before in the apartment you had shared with him. To see it again felt strange for a time, as if you had come home to a home that was slightly different. As if things were a little out of place, yet fit the picture perfectly.

And that was what it was. You were coming home to a man that had changed in the years apart, yet his heart still beat for you. The love had remained while the hate you both had felt at the end of your relationship was long gone, replaced with nostalgia and regret.

But tonight wasn’t about regretting. Tonight was about finding each other again after way too long apart.

Jin led you to his bed, letting go of your hand as you sat so he could reach for condoms in his nightstand. You watched him do so, hands instinctively covering your breasts. Jin glanced at you, lips spreading in a smirk as he noticed you hiding from his eyes.

“Don’t hide, your body is as perfect as I remember it to be.”

The compliment brought a light flush to your cheeks, but your hands didn’t move. Jin tutted, before putting down the condom he had fished from a box on the nightstand. He then moved closer to you, grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your breasts.

“I want to see you”, he said, voice low and husky. “I haven’t been able to see you for too long and my imagination couldn’t compare.”

Simple words, treacherous words, that had even more heat pooling between your legs.

“Well then come in this bed with me and make me forget that we ever broke up.”

His smirk only widened and he motioned to the pillows. “Make some room for me.”

You obeyed, ever so the good girl when it came to Jin. He followed you as you moved until your back was against the pillows. He kneeled in front of you catching your lips in a long kiss as his hands moved on your body, caressing your breasts until your nipples were perked again.

“So pretty”, he whispered against your lips, before sitting back on his heels to look at you properly. “Always so fucking pretty.”

You blushed again, but didn’t have time to reply before he started undoing the button of your pants. You watched him do so, eyes following his every move, and you finally helped him take off your pants once he started tugging them down your thighs. Before he had a chance to settle between your legs again, you moved to his belt, pulling on it to indicate that you wanted it off.

“You’re so impatient.” Jin chuckled but started undoing his belt nonetheless.

“I haven’t fucked since before we broke up so yeah, I’m a little impatient.”

Jin stilled, eyes searching your face for yours. When your gazes locked, you noticed a dark light in his eyes. Regret, entwined with all the nostalgia you had been feeling since the night you had seen him at the gazebo.

“You… what?”

You shied away from the intensity of his gaze, eyes falling on the spot where his abs started on his torso. “I just couldn’t.” You bit at your lower lip before shrugging your shoulders. “It doesn’t really matter.”

Jin let go of his belt to grab your cheeks, forcing you to meet his gaze again. “It matters to me.” He looked between your two eyes, as if wanting to make sure you were listening to every word he was about to say. “It matters to me and I will take my time with you tonight. You deserve it. I don’t know if I deserve it, but fuck, you do.”

His words were almost enough to bring tears to your eyes, but you refused to let sadness overpower your senses again. You instead focused on every place where your body was touching Jin’s, and on the warmth that was radiating from him.

“I just want you”, you breathed, and Jin slowly nodded.

“Oh, you’ll have all of me, I promise.”

It meant more. You knew it meant more and only understood why when you noticed the chain around his neck. In all the previous heat, you hadn’t seen it, but the chain ended between his two pecks, with the ring you had given him when you had gotten engaged.

You looked down at your own chest, and at the chain you were also wearing. Chain that ended with your own ring.

You wondered if Jin had noticed before you. Because you were so used to wearing the necklace, never taking it off, that you didn’t even see it anymore. And you felt stupid, for not seeing it around Jin’s neck before. For not knowing that he too had kept the proof of your love close to his heart, where it deserved to be.

“All of you?” you asked.

“Forever.”

You would have cried had he not kissed you again. A sweet slow kiss that calmed the ache in your chest until all you knew was your desire for him. For his body and soul, for his heart and the smile he always offered you first thing in the morning. Even when the relationship had been bad, Jin had always found the time to smile at you when your eyes first fluttered open.

You had been a fool to let that go.

Jin deepened the kiss, tilting his head to the side, and your tongue darted out of your mouth to taste his lips again. He sighed, and one of his hands moved down your frame, caressing your sides until he found his way between your legs. His touch was light over your panties, yet your breath hitched in your throat and you pulled away to look at him.

“You’re drenched”, he said, and his eyes fell to where his hand was touching you.

He pressed down harder right on your clit and you let out a small moan.

“Just for you”, you breathed.

He smirked, before slapping your pussy. “Such a good fucking girl.”

And just like that the atmosphere returned to its previous heat, nostalgia and regret long forgotten as Jin pushed your panties aside so nothing stood between his digits and your pussy anymore. He rolled circles on your clit with two fingers, pressing down just the way you liked it, until you became a panting mess, pussy clenching around nothing. Only then did he let his fingers wander down, circling around your entrance before pushing one finger in.

You grabbed his shoulders, head throwing back as he curled his finger until it hit your g-spot. It had you see stars, and your pussy clenched around him.

“You’re so tight”, he breathed.

You nodded, eyes tightly shut, as he pushed a second finger in. He gave you a second to adjust, before starting to move, slowly, fingers pushing in and out of you. It made a squelching sound, from how wet you were, and it sounded pornographic. Felt pornographic too, as Jin locked his lips on a spot beneath your ear, sucking on the skin until he had drawn a hickey there. He only then started moving faster between your legs, and his thumb found your clit as your hand found his hair, pulling at it until he was looking at you.

You looked down at his lips and he seemed to get the clue, closing the space between you as he kissed you. And he kissed you hard, soft lips swallowing every moan that you let out as he fingered you, increasing the speed every now and then until you could feel an orgasm forming on the horizon of your desire. Your thighs clenched around his wrist as you moaned a little harder, and he used his other hand to push them open again.

He pulled away from the kiss then, to take one look at your writhing frame, and then he bent down between your thighs. His tongue darted out to replace his thumb on your clit and the feeling of it had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“I’m going to come soon”, you said, last word turning into a moan as your pussy once again clenched around Jin’s fingers. He only started moving faster, as if he had kept the best for the last second before your orgasm would find you. And it did find you, right as he started sucking on your clit, tongue flicking it in time with his fingers.

You came hard, white light flashing into your vision as you were swallowed by the waves of pleasure. Jin rode you through your high, slowing down as it inched towards its end. When the last of it finally left you, his fingers pulled out, pushing in one final time before leaving you empty. He looked at you, waiting for your eyes to meet his. When you finally focused on his face, Jin pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead before moving to get up.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

He smirked. “Nowhere.” And as he said the word he finished taking off his pants and underwear, and they met the discarded clothes on the floor a second later.

Your eyes moved down to his dick that stood proudly against his lower stomach from how hard it was. It looked just as beautiful as you remembered, and just as big too. The head was red, violently so, as if it was about to burst and frankly, you were pretty sure Jin felt like that too. Like he was going to burst any minute now. And he winced as he put the condom on, as if it hurt him to do so, the friction teasing the sensitive organ.

You waited for him on the bed, watching him carefully, until he climbed back next to you. “On your stomach”, he ordered.

Once again, you obeyed him, turning around until you were lying on your stomach. Jin straddled you, his dick resting on your ass. He massaged your cheeks, before leaving a slap that had the skin tingle with welcomed pain.

“I missed this sight so fucking much, Y/n, you have no idea”, he said, voice so low you barely heard it. And then he was pulling away, his dick sliding against your ass until it found your entrance between your legs. “Let me know if I hurt you”, he gently said, and then he pushed forward, his dick penetrating you, stretching you open.

It burned and you clenched against him, hiding your face in the pillow.

“Are you okay?” Jin enquired, stopping halfway in.

You nodded, remaining silent as your hands held onto the covers of Jin’s bed. He still waited, giving you time to adjust before pushing in again, until all of him was embedded into you. He didn’t move for a long time then, eyes shut as he too took in the feeling of you. It was only when you moved your hips a little, telling him that you were ready that Jin started pulling out, only to push back in when only his tip was left inside of you.

You moaned, gripping the sheets harder, head turning so you could get a look of Jin’s face. His brows were knit together, lips parted as he fucked you slow, hands holding onto your hips. He caught your gaze, features relaxing ever so slightly. A wicked light moved in his eyes then, and he bent forward, the angle having him hit your g-spot each time he pushed in.

You breathed his name, and it sent all of his restraint down the drain as he started pounding into you, balls slapping against your clit with each move he made. It made you see stars, and your eyes shut as you let out a loud moan, right when his hand found your throat.

“Fuck”, you let out, and his fingers tightened around your throat, until the blood flow to your brain stopped and all your body could feel was the burning stretch of him inside of you. The deprivation of oxygen had your mouth falling open, and Jin moaned as you clenched against him hard before an orgasm hit you. He let go of your throat then, letting you breath as you moaned his name repeatedly. Your pussy clenched against him with each wave of your orgasm and soon enough Jin let out a grunt as his face fell on your shoulder, teeth digging into your skin as he came, releasing his load in the condom. You helped him through his high, moving your hips in time with his until he stopped moving altogether, teeth letting go of your skin. He kissed the spot he had bitten, before kissing the side of your face.

“I’m sorry”, he apologized.

Your eyes fluttered open, searching for his face. “What for?”

“I’m sorry I left”, he said, and there was a sudden tear rolling down his cheek. “And I’m sorry I only lasted a few minutes.”

You didn’t hear his second sentence, your whole world having stopped on the first one. “Don’t be. You came back.”

“I still love you so much”, he admitted. He pulled out of you, before lying down on the bed next to you. “I think I love you even more now.”

There were tears blurring your vision too as you turned on your side so you could face him. “I haven’t stopped loving you either.”

“Do you think we could work this time around?” he asked, vulnerability taking over his features.

And even though your mind was still clouded with the afterglow of the passion you had just shared, you knew the answer as if it was a rule of the universe.

“Yes, we can”, you said. “We can and we will.”

“You still want me?” He seemed as if he didn’t believe you, as if he thought he didn’t deserve you. You were pretty sure he felt like that, and as much as you had tried to hate him for so long, you hadn’t been able to. Jin had always been your one, and always would be.

“Forever, remember?”

 *****

                 The rays of the sun twirled in the air from the window in the high ceiling forming a small rectangle of light on the floor. Your mind focused on it as all eyes followed your every move. You could barely see the plants decorating the venue even though you had spent hours choosing which ones you’d like. There was a small crack in the floor where the light hit it and you carefully avoided it as you walked forward with only the sound of your beating heart as music to accompany the march down the aisle.

You were pretty sure there was music playing, but all your senses had given up on you when you had seen Jin waiting for you at the end of the aisle. You couldn’t even feel the weight of your father’s hand on your arm, or the fabric of your dress brushing your skin.

No, all there was was the man you loved waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

You continued walking in sync with the beats of your heart. Jin had tears in his eyes and he wiped one of them from his cheek as you moved closer, gazes laced in an intimate embrace. It didn’t matter that your mother had invited a whole crowd to the wedding. It was like you and Jin were alone in your own little world.

It was perfect.

Your father gave you away to Jin, speaking words of tradition that you could barely hear as you watched Jin. He was beautiful today, with perfectly styled hair and bright eyes, Jin was the most beautiful man in the world. In your world. When it was time to turn towards the celebrant, Jin whispered ‘hi’ to you, and it was all you could do not to burst into tears right then and there.

Tears of joy, of course.

You said your vows, following a westernized version of a wedding, though you were to celebrate it in a more traditional way later today, with you changing in a hanbok along with Jin’s mother and your own. It was something you had always wanted; a modern wedding, completely separated from the traditional wedding your parents had wished you to have. Something so everyone would be pleased. And it wasn’t like the ceremonies were long; with everything going down perfectly, you knew you’d be out by the end of the afternoon.

You couldn’t wait for the evening. For this first evening as husband and wife and the honeymoon that Jin had planned for you both.

“I do”, Jin spoke the words, bringing you back to reality.

You repeated the words when you had to, before finishing the ceremony with a kiss that ended with you and Jin gazing at each other.

A promise of forever was lighting his eyes now. It had been lighting his eyes for the whole of your relationship if you were being honest. Even when things had been rough, Jin still had that light in his eyes. You had just become blind to it, mind closed off to the man you loved.

You would never let that happen again. And your relationship did work now. Smoothly and perfectly, as if you had never hit a bump in the road at all. You knew it’d stay that way forever. Because that was what Jin and you were. A representation of what forever meant. Love, in its purest form, knitting two hearts together until it was one, beating forever in unison.

Until death do us apart.

The ceremonies went well, families and friends smiling and shedding happy tears with you. The BTS boys sang a song for their older brother, one that had you cry from how much you loved them too. Your little brothers that you had finally found again after years apart. The reunion had taken place a few weeks before the wedding. It had been happy in a sad way, with you and Jungkook crying as you had hugged. Even Yoongi had shed a tear and you had held him a little longer while his girlfriend had offered you a sweet smile over his shoulder.

It was strange to see all of them with their significant others, yet it had filled you with pride. They had all grown up, had become men and adults, and even though you still remembered the days of their first dorm, of the fights and happy moments, you were glad that they had grown. That they’d keep growing in the arms of the person they loved.

After the ceremonies you made your way home with Jin. Hand in hand, souls entwined, you walked into the home you shared with him now. You had moved back in with Jin in the weeks following your reunion and had decided to get married as soon as possible, just waiting for a break in his schedule so you could take a few weeks off, just the two of you away from the rest of the world. Jin had planned to bring you to Jeju island and then you were supposed to go to Europe, road tripping the continent.

You were excited for the honeymoon, but you were mostly excited to spend some time alone with Jin. To spend the rest of your life by his side and to have children that you’d raise together. Knowing you were going to get to spend the rest of your life with him was the most beautiful feeling in this world.

“Wife”, Jin said as he held the door open for you.

You gazed at his lovesick eyes, “Husband.”

He grinned, warmth spreading in the air surrounding him. “Wife”, he repeated. He then chuckled, looking down at the floor. “I can’t believe I get to call you wife.”

You walked in, pulling him in behind you. “Can’t believe I get to call you husband.”

“Finally.” He winked at you, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You kissed him back, hands running along his arms before they found the nape of his neck. Your fingers played with his hair, as his hands held your hips.

“Finally”, you agreed as you pulled away.

He pressed a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered open.

“You are mine”, he breathed. “My wife.”

“My husband.”

“Forever?” His question held the world in it. As if it was more a statement than a question. As if he was asking the universe, and not you. Yet you knew the answer, knew he was your forever too.

“Forever.”

  ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Wow, I hope you loved it! a long read once again but it seems I can’t do anything else than that hahaha

Don’t hesitate to leave some reviews, it always helps me with writing!

If you want to read the other establishments in the Life Goes On series, just follow this link!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Taglist (let me know if you want to be on my taglist):

@chimchimmarie​ |

#btswritersclub #forever #kim seokjin #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin angst #kim seokjin fluff #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin ff #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #ksj #ksj smut #ksj angst #ksj fluff #ksj fanfic #ksj fanfiction #ksj fic #ksj x reader #ksj x you #jin fanfiction #jin smut #jin fanfic #jin fic #jin angst #jin fluff #jin x reader #jin x you #life goes on

[kiestrokes]

How BTS Would React to You Coming Home Drunk (and Horny) from a Night Out with Friends | NSFW

Pairing: BTS x Reader/You/Yn (some gendered + some non-gendered) Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 691ish Genre: scenario/imagine, smut, sprinklings or crack/fluff, established relationships. Warnings: mentions of drinking (consensual drunken behavior between partners), reader is wearing a dress because ease of access.

Sexually Explicit Content: penetration (penis is whatever you want to imagine: vagina/ass), cunnilingus, fellatio, nipple play, cockwarming, kissing/making out, overstiumulation, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything!

🗝️ Note: I’ll format this tomorrow. But in tradition of when this imagine was made, that’s a sober Kie problem. A repost from @/goodsoop. Edited 8/20/23 to include warnings!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted here. 

KSJ: would be mildly "unapproving" of your loose behavior but would fix himself a double and quickly get on your level. Until you both were drunk, loudly playing video games on the couch of the game room. This of course escalates into you attempting to cheat by climbing into his lap. You end up getting distracted by his beautiful lips and it turns into a sloppy, laughter filled fuck on the sectional. Jin boasts that he, of course, won. In the game and in getting you off.

MYG: was asleep when you drunkenly climbed into bed, laying on top of him Jung-Hoseok-spread-eagle style. Grumbles about the fact you’re going to have a hangover tomorrow. Slips out from under you and begins to remove your clothes. Batting away your wandering hands that are attempting to climb under his shirt. He leaves you passed out on top of the covers to get water and pain reliever. Returning to your sad attempt at getting yourself off. Huffs at you to let him do it, because he secretly loves how pliable and vocal you are when he gives you head this way.

JHS: is also in bed, you strip down to your panties and climb under the covers with him. He sleepily pulls you back into him, large hands drifting down your bare body. You have no trouble rousing Hoseok for drunken foreplay, he’s already hard. But he just wants a little cock warming tonight. To feel you clench around him as he plucks your nipples between nimble fingers and drifts off into the wettest dream of his life.

KNJ: was up late reading, stands up to greet you, reading glasses still on. Catches your mouth just as you tug his face to yours. The two of you clumsily fumbling with each other across the living room. He curses as he accidentally drops you onto the coffee table. But you’re unharmed and laughing, hands already reaching to tug down his sweats. Giving him a thoroughly dedicated blow job. Until he coats your throat and is moaning at you to stop.

PJM: is waiting for you in the bedroom, watching a new drama. Waiting in his boxers for the return of handsy and affectionate you. This is the only time that you’re almost as touchy with him as he is you. You don’t even take your dress off, just drop your panties at the bedroom door. Climbing onto Jimin’s lap to kiss the lips you had been thinking about since your second drink. It’s slow and intense sex that has you both crying out from overstimulation.

KTH: is mopey of course that he couldn’t go with you and the "girls". Has a bit of a wine buzz and is dancing around the kitchen to some Leon Bridges. You slip into his waltz and Tae serenades you, spinning you around the island. Until you’re pulled into a mutual kiss like two magnets, charged by the music and alcohol pulsing through your veins. He pins you against the island with his husky, low groans. Fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, and under your panties until his fingers are coated in your essence. He swallows your cries of pleasure, murmuring quiet pleas against your lips, begging for you to take him out next time.

JJK: he of course is gaming when you get home. So you slip past him, dropping your clothes along the way to catch his attention. He grumbles to his teammates in frustration, excusing himself from the game. Running to catch up with you just as you make it to the bedroom door, nude as fuck. You squeal as he spins you around and peppers wet, open mouth, kisses from your neck to the top of your knees. Before folding you across the edge of the bed, ass bare to him. Making quick, erratic work of your orgasms. Before collapsing on top of you, his t-shirt collecting the sweat that had accumulated on your back. He abandons the game to climb into bed with you, cuddling naked.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

#imagines #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts senarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #knj smut #ksj smut #myg smut #jhs smut #pjm smut #kth smut #jjk smut #knj x reader #ksj x reader #myg x reader #jhs x reader #pjm x reader #kth x reader #jjk x reader #kim namjun #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoogni #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

[sugaurora]

Dream Come True [Teaser]

Coming Dec 8th

Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

Pairing: Med Student Seokjin x Plus Size Female Reader

Genre: PWP; Brother’s Best Friend; Friends to Lovers; Smut

Word Count: lmao, you know I don't know. 10k? 15k? Whatever!

Warnings: Explicit sexual content; unprotected sex, soft Seokjin, oral (m and f), fingering, of course they kiss a lot because that’s my brand, more tags to come!

Taglist: Join here!

Check under the cut for a tiny sneak peek! As usual, all writing is subject to change.

“Can I eat your pussy, beautiful?

You paused, unused to having someone ask the question rather than either avoiding the act entirely or diving in as they pleased. Although, considering what Seokjin had said about his past experiences…

“Has…has someone told you no before?”

“No, I just didn’t want to assume that you…” He trailed off and you felt his face dip a little lower into the crook of your neck. “I wanted to wait until you were awake,” he mumbled.

You barely managed to stifle a giggle. “We had sex half of last night. You still think I wouldn’t consent?”

“You could change your mind,” he said, the pout in his voice vibrating close against your skin. “I wanted to be sure.”

You turned in his arms. Seokjin’s dark hair was still roughly tousled from sleep and the soft pink of embarrassment had bloomed across his cheeks. You let loose a half laugh before planting your lips against his in what you hoped was a confidence-inspiring kiss.

“Yes, Seokjin,” you whispered against his lips. “I’d love it if you ate my pussy.“

Come get your pussy ate on the 8th! 😉💕💕

#writing #teaser #dream come true #ksj fic #ksj smut #seokjin smut #i warned you guys this was purely indulgent and highly pointless #i promise the story make no sense and everyone's gonna have to be ok with that #once again the goal is simply getting me back into writing #no better motivation than seokjin's glorious cock

[quinnluvsbangtan]

MASTERLIST~

I ONLY WRITE FEM!READER

I will not write anything i am uncomfortable with, if i dont do your request please dont ask why

smut : 𖤐

fluff : ☽

angst : ᜊ

KNJ:

coming soon...

KSJ:

coming soon...

MYG:

coming soon...

JHS:

coming soon...

PJM:

coming soon...

KTH:

coming soon...

JJK:

coming soon...

#bts fanfic #knj smut #ksj smut #myg smut #jhs smut #pjm smut #kth smut #jjk smut #knj fluff #ksj fluff #myg fluff #jhs fluff #pjm fluff #kth fluff #jjk fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader

[dollfaceksj]

met him last night | ksj (m) pt. 2

➥ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: You’ve worked in the office with Kim Seokjin for quite some time but you never really pay attention to him. He’s basically your stereotypical introverted nerd with complimentary glasses decorating his eyes and sweater vests clinging to his torso. Coincidentally, you bump into him outside of work. You’re in for the shock of your life when you find some stuff out about him.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ plot twist ⋆ porn with plot

➥ CATEGORY: two-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, bigdick!seokjin is real, protected sex, couch sex, praise kink, oral sex (rec m & f), face fucking, fingerfucking, cumshot on tits, cumshot on ass, little plottwist, doggy style, pinning arms back, cocky!seokjin, denied orgasm, missionary, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 6.5k

a/n: ughhh i can’t believe its finally done! part 2 (and final part) to mhln !!! not betaread or anything so ignore any mistakes plsss hope u like it <3333 tell me ur thoughts <3

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

You quickly straighten your back up, trying to hide your nerves with your eyes still glued to him, intently watching as he makes his way over to you. You lean back into your sofa, glancing up at him as he places his knee next to your thigh and his hand next to your head against the backrest of your sofa.

His other hand moves forward to tilt your chin up, his thumb gently caressing your jaw. “It’s a shame, truly,” he mumbles as he uses his thumb to start wiping off whatever is left of your lipgloss, bringing his gloss-covered thumb to his lips to lick it clean.

Your brows pinch together at his words. You swallow, an attempt at drowning out your nerves before asking, “What is?”

Silence settles around you for a few seconds before he decides to speak again.

“That I’ll ruin your pretty makeup.”

Those are the last words that leave his mouth before he hunches over you and presses his plump lips to yours. The finger that was previously on your chin travels down your jaw to your neck, gently wrapping his hand around your throat to pull your face closer to his.

You’re just about to return the kiss when he abruptly pulls back, face still a centimeter away from yours as he glances down at your lips. “You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles before plopping down on the couch next to you and tugs you to him by your waist, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you hike your skirt up to lunge at him, throwing your thigh over his and climbing onto his lap. He sinks further into your couch and shifts his gaze up to your face, plump bottom lip trapped between his teeth as his hands tightly grip onto your hips.

He lets your hands roam his chest, letting you feel every dip and muscle as you look down at him through hooded eyelids, hands moving up to cup his face. Your face closes in on his, your lips softly pressing against his pillowy ones in a heated kiss.

His hands tighten their grip on your hips, fingers sinking into the fabric of your skirt which makes you yelp against his mouth. It gives him the chance to lick into your mouth and he does.

He tastes like tomato sauce and basil.

You wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him even closer, your breasts pressed flat into his chest.

His hands slide down the sides of your thighs, giving them a soft squeeze. His tongue dances around yours, head tilting to the side to close whatever distance was still in between you two.

Your hips involuntarily jolt and grind into his groin, a soft moan sliding up the back of your throat at the friction. A low grunt rumbles in his chest, his own hips bucking up into your core, returning the favor.

His erection hardens under your sex and your mouth salivates at the thought of his massive dick, you want to taste him. You want to taste him real bad.

You pull away from his lips with a deep inhale and say, “Fuck, I want to suck you off.”

His eyes shift up to stare into yours, an unreadable expression on his features. You can’t help but glance down at his swollen lips as you await his response, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of your panties sticking to your sex.

“Not beating around the bush anymore, hm?” A cocky grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he sinks even further into your couch, adjusting his hips in his seat to help you slide off his lap.

You get onto your knees in front of him, the cold tiles sending a shiver up your spine. You slowly travel your hands up his leg, softly squeezing his soft skin when your hands arrive at his thighs.

“Pull me out.”

The words leave his mouth filled with so much arrogance that you can’t help but reach for his belt straight away, unbuckling it with a quickness. Your eyes travel up his figure, glancing up at him through your pretty lashes but he’s already staring back at you, hand reaching up and resting on top of your head.

He lifts his hips off the couch to help you slide his pants down and he instantly palms himself through his boxers, his other hand moving down your face to tilt your chin up. “You’re so pretty.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip at his compliment, creating a tightness in your stomach and a squeeze in your core, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing.

You tuck your fingers under the hem of his boxers and slowly tug them down, watching in anticipation as his dick springs free from under the hem.

What the fuck?

Your eyes widen as you stare at his erection, it’s still hardening and it’s already bigger than any dick you’ve ever seen before. Big veins trail down his dark shaft, the head of his dick begging for attention.

A chuckle makes his chest rumble when he sees your reaction. His hand wraps around the base of his shaft, causing him to hiss at the touch, a soft grunt pushing past his lips. Your eyes shift to the precum leaking from his tip and you almost drool all over his slacks.

“How the fuck is that supposed to fit literally anywhere?” you grumble, eyes glancing up at him for the first time since seeing his dick and he’s just got a smug smirk sitting on his gorgeous lips.

“You can take it,” he quips, “can’t you?”

Oh.

Well, now you want to do just that.

He places his other hand on your cranium as he moves the tip of his dick across your lips, smearing them full of his precum. You continue to stare at him, never once breaking eye contact, giving him the best doe-eyes you can muster.

“Just tap me twice if it becomes too much,” he adds, a sincere look in his eyes. You nod to his words, placing your hands on his thighs as you mentally prepare yourself to have destroyed vocal cords tomorrow morning.

“Now, stop looking at me with those innocent eyes and open up that pretty mouth like a good girl.”

You don’t hesitate for a second after hearing his words, parting your lips to take him into your mouth almost immediately after. You lower your head, wrapping your lips around the head and you gently start sucking on it. The hiss leaving his mouth tells you that he enjoys that, making you push your tongue flat against his slit and swirl it around to collect his salty precum on your tastebuds.

His hand tenses on top of your head and his hips unexpectedly buck up, making you gag. You keep his dick in your mouth but glare up at him, just in time to see him give you a sheepish, apologetic smile. You grunt as you lower your head again, your saliva rolling down his shaft as you try to take as much as you can of him into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” whispers Seokjin, hand delicately stroking your hair.

You grab onto the base of his dick with both hands and let your saliva roll down your fingers to lube them up enough to pump the part you can’t reach. You begin to take more of him into your mouth but you haven’t even made it halfway down before the head of his dick hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” he moans, his head rolling back onto the backrest of your coach, his chest dramatically rising and falling as he chases his breath.

You hum in response, watching how his hips are tensing and twitching, trying not to thrust up into your mouth. You slowly pull him out, a string of your saliva still connecting to his dick as you continue to jack him off. “I’ll let you fuck my mouth but if I tap twice, you have to stop, okay?”

His eyes shoot open at the offer and he whispers a low swear word before he nods and gets up onto his feet. He slings his suit jacket off, throwing it somewhere on your couch as you get onto your feet, hiking your skirt up so you can bend at the knees and squat in front of him since your knees were already starting to hurt.

He moves to stand in between your spread thighs, hands making their way back to your head as he slowly guides his dick back into your mouth. You move your hands up his bare legs, digging your nails into his warm skin as he starts thrusting into your warm, wet mouth.

You try to blink back your tears but it doesn’t help, every small thrust hits the back of your throat and you’re seconds away from suffocating. The tears start spilling out of your eyes but you refuse to stop him, the way he’s thrusting into your mouth with his head thrown back and soft moans leaving his lips is making you want to keep going, be the reason for his pleasure.

“Fuck, can I cum on your tits?” he asks in between moans, his thrusts getting even rougher. You finally tap his thigh twice and he immediately slides out of your mouth, reaching for your chin to make you tilt your head up at him. He scans your face with a concern frown but you simply slap his hand away.

Your hand reaches up as you start unbuttoning your silk shirt, successfully taking it off, tossing it aside and unclasping your bra all in a few seconds.

He doesn’t have to fucking ask twice.

He grunts, fingers coming back to hold your chin in place to look at him. Your makeup has undoubtedly smudged all over your face but you don’t care, not when Seokjin is looking at you as if you’re the most beautiful being he has ever laid his eyes upon.

He continues to pump himself with his other habd, chasing his own release. You slowly move back toward the couch, sprawling yourself out on the edge of the couch’s cushions and pulling Seokjin forwards to stand in between your spread thighs. You lean your upper back against the couch, allowing gravity to work for you as you reach up to his dick and take it from him, aiming the tip at your chest.

Your eyes travel up to meet his gaze as you start pumping him, watching as he stares you down with such overwhelming lust that it’s got your useless panties no longer acting as a barrier because you’re pretty sure you’ve started leaking through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he pauses after a deep inhale, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

An involuntary moan escapes your lips at the praise but your hands keep going, wanting nothing more than for him to cum all over your breasts.

“You’re pretty too,” you say with a sheepish smile, still looking up at him with your pretty eyes.

“I know,” he moans and the sight makes you giggle. At least he’s funny.

His dick twitches in your hand and before you know it, white ropes of his warm cum start coating your chest and nipples. He moans several swear words as he cums all over your breasts, his eyes taking in the sight and committing it to memory.

You’re upper body is sprawled on the couch cushions, tits covered in saliva and cum, makeup running down your face, hair fucked up.

You blink up at him with hooded eyes as your hands finally come to a stop, still gripping the base of his shaft.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he grunts, still chasing his breath as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

The Devil starts tugging on the corner of your lips, making you smirk. “Like what?”

“Like you want me to destroy you.”

You’re once again slapped in the face by his blunt words but you can’t help but want him to go through with that statement.

“But I do,” you reply, bringing up the back of your hand to wipe your chin clean of the saliva, or at least some of it.

“Yeah, I bet,” he mumbles as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and runs his hand through his hair, messing it up in the process.

He hunches over and pulls you up onto your feet, tugging your skirt down your hips without any obstacles and tossing it aside aggressively. He takes a seat on the couch and spreads his legs wide apart before tugging you toward him to sit in between his legs.

You move to tug off your panties but he stops you, just patting the spot in between his thighs, motioning for you to turn around. You blink at him for a moment before you place your ass right in between his thighs and lean your back into his chest like he wants you to.

His hand trails down your waist to your thigh, awakening the thousands of goosebumps underneath the upperlayer of your skin. He taps your skin gently, mumbling something about spreading for him and you comply.

He uses his other hand to hold your leg apart from the other by placing his hand under the back of your knee and pulling it up while his other hand slowly starts rubbing circles onto your clothed pussy.

You sigh at the friction, finally getting some attention and a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Fuck, you got that wet from sucking me off?” His voice rings in your ear and his proximity almost makes you dizzy, it’s the only explanation for the room that seems to be spinning around you. His words too, because they’re true. The kissing turned you on but letting him use your mouth left you dripping with arousal.

You hum in response as your hips start to roll into his hand, your eyes trailing down to your chest that’s still covered in his cum.

“Leave it like that, you look so pretty.” He must’ve noticed the way you were eyeing his load on your chest but you quickly nod, assuring him you were in no hurry to get rid of it.

He slowly peels your panties off your pussy, noticing the way they stick to your folds. He hums in delight as he pushes your underwear to the side. Your gaze shifts downwards and you intently watch as he effortlessly slides his fingers in between your folds, his fingers already soaked with your slick.

He pulls his fingers back, wanting a glimpse of his fingers covered in your slick. “Fuck,” whispers Seokjin.

You lean your head back into the crook of his neck as you moan softly, chest rising and falling dramatically. His lips leave soft kisses on the side of your neck as his fingers rub your clit, down to your slit, down to your hole to gently tease it.

You’re going to need all the preparation you can get because his dick will undoubtedly make you feel like you’re having sex for the first time all over again.

You impatiently rut your hips into his fingers but he just chuckles, gathering your slick onto his fingers and smearing it all over your sex.

“You’re so impatient, pretty.” His beautiful voice feels like it’s being ladled into your ear by a cloud yet his tone is coated in mockery.

You merely grunt in response before actually using your words. You grumble, “Put them in.”

A hoarse laugh pushes past his lips before he slides his middle and ring finger into your pussy, curling them right away. He watches you with a twisted smirk on his lips as you start writhing on him, bucking your hips the moment his fingertips graze your g-spot.

He shushes you quietly as he begins to fuck his fingers into you, slamming his palm against your clit and doing so at an angle that causes the disgusting gushing sound of your wet pussy to ring in your ears.

You shake your head, you plead, you cry, you do anything to let him know you want to cum, right now, right here on his fingers.

“Listen to that,” he mumbles, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he continues to curl his fingers every now and then. He watches you from the corner of his eyes, thoroughly enjoying how he’s got you writhing for him. “I need a taste.”

That’s all he says before hoisting you off of him and tossing you beside him, onto your couch. A gasp leaves your throat at the sudden strength he uses to do that and the way he drags you to the edge of the cushions, legs spread for him.

He settles on his knees in between your thighs, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening pussy in front of him. “Would you look at that?” he whispers, using his fingers to spread your folds for him.

Fortunately, he wastes no time and lowers his mouth onto your sex, tongue pressed flat against it as he licks up all of your arousal – that he’s the sole cause of.

A pathetic whimper slides up the back of your throat, legs jerking and body squirming under him but he simply chuckles. “I haven’t even done anything, look at you squirming.”

But then, his smile is nowhere to be seen and he’s got a black expression on his beautiful face. “Stay still,” he demands, his voice low and his eyes fixed on your pussy.

Your hips are restrained by his hands, holding you down against the couch as his tongue goes on a rampage against your poor clit. You cry and mewl under him, thighs shaking and fingers gripping at the pillows decorating your couch.

“Fuck,” you moan once he shoves his tongue into you, nose bumping against your clit and teasing you further while he fucks his wet muscle into you.

All you can do is moan and cry his name, fingers tugging at his perfectly styled hair but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“This pussy,” he mumbles as he shakes his head. “Might never get enough of it.” He dives right back in, mouth completely and aggressively devouring you as if he didn’t just have a meal.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you sniff, hips jerking and thighs clenching but he continues to hold you down, not allowing you to escape his grasp. Your warning words only seem to encourage him as he completely sucks you for what you’re worth.

His precision and movements never falter, continuously stimulating your clit. “You’re already making me hard again,” he says matter-of-factly once he pulls back from your pussy. You think he’s edging you but that thought gets thrown out the window when he suddenly hooks his hands around the back of your thighs and shoves your legs toward you, pressed against your torso to spread you out even more for him.

If this pose isn’t embarrassing enough, him staring down at your pussy like this would certainly be enough to make you anxious.

“What?” you ask quietly as you glance down at him, your chest still in- and deflating from all that pleasure you received just now.

He glances up into your eyes for a few seconds with an unreadable look in his eyes before shifting his eyes back down to your sex, so spread and so exposed for him. “Just admiring your pussy. Can’t I?”

Your teeth roughly bite down on your bottom lip, eyes still watching his every move in anticipation.

But then he simply chuckles to himself before closing in on your pussy again and licking, sucking, making out with your nether regions as if he hasn’t eaten in days. Holy shit, he’s fucking good.

Ugh, why would anyone want to ditch him?

You almost flinch when he exhales slightly, something you’d describe as a quick chuckle. His breath drapes all over your pussy, making you glance down at him but he’s already staring at you.

“Why, thank you.” He rises to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and ditches the rest of his clothes. “But I was never stood up.”

Your brows pinch together. What is he talking about?

Hold on.

Did you actually say that outloud? Fuck. You goofy bitch!

“What do you mean, you were never stood up?” you mumble as you watch him rip a condom package with his teeth and slowly roll the condom onto his massive dick, giving it a few test tugs.

“Yeah, I lied,” he says nonchalantly as he pulls your leg up and slings it over his shoulder, pulling you to the edge of the couch whilst he stays kneeling on the floor in front of you.

“You lied? How did you lie? I saw you there, sitting by yourself…”

“Yeah, about that...” He slowly starts to push in, making sure to watch your face for any sign of regret or un-readiness.

But you simply squeeze your eyes shut at the burn, he’s inhumanely big and you’re already seeing celestial bodies on the back of your eyelids from how tightly you’re squeezing your eyes shut but he’s being very careful, clearly experienced in this regard.

Did he decide to spring that bullshit on you whilst pushing into you so you’d forget about it?

Well, it’s working. What the fuck?

You can’t help it, your teeth are digging into your bottom lip and your eyes are finally open once he bottoms out. Your walls are burning from the stretch, clearly not very welcoming in these few moments. A few of his hair strands are sticking to his forehead from the sweat but he never loses concentration of going slow and steady.

“You okay?” he whispers, gently rubbing your clit in hopes of helping you relax.

“Ye… Yeah, I think,” you whisper in response, mind clouded. You can’t think about anything else right now.

He slowly nods his head. “You’re going to squeeze my fucking dick off, doll. Relax for me,” he whispers as he reaches over to smooth out the scrunch in your brows with his thumb.

Damn, he’s so damn sexy. You really don’t know him at all.

“Well, clearly I’ve never had something that big shoved in there,” you snark, struggling a little as you do your best to just relax but of course, it’s easier said than done.

“I’ve never fucked anything this tight either,” he chuckles as he leans a bit closer into you, still fully shoved into you, yet not moving. “Let me kiss you.”

You stare into his big brown eyes, your own eyes dropping down to his lips before trailing back up to his eyes.

“Just breathe. You can take it, princess. Look at you, you look so pretty under me.” He leans further down until he’s pressed his lips against yours and if this is him trying to get your mind off of getting split in half by his dick, it’s working.

Because kissing Seokjin is otherworldly. His lips are so plump and pillowy, you could kiss him for fucking hours. You wonder what his lips would look like after making out for hours, swollen and red. Fuck.

He kisses you gently, one thumb still rubbing your clit and you’re trying so hard not to clench around his dick because you’re scared you might actually squeeze his dick off.

“Move,” you demand after a few moments of kissing, wrapping your legs around his waist and caging him in by locking your feet with each other behind his back.

He slowly, very slowly, starts to pull out of you, leaving the head of his dick inside before pushing back into you.

You mewl at the intrusion, throat dry with the sounds you’ve been letting out.

“Shhh, you’re doing so well. Taking it like a champ,” he whispers against your lips, steadily thrusting into you.

Ugh, what happened in your life for the nerdy intern to be talking you through sex right now?

“Faster,” you mumble once he pulls away from your lips, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I hear you,” he chuckles as he picks up the pace of his thrusting, hips rolling into yours at a delicious pace.

“Fuck,” you moan, actually enjoying the burning fullness he gives you. “Fuck, you– you said something about… about lying to me?”

He glances into your eyes, a pinch in his brows as he tries to keep himself from just moaning in response. “Yeah, I lied to you, princess. Sorry about that.”

A cry rips through your poor throat when he suddenly starts snapping his hips into yours, pounding you at a pace and with a type of strength that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Is he doing that to stop you from interrogating him?

“Shit, you’re making a mess on your floor, beautiful.” He says it with such cockiness in his tone that it makes you want to smack him right across the face but he’s just so fucking fine that you have no choice but to let it slide.

You watch as he reaches over to grab some of the paper towels that you placed on the coffee table earlier and uses them to wipe down his cum from your chest to avoid making a mess on your couch.

At least he’s considerate, you suppose.

You drop your head further back against the cushions, moans continuously spilling from your lips as his hips pound into yours, his dick rubbing every single millimeter of your slick walls.

Tears spill out of your eyes from all the sensations ripping through your body, your own hand coming up to shield the outside world from your loudness but Seokjin is quicker, slapping your hand away from your mouth.

“Let me hear how pretty I make you sound.” He simply continues to fuck into you, making sure your leg stays secured against his torso and over his shoulder.

He deliberately fucks you at an angle that makes the squelching of your pussy that much louder and embarrassing. “Listen to that,” he whispers, mockery on his face and a curl at the corners of his lips.

“Shut up,” you whimper, cheeks heated in embarrassment. “Don’t think I–” you yelp, “I forgot about you telling me you lied to me.”

He merely hums in response and leans back a bit, grabbing both your legs by the back of your knees and pushing them toward your chest while he continues to snap his hips into yours, stretching you out so harsh yet so fucking good.

“If you ask the right questions, I promise I’ll answer honestly.” His ragged breathing betrays his act of nonchalance but you’re too fucked out to point it out.

Ugh. Is this a game to him?

You inhale a shaky breath. “Did you get stood up or not?” you ask, hoping he’ll give you the clarification you’re looking for despite already having told you that he lied to you about it.

“No,” he replies, teeth digging into his plump bottom lip as you clench and squeeze around him.

You manage to ask through moans, “So, she did show up?”

He shakes his head, eyes glued to the way his dick slides in and out of you. He abruptly pulls out and turns you over by your waist, pressing your face, stomach and chest deeply into the cushions of your couch and wastes no time slamming back into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out with your knees now on the floor, mouth practically drooling all over your couch as he tugs your arms towards him and bends them at the elbows to pin them into your lower back, keeping you caged and with no other option than to take it.

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“No,” he grunts in reply, hips continuously snapping into your ass and his eyes glued to your bum recoiling against his body.

What the hell? He’s not making any sense.

If she didn’t show up, that means he got stood up, doesn’t it?

Wait.

The realization sets.

“Did–” you pause, trying to catch your breath. “Did you have a date at all?”

He hums in response as he fucks you, one hand keeping your arms pinned and one hand coming down to squeeze the soft skin of your ass.

“I didn’t.”

Huh?

An involuntary sob escapes you, earning a cocky chuckle from him. Bastard. “So,” you start, “what were you doing there?”

He was just sitting there. He hadn’t even ordered yet. Why the hell was he there?

He kisses his teeth with a loud smack as he stays quiet for a few moments after your question. “I own the restaurant.”

Record scratch.

What?

You echo, “You own the restaurant?”

That restaurant is very fancy and pricey, why was he working in a company like yours if he owned a restaurant like that?

“Well, my dad does.” He lets go of your arms to grip both your hips, rocking you back onto his sex instead of fucking you. “I’ll be inheriting it soon.”

Fucking hell.

That explains the expensive car.

The next few moments are just filled with moans, heavy breathing and skin slapping. His fingers dig into your skin, gripping you tightly as if you’d slip through of his fingers.

Your own hand reaches down and starts rubbing at your clit, teeth abusing your bottom lip as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Fuck,” you whimper as your orgasm starts approaching.

“You gonna cum?” he whispers, slightly picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You quickly nod your head, face still buried in your coach and it’s going to be very fun to clean that makeup off your couch.

“Go on, then,” he encourages, his hand coming down to your ass in a rough slap, making you jolt forwards from the impact.

Swear words continue to fall from his lips and you struggle to even form a coherent sentence.

But then, the world stops spinning and the room starts to.

Your phone is ringing. Fuck!

You slowly reach over and turn your screen to face you, curses falling from your lips.

Seokjin asks, “Who is that?”

Fuck. “It’s Taehyung. He probably wants to know if I got home okay. I’ll just text him la–”

“Pick up,” he says, thrusts never halting. Actually, his hips pound into yours even harsher. Bastard.

You squeal, “I’m not going to pick up while I’m–”

He cuts you off. “While you’re getting fucked by me?”

“It has nothing to do with you. Just… you know. Me getting fucked.”

A sultry chuckle leaves his mouth and he gradually slows down in pace, sensually rolling his hips into yours. “Go on, pick up.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your mouth quietly as you accept the call and put the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Yo, where are you?”

“I’m uh,” you mumble as you shake your head, trying so hard to not focus on the way the tip of Seokjin’s dick softly kisses your cervix with each thrust. “I’m home.”

“Alright. Cool if I come over?”

Your eyes almost pop out of your eye sockets. “What? No. You can’t come over.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because,” you pause as you glance over your shoulder into Seokjin’s eyes with an expression on your face that only feeds his damn ego. “Just because, okay?”

“But you– oh.” Taehyung goes quiet. “Oh. I see how it is,” he says and you can practically hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

“Bye, Taehyung.”

“I bet you’re getting dicked down by big dick Seokj–”

Your thumb quickly slams down on the red hang up button before you toss your phone aside, ready to hear Seokjin’s comments and questions about the phone call but he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he picks up the pace again, fucking you just the way he seems to like it.

He places his hands on your shoulders and continues to fuck the absolute shit out of you, making you arch your back and ruin your throat with the way he’s pounding your poor pussy.

The consistent thrusts and his silent whispers of praise are what ultimately send you over the edge, your entire body shuddering and falling limp against the couch as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. You pathetically cry out under him, clenching around him, the entire room spinning as his big dick slides in and out of you.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he mumbles as he spreads your asscheeks apart, eyes glued to how he slides in and out of you and the way your tight pussy grips onto him. “Can I cum on you again?”

Fuck. He can cum wherever the fuck he wants.

“Yeah,” you whimper in overstimulation, not having enough energy or sass to roll your eyes at his cocky chuckle. Bastard.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers, hips snapping into your ass as he chases his own high. It doesn’t take long until he completely pulls out of you and yanks the condom off, aiming his dick at your ass and unloading all over your bum, coating your skin in his cum.

“Fuck,” he groans, watching as you reach for your ass and spread your cheeks for him, looking over your shoulder at him.

He mumbles, “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You merely hum in response, still in the clouds from that orgasm as he milks himself of every drop on your soft skin.

After he comes down from his high, he focuses on catching his breath but doesn’t wait for much longer until he reaches for the roll of paper towels again. He quietly cleans you up, slow and steady, making sure not to spill before he moves onto the mess you made on the floor.

He gently tugs your panties back up your legs and by the time he’s helped you sit back onto the couch, he’s already fully dressed.

He looks down at you, wiping some of your makeup with the paper towels but it’s not doing much. “I like how fucked your face is,” he comments, rubbing your chin with his thumb as he stands before you.

A scowl forms on your face but it just elicits a chuckle from him before he leans down and softly pecks your lips.

He reaches for your elbows and helps you rise to your feet, asking for directions to your room.

Once he’s helped you out of your clothes and thoroughly cleaned you up, he helps you into bed.

When the click of the door handle being turned reaches your ears, you stop him by calling out his name and it makes him glance at you over his. shoulder. “You can just stay. It’s really late.”

He stares at you for a moment before chuckling and adding a shake to his head for good measure. “One conversation and I’m spending the night? I wonder how long it’ll take for you to fall for me.”

You roll your eyes exaggeratedly and pettily turn onto your side, giving him your cold back. “Then don’t stay, I was just trying to be polite.”

His obnoxious laugh rips through your eardrums and it’s like he’s the only person on Earth with you now.

It isn’t long before you hear the ruffling of his clothes and the mattress behind you dipping under his weight.

You try to go to sleep with his soft breath grazing your neck but unfortunately, you can’t ignore it and it takes you a whole lot of time to actually doze off.

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The soft clinking of metal wakes you out of your slumber. You slowly awaken, your eyes meeting his figure in the corner of your room as he buckles his belt in front of the mirror.

You slowly sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. “Why did you lie to me?” you hoarsely ask him, this time not beating around the bush.

He glances at you through the mirror for a second, probably surprised that you’ve woken up. He then fully returns his attention to himself and shrugs his shoulders with a hint of nonchalance. “Why were you nice to me when no one else was?”

At this, you can’t help but frown. What kind of a question is that? “Because I’m a decent human being?”

He tilts his head to the side at your answer, eyes staring at you through the mirror in silence for several seconds.

“And I’m not.” He turns around to face you. “Does that answer your question, lovely?” he says it with so much nonchalance and arrogance, like he genuinely doesn’t care at all.

You idly blink at him through the mirror from where you’re seated, mind booming with all the images of nerdy Seokjin and it’s like you’re staring at a completely different person. Are you sure he doesn’t have an evil twin or something like that?

He slowly walks up to you and it makes you sit up even straighter and for some reason his proximity still makes you nervous. Your eyes slowly travel up his body, finally glancing at him through your pretty lashes.

“I put my number on that note over there. Call me whenever you need me.” He nods towards your nightstand and you follow his line of direction, noticing a pink post-it with his number, name and a winking smiley scribbled on it.

When you turn your head back to look at him, he raises his hand and strokes your head before leaning down to press a gentle peck to your pouty lips. “Or whenever you want me, I don’t judge.” He winks at you, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb before straightening his back and gathering his wallet and keys.

Is this really how it’s going to go?

“Wait,” you call out. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he absentmindedly slides his wallet and keys into the pockets of his slacks.

You say, “Am I supposed to just… act like nothing happened?” With a slight shake to your head, you continue, “Tomorrow at work? Like you haven’t shown me your true colors?”

Is he going to act like nothing happened? Is he going to be the same Seokjin you’ve always known? Will he have a distinct look in your eye every time he looks at you? Couldn’t you just out him to the others? Why was he comfortable showing you such private matters about himself?

His dark eyes stare into yours for a moment longer and it almost stings, it stings the way he stares you down. The faintest smirk creeps onto his lips and you can swear you just met the Devil, standing face to face with evil reincarnated.

Then, he simply shrugs his shoulders and drops them again as he heads out the door, not even looking back at you.

“It’s not like anyone would believe you anyways.”

And with that, he exits your apartment, leaving you to process what happened in the past 12 hours on your own.

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[aseaofyoongi]

caught in waves | ksj

kim seokjin x reader (f)

genre: chef & bmx ksj | strangers to lovers | fluff | smut

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: after graduating culinary school you are fired from your very first job as a sous chef — so you move to a small town for the summer only to meet the very cute nephew of the restaurant and airbnb owner.

warnings: not another smut au; strangers to lovers; thoughts of self doubt; brief mention of death beginning with the line “sleeping forever would mean.” to the end of that paragraph; parental death (jin’s unnamed mother); foul language; public sex (twice - cause wtf is a bed); clitorial stimulation; vaginal fingering; tongue fucking; six nine (m./f. receiving); face riding; penetrative sex; unprotected sex, wrap it up my brothas and sistas; creampie; riding (cowgirl); brief orgasm denial if you squint; did not proof read so sorry for any errors now; that was a mouth full but i think thats it lol

word count: 13.1 thousand words

posted: june 25, 2023 at 9am

notable songs: tangerine - anthony watts and anthony russo | otro atardecer - bad bunny | summer love - crush | seaside - seb 🎧

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The bus was nearly empty. 

Just you and two strangers with two remaining stops on the lined route. From your place at the back of the vehicle life seemed to have stopped and you were sort of trapped in the legato vibrato of the RnB beats playing in your ears. But you were here alone with rows of vacant seats ahead of you — while your eyes aimed at the everlasting fields of green pasture filled with an abundance of trees. The vermilion leaves swayed to the rhythm of the wind as the cool draft swept by gently. 

And while you sat inside the muggy bus you couldn’t help but feel like those leaves who have lost their way from home. The ones who we ripped away from their branches and were on an aimless journey only to end up on the ground. All but forgotten and only to be stepped on and torn to shred in the process. 

That was you. In a stump, torn and forgotten. 

You didn’t always hold that ideal synonymous with your name but the sparse roots in the. . circumstances of life were less than perfect and while you tried to drive down the highway of your early twenties on a steady road there were just numerous obstacles hurdled in your path. Some of which affected your life greatly and derailed you from what you believed to be intended and bestowed upon you. 

Back then, you were twenty-one just fresh off culinary school with zealous ambitions and a hunger for success that gnawed at you eagerly. You had a drive ignited in you like an overbearing fire incapable of being put out. Today, that fire lacked its fuel and there were just clouds of smoke left behind while the ashes of the once burning wood were scattered around. 

Everything in your life has gone to shit. 

In just the matter of months everything has gone to absolute shit. 

You couldn’t hear much, so you weren’t alerted to the mechanical voice triggered by the yellow pull cord. You weren’t quite sure if it was due to the music blanketing your hearing or if your sense had gone completely haywire but you couldn’t hear it. Not at all. Your eyes however could see the rectangular screen displaying the ‘stop now’ bold red letters at the front of the bus and as soon as the doors opened. The doors of the bus door opened and closed and quickly the two other passengers on the bus hopped off leaving you entirely alone. This precise moment; these surroundings, took you right back to the big city and its maze-like roads. It sent you right back to the exact time when you felt like this, entirely desolate and empty in all the worst ways possible. 

You hated it. It was suffocating and you could feel the way your airways began to constrict. You didn’t like that feeling — being alone. Yet, it always crept up on you like a lingering shadow. 

It was always fucking there. 

It wasn’t always that way. Before your sporadic travels to the isolated roads adorned by thousands of skyscrapers — back at home things were different: you had a loving family, and you were wrapped up in the warm embrace of your parents and siblings. A hug so tight sometimes you could still feel their phantom body heat warming up your skin. Their touch was your medicine and with their clutch you were cradled right into a cure for wellness. 

While you craved the warm nature of their love. You couldn’t head back home. Not after descending so harshly from the disappointment of your crushed dreams. You had pierced through earth’s stratosphere and crashed your metaphorical ship right in the middle of nowhere. 

You were astray. Off-course. Adrift. 

You couldn’t head back home. 

It’s only been six months since you left home. 

Just half a year. And everything went to shit. 

Though you knew your parents weren’t usually the type to be painted with looks of disappointment — you knew that right below disappointment sat a worse expression, one you weren’t quite ready to experience just yet: commiseration. The awful and dreadful imbue of pity. 

Their youngest had failed. Miserably. You could already see their torn expressions dashed in the horrid tones of black and white, maybe even a bit of gray. It was bad enough in the flashes of your imagination. 

God, no. You couldn’t head back home. 

Instead you ran as far away from home as you could and headed towards a small town. It was nearly invisible on the map unless under the stern squinting of the eye. But you figured a scenic change would likely bring forth a change of spirits. Perhaps, being enveloped in the vibration of the soft melody coming from the crashing of the oceans waves and the aroma of the tide in this new town could become your new remedy for the soul. 

As you neared the houses toned with aquamarine, salmon pink, and citrus yellow wood sidings the bus began braking softly nearing its final stop. 

“This is the end of the road young lady,” the bus driver announced as you peeled your headphones off, placing them around your neck. 

“Yes. Sorry,” you quickly stood up, clinging your backpack onto your back and hurdling the duffel bag over your right shoulder causing one of the straps to snap. Great. You sighed, “thank you so much.” 

“No need to apologize,” he waved off as soon as you stepped off onto the asphalt, “enjoy your stay.” 

Using the navigation on your phone turned out to be much more complicated than you’d originally thought it would be. There were countless seafood shops and though the repetition of the color on the houses was initially very appealing to the eyes you quickly realized how much harder it made it to differentiate and determine your precise location. 

Okay, currently, you stopped in front of the ice cream shop. To the right there was the souvenir store, the convenience store and the flower shop, along with dozens of other stores scattered all around — all of them sat parallel  to the boardwalk right near the beach shore right across the street. 

Kim’s Aboard. You hummed looking down at the opened up map. The blue dot was highlighted. . Still. So you were at your destination according to this, except, you were not. This was way harder than navigating your way through the big city for the first time all of those months prior. Who would’ve thought small towns would be the cherry right on top of your greatest failures. Just what you needed. What the fuck. 

Sitting on the curb you felt defeated. Feeling as if life had taken control of your life while  you were the punching bag just waiting for another jab. 

“Fuck this,” you shrugged off the duffel bag, sinking your head into your lap, “fuck life. Fuck it all.” 

Minutes passed on but you remained. There. On that lonely sidewalk. Not empty but again lonely. Fuck, you didn’t care okay? You were well past the point of feeling fazed, moving through life but not living, finally succumbing to the presumed complications of your days — officially, having given up mentally and physically through and through. 

You simply did not care. Nope. 

You didn’t. . 

Then, you felt a single droplet land on your skin. From overhead the sky was being consumed by the gloomy darkness, and soon enough you knew the clouds would begin their torrential weeping. Very soon. 

Okay. Maybe you did care after all. 

“I get it,” you hissed up at the heavens, “I am damned. Doomed. Cursed. I get it.”

You probably looked mad. Well, more on the edge of insane. Whatever, it was. It likely did not look good at all. 

“Uh,” he approached you in paced steps but the squeaking of his black finishing boots gave him away. Initially, your eyes were averted to the leaden clouds, but quickly, your eyes met him as he kneeled right beside you. The simplicity of his appearance (composed of dark denim washed overalls and absolutely nothing under — but the radiance of his honeyed complexion) drew you nearer to him. “Are you doing okay, miss?” 

His voice was sweeter than the composition of ballads and while the crashing of the ocean waves against the shore constituted its very own euphonious sonnet, in the shortness of six words listening to him was already so much better — so pleasing. 

“I-uh,” surely you remember how to talk. . Right? “I was just looking for the apartment I’ll be staying at for the next few days but I’m a bit lost.” 

“Here,” he sat beside you and his shoulder brushed yours continuously. It was distracting. Very distracting, “The trick is the town is circular shaped. Sort of like a big round about. There’s one road throughout and if you follow it through, you’ll see everything you need to see.” 

You hummed, signaling you understood his breakdown in small towns for dummies, “So, are all of the stores on this main road?” 

“Most,” he said, adjusting his blue cap now having it face backwards. His toned bicep flexed slightly when he reached up, “but there are some down the road. What store are you trying to find?” 

When you turned towards him you swore there was a glimmer of light shining down on him like a spotlight — except, that was impossible. The day was now gloomy robbing the sun of its usual glimmer. But, you weren’t crazy. You’re living it, clearly experiencing the way his radiant glow nearly blinds you. 

You were clearly gawking at him. Too immersed in the perfection outlined in his features. The richness of his dark chocolate eyes seemed as sweet as a candy bar, his full lips and the apples of his cheeks carried the same elements of the carmine mimicking the vibrancy of roses. 

You cleared your throat forcing yourself to finally rip your stare away from him, “Kim’s Abroad,” you began, “seafood store and restaurant combo but also Airbnb adjacent.” 

He chuckled, again a sound so light and airy it traveled in your inner ear like the whistles of a peaceful tune, “Kim, huh?” 

You opened the Airbnb app, moving the phone over for him to get a better look, “Yeah, Kim is what it says,” you confirmed, 

“Yeah, it does,” he looked at your phone screen, “but you’re in the wrong place.” 

“I’m in the wrong town?” 

His lips were still sculpted into a smile. Was your demise an amusement to him? You were almost offended but dimples were just so mesmerizing as they impaled his bread cheeks and you found some ease in them. Momentarily. But the man sitting beside didn’t go back on his word and suddenly there was no denying the rising panic bubbling deep in your stomach. There was no question that your luck has always been absolute shit but you never imagined it could extend this far. It never occurred to you that something like this could happen. 

You laughed and you weren’t sure if you actually found the situation amusing or if it was only a coping mechanism. Who knows perhaps you misheard what he said — Yeah, you probably. . Definitely, did, “please tell me you’re fucking with me. .” 

“Yeah, I’m fucking with you,” he smirked. The curves of his stretched lips now synonymous with the equivalent of a warm embrace yet the playfulness of a jest, “I’m Seokjin. Kim Seokjin. Kim’s Abroad is my uncle’s shop.” 

“Oh,” you finally exhaled, releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding in the first place, “you got me good.” 

“Did I scare you?” He stood from the sidewalk and dusted off the bits of sand and gravel from his bottom. 

“Did you scare me?” you huffed, “you damn near killed me.” 

“Well, technically, you are in the wrong place,” he stretched his hand out for you to grab and you did. 

“Don’t even start,” you scoffed playfully. 

“But—“ he cut in, “you’re just on the wrong part of town. Come on. Before it actually starts raining.” 

“You have a car?” 

He shrugged, “something like that.” 

Seokjin did not have a car. You’d digested the grim realization when you two of you walked to the nearby parking lot and instead of approaching the valet he walked the opposite way in the direction of the bicycle rack. 

The bike chained to the rack was blue. . a sapphire which mimicked the color of the ocean waves. It also looked pretty new and like a very competent mode of transportation as everything in this town seemed just a walk or quick ride away. 

 “Hope you don’t mind but I’m not much of a car person,” he emphasized the word car highlighting the stance of his words. And you couldn’t help but wonder why it was — that he wasn’t much of a car person — but you didn’t ask, shoving the plethora of questions right back down your esophagus determining you didn’t need to know. You didn’t know him. . Besides, he was practically your landlord. 

“Of course,” you smiled, tightening the straps on your bag to get it to sit higher on your back, “should I put this here?” you slid your duffel bag off and pointed at the red wagon attached to the bike. 

“Let me help,” Seokjin was toned and built as fuck. You had not really noticed when he approached you ten minutes prior, but now? Now, he was kneeling right in front of you using a variation of ropes to secure your bag in the wooden attachment. And while you hadn’t meant to stare you couldn’t resist the urge to drink in every detail of his every move. 

It was truly like observing an artwork in some museum. . except you had to keep reminding yourself that he was real — This was real. His muscles flexed whenever he tugged on the rope to verify its tightness and his fingers worked diligently to produce an effective knot. His long long fingers. 

Your mind couldn’t help but wonder which other activities he indulged in containing those slender digits of his. 

No. 

No. 

Focus on yourself; focus on your own journey. You shook your head in an attempt to push those beguiling thoughts aside. 

“Ready?” he asked, straddling the bike and signaling you to hop on the pegs. You simply nodded hoping on, placing your palms on his broad shoulders for support. The contact felt as if his skin had been ignited with tiny strings of fire — kind of like you hovering your palms over a burner on the stove. 

It was distracting; the way the heat particles traveled past the layers of your skin warming you to the touch. 

It was so fucking distracting the way your touch felt at ease against him. 

“This is a very small town but we have a lot to offer,” Seokjin peddled down the street — already sounding mildly out of breath having to carry both your weights. 

Your eyes settled on your surroundings; the road ahead, “I can see that. We have the beach on our left and a cozy vintage town to our right. Believe me, it is all I truly need at this very moment.” 

“What are you trying to escape from reality?” 

“More like—“ as the bike moved deeper into town and against the late afternoon wind you felt a wave of relief in your sweaty scalp and forehead, “I’m trying to get away from it forever.”

He chuckled, “forever’s a long time.” 

“Forever is categorized differently for each person,” you shrugged, “my forever could end tomorrow whereas yours could run its course for an abundance of years.”

“I suppose you’re right. .” he said, “but tomorrow is also forever away.” 

“Tomorrow is forever away.” you repeated. 

Within the cold avenues of the buzzling city tomorrow would be a blink away — sparing all extra hours, minutes and seconds right into oblivion. Tomorrow would arrive in the blink of an eye and twenty four hours would perish right into nothing. However, this town seemed different. An hour here has felt like a wrinkle in time and you were comfortably tucked under that luxury of time. 

Sparing time to stop and take everything in and time to breathe. You were spared all of the time in the world to breathe. Finally. 

Back in the city your life had been sort of a blur. The foundation of your days were composed of half assed obligations. Such as getting up to the boisterous roars of the city (which you hated), getting dressed in clothes you hated all to keep up appearances (which you hated), attending classes in an attempt to perfect your culinary skills (which you hated) and then finally going to work at that fucking restaurant until the late hours of the evening (which you guessed it — you fucking hated). There was nothing to look back on and long for and certainly nothing that you missed as everything you ever dedicated a spec of your time and energy to never truly made you happy. 

There was always a vast hole in your heart. It was huge and it only ever grew in width and no efforts ever minimized its size. The pain was great and all you could ever do was endure. 

The ride so far had been quiet and you found peace in that. It gave you a bit of time to swim in your own thoughts for a bit — something you haven’t done in quite some time. Perhaps, substituting the rustling tracks of the subway and the constant beeping of car horns for the songs of the sea would do you some good. It already kind of was. 

“You doing okay up there?” he asked, continuing to peddle his way down the black paved road. 

“I’m doing okay,” you reassured him. 

“I figured you’d just been taking everything in,” he said, “you’ve been a bit quiet.”  

“Yeah, I’m definitely admiring and loving the scarcity of skyscrapers. I like the build of the ranch-style homes. It gives the curb appeal sort of like a homey feel,” your eyes remain glued to your surroundings. While Seokjin was a sight on his own this town — you were beginning to fall in love with. 

“I agree. It’s the primary reason why I’ve yet to leave,” he parked his bike on the bike rack right in front of the two-story building. The sign read, ‘Kim’s Abroad’ in big red letters engraved in a baby blue outline against the white exterior. “We have arrived.” 

“Seafood restaurant and market,” you mumbled reading the tiny black font displayed right below the vibrant sign. 

“All things seafood restaurant and market,” he repeated, getting a hold of your luggage from his wagon, “we are connoisseurs. Don’t you forget that.” 

You giggled, “Kim Seokjin the seafood connoisseur. Noted.” 

Kim’s Abroad sat on the other side of town. Just a couple of steps away from the blue waves of the ocean crashing against the golden shores. Approximately, a ten minute bike ride away from the main pier. This side of town seemed like a hidden gem, like a slice of privacy for the locals. Though the sidewalks remained occupied with on-goers, it wasn’t as congested or loud as where you began your journey earlier that afternoon. 

Up above the weather seemed to settle down as the nimbostratus clouds were being swept away by lighter; fluffier; whiter clouds highlighting the cerulean hue of the late summer afternoon. The sun also seeped through and already your skin prickled with the rising heat. 

“Let me help with that,” you reached out to grab your backpack. 

“Help?” his eyes wide with shock, “you’re our first guest to offer assistance with their own luggage. I like you.” 

“I’ll wear the stamp of approval proudly.” 

Walking into the restaurant was like entering the multiverse of culinary delicacy. The aroma of the various seafood dishes had your stomach grumbling as hunger began its loud roar. The set-up didn’t allow much space for dining in which explained the small tables and chairs lined up outside. Seokjin walked right up to the counter with a sign right above the register which read, order here. To the right of that there was a display with numerous varieties of fish, shrimp, clams, oysters, lobsters with small chalkboards identifying the prices per pound. 

The interior design of the small shop was fairly simple yet very charming. There were wall decor items hung on the white walls in the shape of different sea creatures and fishing nets drapped from the ceiling. 

Seokjin signaled you over to join him by the register, which you did. 

“Our summer neighbor has finally joined us. She’ll be staying for the summer.” he turned towards you. Quickly, you nodded confirming. 

“Hi, I’m Seokjin’s uncle, Gong. Nice to meet you,” he stretched his hand out over the counter which you quickly shook. Gong wore a tender eye smile and pearly white teeth that glimmered under the sneaky rays of the sun invading the shop. You introduced yourself hoping to reciprocate the same amiability. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you added, “I’m really looking forward to spending the summer.” 

“We’re glad to have you give our little town a chance,” he said softly, “Seokjin, why don’t you show her where she’ll be staying. Then, you can come down and grab some food for the two of you.” 

The residential area was deeper into the property. Just a couple of feet behind, Kim’s Abroad. You’d notice there was a continuation of the color white — it was neutral. But also made the small living space seem a bit bland. Colorless walls encaged a small kitchen which led right into the living room. There were two medium sized oval windows facing the ocean. A view you knew you’d spend a lot of time admiring and never getting tired of. 

Seokjin signaled over to the wooden door separating the bedroom from the living space. The bedroom was huge compared to your dorm back in University, and it was accompanied by an on suite bathroom. 

Thank God. 

If there was something you hated while in school it was the fucking communal bathrooms. The working around schedules to avoid the crowded showers, having to do your. . . Well having to take a shit (practically in public) was less than ideal and having to share bathrooms amongst ten other girls was not the most hygienic living situation you’ve had to live through.  

After dropping your bags near the bedroom door you plopped down on the full sized bed. You closed your eyes as tiredness weighed heavy on your eyelids. 

With the fluffiness of the mattress carrying your body, you sensed the way every bone, every muscle and every inch of you became cumbersome against your better judgment.  Though you tried and tried to sit up you couldn’t. It was so fucking impossible. . As if there was a ton sitting on your abdomen preventing you from doing anything. 

You were exhausted. Numb to your surroundings and your thoughts. You had honestly forgotten Seokjin was still in the room with you — that was until you felt the mattress dip right beside you. His body heat radiated off of him in waves and the warm sensation comforted you closer to a deep slumber. 

“Are you still up to eating or are you too tired?” Seokjin mumbled. His voice, so soft and poise almost as if he was afraid to blow your tympanum. 

Your eyes still remained closed. Behind them there was an invasive darkness — much darker than the night sky but there was also peace and all you wanted to do was to succumb to that very feeling. 

It kept you high and you felt light as a feather. You had never engaged in drug usage but you imagined this is what it felt like to be intoxicated. 

“I’m hungry but I’m also so tired,” you yawned almost instinctively, “I just want to sleep forever and ever.” 

“Sleeping forever would mean. . Well, you know. .” You know what he implied and though, that’s not initially what you meant you wouldn’t mind that either. Sleeping forever was peaceful and would spare you the burden of figuring out whatever the fuck your life has turned into. Imagine falling into a deep slumber and roaming over into the afterlife peacefully; serenely. Or maybe not. There were a million thoughts etched onto your brain and while you tried to make sense of it all, you couldn’t. You didn’t mind it but there was also a tug at your heart just urging to allow yourself to see things through. 

“I just meant. .” you paused, “I just meant I’m really really tired.”

“I know. .” he stood from where he sat on the bed and your eyes met him by the door. “Are you still down to get food though?” 

“Have you heard my stomach?” His smile was contagious as you'd quickly learned as a smile was painted on your lips as soon as his lips carved into a bright beam almost as illuminating as the golden star prancing in the late afternoon sky, “I think hunger trumps sleep at this moment.” 

That was a fib. But you didn’t really feel like being left alone with your thoughts at the moment — they were loud, overwhelming and deprecating.  To be honest you’d been lonely for way too long and you hated basking in the solitude of your own company. It’s not what you wanted or what you needed. 

Perhaps, tomorrow will be kinder. 

The sun was less brutal now. 

Likely, because the sun was en route to kiss the ocean as it continued to move closer and closer towards the horizon. The blazing star still had quite a journey ahead but it no longer sat in the middle of the sky shining down with its stinging rays. 

Late afternoons were always your favorite part of the day. Back in the city the congestion of buildings on every street wouldn’t allow for this kind of life; for a scenery like this — and again you began to feel at ease in your heart. You love it. The loud cackling of the neighborhood kids, the sound of skateboards, skates and bikes against the pavement, the smells of backyard barbecues and the briny waters just ahead, which was technically your front yard for the summertime. 

Back in the metropolis you’d learn to suffer through each passing day. Falling into the safety nets of routines and hoping for a better tomorrow.  

There was never fulfillment or satisfaction, just emptiness. A profound and very overbearing emptiness that swallowed you from the inside right into a dark pit of nothingness. 

“I hope you’re not vegan or anything,” Seokjin took a seat right beside you on the ledge of the building, your legs dangling from the edge, “otherwise we’d have to head back into town for some more dining options.” 

“I’m not vegan,” you confirmed. 

“Good, cause uncle Gong made us some crab cakes. He swears they’re his specialty but it’s my recipe,” he beamed. 

“Bullshit. .” I raised my eyebrow at his claim. 

“I’m serious!” he took a bite of the fritter, “well actually it was my mom’s but she taught me how to make it.” 

Was. Past tense. Did he realize he’d refer to his mother’s existence in such a way? He must’ve. Then, that would mean she’s no longer here. . No longer in Seokjin’s life. Did she abandon him or did she pass away? There were a million questions roaming around in your head but again you didn’t dare ask. 

Though, it was hard to imagine him caged in the torment of sorrow. Sure, everyone experiences it sooner or later but it just didn’t seem like him. You’d met him just a couple hours prior and you could already tell Seokjin was a bright soul. With a tender gaze that wrapped you up like a warm blanket and a smile that could ease any burden or pain even in the absence of words.

Already, you’d felt closer to him than anyone you had crossed paths back in the despondent sidewalks of the city. 

Seokjin is a friend. He is your friend. 

“Well, her recipe is amazing,” you utter in between bites, “so thank you for passing it on to your uncle to make.”

“It was my pleasure,” he smiled. 

A brief silence fell between the two as you finished your meal but you didn’t mind the lack of words. It was just the two of you, the lullaby of the waves, and the orange and pink hues set the sky ablaze as the sun continued its journey sinking deeper into the horizon.

Life here seemed to come right out of a painting — sort of like those you would see hung on the wall of an art exhibit and be completely divulged into, finding shelter behind the intricate lines and vibrant colors. 

“Where are those kids headed?” you asked, nodding towards the kids speeding down the street in skates and skateboards. 

“There’s a skatepark down the street,” he said, “I ride my bike there all the time whenever I wanna run away from kitchen duty.” 

“Kitchen duty?” you tittered. 

“You think I’m bullshitin’ again don’t you?” 

“You said it, not me.” 

He shook his head, laughing quietly at your playful banter, “do I not seem like a chef who also happens to be into bmx?” 

“I’d have to see you partake in both of those activities to believe it,” you shrugged. 

“I’m on prep duty early morning so I’ll get back to you on the cooking thing but we can begin with the skate park tomorrow,” Seokjin offered. 

“Tomorrow it is.” 

Seokjin swung back and forth, he seemed to have something on his mind but his lips remained sealed until finally he spoke, “What about you? Do you have any hobbies?” 

“Yeah,” you picked at the blue chipped nail polish on your nails, “I went to culinary school actually. I was a sous chef back in the city but I was fired.” 

“Oh, shit,” Seokjin’s eyes were the size of pool balls, “Led me right into the lion’s den. Didn’t you? Now, I can’t cook for you. You’d put me on the chopping block.” 

“I promise I won’t,” you clasped your hands together, “Contrary to what you might believe, cooking is not my passion.” 

“Parents?” he didn’t need to elaborate, you understood perfectly. 

“Kind of. .” You moved your head from side to side, “They didn’t really influence my decision but my dad’s a chef and I thought I needed to be just like him.” 

“And you learned you didn’t?” 

“Exactly,” you nodded. 

“So what’s your true passion?” 

“Art. I’ve always wanted to illustrate books,” you turned away sensing you’d peel too much back. Perhaps, you have. Perhaps, not but no one had ever asked you that before. No one has ever shown even the slightest interest in learning what fills your heart with joy and consumes your days with a sense of accomplishment, “it was my minor in college.” 

“You should go for it.” 

“You don’t even know if I’m good..” 

“I don’t need to,” he tilted his head in your direction, he was glowing — truly the textbook definition of beauty, “I can see the way your eyes twinkle at the mere mention of it. You should do what makes you happy.” 

“What makes you happy?” 

“This place.” His words weren’t elaborate yet somehow you kind of understood exactly what he meant. 

“What makes you stay?” 

“That’s what keeps me here,” he nodded signaling out to something in front of him but you couldn’t really decipher what he was pinpointing. 

Finally, your thoughts settled, “the people?” 

“The tide,” his chestnut eyes remained on the scenery laid out in front of the two of you. Then he continued, “it’s always serene; peaceful. And even in the havoc of storms the ocean manages to sing a tune that fills me with comfort. It calms me down.” 

“The tide.” You mumbled in solidarity with his words. Because it was true. The ocean was a music box kept open and the more you sat and listened the more at ease you felt. 

As if you were meant to be here, like you belonged here, right where you were. 

Remnants of the night before flashed in your mind and you remember Seokjin’s sweet words as he communicated that the roof was your official hideout as it was closed off to the public and uncle Gong despised climbing anymore stairs than he had to — a place where only the two of you could escape to and just get to know each other for hours and hours. You really liked the sound of that. 

You yawned, rubbing sleep off of your lids and walking into the bathroom to carry out your morning routine. Soon, you moved over to the kitchen preparing yourself a quick breakfast composed of eggs and toasts. After your rooftop adventure Seokjin had accompanied you back into the main part of town to grab a few groceries at the mini super market. Thank God for that. 

Time was now nearing the late afternoon and after throwing on a pair or shorts and a crop top you were flying out the front door, down the stairs and towards Kim’s Abroad. Seokjin said he had the early shift today. It was too early in the day for customers but he was helping with prep before the restaurant opened in about 15 minutes for the lunch rush. 

“You ready?” he asked, exiting the shop through the back door and hanging his apron on a hook you couldn’t particularly see. It was astounding how fine Seokjin looked even in the simplest outfits. Like today, he wore denim shorts which cut off mid-thigh, a white tank, black converse and the same backwards blue baseball cap which he tucked his floppy bangs under to keep them away from his face. 

“Ready.” you confirmed following him to the bike rack as he began unlocking his bicycle from the metal bar. 

Again, for the third time since you two met you hopped on the pegs placing your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling off the back of his bike. You looked down at his soft golden skin stretching over his massive shoulders. You hadn’t noticed the day before but Seokjin was well-built. The dark veins stretched up the dorsal side of his hand and forearm as he gripped the handlebars steering the bike down the street. His bicep flexed whenever he pressed on the hand brakes. 

It was distracting. But whenever you tried to take in your surroundings and drink in the beauty of this town you found your gaze focused on him. 

He was the swirls of black and white psychedelic lines inducing you into a state of hypnosis — demanding your attention be set on him and refusing you spare even a second thinking of anything else. 

That gravitational pull you felt drawing you closer to him despite how close in proximity he was terrifying. You barely knew him and already you felt as if you’d known him forever. 

“We’re here,” he said, pulling up to the green metal bench inside of the skate park. Hoping off, you finally peeled your eyes away from Seokjin and looked ahead to the crowded park adorned with ramps, stairs, rails, dips and countless other obstacles.

“What if. .” you began, ogling the kids successfully landing their tricks, amazed by their effortless talent, “what if they get hurt?” 

“They stand up and just try again.” Surely, it couldn’t be that simple. It must hurt. It had to hurt. Your past of disdained misfortune resulted in you landing on the floor, head first, one too many times which hurt like hell. Those were slips and stumbles nothing hard enough to cause any real damage — you really couldn’t imagine busting your ass here on this fucking concrete. 

“Standing back up must hurt so fucking bad though.” 

“It does,” he pointed out the scars adorning his upper and lower extremities — some healed, some not. 

“So you spend a lot of time with these kids huh?” you asked, simply wanting him to open up a bit more; to learn all of the details unique to him. Those details which made Seokjin who he was.

“Sometimes. When I’m not in the shop,” he shrugged, taking a seat right beside you on the bench. His thighs rubbing up against yours, “don’t go judging me for hanging around here on my down time. I’m not the only twenty year old in this skate park.” 

“I wasn’t judging.”

“Your eyes tell.” 

“Are you saying I’m easy to read?” you asked, his eyes shed their usual tone of dark brown under the sun rays now glowing closer to caramel. 

“Right now you are,” you didn’t know if you were daydreaming but his vision continued to circle your features, first back and forth between your eyes and then lower down to your lips. 

“Are you going to show me what you got or are you just going to sit here all afternoon,” your voice barely above a whisper. You were afraid your stupid mind would lead you to do something stupid. 

“Actually. .” he pulled a pair of white and purple skates from the backpack he previously carried on his back, “we’re here for you.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” 

“I know we only met approximately twenty-four hours ago but I have a confession to make,” you cleared your throat and he moved closer towards you, (As if that could even be possible. . He was practically sitting on top of you), wanting to preserve your privacy, “I’m a klutz. I’m clumsy. I am a walking liability.” 

“Now, you’re just making things up.” 

You shook your head, “I’m not making it up.” 

“If that is the case then it’s okay,” he pushed the skates closer in your direction, “I’m here to help.” 

“I just hope you have a first aid kit near.” 

Seokjin reached into his bag showing me a red pouch with a white cross on it. A wide smile plastered on his face. “I’m always ready.” 

“Of course, you are,” you grabbed the skates from his hands, “ but I’m expecting you to catch me if I fall.” 

“I will, don’t worry. I’ll always be here to catch you.” 

In the middle of your chest, where the seat of your soul beat rhythmically on its day to day course, today in that moment, after those two words were uttered from his dulcet lips there was a stutter in your palpitations and for a brief moment you felt a ping at your chest. It hurt so much — but it also reminded you that you were alive. 

Beads of sweat strolled down your temples as you tried to maneuver the roller blades strapped to your feet. Your balmy palms remained clasped against Seokjin's holding on for dear life. Your eyes were glued to the floor but you continued leaning into his guidance, determining that you would get it and you would not stop until you did. 

Seokjin was extremely patient. Even with your frequent squealing and the death grasp you maintain, he remained calm. Slowly guiding you over the small ramps and the mini cylindrical cone shaped obstacle with the flat tops. 

“You got this,” his words of encouragement dozed you with overconfidence and soon you began feeling invisible. As if you could conquer this and anything else thrown your way no matter how big or difficult. 

With his guidance and instructions you continued being led around the skatepark with your knees slightly bent, your upper body leaning towards him for balance and the slowed gliding of the eight wheels against the pavement. 

“You’re doing great,” he wore a gleeful grin.

You didn’t know if his praise was tainting your lack of better judgment but the words escaped your lips before you even realized what you said,  “can I try it by myself?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I forgot your helmet, knee and elbow pads,” he guided you towards the green bench once again, “let’s keep your first lesson simple. Just until we come back with the proper equipment. Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I think that was the adrenaline talking.” 

“I hope that means you’ve enjoyed yourself.” 

“Of course, as long as I’m invited I’ll definitely be tagging along more often,” you smiled. 

“You’re always invited.” 

Unlike the betrayal of your tremulous legs and arms while skating Seokjin maneuvered his bike with confidence. He dropped into the bowl without hesitation, then jumped. . levitating in mid air. You were stunned, it was as if he could fly — soaring in the sky like an eagle. He did it again, and again, and again and you cheered him on loudly hoping to reciprocate a fraction of the support he’d expressed as he helped you skate. 

“How did you even manage to do that. . without even breaking a sweat?” you were still stunned as the two of you walked down to the shore after leaving his bike back home after leaving the skatepark. Home. Well, temporary home. 

He shrugged, still a cocky smirk planted on his lips, “I used to practice a lot.” 

“You’ve got to teach me to do all of that.” 

“First, I gotta teach you to not fall off your skates.” 

“Right,” you smiled. 

The two of you walked right beside each other leaving no room for space in between — your hands kept brushing against one another and that friction alone radiated prickles of heat to crawl on your skin. 

“You’ll get it soon,” he leaned towards you, bumping his shoulder into yours, “you’re an amazing student. . So far.” 

“So far?” you gasped, taking fake offense at his meager ‘compliment’. 

“So far,” he nodded, “. . because you also did try to go off riding on your own after one lesson.” 

“I didn’t go off running,” you rolled your eyes, “I asked if I could. Drama queen.” 

“Because I was holding on.” 

You shook your head, “again, drama queen.” 

You and Seokjin walked on the sidewalk parallel to the shore line for quite some time now but he kept babbling about this secret spot he swore was worth it. Without a line of questions or an inch of hesitation you followed along knowing that each adventure promised contained a photo album of memories in your mind to go along with it. Still, you didn’t mind the distance and you didn’t care what the destination looked like as long as the plans involved having Seokjin presence right there with you.  

“This way,” he said, cutting down a small pathway leading towards the beach, “I don’t think your flip flops will cut it though,” 

“We’re not too far from the house. I could go back for some sneakers.” 

“There’s no need for that. We’re practically almost there. Come on,” he crouched down in front of you. Was he really insinuating you’d do what you thought he was? “Hop on.” 

Whoever said Mt. Everest was the highest peak on planet Earth was fucking lying.  Though, you have never found yourself on the mountains’ slope, already, you knew being carried on Seokjin’s back was far more exhilarating than any other journey you could embark up the Himalayas. From his back, the world seemed anew. It was brighter, clearer and scorching too. You weren’t really sure if that was because his height boosted you a bit closer to the sun or if it was because his palm rested on your bare thighs, holding you in place as he ascended down the large rocks. 

Perhaps, this is the kind of freedom he felt while riding his bike at the skatepark, quickly you began to understand why he chose that high. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Except you weren’t. His touch was ardent against your skin and while it felt like you played too close to fire, it was also addicting. All you knew is you wanted to feel that blaze on every inch of your body consuming you into lively flames. 

“We’re almost there.” 

“Hey Seokjin, can I ask you a question?” 

“Whatever you wanna know. I’ll answer,” you wrapped your hands around his neck, resting your elbows on his shoulders. His warm breath fanned your arms causing goosebumps to etch on your skin. For a brief second he rested his head against your forearm before continuing, “but first please call me you gotta start calling me Jin.” 

“Jin,” you mumbled, “it suits you.” 

He chuckled, “you had a question?” 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “back at the skatepark you said you used practiced a lot. . on your bike.” 

“I did.” 

“You’re still referring to it in past tense.” 

“I am.” 

“Why?” you really didn’t want to push too far but you also had a desire to ask and know. 

“BMX, the competitions,” he began, “it’s something I did in the past.” 

You furrowed your brows, “But you still do it. What I mean is you still go to the skatepark.” 

He sighed, where was something weighing on his heart. You could feel it, “Yeah, now it’s just a pastime. Something I hold onto. Just to have some sort of life line between the old me and the present version myself.” 

You and Jin were polar opposites. While he chose to dwell in the past, in the blink of an eye you ditched yours back in the city. Without hesitation you abandoned your sluggish life as a caterpillar lurking through the shadows of skyscrapers — awfully slow and urging a better brighter tomorrow. Metamorphosis indicates that after the cocooning stage the insect should blossom into a beautiful butterfly. You weren’t at that last stage yet but you hoped one day you would be. 

“What was the old you like?” 

He shrugged with sour thoughts tugging the corner of his mouth downward, “I was young. . way too young obviously and naive but I also urged for calmer waters.” 

“Did riding help out?” you asked. 

“It did. It helped quite a lot for a long time,” he mumbled, “. .until it didn’t anymore and now I guess I’m trying to make peace with it.” 

“Is there a particular reason why it ever stopped helping?” You felt his muscles tensed as his slender fingers sunk a bit deeper into your skin. It didn’t hurt but you’d hit something you were trying to avoid, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” his feet finally came in contact with the golden grains of sand but he didn’t make any effort to put you down. No, he only held on tighter, “it just drags along a string of. .” he paused, “memories.” 

“Bad. . memories?” 

“Bad memories,” he confirmed. 

The ocean sang its soulful tune just a couple of feet away as the waves continued their rhythmic crashing on the shore. It was soothing. . peaceful and it eased your nerves against his warm palms. 

“During that time. .”  he began, sighing heavy as the soles of his feet continued sinking into the sand as you trotted further down the beach, “I was wandering around aimlessly—in my head for too long. I lost someone close. Someone who I loved more than I even tolerate myself.” 

“Jin, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” there was a slight tremble in his voice, as if he was trying to get a massive knot down his esophagus, “it happened years ago.” 

“Still, time measures no grief. It must’ve been hard then and it probably still is,” unconsciously, you found yourself laying your head against the back of his neck, “but it is okay to feel, and cry and allow ourselves time to process and make our own peace. We’re only human after all.” 

“I’m still trying to make peace with it everyday but I choose to remember our positive days,” his eyes focused on the footprints he left behind on the sand, “her love, her embrace and tenderness, her charisma. . it was very easy to love her.” 

Her? Her. 

The only woman he’s ever referred to in the past tense was his mother shortly after the two of you met. You wanted to ask and express proper condolences. Not to be nosey but to be there for him and provide a shoulder for him to lean on. Make sure he’s actually okay, although he seems to be dealing with things well you still don’t want to trigger any melancholy memories. 

“The good memories will keep her alive and grounded in your heart,” your hand hovered over the center of his chest. “I’m glad you’re on the road to making peace.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“You should continue riding though,” you murmured, “Despite what happened I’ve seen you soar on your bike. It makes you happy and you should do what makes you happy.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he giggled, “I see what you’re doing.” 

You gasped, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Of course not,” he laughed. 

“I mean it though.”

“I know,” his hands roamed higher down the avenue of your thighs a bit closer to your bum but not quite. The feeling was sensational—vertiginous and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t read through all of the scenarios blooming in your head. . The ones where his touch doesn’t  just stop mid way up your thighs. No, instead he continues inching higher and higher until. . “Thank you,” 

His words pulled you out of your daydream yet you still felt the despotic heat coursing through your body. Too potent to ignore. 

Seokjin’s secret spot is breathtaking. A monument right out of a National Geographic magazine cover. The two of you lay in the small cave with an oculus skylight at the top allowing the sun to peek through when it sat high on the cerulean sky along with two archways opened right up to the roaring sea. 

The grains of the golden sand felt therapeutic and warm under your indolent frame. There was a brisk breeze cooling you down, not too cold but just cool enough to dry your previously balmy skin. 

It was a slice of heaven. . right here, right now. 

And Jin, he laid right beside you his body heat radiating in eminent waves. Finally his dark strands on full display no longer hidden under the cap the way it’s been since you met him days prior. His shirt was off displaying his sculpted physique which captivated your attention entirely. 

Seokjin’s secret spot is breathtaking but so was he. And fuck was it blinding the way he was shining brighter than the amber star overhead. He was ravishing; stunning through and through. 

“Was the trip worth it?” he asked, his dark eyes burning a hole at your side. 

“I barely made as much as a trip, you carried me the entire way here,” you scoffed, “is your back really doing okay?” 

He rolled his eyes, “for the hundredth time my back is doing just fine.” 

“So, let me ask you, was the trip worth it with me on your back the entire time?” your expression was deadpanned.

“Wrong question. .” he smirked. “Did my hands and back find comfort in carrying you the entire way? Yes.” 

His hands on you. Your mind flashed in spurs to that very moment where his warm touch birthed goosebumps on your skin. Quickly, that feeling became looped in your mind and even now, when his hands were no longer on you, you felt it—God, you felt it. 

“And the truth comes to light,” you tutted, kissing your teeth and shaking your head in disapproval, “is that all you wanted? To feel me up, Jin?” 

The apples of his cheeks were dusted in a deep roseate shade, “I mean. . it’s not all I wanted.” 

“Are you blushing, Seokjin?” you mumbled, “I thought this was a confessional. I mean you enjoyed having your hands on me the entire way here, right?” 

“Right,” The crimson shade traveled to the tips of his ears. He’s bashful; how cute. 

“Jinnie?” 

He hummed. 

“I also enjoyed it,” you said, “it’s too bad though.”  

“What is?” His eyes were doe-like, holding a luminous glimmer which projected the intricate ocean waves on them as they continued rocking right before you. 

“Your hands never really made it where I needed them.” 

He gulped, “and where was that?” 

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” your fingertips toyed with the button of your shorts. Typically, you weren’t this forward and simply let your misfortune map the adverse roads of your life but today you didn’t care to fight against yourself. You wanted him. You needed him, “of course, we can pick up where you left off and actually progress higher this time.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Are you okay with that?” 

“I’m so okay with that.” 

“Is that the only way in?” you pointed in the direction the two of you came in. 

“Boats can pull up through the archways as well,” Jin’s bottom lip was tucked under his lips and his gaze devouring you entirely. 

Of course, you began the show by slipping your hands under the fabric of your denim shorts. Your middle finger began drawing vertical lines against your clothed slit—dragging it slowly. Up and down, again and again, until the friction became useless to your zealous desire. 

“Then, we better be quick,” you breathed out. 

“I better be quick,” he emphasized moving closer to you. 

The shadows of his face were so close to yours you could draw out every little feature and decipher the hints of eucalyptus and mint from his morning shampoo. Your hands landed on his cheek, leading him closer to you; pressing your bodies to one another. 

Seokjin’s lips were warm and soft like velvet moving in a uniformed dance against yours. It was slow yet passionate as if he was trying to savor every inch of your lips—as if he wanted to be consumed by the taste of your tongue. 

The pads of his fingers left behind a trail of goosebumps as they moved lower and lower, until they came in contact with your shorts. In a swift moment he unbuttoned them and began drawing small figures onto your skin right where the hem of your panties sat. 

Between his lips and his touch you felt inebriated, as if you were mindlessly roaming around somewhere between the clouds and the sky. 

He pulled away but his forehead rested on yours. His lips still hovered over yours as his paced pants fanned his cool breath on them. 

“Can I. .?” 

“Please, Seokjin. Please touch me,” the pleads dripped from your lips semi-automatically and you had to admit there wasn’t a hint of shame to hold you back. 

There was nothing on earth more exhilarating, more enlivening than the feeling of Jin’s hands sinking under the fabric of your silk underwear. Not riding a roller coaster, not climbing the highest mountain on earth, not even winning the fucking lottery. His touch was intoxicating. . just like his kisses and there was nothing you’d rather feel. Except, probably a bit, more. 

“Faster, please,” you whined, swaying your hips against his touch as he drew circles on your aching clit. If obeying and compliance was a stern trait then it is one Jin conveyed with no push backs or arguments. 

“Tell me something doll,” his fingers traveled lower lining up against your entrance. He pressed against your cunt but never pushed past—the squelching of your wetness echoed in your ears. It was all you could hear, “did you ever think we’d be in this predicament this early on?” 

You gasped, urgently shaking your head as his fingers became wrapped in your walls moving in and out of you slowly, “I-I didn’t. But I did hope for it.” 

He sneered, “you hoped for it, huh?” 

“Dreamt of it on my first night here actually.” 

“I dreamt of it too, you know,” he whispered softly, his lips traced the shell of your ear, “the way you’d feel, your sweet sounds, the way you’d be clenching around me the exact same way you are right now.” 

His name was a mantra laced on your tongue and you uttered it once and once again as if it was muscle memory. The only thing, the only name coherent enough in your head—the only one you knew, which was probably true. You couldn’t even recall your own. 

But he had no mercy on you, his digits had no mercy on you—they just moved in and out of your slickness quicker and quicker as time progressed and you were so close, you practically stood at the edge as your orgasm approached in a massive wave. 

“Please,” you moaned, “please let me-“ 

He shook his head, “Just a bit longer, doll.” 

You hadn’t even realized your eyes were shut tight, the back of your eyelids tainted with desperation. And Jin was no longer stationed beside you, instead he kneeled in front of your bent legs spreading them farther and farther away from each other. 

The ocean still sat just a couple feet ahead, still singing that soulful song which eased your nerves the longer you laid on that very sand waiting—urging for Jin’s touch on you. 

It was all you could think of. . the way his touch burned trails of passion on your skin leaving behind a desire so potent that you just couldn’t extinguish without his help.  

He was the only one who could put it out. 

Seokjin removed both your shorts and panties leaving them pooled at your ankles. His austere gaze remained on your cunt and he seemed to be drinking in every detail of your blossomed rose. 

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, almost inaudibly.  

“Jin,” your eyes, your voice both dripped with desperation. 

He nodded understanding your unspoken command almost instantly inching closer and closer between your thighs until his face sat just a couple inches away. His tongue was frigid against your slit it weaved a bolt of electricity intertwined along the ridges of your spine. A gasp escaped your lips as he perfected the combination of sucking and licking your sensitive bud before dragging his flattened tongue along your folds. 

A delectable repetition. One, more saccharine than any dessert you’d had the burden of making back during your days in the kitchen. 

This was better. It was so much fucking better. 

Seokjin’s slurp noises against you, your sweet incoherent sounds and the cries of the ocean were one in the same. All of them were the end product of an orchestrated ballad. 

“Jinnie,” your nails massaged his scalp before gripping his face, pushing him closer to you. God, you needed him closer. So much fucking closer. 

“Yes, doll?” His words almost muffled an evident refusal to stop what he was doing. 

“Can I h-help you out?” 

“With?” he continued. 

“Even from up here I can see how tight your shorts have become,” you hissed, “I want you in my mouth while you eat me out.” 

Seokjin pulled away. Your juices coated his chin and mouth, “That’s fine baby, but I want you sitting on my face.” 

Jin took your spot sprawled out on the sand. You climbed on top of him, placing your knees on either side of his face claiming your seat on his features. His hands snaked around your thighs, pulling you down, positioning your soaked cunt to be aligned with his mouth. Meanwhile, you leaned forwards helping him pull down and finally kick off his briefs. 

Seokjin was big. Bigger than you’d imagined. 

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock as you took his tip past your lips, finally getting a taste of his pre-cum. At the same time you felt him take a swipe on your fold before his eloquent tongue dug inside you diligently licking your walls, ridding them off your juices. 

The iteration of a sinful melody. Building up tension in the pit of your stomach while your back arched and your toes curled. 

Though, you tried to focus on the way his cock moved in and out of your mouth—his deathly grasp on your thighs and his tongue. . It was all too distracting. 

“Fuck, Jin,” you keen too dazed in pleasure to fully grasp the way you tugged on his hair keeping his head in place as you began to grind on his face, finally succumbing to the urgency of reaching your approaching peak. 

He hummed under you, leading your unoccupied hand down to his cock and guiding it up and down his shaft. This went on for some time. Felt like forever and then finally he came in warm spurts coating your hand. And that very image drove you to your climax as he licked you dry. 

Carefully, you climbed off his face and laid right beside him, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. 

Your name sounded like peaches in his strained voice, “you. . that was amazing.”  

“You’re amazing,” you giggled, “but once again you did all the work.” 

“I don’t mind doing all the work,” he leaned over leaving peppered kisses on your cheek. 

“You say that to all the girls who occupy the Airbnb?” 

“Nope,” he emphasized the p, “just you.” 

“I find that hard to believe. Just look at you.” 

“You think my charms and good looks are hard to resist?” he beamed. 

“That and the third leg in between your thighs.” 

He laughed. “Well, believe it. You’re the only girl I’ve done. . anything with for years.” 

Your heart beat rhythmically in your chest at the utterance of his confession. His words didn’t mean much at all but you couldn’t help the fluffers in your head and the way your stomach felt so giddy you thought you’d vomit. 

It felt foreign but you welcomed it nevertheless. You liked that feeling. 

“You wanna go swimming?” you asked. 

“Skinny dipping?” he quirked a brow. 

“You’re not worried about someone coming?” 

“If someone’s come in for the past like fifteen minutes they saw me neck deep in your pussy,” he stood up taking off his shirt and leaving his shorts behind before running towards the aquamarine waves, “I don’t really think it matters anymore.”

“If?” you asked following behind him. 

The day before yesterday was a dream. 

A dream, no a wet dream. Composed of your fervent fantasies. And you? You lived in that cave and you probably would for the rest of your time here. Dwelling on his warm touch on your skin—goosebumps rose on every inch of your body causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand straight. 

Your fingers followed the trails he’d mapped on your body, paved so intricately, they were so easy to follow and all roads led to the same exact place. 

You were so wet, but you probably had been ever since that day. Was that normal? You didn’t care, you just wanted him to touch you again. 

There was a knock on the door waking you right out of your daydreams. Grabbing your robe you wrapped it around your figure before heading towards the door. 

“Hey,” you opened the door standing aside allowing him to come in. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been MIA since yesterday,” he kissed your cheek—you guys weren’t nearly official but it kind of felt like you were. . or you hoped so anyway, “Uncle Gong has been on edge lately. There’s another seafood restaurant opening up on the pier. It's got him going crazy.” 

“Crazy prep hours?” 

He sighed before slouching down on the couch, “crazy prep hours,” he confirmed. 

“You must be so tired,” you cooed, “do you want anything to eat? I can make you something.” 

“I’m okay, besides food is not exactly what I’m craving.” 

“Hm,” you straddled his lap. “Then, what is?”

“I should’ve kissed you after I ate you out yesterday,” his hands slid under your robe kneading your upper thighs, “you would’ve gotten a chance to see how addicting you taste.” 

His phone began buzzing, it was Uncle Gong. Jin sighed before pressing the accept button and in a matter of seconds you heard the older man’s voice in a frantic banter. 

You were one hundred percent sure it wasn’t Uncle Gong’s intention to cockblock but you just wanted Seokjin to stay and fuck you into the mattress. 

You were still dripping just thinking about it. However, by the look on his face you were certain he had other news—ones which hindered your fantasies of early morning sex. 

“I gotta go.” 

“Do you have to?” you whined. 

“I don’t want to,” he leaned over, leaving a kiss on your lips. It was brief and your body screamed for more but you didn’t vocalize it. Instead you sat in silence as he continued to carry out a mental battle attempting to find a victo. He had to go, you knew that much. You also knew he wanted to stay. You wanted him to as well but he couldn’t. 

He stood from the couch but before he could make his way towards the front door Jin turned back around, kneeling right before you. His hand reached up cupping your face as he leaned closer until his silken lips landed back on yours. However, this wasn’t just another peck. 

This kiss. 

It swept you under the currents of the bestial sea and you sank deeper towards the ocean floor but you weren’t scared. In the void, under the darkness of the tide Jin was a beacon of light—guiding you towards an eternity where his lips kept moving on yours the way they were right now. 

This fucking kiss. 

Is your beginning but also your end. 

It took your last breath but also made you feel alive. 

You didn’t want it to end. . but it did, “meet me at the restaurant tomorrow tonight. Uncle Gong is letting me prepare something for you. Took a lot of convincing but I had him come around.” 

“I’ll be there.” 

“Seven o’clock.” 

“Just twenty four hours.” 

He smiled before closing the door behind him. 

Back in the city dating was rather difficult. 

Not only were you a workaholic, you also avoided any kind of social events and situations outside of the restaurant. 

Here, things were a bit different. You came here for a chance at self reflection, to work on yourself and find the real you but instead your path became intertwined with Seokjin and while you didn’t mind you also couldn’t help but reprimand your heart whenever it skipped a beat at the sight of him. 

Sort of like it was doing right now, Jin was in the kitchen of Kim’s Abroad and you sat at the small table set-up for a candlelit dinner for two. 

The gears in the rules of the universe shifted Noone ever went through this kind of trouble—to plan something this nice after they’d already had their fun with you. Especially if things would have taken their  course as easily as they did with him. 

Well, except, maybe Seokjin. 

Cute. 

“Tonight’s special,” he set both of your plates on the table revealing a cut of grilled salmon garnished with lemon wedges, and accompanied by coconut rice and roasted potatoes, “I hope you like it. . but please do lie if you hate it. I’m sensitive.” 

You laughed, mounting your spoon with the perfect bite of all the foods he’d prepared combined before taking it in your mouth, your taste buds danced in delight, “Seokjin, this is heavenly. It is truly amazing.” 

“Is that the honest truth or are you just looking to spare my feelings?” 

“I would never lie,” you swallowed before continuing, “This is all absolutely delicious.” 

“Better than Uncle Gong’s crab cakes?” 

“I thought that was your recipe?” 

“It is,” he shrugged, “but he thinks he makes them better than me.” 

“I don’t know, I think he wins this war,” you joked, “those crab cakes were killer.” 

“Traiter,” he scoffed.

Dinner was exquisite but small talk was left to a minimum when you both realized Uncle Gong’s restaurant curfew was quickly approaching. After cleaning up and closing up you and Seokjin headed towards the roof, unwilling to give up the night and let it cease. 

The street lights lit up the street corners and while there were people roaming around here and there—it was nothing compared to the congested afternoons. 

But you liked this. 

The feeling of you and Seokjin being the only people left behind in the world, the songs of the waves still playing in the background and the stars gleaming overhead. 

“Has this always been your secret spot?” you asked, laying beside him on the navy blue duvet. 

“Yes,” his eyes glowed under the light of the moon, again they looked lighter than you’d remembered, “I practically lived up here like three summers ago.” 

“An escape?” you asked, not really needing to emphasize. 

He nodded, “after mom passed the house choked me with her lingering presence, her scent, her love. I wanted her back. To spend just one more day with her and make sure she knew how much I loved her and how much I would miss her but that’s just not how life worked and she was no longer there.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you snuggled closer into him, laying your head on your chest—his heartbeat thumped against your ear, “I can’t even imagine how hard that time must have been.” 

“It was,” he laid his head on yours, “It was harder than hard if that even makes sense. I shut a lot of things out and no longer found comfort in the things I loved. .” he paused. 

“Like riding?” 

“Yeah,” he sighed, there was a slight tremble in his voice, “it’s just mom wasn’t there to cheer me on anymore. Looking out at the stands was depressing because her usual seat was empty. Sadness overshadowed everything on the track, she was all I could think of.” 

You didn’t say anything, just allowed him to carry on without interruptions. He continued, “Uncle Gong tagged along whenever he didn’t have to manage the restaurant but it just wasn’t the same, you know?” 

You hummed letting him know you still listened attentively. 

“Wounds heal over time though and while this one tears a bit every time I think of her, I know she’s up there watching over me,” he said. 

“She is, she’s always been watching over you and she always will be.”

“I know,” he simpered, leaving a soft peck on your forehead. “What about you? Are you missing your life back in the city yet?” 

“Not a chance.” 

“What is this vendetta you hold against the city?” 

“The city is such a hypocrite. I never understood how so many souls could live in the same place and yet one person could still manage to feel so lonely,” you exhaled rather loudly, “life. . things were supposed to be different, you know?” 

“Different isn’t always bad.” 

“I suppose not.” 

“It’s not,” a slight smile sat on his lips. A brief silence fell between you two and then he asked the question you’d avoided giving any thought to since setting foot in town, “do your parents know you’re here?” 

“Not. . really?” 

“That sounded like a question.” 

“It kind of is.” 

A slight smile was displayed on his lips, “Are you here hiding from them?” 

“Kind of. .” you cackled, “it’s not really hiding if they don’t know I’m here to begin with right?” 

“So they don’t know you left the city?” 

“They know—I’m not in the city and taking a small break but they don’t know exactly where,” you say mushing all the words into one long word, not really wanting to decipher what you were saying, “they also don’t know I was fired. I think that’ll break their heart too much.” 

“Are you planning to tell them anytime soon?��� 

“I was going to tell them. . once I make it back to the city and find a new job.” 

“Oh..okay.” 

His embrace grew tighter, he held you closer and you could feel his warmth wracking your nerves. It was like he didn’t want to let go.. not now. Not ever. And you didn’t want him to either, “but I’m not sure if that truly is the reality of what I want,” you sighed, “I was miserable in the city, the life I lived there was rigid. Besides, cooking is not what I intend to do for the rest of my life. I just. . I don’t know what to do.” 

“All of the roads leading to our destiny are paved the way they are for a reason,” Jin offered, “they mold us and guide us to the exact spot where we are supposed to be.”  

“You’re right.” 

“Also call your parents. You deserve to pursue what you want but they should also know,” he said. “Plus, I bet they’re worried sick.” 

“Again. . you’re right.” a low sough escaped your lips mimicking the swift draft blowing by in the late night. 

”I know I am,” he said smugly, “what would you even do without me?”

“You’re a cocky motherfucker you know.” 

“If by cocky motherfucker you mean multi-talented handsome Jin. Then, yes I do agree with that.” 

“Not what I meant,” you mumbled. 

“You know, you weren’t talking all this shit when we were in that cave a couple days ago.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s because my mouth was kind of a little busy.” 

“Right,” Jin drew in a deep breath, his fingers toyed with the straps of your dress, “you know I think we left something unfinished back in your apartment a couple of days ago.” 

“Yeah, it’s too bad that you had to go,” you turned around now lying on your side facing away from him, “because I wanted—I needed you to stay so bad.” 

“Needed, huh?” he asked, pressing closer against your back side. Lingers of sandalwood and citrus invaded your nostrils. An aromatic scent so rich and so addicting all you craved was to bury your nose to the base of his neck and grow faded off his fragrance. 

You closed your eyes, ensnared in the trance of his soft pants as he began grinding his crotch against your ass at an agonizing pace. 

His clothed dick marked you before you even had the chance to feel him inside you.

 It was torture. 

“Jin,” you moaned. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” he replied in a derisive tone while clicking his tongue. His hands reached lower and lower until they landed on your inner thighs, “am I close to where you want me?” 

You nodded frantically, “Higher.” 

His fingers delineated the goosebumps forming on your skin as he dawdled his journey to your soaked cunt. 

“Higher, Seokjin. Please,” your voice tainted with desire and desperation. 

“Tell me, is this where you want me?” His digits traced your folds spreading your wetness en route. Your dress now hiked up to your waist as Jin began rubbing small circles on your clit. Then, slowly he repeated, “Is this where you wanted me?” 

“Hm.” 

“You were anticipating this weren’t you?” Jin whispered, causing downpours of chills to trickle down your back, “is that why you wore no underwear?” 

His fingers continued working in-between your folds, “Uh, fuck yes!” You screamed out. 

There were approximately billions of stars in the Milky Way galaxy, a lot of which you were looking up to at that very moment. And yet as you laid there under the incantation of Seokjin’s finger you witnessed the birth of many stars flickering into life. 

Your chest heaved as you settled down from yet another astounding high. 

“Doll,” Seokjin swiped his fingers coated with your juices onto your lips, as if he was applying lip gloss on you. You opened your mouth taking his digits in licking them clean. “Holy fuck, you will be the death of me.” 

“Jin?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I need you.” 

He laid flat on his back patting his lap, “come on, baby girl.” 

You straddled him, your wet pulsating cunt rubbing against his clothed erection. There was a painful hunger rooting in between your legs—craving nothing but to have him buried deep in you. 

“Take it out,” he instructed. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down along with his briefs just enough for his erection to spring free. 

Slowly, you began sinking down on his cock. Your mouth agape at the overwhelming feeling of him filling you up while your hands landed on his chest for balance. Once accustomed to his size you began to move up and down on his length as he disappeared deeper and deeper inside of you. 

Seokjin was full of pleasant surprises; his fingers, his mouth, his tongue so it was really no surprise his dick was equally as blessed. 

“Seokjin,” you whimpered. 

“Oh doll,” his hands gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin likely to leave marks behind—guiding you to move at a quicker pace.  “Fuck!” 

“God, you feel so good.” 

The composition of your bodies moving against each other molded into the perfect whole. You were two, but while he fucked into you the way he was you felt as if he belonged inside your walls and you never ever wanted to feel empty again.  

“Doll, I’m so close,” his rough and raspy voice was a bass tune in your ears, “so fucking close.” 

“I want you to cum in me. Please, Jin,” you continued riding him, your skin slapping on his continuing your journey on his cock sliding up and down over and over until your walls began to clench around him. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached your peak and you collapsed on top of him, out of breath and too tired to do anything that required moving in any way. 

“Now tell me, is there any chance you’d stay even after the summer’s over.” 

“I’ve been thinking about it,” his skin was scolding even over the layer of his t-shirt, his chest and forehead glistening by a thin layer of sweat, “a lot actually.” 

“And what was the conclusion?” 

“I like it here,” you kissed his cheek, “I think I’ll be staying. . For now. Take some time to myself and explore things.” 

“I like it when you’re here.” 

“That reminds me,” you reached for your purse, “ I have a surprise for you.” 

You pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to him. His eyes scanned the sketch, “Is this us?” 

“It’s us. . in the cave,” you giggled, “I tried to capture every moment.” 

“I especially like the one with my head between your legs,” a rosey shade painted his cheeks. 

“Had to portray my favorite moment from that day.” 

“We can always recreate it. To liven the memory, you know.” 

“Right now?” 

“Right now,” he disappeared lower in between your thighs, his head hiding under the fabric of your dress. 

Kind days were definitely in forecast especially if you had Seokjin right there by your side. 

-

-

-

an: holy fuck this was a blast to write. as always if the smut is intolerable pls look away (although, that may be hard cause there are multiple smut scenes so. . uh, yeah).

for the seokjinnies who miss seokjin very dearly .

#bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts imagines #kim seokjin #bts jin #seokjin smut #seokjin imagine #jin smut #jin x reader #jin x y/n #jin x you #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin drabble #bts jin smut #ksj

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)

Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.

Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.

When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.

Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.

a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!

xo - h

That’s it baby cum for me. 

Such a good little slut for Daddy.

Wish that dildo was my cock. 

Fuck this is so hot.

The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this. 

Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day. 

His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone. 

Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone. 

Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.

Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay. 

Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into. 

Two Years Ago

It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé. 

During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase. 

But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college. 

For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car. 

Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello. 

When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong. 

Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon. 

That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship. 

As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection. 

So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift. 

He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon. 

What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table. 

As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior. 

It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.

Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning. 

When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life. 

His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever. 

After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options. 

“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said. 

“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together. 

But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.  

The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant. 

Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown. 

During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours. 

Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can. 

Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case. 

A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over. 

Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.  

Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of. 

“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.

His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him. 

It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.

His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach. 

But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain. 

Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion. 

In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since. 

But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him. 

“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.” 

“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”

The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer. 

Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”

Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh. 

“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly. 

Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him. 

“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious. 

“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”

“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!” 

Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions. 

“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.” 

Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.

“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.

“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls. 

“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!” 

“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit. 

“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”

Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.” 

Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room,  it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.

Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!” 

“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.

 “No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”

The entire room went silent. 

“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm. 

Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one. 

How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men? 

Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying. 

“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”

Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.” 

Seokjin winced. 

“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”

“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added. 

“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”

Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous. 

“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.” 

“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased. 

“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want. 

“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”

“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up. 

Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize. 

He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know. 

“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?” 

Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.” 

The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face. 

Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him. 

“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?” 

Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”

A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.

“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.” 

Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress. 

“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking. 

“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.” 

Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up. 

“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?” 

That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.

I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot. 

When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in. 

Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty. 

So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)

I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.

For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel. 

Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t. 

Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making. 

Jin, the moon. 

That’s it. He was the moon.

Present

“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.  

Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job. 

Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread. 

The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over. 

And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.

He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers. 

One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right. 

If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.

But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.

“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.

On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.

It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own. 

You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.

You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears. 

You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.

But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world. 

Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway. 

Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends. 

When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life. 

Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor. 

He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that. 

A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.

Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.

And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.

But try telling his dick that.  

Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties. 

And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.

This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading. 

During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him. 

He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste? 

And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.

He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–

Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while. 

As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms. 

He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach. 

Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?

She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow. 

Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man. 

Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating. 

“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said. 

He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.

Where was that man now? She didn’t know.

She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived. 

Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.

He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.

It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn’t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else. 

She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free. 

She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.

Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her? 

No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future. 

This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.

With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown. 

“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found. 

She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to. 

She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back. 

She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall. 

“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.” 

She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner. 

There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August. 

The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off. 

You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality. 

To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people? 

You don’t. That’s the problem. 

Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends. 

You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to. 

Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous. 

But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play. 

And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence. 

Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary. 

As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t— 

“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”

Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel. 

“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”

“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”

“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.

Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.

Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.  

After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk. 

But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. . 

From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments. 

Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them. 

Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.

But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.

The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you. 

But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real. 

Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.  

And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill. 

Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod. 

When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin. 

The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in. 

Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into. 

For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin. 

Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty. 

It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.

Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in. 

And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.

The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce. 

And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours. 

When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red. 

If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.

Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude. 

All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing. 

Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down. 

With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry. 

With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity. 

In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off. 

You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait. 

Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.

The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.

“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots. 

When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee. 

Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe. 

Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill. 

“That all depends on how much you practice.”

“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor. 

Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”

“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to. 

As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon. 

This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice. 

And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties. 

“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse. 

There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon. 

Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.

Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast. 

And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore. 

With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags. 

You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll. 

When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace. 

Snow is really romantic.

“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks. 

“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining. 

A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward. 

“What do–”

“I just–”

You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin. 

“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating. 

“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”

You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn. 

“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?

Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him. 

While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes. 

You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection. 

He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.  

He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time. 

While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim. 

Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional. 

You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response. 

“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”

Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says. 

Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak. 

His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” 

You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”

You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it. 

“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”

As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in. 

“Yeah,” you reply lamely. 

You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression. 

Then, he leans in.

Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.

Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek. 

All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.  

This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness. 

If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock. 

It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you. 

“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name. 

“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?  

“Turn around,” he says. 

Wait, what? 

You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind? 

Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.

“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused. 

He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for? 

“Wha–”

You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet. 

Fuck.  

“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath. 

Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago? 

“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck. 

Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet. 

“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead. 

Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off. 

He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board. 

“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.” 

You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it. 

“Your best girl?” You ask lightly. 

Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”

You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her. 

If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.

“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue. 

“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.” 

You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily. 

“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes. 

You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him. 

God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.

You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control. 

After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter. 

He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him. 

In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor. 

Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster. 

You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large. 

You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend. 

You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down. 

The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal. 

“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you.. 

You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked. 

“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself. 

“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard. 

Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height. 

Holy shit.

Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside. 

You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over. 

“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince. 

“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.” 

Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing. 

“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.” 

You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold. 

“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.” 

You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair. 

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other. 

“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns. 

“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”

You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.” 

Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head. 

“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother. 

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything. 

“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”

Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair. 

“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.” 

Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self. 

You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk. 

A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it. 

“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”

Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth. 

His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it. 

Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere. 

You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam���s apple. 

That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.

Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs. 

His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face. 

“I–I’m sorry!” 

Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen. 

You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot. 

And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into? 

The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door. 

Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down. 

Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.

Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates. 

If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess. 

Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.

“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.

Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess. 

You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters. 

You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same. 

You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin. 

He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip. 

He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count. 

He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen. 

“Wait,” he says, and you freeze. 

Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours. 

“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”

Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.” 

Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.” 

His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.

Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?

You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it. 

As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”

“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own. 

“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful. 

As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something. 

With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well. 

You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give. 

You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead. 

That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard. 

You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day. 

How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous. 

Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips. 

God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around. 

He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock. 

Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard. 

If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen. 

Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy. 

It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all. 

Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension. 

You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this. 

You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas  up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.  

The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal. 

Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible. 

You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with. 

As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it. 

You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit. 

Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop. 

You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier. 

The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now. 

And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today. 

You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum. 

Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation. 

You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop. 

You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind. 

You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point. 

You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising. 

Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money. 

You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive. 

Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved. 

There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring. 

You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate. 

In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well. 

You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category. 

The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”. 

You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil. 

“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans. 

Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.

You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch. 

“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”

His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you. 

“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.” 

The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts. 

To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.

“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”

Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.

“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.” 

You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity. 

The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more. 

“Please,” you moan at your screen. 

Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself? 

“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”

You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.

“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”

Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate. 

Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything. 

Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again. 

“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.” 

Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied. 

He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock. 

“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.” 

In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash. 

You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.

Please, Daddy. Please let me cum. 

I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear. 

Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock! 

Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course. 

The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record. 

He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar?  “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.” 

Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe. 

There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock. 

“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit. 

The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip. 

“Is this what you’re begging for?” 

Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes. 

Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip. 

“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow. 

“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.” 

You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like. 

Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.

“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me.  Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out. 

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing. 

His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out. 

Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory? 

There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far. 

“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”

Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release. 

He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan. 

With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”. 

“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.” 

The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling. 

You��ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant. 

Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago. 

He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site. 

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

#seokjin smut #bts smut #jin smut #ksj #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin

[oddinary4bts]

Forever | ksj (teaser)

☆summary: three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again?

☆pairing: Kim Seokjin x female reader

☆rating: 18+

☆genre: ex-fiancés to lovers, idol!au, angst, smut, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, oc and jin fight a lot and don’t talk enough, oc is a little mean to jin and jin is a patient angel, cursing, inaccurate cooking terms, oc gets wounded on a nail, a bunch of nostalgia and regrets. explicit content: choking kink, grinding, a little bit of tits play, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), a little bit of dirty talking, dom!jin, big dick!jin, protected sex

☆word count: 25.2k words

☆a/n: Here is the teaser for the new fic in the Life Goes On series! Check out the series masterlist to read the stories of the other members! I hope you will enjoy this story even though it’s pretty angsty <3. It is technically supposed to be the last fic in the series but it doesn’t really matter since they don’t overlap all that much. Namjoon makes a quick appearance and most of the other members get mentions so you can catch glimpse of what will happen for their own stories. Enjoy!!!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Do you know why I went to the gazebo?” he asked, with the tiniest voice he could muster up.

“Why?”

“I hoped I was going to find you there, like that summer we met.”

You pushed away from him, so you could look him in the eyes. So you could see the truth in his dark gaze, and in the sad smile that adorned his lips.

“You remember?”

You were startled to see a tear rolling down his cheek. “How could I forget?”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Coming Friday October 14th, 8 pm EST!

#forever #kim seokjin #kim seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin angst #kim seokjin fluff #kim seokjin ff #ksj fanfic #ksj fanfiction #ksj ff #ksj angst #ksj fluff #ksj smut #kim seokjin x reader #ksj x reader #life goes on series #jin fanfic #jin fanfiction #jin smut #jin angst #jin fluff #jin ff #jin x reader

[ugh-yoongi]

you suck! | ksj

(or, the one where everything goes very wrong but a lot more goes very right.)

→ pairing: vampire!seokjin x f. reader → genre: supernatural; strangers to lovers; roommates; crack, fluff → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex work, taekook are also chaotic vampires, a lot of twilight references for someone who has never seen or read it, completely made up and non-canonical vampire lore, a teeny-tiny bit of angst, jin’s forehead has powers or something, jin takes dick pics on a polaroid (canon), one very purposely awkward smut scene that includes: slight praise kink, unprotected sex, oral, kissing. overall this is very soft and they are just two idiots very in love, your honor. → wordcount: 18.3k → a/n: i started this almost exactly a year ago after buying this print from @yelhsaart​ and becoming completely obsessed with it. i just wanted to write jin as a goofy, idiot (affectionate) vampire. as i said in the warnings, the vampire lore is completely made up here. some of it is canon, some of it is inspired by the wayhaven chronicles, some of it is just plot device. don’t take it too seriously. → thank yous: lauren, for once again being my beta and telling me when my brain writes sentences that don’t make sense. jess, for being born today — happy birthday, this is my lame and completely self-serving gift to you. bee, for always encouraging my chaos.

You were fifteen the first time you were mistaken for someone else.

It’d been a guy in the grocery store, a bag of lemons in his hand and a confused expression on his face. He’d tapped you on the shoulder, started talking at you like the two of you were well-acquainted before you’d even turned around, and he’d seemed startled when he realized you weren’t who he was expecting you to be.

Sorry, he’d said. You looked just like my daughter from behind.

The second time had been during college: a girl had caught up to you in the quad. Had been calling out a name that certainly wasn’t yours and had grabbed your elbow when you hadn’t responded to it. She’d looked horrified when you weren’t who she’d been looking for, either, and stuttered out an apology as she let you go.

Oh my god, I’m so sorry, you just—you looked just like my friend.

You’d looked like the granddaughter of the elderly man who lived in your mom’s neighborhood. You’d looked like the mother of a kid who’d gotten lost at the mall. Even your friends got mixed up sometimes during nights out—approached strangers they thought were you at the bar, danced with them in nightclubs, drunkenly clung to them at parties.

Your mother had told you once that you just had one of those faces—a top ten anime betrayal coming from her, considering she’d been responsible for half your genetic makeup. Sure, you’re pretty, but it’s always been a common beauty; soft, delicate features where others might have more striking ones. And it’s… fine. Maybe you’d gone through bouts of insecurity every time the world deemed some new feature desirable and you didn’t have it, but you’d always been able to move on.

Except now.

Because now—now you’re wondering if having one of those faces is how you find yourself in this situation.

In a dark alley in between the club and a 24-hour convenience store as a tall, broad-shouldered man with long, very sharp teeth tries—and fails—to sink them into your neck.

He coughs awkwardly, pulls back as he tightens his grip on your waist. Your back is pressed to his chest, so it’s not like you can see his face, but you think if you could there’d be a very perplexed look on it. “Well, this is awkward, huh?”

You blink. “Yeah.”

“Hm. Do… do you think they were pranking me?” he asks, and despite the situation in which you’ve found yourself, you find a sliver of comfort in the overfamiliarity in his tone. As if the two of you are old friends who talk all the time and there’s absolutely nothing weird about this. “Because I’ve gotta say, I’ve done this a lot and this is a first for me.”

There’s no reason whatsoever for the way your belly flips at his statement. He’s a vampire, for fuck’s sake. Of course he’s bitten a lot of people. But it still wounds your ego that you’re just another proverbial notch in this guy’s neckpost. “P-Pranking you? Who would do that?”

The man scoffs and you can feel the vibrations against your skin. “You clearly haven’t met my clan. We got these two new guys, right? And they’re nice, you know? I like them a lot. As much as I can like someone, I guess. But fuck they’re annoying. Really young. Like to fuck around, especially with me since I’m so much older, and I should’ve known this is something they’d do—”

This has to be a dream, you think. There’s no way this is real. You’d stumbled into the alley to find your friend who’d gone for a smoke and never returned, and now you’re here. There’s a vampire at your back, talking your ear off about fuck knows what after having unsuccessfully tried to bite you, and he’s still pawing at your waist with his superhuman strength. And it hurts but you’re too nervous to bring it up, because what if you do and he remembers he’s supposed to be killing you, and that’s it? You’ll be a goner all because you had a brief, fleeting moment of stupidity, like the kid back in high school that always asked the teacher if they were going to collect the homework after they’d forgotten. Everyone hated that kid, and you’ve learned nothing.

You swallow. “I-I don’t think they pr-pranked you,” you stutter out. “I, uh… I just have one of those faces? Maybe you just thought I was someone else?”

“Someone else?” he repeats, and his grip finally loosens. He doesn’t let you go, because this is how you’re destined to die, but his hands move to your shoulders to turn you around.

Because your brain is the ultimate betrayer, your first thought is holy fucking shit. Your second thought questions the word selection in your first thought, because this very beautiful man in front of you is a vampire and would probably hiss and go up in smoke if you said the word ‘holy’ in front of him. And your third thought is, well—it’s not an appropriate thought to be thinking about a man who’d just tried to bite you and drink you dry, to say the least.

“You seem weirdly okay with me being a vampire.”

See, here’s the thing: you’re not going to pretend you know the ins and outs of vampire culture or whatever, but you’ve always known they exist. Not even an open secret or anything. Not a secret at all. That’s just the world you were born into. So, really, there’s no excuse for your reply to be, “It’s fine, I’ve seen Twilight.”

Because here’s the second thing: yes, you’ve always known vampires exist, but they’re still something to be feared. Still an apex predator stalking the shadowed parts of the city once the sun goes down. Long ago, the human world made accommodations for them so the two of you could coexist, but they were put in place for the same reason they started putting seatbelts in cars: no guarantee they’ll save your life, but it’s the best chance you’ve got at staying alive.

“Wow,” the vampire deadpans. “Okay. Let me tell you all the problems I have with that movie—”

You’re shaking like a leaf as you blurt out, “I guess I’m just in shock that I’m still alive so I’m saying stupid stuff,” and it comes out all breathy.

He stops rambling then. Snaps his jaw closed and looks down at you with what you’d call concern if he was human and hadn’t just tried to kill you. “Oh shit,” he says. Then he’s shucking off his thick coat and wrapping it around your shoulders, and if you hadn’t been in a daze before, you sure are now. “Here, take this. Wow, I have no manners. My mother would be so pissed if she heard about this. Please don’t tell her, she’ll stake me.” All you can do is nod; it’s not like you know his mother. Maybe she’s nice.

The coat just… feels like a coat. There’s no residual body heat lingering in the wool, which makes sense, but you’re thankful for the extra layer all the same. You’d told your friends going to a club in early January was stupid, but you’d only been thinking in terms of hypothermia or the common cold or looking like an idiot for being the person who orders a cup of hot tea at the bar. Small picture stuff. Encountering a vampire hadn’t even made your list of concerns, which is probably why the universe chose you to star in this moment out of everyone else on the planet.

(The universe does love a good bit of irony.)

Then, as if you hadn’t already made yourself look like a fool, the vampire’s eyebrows knit together as he says, “Also, whoa, hey, I wasn’t—I wasn’t gonna kill you.” He’s looking at you with such concern that it just makes you feel stupid. A vampire pities you.

Maybe it’s adrenaline or maybe you’ve just had a very, very fucked up night, but your cheeks are burning before you know it and fat, hot tears are rolling down your face. The vampire really looks concerned now, which just makes everything worse. “I’m s-sorry,” you manage to blubber out. “You—you probably d-don’t have to deal with ma-many crying girls, huh.”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Well, no.” He scratches the back of his neck, and it’s the first time since he’d grabbed you earlier that you’re without both of his hands on you. They hadn’t been warm, but you find yourself missing the weight regardless. “I mean, like—sometimes people look like they… want to? I can sense they’re scared of me, but usually I… you know… before they start doing… um, this.”

Great. Not only had you been unkillable, you’re also the first victim to have a mental break in front of him. As if this night couldn’t get any worse. Now you’re upset and embarrassed. “I can’t believe you eat people for a living and I wasn’t even good enough to get murdered,” you wail.

Had you been looking, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic that flickers across the vampire’s face. He looks absolutely frazzled in a way that would’ve made you laugh. Maybe it would've made you feel just the tiniest bit better, because this is uncharted territory for both of you. If you feel lost at encountering your first vampire—whose coat you’re still wrapped in, nonetheless—that anxiety is amplified tenfold for the man in front of you. Imagine his shock when he’d tried to bite you and quickly discovered you had the Fort Knox of necks.

“Hey now,” he says, doing his best to shush you. He already knows he’s in for a reaming for outing himself to a human; the last thing he needs is to be caught by anyone else. “Anyone would be lucky to murder you. You’re totally good enough! Don’t say things like that about yourself.”

It takes a few seconds, but he seems to register his words at the same time you wail harder. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. Oh wow, I’m so bad at this. I just—I meant you’re… you know.” A grimace mars his otherwise beautiful face, a silent prayer for you to somehow just know what he’d meant because there’s no way he’s going to be able to explain it. “Also, hey, what the fuck! Let’s rewind to what you said for a second. I don’t eat people, first of all, and I certainly don’t eat them for a living.”

All you can do is blink up at him. “Oh.”

The vampire scoffs, and you think there’d be a blush creeping up his neck if he was able to do such a thing. “Eat people for a living,” he repeats. “Like I’m some competitive eater. Of people.”

“Okay,” you murmur, and it’s a struggle to even get out such a simple word. “Can, um—if you’re not going to kill me, can I—can I… go?”

“Oh,” the vampire deadpans, looking down at you before his eyes move to his large hands, still gripping your shoulders. “Whoops. Technically I’m not supposed to let you go—job and life insurance, I’m sure you understand—but since you’re not biteable, I don’t see why not.”

A small glimmer of hope parts the proverbial clouds above your head. Sends your adrenaline spiking, and you’re still trembling but the thought of being able to see your cat again dampens it just enough. Truth be told, you’ve always known Xander was a bit of a problem child. Definitely not a cat anyone would willingly take ownership of in the unfortunate event of your premature death. So, yeah—the thought of Xander nibbling on your toes as you sleep in your own bed in your own apartment is a really comforting thought after thinking you were going to be murdered by a vampire in a sketchy alley in the not-great part of the city.

Once the vampire’s grip on you loosens, you shrug out of his coat and hand it over. “Thanks. Let’s do this again sometime, hm?”

You feel yourself blanch. “Um—”

“Geez, I’m joking!” he assures you. Is it weird to find a vampire’s laugh endearing? Because you do, and you question all of your life choices in the span of six seconds. “Wow, you’re really uptight, huh?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t tried to bite me,” you quip, face beginning to flush with anger. He just laughs harder.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to mention,” you continue, a manicured finger jabbing into his chest, “you totally ruined my night. My friends dragged me out to celebrate me, you know? I finally got that promotion at work that should’ve been mine years ago, but my shitty boss gave it to Steve! Fucking Steve. But I finally got it, so my friends were like, ‘Oh my god, let’s go out to celebrate! We’ll buy all your drinks!’ Which—do you know how fucking cheap my friends are? They never pay for drinks! I was drinking on an unlimited tab, and you ruined it, you fucking dickhead! And I’m gonna have to go back to therapy!”

The vampire just looks amused, now. Cocks his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side with a bemused little smirk that drives you crazy in the bad way. “Ah, I should’ve known. You did taste an awful lot like a soulless office worker.”

You scoff. “And how would you know? You couldn’t even bite me.”

His eyes narrow, a sliver of a glare that might be intimidating had you not heard his squeaky laugh. “I did enough to get the idea.” You roll your eyes. “The gist. A waft. A—”

“Aren’t you leaving? Don’t you have some other innocent person to chew on?”

“Chew—wow. And to think I was going to offer to walk you home!”

Involuntarily, your jaw drops. “And what makes you think I would’ve accepted? That’s easily the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“You think I’m the only vampire hanging arou—”

“Lurking,” you interject. “Skulking. Creepily hiding in a bush. Not hanging around.”

The vampire blinks once, twice. Takes a steadying breath and says, “I should’ve eaten you.”

You shrug. “But you can’t, so.” Then your two brain cells connect. “Wait, does that mean all vampires can’t bite me? Am I immune? Is this my superhero origin story?”

“It’s giving me a fucking migraine, is what it is.”

You huff. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Because I don’t know the answer.”

“Oh, you weren’t granted infinite wisdom in your old age?”

“Who are you calling old?” he snaps. “I’m the third-youngest in my clan, I’m not old.”

“Are you older than one hundred?” He nods. “Two hundred?” He nods again. “Then you’re fucking old. That’s, like, more than double my lifespan.”

He rolls his eyes. “How old are you, then?”

“Twenty-seven.” His eyes widen a bit, like he’s prompting you to continue. “What? I’m twenty-seven.”

It’s a weird thing, watching the color drain from a vampire’s face. Not that you’ve ever been an expert, but you had seen both Twilight and Interview with the Vampire so you’d assumed they’d all be pale. Devoid of warmth all over. Cold hands, pallid skin, no heartbeat. So it freaks you out to watch the vampire in front of you go white as a ghost.

“Oh my god,” he moans, panic overtaking his features. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god—”

“You can say that?”

“Holy fucking shit,” he chants instead, eyes darting around the alley like he’s hoping a bush will materialize so he can dry-heave into it. “Oh my god, I cannot believe—oh shit, oh fuck, oh no—”

You click your tongue, heeled boots stomping on the asphalt. “What is your problem? You look like you’re about to croak over and die.”

He turns to you, then, eyes as big as the moon. There’s a grimace on his face you’d only seen that one time you’d tricked your cousin’s kid into sucking on a lemon. “You’re my problem! I almost ate a literal infant!”

“Excuse me—”

“Twenty-seven? Are you joking? Do you want me to go to prison?”

“For trying to murder me? Yeah, it’d be a good fucking start!”

The vampire pulls at his hair, clearly exasperated. “For the last time—I was not going to kill you!”

“Oh, right, you were just going to nibble on me a bit! The human can have a little exsanguination, as a treat.”

“Is that what the kids call a may-may? Because I don’t understand that reference.”

You make a gagging sound. “What the fuck? You mean a meme?”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway—”

“Right. Doesn’t matter. I’m taking an Uber home, anyway. I live too far to walk.”

Awkwardly, the vampire clears his throat. “I should walk you.” As you move to protest, he sends you an apologetic smile. “I’m not the, uh—the only one who’d want to eat you.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really trying to tell me my Uber driver’s gonna be a vampire?”

“It’s not an uncommon side hustle,” he retorts, offense painted across his features.

You pause, head tilted to the side as you try to determine if he’s messing with you. “Are you messing with me?”

“No…?”

“Really?” you deadpan. “You really expect me to believe there are vampires out there moonlighting as Uber drivers?”

He scoffs. “Well, we certainly can’t daylight as them, now can we?”

And that’s the story of how a vampire walks you back to your apartment.

It’s cold and it’s a long walk, takes the better part of an hour and that’s with a few shortcuts sprinkled in. Your companion talks the entire way, never shuts up even for a second, and you wonder if all vampires are as talkative as him or if you’d just run into one who’s kind of annoying but chivalrous and charming, somehow. He lends you his coat again and pops into the convenience store to buy you gloves and a cup of coffee. You jokingly ask if he bought them with money from his part-time rideshare gig and you learn he has a contagious laugh.

You also learn his name is Seokjin.

By the time you reach your door, you also-also learn you’re far more endeared to him than you should be.

“I’m not sure what the protocol is for this,” Seokjin says, scratching at the back of his neck. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he peers down at you, the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I’ve never done the walk of shame back to my own clan.”

You snort. “I can do your makeup and let you borrow a dress and some heels if you want the full experience.”

There’s a riposte on the tip of his tongue that rapidly melts away, his eyes softening as his mouth opens and snaps shut a few times. “Most people wouldn’t say it like that,” he says, voice quiet like he’s telling you a secret.

“Like what?”

“Full experience,” he quotes back to you. “Most of them would probably say human experience.”

“Ah.” You smile, moving to wipe nonexistent dirt from the lapel of his coat. It’s obscene, the way it stretches across his broad shoulders. “Trust me, you don’t want the human experience. It’s all student loan debt and unrealistic beauty standards and oh my god I have to figure out what to cook and eat for dinner literally every single night until I die and doing math to figure out if the nineteen streaming services you’ve signed up for are actually cheaper than just getting cable.”

“Sounds terrible,” he jokes. But you can see it, the sadness that lies dormant in him. Not that it’s much of a shock. Whatever kind of life he lived before this is most likely centuries in the past, long gone but not entirely forgotten.

So it’s purely out of empathy and the depressing look on Seokjin’s face that you say, “Hey, wanna come in and meet Xander?”

He startles, back suddenly ramrod straight. “Xander?”

“My cat. He’s a bit of a hellspawn but you two seem like you’d get along, for obvious reasons.”

“Are you calling me a hellspawn?” he teases, eyebrow quirked.

You shrug. “I’m not-not calling you one.”

There’s his squeaky laugh again. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not sure you know exactly what you’re offering, so I’m going to do the responsible thing and decline.”

“Why, are you on some kind of housecat-only diet or something?”

He laughs again, harder this time, and you find yourself wishing you were funnier just so you can hear it all the time. Laughter looks good on him. “No. A lot of vampire lore is bullshit, but the one about needing to be invited into someone’s home is true.”

“Oh.” You think on it for approximately four seconds. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like you can eat me, right?” Still, Seokjin shrugs, almost looking sheepish. “Okay,” you say, hands raised in defense. “I won’t force you. I’m a big believer in consent and respecting boundaries. But you’re always welcome to come by if you’re feeling lonely. You know where I live now.”

It takes a minute for your words to sink in. Seokjin’s face, which had been flushed from both the cold wind and his incessant laughter, seems to soften at your offer. Then, it’s in a hoarse, croaking voice that he asks, “Why?”

And all you can think to say is, “I don’t know, you just look like you need a friend.”

That should’ve been the end of it.

You never should’ve seen Seokjin again.

The memory of him should’ve been lodged into an unused crevice of your mind—some dusty, cobweb-covered wrinkle that also housed lyrics to one-hit wonders from the ‘90s and the formulas for trigonometric ratios. Sine, cosine, and tangents may have been lost to the recesses of your mind forever, but Seokjin hadn’t.

Which is why you’re shocked when he shows up at your doorstep a mere two weeks after the night he’d tried to bite you.

“Seokjin?” you stupidly ask. Of course it’s him. You’ve made a lot of questionable choices in your life, but meeting and somehow befriending multiple vampires isn’t one.

He looks different, though. His once-dark hair is now a pale shade of pink, longer than it had been the last time you’d seen him, secured loosely to the crown of his head. Stray strands frame his face—a face that you wouldn’t admit to being handsome, even under duress and especially now—and it’s scattered with tiny cuts and dried blood, a purple bruise beneath his right eye, streaks of dirt down his cheeks.

To put it mildly, he looks like shit.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Seokjin’s frazzled. Can’t seem to concentrate on anything. “Can I come in?” he asks, and even his voice sounds rough.

Judging from the last time you’d invited him into your apartment, you know he wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. You know the weight those words carry. “Yeah,” you answer instantly, opening your door wider. “Yeah, of course. Come in.”

You steer him toward the couch, depositing him there as you fetch a blanket and wrap it around those god-forsaken shoulders of his. This is normally the part where you’d offer to make him something—coffee, a cup of tea, something bitter and alcoholic—but you’re not sure what he drinks other than blood. Which is not a thing you have outside of your body.

It all makes you feel really helpless. You barely know Seokjin. Probably shouldn’t have entrusted him with irrevocable access to your apartment. Definitely shouldn’t have done that, in retrospect, but he’d just looked so dejected. What were you supposed to have done? Those sad eyes of his had thrown a lasso over your head and roped you in before you could even think about it.

And now here you are.

Nine-o’clock on a Saturday night. Previously alone in your apartment, because one near-death experience was enough to put you off clubbing for a while. A knock on your door. A mysterious man on the other side. He has sharp teeth. Once tried to use you as a chew toy. Grass is green, water is wet.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask, unsure of what to do with your hands. You’re tactile. Always have been. The hugger of your friend group, so you want to reach out for him, comfort him somehow, but you’re not sure if you should. If he’d want that.

Seokjin heaves a deep sigh, finally looking up at you. Exhaustion is all you can see. “Maybe just some water.”

You nod. You can do water, had even gotten one of those fancy pitchers with a filter as a housewarming gift to yourself. You even manage to change it regularly and on time, a water-based ‘fuck you’ in the face of adulting and everyone who says it’s difficult.

(It is very difficult.)

But hey, you’re managing to save both the environment and downtrodden vampires alike, so you deserve to feel that tiny sliver of pride.

Water acquired, you offer it to Seokjin who accepts it with trembling hands. “Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask, because you can’t really say you’re saving a downtrodden vampire if you don’t even know why he’s slumped against your couch.

“Not really,” he grumbles.

With a sigh, you plop onto the couch next to him, hands once again itching to reach out and comfort him in some way. “Can I touch you?” you ask, and once he nods, you maneuver him so he’s laying on his side with his head in your lap, fingers immediately busying themselves in his blush-colored locks. “Is this okay?” Seokjin nods again.

That’s how the two of you remain until you can feel the tension slowly melt away. Could be minutes, could be hours. You’re not sure. All you know is someone had shown up at your doorstep asking for help and that sometimes it’s nice to run your fingers through someone else’s hair. Gently untangle someone else’s knots. Scratch lightly at someone else’s scalp.

You try not to think much of it beyond that. You don’t think about Seokjin being a vampire. Don’t think about the fact you barely know him. Definitely don’t think about the fact he’d tried to bite you. It all seems a bit inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, species be damned.

Finally, long after you think Seokjin’s fallen asleep, he asks, in a faint voice you’ve only heard from him once, “What do you usually do?”

You hum. Wonder if Seokjin can feel it. “What do you mean? Like, when I’m sad?” He nods, a quiet yeah. “Mm. Depends on why I’m sad, I guess. Usually a long shower and a glass of wine if it’s just a bad day. Trashy reality TV and ice cream if it’s more serious.”

This seems to pique his interest. “What are those?” he asks, sitting up so he can stare at you with wide, curious eyes. The water sloshes in the glass.

“Huh?”

“Those things you said.”

“Trashy reality television and ice cream?” Seokjin nods, more strands of hair falling from the topknot. “You’ve never watched reality TV?”

“Don’t watch TV at all.”

“What.”

He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “I’m busy, okay? I don’t have time for things like that.”

“Aren’t you immortal?” you quip. “You have, like, unlimited time.”

Seokjin levels you with a look—one that clearly says what the hell do you know about being immortal and also time management? You ignore it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a very addictive personality. I can’t get sucked into television. I’ll never stop watching it.”

“That’s fair,” you acknowledge. “You’re so far behind it’d be, like, impossible to catch up, anyway.”

His gaze narrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the first television broadcast aired in 1928. That’s almost a century’s worth of stuff to catch up on.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, but surely not all of it is worth watching,” Seokjin replies, eyebrows disappearing beneath his hair. You confirm his words with a noncommittal hum. “What’s your favorite?”

“Season five of Love Island UK.”

“That’s it? Only one show?”

You scoff. “There’s no only about it. It’s got everything you could ever want in trashy reality television, okay? Especially after Casa Amor—”

“I don’t know what that means.”

You pause. As much as you’d love to go on a tirade about Anna and Jordan—and, really, you’ve been waiting for this, having been limited to barely legible tweets that went ignored since your friends refuse to watch it—Seokjin’s right. He has no idea what any of this means. “Oh. Well, you can start with something easier. You don’t want to peak too early, you know? All TV post-Love Island will just be a letdown.”

“Of course,” Seokjin agrees easily, “we wouldn’t want that.”

“It’d be very tragic,” you tack on. Seokjin just nods.

Although he seems a bit more comfortable, he’s still obviously restless. Crooked fingers have been picking at the pilling of his sweater since he sat down. There’s a small pile of it on the floor, right at his feet, that he’s oblivious to. Not that you’re going to mention it, either, but the last thing you need is for Xander to eat it and hack up some disgusting combination of hairball and sweater fuzz, so when Seokjin isn’t looking you subtly push it under the couch with your foot.

Knowing this is a situation that requires precise delicacy, you clear your throat and angle your body in a way that conveys optimal comfort for the recipient, and say, “Not that I mind sharing my streaming passwords with you, but do you mind if I ask why you’re here?”

Seokjin sucks in a breath that he aborts halfway. Holds it for a few seconds before he exhales heavily, the weight of the world almost visible on his shoulders. As a soulless office worker, as Seokjin had once kindly called you, you’ve seen your fair share of exhaustion—coworkers slumped over at their desks during overtime, those still fighting hangovers on Monday mornings at the coffee machine, the last day in the office before a holiday break—but Seokjin looks… different. It’s a different kind of exhaustion, you think; one bone-deep instead of artificial. Not the kind of exhaustion that can be fixed with a nap or a weekend spent recuperating in bed.

“I… I’m not really sure why I came here,” he begins, tone soft and careful. “Everything happened pretty fast and all I could think of was the last time I was here and you told me I was welcome to come by anytime.” He looks up at you, then, like he’s waiting on confirmation. You nod. “Word travels pretty fast in circles like mine. Mostly for survival. Like, if there’s some kind of threat and we need to leave quickly, we set up ways to inform everyone as quickly as possible a long time ago. But—but things are different now. Faster. Smartphones and the internet and all that.”

“Did… did someone, y’know… see us?”

Seokjin sighs. A fractured, broken thing. “Yeah,” he croaks. “It’s not uncommon. It happens sometimes. I’m not the first one to ever do it—”

“Bite someone with an impenetrable neck?”

You smile when the corners of his lips tug upwards despite himself. “Sure, if you want to put it that way. Like I said, it’s not uncommon, but it’s… a big deal, I guess. Clans are really sensitive to the treaties put in place. Biting a human is a no-no since they established the blood banks, but biting someone, failing, and letting them go?” His words trail off, gaze locked blankly on something in the distance. “That’s unacceptable.”

You swallow, trying not to let the guilt seep in. “So, what’s that mean, then? Unacceptable?”

“It means you’re a liability.” He starts picking at his sweater again. Starts humming a song to himself that you don’t recognize but know will stick in those scarcely-used corners of your mind. A haunting kind of melody; something that pines, something that hurts. “Clans can’t risk a liability.”

“They… kicked you out?” Seokjin nods. “What does that mean?” you ask again.

Not that you know Seokjin very well, or at all, but you’re smart enough to notice patterns. You’ve noticed the way he fidgets when he’s anxious. That he’s more amenable to skinship then, too; doesn’t mind you touching him. You notice the way he blinks differently when he seems unsure of what to say or how to say it, which seems out of character for him in the first place. You’ve noticed the anguish on his face since you opened the door, so you expect more of that when he answers your question.

What you don’t expect is his clenched jaw. The crease between his eyebrows. How he seems to chew on the inside of his cheek before he steels himself and says, “It’s a death sentence.”

Because, as he informs you, a vampire is very unlikely to survive on their own. They need a clan. Need its resources and its protection. Out in the world, alone, there’s no guarantee of survival; of food and safety and camaraderie. A rogue vampire, Seokjin tells you, is a living, breathing target, and everyone knows it.

“When did they kick you out?”

Seokjin shrugs. Picks at the skin around his fingernails. “Not long after I left your place. A few hours at most. Told me as soon as I returned that they’d have to vote on it but not to get my hopes up.”

“Wow. That’s fucked.”

“That’s just how it is. Always been that way.”

You scoff. Scrunch your face up in a way that’s surely ugly but gets your point across. “So? Doesn’t mean it’s not fucked.”

He snorts a laugh and raises his eyebrows, studying you. “Are you gonna be the one to go up against centuries of vampire politics?”

“Who knows what I might do to defend your honor,” you joke. That squeaky laugh of his makes a welcomed reappearance when you throw an exaggerated wink at him.

Much to Seokjin’s relief, step one of Cohabitating With a Vampire is not going up against centuries of vampiric politics. Instead, you follow through on your promise and give him the passwords to all your streaming services.

(“There’s, like, twenty of them. I’ll never remember all this.”

“Then write it down. Didn’t I tell you part of the human experience is doing math to figure out if all this bullshit is cheaper than cable?”

“I don’t have to be human to tell you it’s definitely not.”)

Step two is getting him one of those cheap prepaid cell phone plans from the convenience store. Nothing fancy, because Seokjin has enough problems with technology, just something that allows him to make calls and text you throughout the day when he needs an outlet for all his feelings about Avatar: The Last Airbender. He finishes all three seasons in just over a day, so there are a lot of texts to send.

Things continue like that for a while. Seokjin is surprisingly easy to live with, which might not be saying much. You’d lived with a few people in university that probably skewed your views on what does and does not make a good roommate, but Seokjin is polite and respectful of your space, which is really all you can ask for. Not that he makes much of a mess, but he always cleans up after himself when he does, and he always tells you if he’s going to be out late. He has a key, so it’s just to ease your worries.

Because he doesn’t… talk. About the whole excommunication thing. Hasn’t said another word about it since he broached the topic a few weeks ago. You’re not an idiot, though. You can tell it weighs on him heavily, can tell he seems to second guess leaving your apartment each time he lingers by the door. But then he sighs, pulls his lips into a tight smile, says gotta eat sometime, and off he goes.

Hence why you’d recommended he start with bingeing cartoons.

Which, so far, has worked out well. You respond to Seokjin’s mistyped texts with the appropriate amount of interest and the occasional meme and you don’t push when his thoughts become less joke-y and more introspective. He asks your thoughts about the concept of found family, if you think people (and by people he means Prince Zuko) are capable of redemption or if sometimes someone can truly be too far gone.

Asking for a friend? you ask.

Something like that, Seokjin writes back.

Things are fine. Good, even, despite the fact that Seokjin is still very much a stranger and how abruptly you’d had to adjust to someone else being in your space. Which brings you to—

“How long would you like to stay?”

Seokjin’s head snaps up, eyes wide like you’ve just caught him doing something he shouldn’t. “Oh. I, uh—I haven’t really thought about it.”

You hum in acknowledgment and turn your attention back to the stove. Human food makes Seokjin sick, so you only cook for yourself, but he’s taken to keeping you company in the kitchen each time you make dinner. Asks you about work, about what you’re making and how you make it; asks you where things go as he tidies up behind you.

Now, he stays firmly planted on the other side of the kitchen island, using it as a barrier. “I—I can… go? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“That’s not what I said.” You turn off the burner and reach for a plate. “I would’ve asked when you’re leaving if I was trying to get rid of you.”

“Oh.”

Xander wanders in and wraps himself around your legs. “You have to give me more credit, Seokjin. I’m very assertive. My sister says it’s because I’m an Aries.” You scold Xander when he tries to jump on the counter, claws scraping on the cabinets as he scurries off. “So please believe me when I say if I wanted you out of my space I would just say that. I have no qualms about it. Fuck, he actually fucked up the cabinets, the little shit.”

“Okay. Okay, uh—I guess I’ll—”

You turn to Seokjin, face exasperated. “You literally tried to bite me and low-key murder me. What happened to that guy? You were so cocky.”

“Ugh—”

“Kind of an asshole, too, if I’m being honest. You don’t have to be all timid around me.”

Seokjin barely makes it to the stool at the counter before he’s slumping into it. “Sorry, it’s just—this is weird for me. I’ve never been… alone.”

After you finish plating your dinner, confirming for the billionth time since he moved in that Seokjin does not, in fact, want to risk the stomachache that accompanies human food, you take a seat beside him. A questioning stare asks if it’s okay if you touch him, and he nods minutely, finding the comforting weight of your hand on his bicep seconds later. “I’m not gonna pry, but just—just remember that you’re not alone, okay? I know I can’t relate, but you can talk to me about whatever you want, whenever you want. Xander, too. Sometimes he’s better because he can’t respond, he just has to sit there and take it.”

Sensing he’s being talked about, Xander meows from his spot on the floor. He still seems skeptical of Seokjin sometimes but has otherwise moved onto resigned nonchalance. “Xander’s a pretty weird name, huh?” Seokjin says, leaning down to scratch at his head. “Where’d you come up with that?”

Whatever bubble of friendship you’ve created between you and Seokjin is erased instantly as you awkwardly explain the plot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“How much do you know about human holidays?”

Seokjin barely spares you a glance. Ever since you’d mentioned Buffy, he’s made it a point to binge all seven seasons and tell you, in extreme detail, how inaccurate it is. “Hm?”

You roll your eyes, spitefully deleting the nice sheet set you’d put in your cart for him. “Human holidays. How much do you know?”

“Just the big ones, I guess. The ones bastardized from the Pagans.” You hum thoughtfully. The kind of hum that Seokjin knows means you want something, because it’s one he’s heard a million times already. But the lure of Buffy is strong, especially the musical episode, and he’s still unable to tear his eyes away from the screen when he follows up with, “Why do you ask?”

“Tomorrow’s a holiday. Just wondering if you’d want to celebrate.”

“Depends what it is.”

Suddenly shy, you balk at answering. “Forget it,” you say, re-adding the sheets to your cart along with an overpriced memory foam pillow. Just because Seokjin doesn’t sleep much doesn’t mean he shouldn’t do it in luxury when he does. “It’s silly.”

Catching the hesitation in your tone, Seokjin turns to you with an eyebrow quirked. “Tell me.”

You nearly groan at the way your cheeks warm. “No.”

“Since when are you shy?” he teases, one corner of his mouth catching on a smile. “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not shy,” you argue, despite all momentary evidence to the contrary. “I’ve just decided I don’t want to celebrate a holiday with someone who can’t stop watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer for two seconds to pay attention to me.”

“Ah,” Jin says with a snort of laughter. “You’re not shy and embarrassed, you’re jealous and needy.”

You delete the sheets and pillow again.

When you get into work the next day, there’s a bouquet of flowers waiting for you on your desk and a small box of chocolates.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Guess I know a thing or two.

-SJ

You buy the goddamn sheets, paying extra for same-day delivery.

Having a roommate is strange.

You’ve grown used to having Seokjin in your space. You’ve made room for him, made a room for him, and have finally ironed out all those awkward kinks that come with living with a stranger.

So it feels weird when he’s not around. Wrong, almost.

Which is stupid, you tell yourself. He’s allowed to go out. Now that he’s mostly shaken the nerves from his exile, he’s been doing that more frequently. He’d told you a few weeks ago that he can finally go out and not spend the entire time looking over his shoulder, which is great for him, but you spend every second he’s gone worrying about him.

And now it’s spring, so all you can do is lay in your bed with the windows cracked and wonder if every police siren you hear is because something awful has happened to him. Which is also stupid, because the man has superpowers, for fuck’s sake. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, can do far better of a job than you could ever hope to, so there’s no sense in worrying.

Still.

Your mind is working overtime to convince you of all these horrible things, like Seokjin’s gone to a club and was spotted by someone in his old clan and now there’s no more Seokjin. Just—poof!

At times (like now) you feel like an overbearing helicopter parent, always two seconds away from sending a text demanding to know where he is and who he’s with. Let me know you’re safe in the next thirty seconds OR ELSE. You think that has a nice ring to it. Doesn’t matter that Seokjin’s at least ten times your age, OR ELSE has never been an empty threat from you.

Your thumb hovers above the send button as you hear the lock turn in the front door. You’re up and halfway down the hall in an embarrassingly short amount of time—just enough to watch Seokjin stumble inside and nearly brain himself on the console table.

This is weird and not correct. Seokjin doesn’t stumble. He’s infuriatingly composed at all times, especially when he’s dressed to go out and leaves a bit of forehead showing. Then he’s really composed. Carries himself with an unshakeable arrogance that has you wondering how one’s forehead can wield so much power.

“Jin?” you call out, both to make sure the man in front of you is actually him and, if it is, to give him a heads up and not scare him to death. (Because, as you’ve also learned, Seokjin startles very easily. It’s both endearing and a source of great distress for him.)

Seokjin looks up, catches your eye at the same time he catches himself on the wall. You think he’s trying to take off his shoes. “Oh hey!” he sing-songs, and your stomach drops straight to the floor.

He’s drunk.

Wasted, even.

Which shouldn’t be possible, according to him. Something about his inhuman metabolism that prevents it. “Are you—Kim Seokjin, are you drunk?”

“No,” Seokjin insists, “that’s impossible. I—I can’t be that.”

You eye him warily. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.” Grabbing him gently, you maneuver him to the couch. “Sit. I’m gonna get you some water.”

Five minutes later, he’s properly hydrated and slumped against the arm of the sofa, moaning about how he can’t see and his stomach feels weird. “That’s because you’re drunk,” you reiterate, to which Seokjin replies, eyes narrowed even though he can’t lift his head to properly glare at you, “No, I’m not.”

You click your tongue. “Where’d you go tonight, then?”

“The blood bank.”

“Which one?” you ask, because you may not know all the ins and outs of vampire bylaws and treatises, but you know all blood banks aren’t created equal. Seokjin had explained the hierarchy once. There are the bougie, all organic, free range blood banks not unlike the bougie, all organic, overpriced head of cabbage supermarkets in your world; then there are the dirt cheap blood banks, the ones that capitalize on desperation and skirt the law a bit too much to be harmless.

Judging from the look on Seokjin’s face, he hadn’t gone to the bougie one.

“Jin,” you say, trying to curb the reprimand in your tone. “You know that place isn’t safe.”

He slumps backwards again, dazedly staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “I know that.” He fists his hands in the fabric of his coat. “It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“Okay,” you say, because it’s not like you can say I know or I understand, because you don’t. Seokjin’s world is so far removed from your own, enmeshed only by force and a lack of other options. “I just… I worry about you, you know? I just want you to be safe, and that place isn’t safe.”

Seokjin scoffs. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

You level him with a stare even though his eyes aren’t open to see it. “I’m not talking about physically, you idiot. I mean, I do worry about you physically, but I worry more about you mentally and emotionally. You went through an incredibly traumatizing thing and you don’t talk about it.”

“Did you learn that in therapy?” he deadpans.

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “I did, as a matter of fact, and you can tell it’s working by the way I’m not the emotionally constipated one between us.”

“I’m not constipated.”

You sigh. “Okay, Jinnie. Just… promise me one thing, okay?” He grunts. “Don’t go back to that blood bank. They clearly took a donation from someone they shouldn’t have and now you’re all fucked up.”

“I’m fine,” he argues, just for the sake of arguing.

“You’re really not.”

“Yes I am, and I don’t have any money for the nicer blood banks. I’m all out.”

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine your fingers and squeeze. “Okay. Just tell me next time you need to go and we can figure it out.”

That seems to grab his attention. He snaps his eyes open and looks over at you, taking far too long to look focused. “I’m not taking your money.”

“Jin—”

“No, don’t Jin me. You’re already letting me stay here for free. Did you know that not having a safe place to live is the number one cause of death for rogue vampires? Because it is, and you’ve already spared me from certain death, so I’m not going to ask you for money on top of it just so I can go back to drinking my fancy aged blood.”

“Is there really nothing in between aged, organic B-positive and took a sketchy donation from someone rolling on E?”

“That’s a common misconception. The different blood types don’t really taste all that different.”

You groan. “Not the point. The point—”

“Don’t go to the bad place anymore,” Seokjin mumbles, sounding all too much like a scolded child.

“Correct.”

“Still doesn’t solve my money issue.”

A slow, smug grin overtakes your face. “Give me two days and I’ll have it solved.”

You truly are a genius, even if Seokjin won’t admit it.

See, you had the advantage of not being over two-hundred years old. You’re young and aware of trends, and that came in handy when you had a centuries-old vampire looking for employment in the modern age. Ridesharing had been out of the question, not because Seokjin had cracked that horrible joke eons ago and didn’t want to go back on it, but because he'd forgotten to renew his license. Getting an overnight job—either stocking shelves at the supermarket or working at the convenience store or whatever—had been out of the question, too, due to Seokjin not wanting his beautiful face to go to waste.

“Become a Twitch streamer, then,” you’d said.

Which had been a mistake, because instead of outright refusing and moving on, Seokjin had suckered you into explaining what Twitch was for thirty minutes. Add another thirty minutes of explaining what a streamer was and it’d nearly taken up your entire evening.

“I’ve never played a video game in my entire life,” Seokjin had said, but he hadn’t looked dissuaded.

You’d shrugged. “Some people are into that. It makes for a good shtick.”

Seokjin had paused, then; stared into the distance as if it could tell him all the secrets of the universe. “Do you really think people would watch me be bad at playing video games?”

“Trust me,” you’d replied, taking his face between your hands and squishing his cheeks a little, “humans not only watch way worse things, they pay for them, too.”

And now you’re here, a month and a half later.

You’d stolen (more like permanently borrowed without prior consent, because stolen is such a loaded word) some spare equipment from work. Got Seokjin set up in a corner of his now-bedroom. Ordered those LED light strips all the other streamers have and told him to milk his horrible sense of humor for all it was worth, and boom, his channel had blown up far quicker than you or he had anticipated.

Now he has a steady viewership and a reliable income and his own Discord server. Sure, the start had been a bit rough. Seokjin really had never played video games before, so trying to find something good for streaming was difficult. He didn’t have the coordination for MapleStory, Stardew Valley was too boring, he lost ten subscribers when he tried streaming Pokémon. You’d casually suggested he start streaming horror games. He was endearingly inept and easily startled—seemed like a no-brainer.

Once again, you were right.

So here he is, hogging the small bathroom as he applies his moisturizer, shooing you away each time you ask to take a shower because he has to look good on camera. Which is ridiculous, you think, because he’s actually incapable of looking bad.

“That’s ridiculous,” you huff. “You’re literally incapable of looking bad.”

Seokjin smiles all smug and pleased. “I know. But I’ll be done in a minute. My stream starts soon, anyway.”

With another huff, you stomp down the hall to melt into the couch until he’s done. There’s an episode of Bake-Off paused on the television that you resume, snorting at Seokjin’s squawking protests.

You hear the bathroom lights flick off, Seokjin’s footsteps on the wood floors, Xander tangling himself in his legs and sending him staggering into the wall. “Yah! Watch it, you horrible cretin!”

“Xander did nothing wrong,” you retort. “He’s innocent.”

Seokjin just rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated. “You’d let that cat get away with murder.”

“If it was yours? Absolutely.”

Later on, after you’ve showered and are tucked into bed, a warmth spreads through your chest as you hear Seokjin say to his stream, nothing but affection in his voice, “Can you believe my best friend’s cat tried to murder me today?”

Then there’s a strangled yell as he promptly gets killed in-game.

Hearing Seokjin call you his best friend has damn near catapulted you into a full-blown crisis.

His words have been playing on a loop all week. The warmth never dulls, never lets up; the words best friend always lodge themselves in some hard to reach space in your heart. Because they mean something. Because Seokjin’s not the type to say something just to say it. Because you always try to do right by him and for a long time you’ve wondered if you’re doing enough, if sometimes you try to do the right thing but make things worse and Seokjin’s too nice to say so.

Worse—you’ve been a little terrified that he only sticks around because he feels obligated. Like he has to pay back some invisible, unspoken debt.

It’s not like that. Maybe it’s cliche to say he’s more important than whatever it costs to house him here, but it’s true. Simply being able to lay in bed, cool breeze streaming in from a cracked window, and hear Seokjin’s squeaky laughter and muffled voice as he talks to his stream—it’s priceless. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

So, yeah—Seokjin calling you his best friend strikes you someplace deep.

You’re not sure what time it is when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Seokjin takes up almost all of the frame. Sometimes he has to duck when his hair is done and coiffed, and maybe it’s silly but it makes you feel safe.

“Hi,” you say, leaning over to flick on the lamp. At once the room is bathed in amber, shadows long and prominent in all the darkest parts, and it’s not until Seokjin’s silence registers that you look over at him.

He’s crying.

Two things happen before you even have a chance to breathe: you get tangled in the duvet and eat shit trying to scramble out of bed, and your hands are pressed to Seokjin’s cheeks, thumbing away the tears beneath his eyes. He heaves a sob and pulls you closer. Wraps those gangly arms around your shoulders and cries quietly into your neck.

It all makes you feel a bit hopeless, but you know Seokjin feels safe. You know you’re a safe place for him.

So you let him cry. Don’t ask what’s wrong, because you already know, have been waiting for it to hit out of the blue and all at once. There are only so many distractions. Even fewer that can bear the weight of a trauma like Seokjin’s.

Eventually the sobs turn to hiccups and quiet sniffles. His tone is watery as he apologizes for ruining your sleep shirt. You tell him it’s okay, and this time you don’t ask if you can press a kiss to his forehead, you just guide his head down so you can reach. His body sags in response.

“Do you wanna sleep in here?” you ask. There’s a large part of you that wants him to say yes, and a small one that refuses to consider what that means.

Seokjin says yes, regardless.

You tuck him into the empty side of the bed. Grab a glass of water from the kitchen and some aspirin, even if it won’t do anything, because Seokjin did a lot of crying and you know how that feels. He’s still awake when you return, just staring at the ceiling, so you sit on the edge of the bed next to him and just run your fingers through his hair. It’s blond now, and it suits him.

“Do you,” he starts to say, but his throat is dry and wrecked, voice hoarse.

“Sit up,” you instruct. Bring the glass to his lips. “Drink this.”

He clicks his tongue. “Bossy,” he jokes, but does as you say anyway. “Do you remember the night we met? I told you I was the third-youngest in my clan. We’d taken in two new guys.” You nod. Seokjin swallows hard. “They… they found my stream. Reached out.”

Your hand pauses in his hair. “Oh. What did they say?”

“They apologized.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “They—they said they’re the reason I got kicked out. That they’d fucked up the person at the club—“

“Me,” you conclude.

Seokjin nods. “Yeah, you. It was supposed to be someone else. We—it’s not, uh. Uncommon.”

It takes a second for the dots to connect. Then they do, and you choke on a laugh. “Like. As a kink?”

“Yeah. People pay a lot of money for it, and it’s not, like, illegal to bite someone consensually, so long as there’s proper documentation. And I’m really, really handsome, right, so people would pay a lot more money to get bitten by me, specifically.”

You snort. “So someone at the club that night had paid a lot of money to be bitten by you, the world’s most handsome vampire, and the two new guys in your clan… what, mistook me for someone else?”

“Apparently.”

“Then you tried to bite me, I was not biteable, and then you got kicked out of your clan?”

“That’s the long and short of it, yeah.”

You hum. “What happened to the woman who paid?”

“Taehyung bit her instead. He’s nowhere near as handsome as me, but he’s fine in a pinch.”

“Is he—“

“One of the new guys? Yeah. Jungkook is the other one. He’s the one who found me on Twitch.”

“I see.” You find his hand and press another kiss to the back of it. Interlock your fingers. “Are you okay?”

He sighs. Goes very quiet and very still before saying, in a voice so meek and unlike him, “They asked me to come back. Said they could probably pull some strings and get the clan to take me back.”

The thought of Seokjin leaving nearly steals the breath from your lungs. Has your stomach twisting in knots, limbs jittery with anxiety, and it’s all you can do to choke out a tiny little oh.

You’ve grown so used to having him in your space, in your life. The thought of no longer hearing his ridiculous laugh from across the hall, still audible even with your noise-canceling headphones on? The thought of cooking dinner alone again. The thought of no longer coming home from work to find Seokjin napping on the couch, Xander curled up on his chest. It’s all unfathomable. Has your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and you know Seokjin can hear it, know you’ll probably have to examine all these feelings soon, but—

“I said no.”

“What?”

“I said no,” he repeats. “I… I told them I’m happy here. That I’ve learned how to adjust and that I’m doing well.”

“Seokjin,” you say, voice hardened around the edges because it’s easier to pretend to be mad at him than it is to cry in relief. “Seokjin, why would you do that? They can give you so much more—“

“No,” he says, tone so firm and sure there’s no room to dispute it, “they can’t.”

Why can’t they? you want to ask. What can I possibly give you? But that’s… dumb. They’re questions you already know the answer to, especially when Seokjin’s looking at you like this: like you’re the only thing in his entire universe that matters. Like he’d trust you to lead him into war; trust you to keep him safe.

That’s what all of this is truly about, isn’t it? Trust.

Seokjin trusts you. Seokjin has allowed something solid and impenetrable to be formed between you, has helped create it. Now it’s time to trust him in turn—trust that he’s happy, safe, wants to stay here.

(Stay with you.)

So you don’t push it again. Don’t give voice to all your insecurities. You’d told Seokjin once that if you wanted him gone you’d ask him to leave. It’s the same for him.

“Do you want to see them?”

Seokjin hums. “I—maybe? It would be nice to see a familiar face, I guess.”

You can’t believe you’re about to ask this, but: “Would you… want to invite them over for dinner?” Seokjin gags. “Oh, shit, right—no dinner. Um. Would you like to invite them over to meet Xander and play video games and not eat human food?” you try again.

“Jungkookie eats human food. He’s a vile little creature.”

“Okay. What about Taehyung?”

“He’s like me.”

“Okay. Invite them.”

Seokjin sits up a little. Scrunches his eyebrows together as he stares up at you. “Are you sure?”

“Are they gonna try to eat me?”

“Doesn’t matter if they do,” Seokjin dismisses, “your neck is infamous now.”

Your jaw drops. “What does that mean.”

“It means you’re a bona fide local celebrity, darling. The only person in this city immune to a friendly chomp. After my unfortunate excommunication, you were the talk of the vampire world for weeks. The two chaos demons will probably ask for your autograph.”

Eyes narrow, you study Seokjin’s face. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.”

“I would never.”

“That’s a lie.”

Seokjin just grins.

By the time you finally meet Taehyung and Jungkook, Seokjin’s bedroom isn’t used for much more than streaming.

It happened gradually. A knock on your door frame once he was done with his stream, just to ask if you were awake. Sometimes you weren’t. Sometimes you were, and he’d make you a cup of tea and sit in the empty space on your bed and tell you all about the game he’d played and his viewers and all their funny comments and how many new subscribers he got. That turned into him crashing there, because Seokjin loved to talk and talked endlessly, and sometimes you’d look at the clock and it’d be nearing two a.m. and you’d have to hush him and tell him to go to sleep.

The mornings following would always be hell, but you’d always plop down at your work desk with a goofy smile on your face.

Sleeping alone had started feeling weird after that. It’d been one hell of an adjustment period, getting used to someone else in your bed, but Seokjin’s presence was calming—his weight at your back, far more hesitant to reach out and touch than you are, but sometimes you’d wake up to his fingers in your hair, gently detangling.

Then it was making room for socks and underwear next to yours. His products next to yours in your shower instead of the guest bathroom. His nice shirts hung up next to yours in the closet. His phone charger on the nightstand, plugged into the outlet behind the bed. Now it’s making both sides of the bed in the morning instead of just yours. It’s making sure your alarm is quiet so Seokjin’s able to sleep through it, even with his ridiculous hearing. It’s—

“Oh, what the fuck,” Taehyung says, jaw comically slack. “No wonder hyung doesn’t wanna leave—Jungkook-ah, come look at this! They’re practically fucking married.”

Jungkook seems to materialize beside him, his wide eyes growing even wider as he stifles a laugh. “This is peak marital bedroom.”

Seokjin’s next to you in the hallway, unable to sputter a response. If he could blush, you’re sure it’d go all the way to his toes. “Yah! We’re not—what do you two even know—c’mon, that’s-that’s not even—absurd.”

“It’s not even absurd?” Taehyung and Jungkook think this is riotously funny. “Well,” Taehyung concludes, turning to you, “at least hyung chose well. Imagine if he tried to bite someone who lived in a shithole. Totally wouldn’t have been worth the excommunication.”

Exasperated, Seokjin looks to you for guidance. You just shrug. “He has a point.”

Seokjin’s sputtering again, deflating in the face of betrayal. He throws his hands in the air and dramatically announces, “Aish! Tour’s over, you insolent brats!”

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Jungkook says, making his way down the hall, “we’ll do the self-guided one.”

“Good thing we didn’t pay for this,” Taehyung tacks on. “Two out of ten stars,” he continues, voice growing distant the further they go into Seokjin’s bedroom. “Great location, but the tour guide was a giant pissbaby. Totally unreceptive to comments about his marriage.” You think the last bit comes from the closet.

With a heavy sigh, Seokjin trails after them. Probably to make sure they don’t touch his streaming stuff, considering you’d permanently borrowed it without prior consent. Your boss still hasn’t noticed, so that’s a win, but it’s pretty nice. Not the kind of low-quality garbage you’d be able to afford replacing out of pocket if it all took an unfortunate tumble to the floor.

There’s some muffled yelling—probably also from the closet—before Jungkook pops into the hallway, scratching the back of his neck and looking sheepish. “Hyung sent me out here to help you cook.” He gnaws at his bottom lip. “I-I don’t, uh—cook often? I don’t cook often. So I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.” He looks down. “If that’s okay?”

God help you, you’re now endeared by two vampires. What an embarrassing lack of survival instinct. “Of course it’s okay.” You gesture for him to follow. “Does anyone in your clan cook?”

You hand over an apron. By the way Jungkook stares at it, you conclude the answer to your question is very obviously no. “Never mind,” you say. “Jin says you eat human food? Do you enjoy it?”

Jungkook nods, hair flopping wildly. “Yeah! I eat everything.” Instant horror. “I mean—! Not everything-everything—I don’t eat people! Or a-animals! Wait, I do eat animals, but not live ones! Not, like, housepets. Just the meat and stuff from the store—I’m not gonna eat your cat!”

Xander just blinks up at him. There’s that embarrassing lack of survival instinct again.

You laugh. Squeeze his shoulder. “Jungkook, relax, it’s okay. I didn’t think that at all.”

“Okay,” he says, but he doesn’t look convinced. He just looks sad, like he’s on the verge of tears. “I just—I feel bad for hyung. I’m trying to make a good impression so you’ll like us and invite us over again and we’ll get to see him all the time.” Then, in a small voice, he adds, “Like before.”

You wonder if he can hear the way your heart plummets to the ground. “Oh, you sweet thing.” Unlike Seokjin, you don’t ask Jungkook if you can hug him. You just do it, because he starts sniffling before you can even finish your sentence. “You and Taehyung are always welcome here, okay?” Jungkook nods into the crook of your neck. “As long as you don’t, like, break anything. Seokjin isn’t bringing in that much money yet.”

This gets a laugh out of him. A sweet sound; airy and carefree, even though he’s carrying so much guilt. “Hyung seems really happy here.”

An unbidden smile. “I hope he is.”

“Are you happy he’s here, too?”

Jungkook’s clearly looking for something in your expression when he pulls back. He’s already heard the way your heart rate spiked at his question, so you’re not sure what it is, but it’s easy to say, “Yes, I am,” because it’s the truth.

“Okay. That helps, I think.”

“Good. Now, what are your thoughts on carbonara?”

  Jungkook is a good sous chef.

He’s a quick learner, efficient at chopping things, and doesn’t mind doing the dishes because he “wants the experience.” After cooking alongside Seokjin for so long, it was second nature to hand out little jobs to do. Easy to make light conversation. Even though he’s a century older than you, Jungkook seems so young. Hasn’t lost that sense of childlike wonder. Still has all those stars in his eyes.

So you hand over a pair of gloves and let him do the dishes. You’re halfway down the hall when the sound of the faucet fades and gives way to hushed conversation.

“—it’s alright, Taehyung-ah, I’m not scolding you, it’s just—it’s touchy, okay? Even if that’s something she’d want, you know it’s different for us. You know the laws.”

“I know, hyung. I’m sorry. It was a stupid joke and I just got carried away.”

You should say something, you think. They probably know you’re here, just skulking in the dark, eavesdropping, their superhuman senses be damned.

Christ, you probably smell like pancetta.

“…Do you, though?”

Seokjin sighs. You’d know that sigh anywhere, considering how many times you’d heard it during his Buffy binge. “Yeah. I think I do, Taehyung-ah.”

“Are you gonna tell her?”

“How do you imagine that playing out? We haven’t even had The Talk yet.”

Someone gasps. “Oh, shit. You haven’t? Really? That’s a pretty important conversation to just skip over.”

“Yah, don’t give me that look! It’s complicated!”

“Okay, hyung, I’m sure it is. I just want you to be happy, you know? And, like, you’re clearly happy here, but maybe you could be even happier. I know there’s laws and rites and customs, but who gives a shit?”

Seokjin lets out a strangled yelp. “Yah! Are you actually trying to get me killed? First you get me excommunicated, now you want me to say ‘fuck ten millennia of vampiric customs’ for—“

“Don’t say ‘bullshit,’ hyung, because it’s not. Not if that’s what you want. Not if it’d make you happy.”

Another sigh. “When did you get so smart, huh?”

That night is the first time it’s awkward sleeping next to Seokjin.

Suddenly the drawer with the socks and underwear seems too big. The clothes aren’t hanging right in the closet. Seokjin’s phone keeps vibrating and skittering along the nightstand and the sound is grating. The breeze from the open window doesn’t feel nice, just makes your skin tacky from the humidity.

Or maybe it’s Seokjin that’s throwing everything off. Has barely said a full sentence since saying goodbye to the kids. Excused himself immediately to take a shower and stayed in there forever; that’s what it’d felt like, at least.

The long and short of it is this: you’d overheard a conversation you shouldn’t have. You know things Seokjin probably isn’t ready to say. Not to you, not right now. If you combine your two brain cells, the logical conclusion is that Seokjin quite possibly has very real feelings for you and might be in the midst of a crisis, and that’s a problem because—

The Talk.

Something you’ve managed to push to the back of your mind, even though your twenty-eighth birthday is coming up. You’ll age, grow older. Seokjin grows older, too, but not like you. No guarantees, but no expiration date, either. And that’s—tough. Really fucking scary to think about: you, with the lines in your skin showing your age, so many decades in the future; Seokjin, still looking the same.

How is that supposed to work?

Seokjin will stay by your side and watch you grow old until eventually there’s no more growing to do. He will stay by your side and maybe hold your hand as you depart this life and maybe set off for another. One where you won’t know him and his squeaky laugh and his warm comfort; one where he’s left behind.

It can’t be worth it. Despite what Taehyung had said, nothing can be worth that kind of grief. Because Seokjin is so good—he’s kind and fierce; wildly chaotic and unwaveringly stable. He deserves to be loved endlessly and eternally, and how will you ever be able to do that if you’ll always have time breathing down your neck?

“I can hear you thinking.”

You sigh. Squeeze your eyes shut because you can feel them start to water. There’s guilt and there’s injustice and there’s anger, because you want to be the person he chooses to be loved by. “I…” You take a deep breath. Hold it a few seconds. Compose yourself. “I overheard you talking to Taehyung.”

Seokjin swallows. “I figured.”

“I—I don’t know what any of it means,” you say, “but I think… I think maybe there are some things we should talk about.”

“Right, okay. The Talk.” He sounds resigned. “I’ve never had to have The Talk before. I probably won’t be very good at it.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself when you say, “How hard could it possibly be?”

Very, it turns out.

The two of you talk in circles until you’re nearly crying in frustration, because Seokjin just doesn’t hear you. Refuses to accept that loving you and eventually having to say goodbye is worse than the alternative. Refuses to accept that you’ll grow old and get wrinkles and look your age and he’ll always look beautiful, look like this, and how that might be okay now, when you’re still young, but what will it look like when you’re seventy and he still looks twenty-five? How will he still be able to look at you and see you as someone beautiful, desirable? What will the rest of the world see when they look at the two of you like that?

“You’re not listening to me,” you sob. Everything feels so overwhelming. So out of reach. “Seokjin, how could you—why would you ever want me? Why would you want something so impossible?”

Seokjin scoffs, wounded. “Impossible to who? To you? Because it’s not impossible to me.” Anger sounds so wrong on him. Makes your stomach twist. “In all that thinking you’ve done, did you stop to consider the alternative? That I keep going through this world alone, scared to get too close to anyone because I’ll always have to watch them die?”

“What does that mean?” You’re nearly shouting. Anger doesn’t sound good on you, either. Not when it’s directed at him. “Why would you be alone? You could be with someone like you.”

“Someone like me, huh? Who’s that? A freak? Some other cursed bastard who doesn’t want to be like this but can barely survive on their own?” He’s sobbing now, too, voice hoarse as he fists the duvet just to have something to hold onto. An anchor. “Who am I besides a fucking monster?”

You’re on him immediately, moving frantically to gather him in your arms. Seokjin only stops sobbing to dry-heave; only moves to give you enough space to thumb away the tears on his cheeks. He cries until he’s got nothing left besides tremors. He cries until you’re rocking him in your lap, your heart broken for this beautiful, kind man. He cries until his lips give way to apologies instead.

“Shh, you have nothing to apologize for.” You kiss his hair. It smells like blackberries. “You are so many things, Kim Seokjin, and not one of them is bad.”

He hiccups. “I just want to be normal.”

“You are. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“How can you say that?” he whispers. “I’m broken.”

You hum. Run your fingers softly up and down his arms, leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?”

“If it’s not ‘someone incredibly handsome’ I don’t want to hear it. My heart won’t be able to take that kind of pain right now, I’m too vulnerable.”

“Someone incredibly handsome was actually first on my list, so you’re in luck.” Seokjin snorts. “But I also see the strongest person I’ve ever met. Someone determined and stubborn. Someone who could’ve killed me to stay out of trouble but let me go, because it was the right thing to do. Someone who has experienced hardships I could never imagine but still remains soft and compassionate. Someone who has reached into my chest and grown roots there, because now that I’ve had you here, I don’t think I could ever possibly think about letting you go.”

You sigh. Feel your throat grow tight all over again. “And that’s—that’s what scares me, because how can I ask you to stay when we both know how it ends? It’ll be the rest of my life, but what will it be for you? Will it feel like a minute, an hour, a year? That’s what I meant, when I said someone like you—someone who doesn’t have to say goodbye.”

When he looks at you, Seokjin’s gaze is impossibly soft. He looks at you like you’re a little stupid, too, which he does a lot. “I already am someone who doesn’t have to say goodbye.”

He finds your hand, rubs his thumb over individual knuckles. “There are… ways. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, because we can always try and find it doesn’t work, just like anyone else would, so I don’t think I’m ready to have that specific conversation yet, but I just want you to know that. That there are options.”

Something dangerously close to hope blooms in your chest.

It’s easy, once you’re over that hurdle.

Once that particular elephant in the room has been addressed and shelved.

You’re not naive enough to think there aren’t many difficult discussions in your future, but you find it hard to care when Seokjin doesn’t shy away from you, can barely tear himself away from your side even for a second. He’s there to kiss you awake in the morning when you’re on the verge of running late for work. He’s there when you walk through the door after a hard day, another kiss pressed to your forehead. He’s there next to you in bed as soon as he finishes a stream, skin soft from the shower, and that feeling of security he brings with him warms you even when he can’t.

Seokjin insists on doing things properly. Like a real couple, he just barely stops himself from saying, and you don’t mention it and he doesn’t, either, but you’re proud of him for catching it, for stomping down that line of thinking. Because the two of you are a real couple. You do the cliche dinner-and-a-movie dates, even though Seokjin spends the entire time making fun of the characters. You go for walks along the river. Sometimes all he wants to do is spend hours walking around the city. Even though the sunlight gives him a headache, you still hold his hand and walk for as long as he wants to.

It’s easy.

Also easy is how he touches you, the feel of his lips on your skin. Fluid, like all the time he spent before knowing you was just practice. Fragile, the way he holds you like a delicate thing; like the entire world is in his hands, and he doesn’t have to be careful but it’s worth it to be so.

So much changes between the two of you, but there’s even more that doesn’t. Seokjin is still Seokjin. Still laughs too loud and carries around the weight of the world, but at night you can still hear him talk to his stream, tell them all about you. You can hear the way he shrieks with glee when he finally tells them you’re his girlfriend, that it’s official even though that word feels juvenile, and you smile to yourself in the dark.

It’s so, so easy to fall in love with him when you were already halfway there.

Much like he always is, Seokjin is honest first. Just presses himself to your back one night as you’re cooking dinner and whispers in your ear that he loves you. In your shock, the pan nearly goes clattering to the floor. Xander hisses, does the Scooby-Doo run out of the kitchen to escape the chaos, and Seokjin just laughs.

You’re scowling when you tell him you love him, too. He kisses it away.

“What’s this thing?”

You sigh, drop the bundle of hangers in your hand. Cleaning out your closet had sounded like a great and logical idea in theory. Seokjin was quickly outgrowing his allotted side, you hadn’t touched the back of it since you’d moved in so god only knew what was growing back there, and there wasn’t much else to do on a stormy Sunday afternoon.

The closet, however, had very quickly gotten the best of you.

Now you’re knee-deep in clothes you haven’t worn in years, hairline and and armpits sweaty, and so close to snapping that the line between you and a murder charge is paper thin. And poor Seokjin—he’s just trying to help, but he’s more curious than he is genuinely helpful. Keeps stopping every two minutes to inspect something and ask what it is, figure out how it works. First was the fart machine you’d gotten as a gag gift six Christmases ago. (Seokjin loved this, said he’d send it to Taehyung and Jungkook.) Then it was the box of butterfly hair clips your mother had saved and dumped on you as soon as you’d gotten your own place. (He loved them, too; claimed ownership of them and said he’d wear them during one of his streams.)

You look over to see what he’s holding this time and barely have enough time to grit out the words DO NOT PRESS THAT BUTTON before Seokjin presses the button and you’re temporarily blinded by a flash.

“Oh shit,” comes his brilliant response. Then, “What the fuck. Did it just spit something out at me?”

You try to blink the stars away. “It’s a Polaroid camera.”

“What’s that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” you answer tartly. Then you sigh, because it isn’t Seokjin’s fault that he is who he is and you feel guilty. “It’s basically an instant camera. The film is self-developing so you can take and print a picture just about immediately.”

Seokjin makes a little humming noise. “Where’d you get it?”

“My sister gave it to me.”

“An invention like this and she just gave it away?”

You snort. Walk over and gently take the camera from his hands. “Yeah, older siblings tend to do that,” you answer. Point the view finder at him until he’s centered in the frame. “They love to offload all their worthless junk onto you in the name of being charitable. Smile.”

Unfair, really, how effortlessly beautiful he is. It’s all you can do to look away from the picture once it’s developed, and Seokjin’s smiling in it, sure, but it pales in comparison to the smile that sits on his face once the photo of you becomes clear.

  Seokjin becomes obsessed with the camera.

Manages to use up all the old film without even leaving the apartment. He takes photos of you, of himself, of you and him together, of Xander, the plant in the kitchen that probably doesn’t get watered enough, his computer screen once he hits a subscriber milestone, the view of the city from the living room windows during another storm. He leaves them around the apartment for you to find—a little game of hide and seek that only the two of you are in on.

And they don’t sell that old film anymore, so he uses his own money to buy a new Instax. Then he finds an old camera shop way off the beaten path and spends even more money there, but while he’s out he loads up on film and spends hours taking pictures in the city. Comes home and dumps them out of his pockets like he’d looted a bank, and you try to keep a straight face, you really do, but he’s so goddamn endearing that you can’t help the fond smile. They’re all dated and labeled, little messages drawn in limited space.

This tiny dog took a massive shit at the park and the owner didn’t even clean it up!

Doesn’t this cloud look like that ugly green guy from that movie you made me watch? Shark

Pretty flower! Reminded me of you ♡

This cat hissed at me! Reminded me of Xander ♡

Maybe we can go to this cafe this weekend if the weather’s nice?

Then, one from a trip he must’ve taken to the beach, because there isn’t enough contrast to see the waves, but written clearly in the sand—

I LOVE YOU!!! Sand is itchy!

That one’s your favorite.

  Thing about Seokjin is—nothing stays innocent for very long.

He’s simultaneously adorably naive and the smartest person in any room he walks into. There’s this little act he does: says something blissfully ignorant, almost too ignorant to be true, and waits to see how long it takes you to realize he’s fucking with you. He loves it; it’s his favorite game. Always ends up with him laughing so hard he cries, that squawking laugh of his booming loud, and you know better but fall for it every time like a sucker.

So, really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise when he hands over a stack of Instax photos, does that mischievous little smile he does where he rolls his lips to keep from laughing. Just for a moment, all you look at is a set of wide shoulders disappearing through the door of his streaming room, then the shut door. Then, when you look down—

“Kim Seokjin!”

His maniacal laughter rings throughout the apartment.

Because Seokjin has just handed you a stack of dick pictures, and this is not an idea Seokjin would’ve had on his own. Taehyung or Jungkook or both are probably behind this, you think. Taehyung had stopped by not long ago, took one look at the Instax, and wiggled his eyebrows at you, so you should’ve known. Should’ve known that a trio of vampires that took money from people to bite them would be the types to take unsolicited pictures of their dicks.

(“I don’t do that!” Jungkook insists later on, cheeks flaming red.

Taehyung snorts. “You did that one time.”

“I did not—”

“You did,” Taehyung insists. “Remember? It was that one college girl who lied and totally suckered you by saying she was an anthropology major and was comparing dick sizes between humans and vampires and needed a picture of your dick for science.”

“That’s different,” Jungkook argues. “It’s not weird if it’s for science.”

Taehyung hums, seemingly buying into this argument. Then he takes another bite of the pop-tart he’d insisted on trying before he makes a face and spits it onto the table.)

As it turns out, handing your roommate-turned-immortal life partner a stack of dick Polaroids prompts a lot of discussions about sex.

You’re not an idiot. Of course you’d searched how vampires get erections without a blood supply, but the results had been less than helpful. They just do, is as much as you got. Imagine your surprise, then, when the dick in Seokjin’s pictures was very erect and very ready to go.

“How does this work?” you ask him.

Seokjin looks startled. “Uh… what do you mean?”

“This,” you say, pointing to the picture. God, you hate that it’s a good one. You’re not supposed to appreciate unsolicited dick pictures. “The dick.”

“Um. I—you see, when two people love each other very much—”

You squawk. “Not sex! I know how sex works!”

“Well how am I supposed to know that?” he squawks back, matching your volume with very little effort. “You just pointed at my dick and asked how it worked!”

Eyes narrowing, you retort, “I know how dicks work too, thank you very much, I mean how does yours work?”

“...The same as everyone else’s? Babe, I really don’t get what you’re asking me here.”

You huff. Shake your head a little to try and clear the brain fog. “What I mean is: most people with dicks are able to get erections because the blood goes down there. You don’t have blood, so where does the boner come from?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, shrugs his shoulders and looks at you like you’re kind of crazy. “It just happens. Appears like a mirage in the desert. Usually after I think about sex or boobs—”

You roll your eyes, falling back onto your bed with a huff. Seokjin’s on you in a second. Stares down at you with some dopey, loved-up look on his face, all traces of exasperation gone. The weight is a familiar comfort by now, an anchor, and no matter what, every single time: “Hey,” Seokjin whispers, mouth so close to your skin you can feel the words, “guess what?” You hum an acknowledgement, dip your hands beneath another oversized t-shirt to trace along his own skin, warmed only by your own.

You know what he’s going to say, but—“What?”—you play along anyway.

“I love you.”

“I know,” you tease. Seokjin huffs, something else you feel in the hollow of your neck, before he presses another kiss to your skin.

“Are you gonna say it back?”

You will, because you always do. Just one of those things that had been instinctual the first time: a brief realization, oh, I love him too, and then the words had come spilling out. No hesitation and no second-guessing, just a whispered truth and twin smiles once you got past the anger of your dinner almost tumbling to the floor. “I might.”

A groan, then all of Seokjin’s body weight collapses on top of you. “You’re insufferable,” he laments, a playful whine high in his throat, “it’s kind of killing my boner.”

“Wow. And they say romance is dead.”

“Well, technically I’m dead, too, so that makes sense.”

Seokjin can’t see you roll your eyes, but you do. Are you stalling? Undoubtedly. Are you stalling because your chest gets tight and you kind of forget how to breathe every time Seokjin tells you he loves you, or are you stalling because his boner is still very prominent and the two of you had decided to take it slow? Definitely both.

And it isn’t like you mind. One of the many upsides to being with Seokjin is that time is the one thing you’ll never want for. There will always be time, so you don’t mind sparing a bit of it until you’re both on the same page. Bless him, Seokjin had nearly looked green the first time he’d broached the topic: stuttered his way through an explanation on how it’d been decades since his last partner, his last real one because the ‘biting people for extra money’ stuff didn’t really count—that the last time he’d been with a human was back when he still was one, too, so he’s a little nervous, would you mind waiting, he just needs to do some… research, is all. Just so he doesn’t embarrass himself, he’d said, and you’d just nodded along and pressed your lips to his forehead and said of course, whatever you want, it’s all okay with me.

So you’re trying to be respectful.

You are being respectful, but it’s a little hard to think straight when his boner is pressed against your pelvis.

Still, you groan. “Can you not remind me that you’re an undead immortal being while your erect penis is touching me?”

Because he loves nothing more than antagonizing, Seokjin just presses harder against you. “Why?” he teases, shit-eating grin on his face. “Is it weird?”

You roll your eyes. “A little, yeah.”

“We could make it even more weird.” He waggles his eyebrows at this.

Usually you’d brush off a quip like that: just Seokjin being Seokjin, another way for him to tease you. But this, too, isn’t so easy to ignore when he’s hard and on top of you, gazing down at you the way he is, all heat and bad ideas. Like he’d happily devour you whole if you said the word, and the word is biting at the back of your teeth, right on the tip of your tongue. You want to. You want, have wanted for a long time, but—

“Seokjin,” you manage to choke out. A real feat, considering he’s rocking slow against you. So slow you probably wouldn’t notice if you weren’t hyper-aware of every single thing, every shift in movement. “You wanted to wait, remember?”

He just hums. Presses his lips back to your neck, easily finds that spot that drives you wild. “I’ve been studying,” he says. Has his voice always been that deep? No, you think, this is just horny delirium. A hormone-induced mirage, tempting you to the edge.

“Okay.” You try really hard to sound put-together. “I’m not really sure what that means.”

Seokjin huffs a laugh and you feel that, too. “It means I’ve been watching a lot of porn and jerking off for weeks while you’re at work, and most of the time I’m so fucking horny I can barely keep my dick in my pants.”

All of that sounds… really nice, although the thought of Seokjin touching himself, head thrown back in pleasure, that neck on full display, toes curled, does very little to help your self-control. Still, you manage to curb it, pulling back just enough to catch his gaze. “Are you ready, though? I don’t mind waiting. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

He pecks your nose. “I don’t. I’m ready, I trust you, we’ve already talked about all the important stuff, and if I jerk off one more time I think my dick is going to protest and fall off.”

When you look at him, there’s not a trace of hesitation to be found. It’s a little maddening how he can go from looking at you with such fervor right back to something like spun sugar. That’s how he’s looking at you now: with trust, with love, with excitement. And it’s ironic, you think, that he’s the hiemal one between you, because he always manages to fill you with warmth.

Just like the sun. You reflect everything he feels for you, all the devotion, and return it tenfold.

So there’s no hesitation in you, either, when you smile and say okay.

Much like he is any other time, Seokjin is an absolute hellion in bed.

You’ve been teased within an inch of your life, hands and tongue everywhere except where you need them most, and he’s completely impervious to your suffering. The corners of his mouth quirk upward before he resets them, relishing in your begging but not letting you catch on, and then he’s dragging you to the edge once more, pushing your hips back down to the bed with a hushed I know, baby, I know.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, almost mocking. “You’ve been so good for me,” he murmurs, and you try to pretend the praise doesn’t set you alight. It had taken a while to find his rhythm, but it must be like riding a bike, you think. Seokjin probably could’ve gone an entire millennia without doing this and it’d still be just as good. It pisses you off a little. “Are you ready?” You nod as best you can. “You have to use your words,” he goads, “I can’t read your mind.”

Maybe he can’t, but your answer is obvious enough: the way you’re writhing, the rapid beating of your heart, the heat between your thighs. If it feels this overwhelming to you, there’s no way Seokjin’s unaware. And you know he isn’t—know he’s only doing it to get a reaction, to drag it out further, so you just huff. Disengage. Seokjin can’t win if you don’t play, and maybe you reflect his sunlight, but you can reflect his chaos, too.

“Babe.” He laughs. Works a hand over his cock once, twice when he realizes you’re looking. “Don’t start getting petty now, of all times.”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, then,” you fire back. “You know I’m ready. Been ready for hours.”

He huffs. “It’s only been twenty minutes.”

You narrow your eyes. “Hours,” you repeat.

“Sheesh, okay, okay.” Just as he’s about to press inside, he pauses. Looks at you with that loved-up look again. Normally it’d be endearing, butter soft, but you’ve been at his mercy for far too long and it’d started taking its toll somewhere around minute two, so. “Hey, you know I—”

“Seokjin, I swear to fucking god—”

He huffs again, nothing but exasperation, and finally gives you what you want. The initial stretch takes your breath away, giving way to full full full, the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel, but then it’s—

“Jesus Christ!”

There’s just screeching. From you and Seokjin, because while you’re trying to scamper up the bed, he’s pulling out and wearing a full-on grimace. You can’t even lie, that hurts. You’ve had a lot of awkward one night stands, but no one has ever grimaced before.

“Hot!” Seokjin wails, grabbing at his crotch. “Holy fuck, hot! Hot! My fucking dick is on fire—”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull. “Hot?! Are you fucking joking? It feels like you just impaled me with an icicle!”

It does. There’s still a phantom pain in your cunt that feels a lot like frostbite. Like when someone sticks their cold hands up the back of your shirt.

Seokjin ignores you, though. Just puffs out his cheeks and blows room-temperature air towards his cock, and you’d maybe laugh if this was any other time in any other situation. Having this happen the first time the two of you have had sex is… mortifying. A little worrying for the future, too, because you’ve tried those warming lubes and they’re terrible. It’s also just—disappointing. You’d been looking forward to this for a long time, being close to Seokjin in this way, and of all the times you’d envisioned it, you didn’t imagine your body heat would be too scorching for his penis, of all things.

Shit.

You’re not going to cry.

Not over this.

Not while Seokjin is still hopping around the bedroom on one leg, still desperately puffing out air. Not while he’s chastising his cock in the process. Something that sounds suspiciously like c’mon buddy, it’s just a little body heat, don’t do this, you don’t have to do this, fuck, c’mon. Another thing you might laugh at another time, but you can’t. Not now. Not while Seokjin finally sighs in defeat and meets your eye and looks equally devastated.

Devastation looks worse on him than it feels on you, so you joke, “Maybe we should’ve started with oral?”

A beat of silence. Then the disappointment cracks and he’s sending you a blinding smile. “Something something Icarus, too close to the sun, et cetera.” He flops unceremoniously on the bed and drapes half his body over you. “Seems pretty obvious in retrospect, huh?”

Your fingers are immediately in his hair. “Yeah.” Lips find the top of his head. “We’ll figure it out.”

(And you do. Condoms are the first experiment, even though they were essentially useless before, considering Seokjin’s dead and all, unable to reproduce or harbor any kind of infection. Problem with that is—

“Why are they all so fucking thin?” Seokjin whines, staring down at another box with CLOSEST THING TO WEARING NOTHING! across the front.

You snort, tossing back another box of the same. “Because most men don’t want to wear a condom and will gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss their way into going raw.”

So you try a different approach and order the super thick ones meant to help with premature ejaculation. Those are okay, but almost too effective. Sex with Seokjin is great, it turns out, but not when it seems to go on endlessly and everything starts to hurt and chafe and Seokjin’s trying, babe, you think I wouldn’t have come by now if I could, but, well. The condoms work as advertised, is the thing.

Back to Old Reliable, then: oral sex. Even having your mouth around his dick nearly sends him launching off the bed, but the two of you figure it out. Small kitten licks until he starts to acclimate, an inch or two at a time once the whole dick is in your mouth, and slow, slow, slow. Truthfully, it’s a long and tedious process, and it all but kills the idea of wild, spontaneous fucking, but the actual sex part, when you finally figure it out, is so goddamn good you figure you can go without.)

“Does your family know about me?”

Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t asked sooner considering your birthday is just around the corner. You aren’t doing much to celebrate, considering it’s in the middle of the week, but it hadn’t stopped your mother and sister from offering to take you to lunch on the weekend. Seokjin hadn’t said much when you told him about it, complaining for the nth time about the seafood restaurant your mom’s insisting on just because it’s her favorite, but you can see now why this might’ve been on his mind.

“Yeah, of course they do.”

Also unsurprisingly, he seems shocked to hear this. “What?”

“Why wouldn’t they know about you?”

“Um. Because I’m… y’know. A vampire.”

You roll your lips, suppressing a laugh. “Are you calling my family racist?”

“No! I am definitely not saying that!” he sputters, suddenly finding the new rug very interesting. Xander had barfed all over the last one in a way that was completely unsalvageable. “I just—I was just wondering? Since it’s your birthday soon, and you’re going to lunch with them, and I didn’t know, like, if they knew about me? Like, I’m sure they know you have a roommate, but do I have to pretend to not be your boyfriend if they come over? Like, if we’re just roommates, should I come out screaming about losing all my socks in the dryer or leaving dishes in the sink or something—”

“Is that what you think roommates fight about?”

This puts an abrupt end to his spiral. “Er, yeah? That’s what they fight about on TV.”

“Okay, remind me to change the Netflix password. Now, will you come here?” You stand from your spot on the couch and engulf him in a hug. “They know about you. All of it, so you don’t need to worry about it, all right?” You pull back. “Unless you’re worried about something else?”

“No,” he answers, voice small.

“Okay. My sister dated an absolute demon in college, so you being a vampire is nothing in comparison, trust me.”

“Demons aren’t real.”

“They are, and my sister has somehow dated all of them. My mom actually contacted the church about an exorcism.” This gets a laugh out of him. “Now, do you want to come to lunch with someone who consorts with demons and someone who puts any modicum of trust in the Catholic church, or is that a hard pass for you?”

He nuzzles further into your neck. “Are they nice?”

“They’re okay.”

“Are they like you?”

“I’m definitely the hotter sister, despite whatever my sister may think, and I have to text my mother every month to remind her to pay her car insurance because she forgot and let it expire twice and got tickets both times, so I’m not sure what that says about her, but they did raise me, so. I don’t know, I guess so?”

“Then they’re probably nice and I think I’d probably like to meet them.”

Your heart feels warm again.

On the morning of your birthday lunch, you wake up alone.

This is uncommon but not outright strange, so you think nothing of it. If you had Seokjin’s ultrasonic hearing, you would’ve heard the three vampires giggling in the kitchen, trying desperately to hush one another every ten seconds because they’re incapable of shutting up, but you don’t, so you trudge into the en suite to pee and brush your teeth, ignore the mess of hair on your head, and then trudge into the kitchen.

“Surprise!” Jungkook screams, popping out from behind the island. Taehyung’s at the sink, clearly trying to hide the remains of some science project gone wrong, and Seokjin’s slumped against the counter with his head in his hands.

Still, there’s a half-assed birthday cake being presented to you, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! written in Seokjin’s recognizable scrawl, and a smile rapidly forming. “You made this yourselves?” you ask, more to make conversation than genuine curiosity. No bakery on earth would sell something that looks like the cake in front of you.

“Of course we did,” Taehyung says, snark loaded and ready, “what do you take us for, amateurs?”

Jungkook ignores him. “Seokjin-hyung says you turned twenty-eight and that’s a big deal so we wanted to do something nice!”

“Well, that’s a straight up lie,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes. “We wanted to get you a cake but we have no idea how to order things at human bakeries and the lady behind the counter was mean as fuck so hyung looked up how to make one from scratch.”

“It was awful,” Seokjin moans, agony muted by the countertop. “Don’t ever ask me to bake something again.”

“No one asked you to do anything,” Jungkook snaps. “This was your idea! You were the one who texted us and said, and I quote, ‘My idiotic little dongsaengs, I want to do something special for her because I’m in love, so I’m going to look up how to bake a cake from scratch and the two of you are going to help me, and if you say no I will hack into the blood bank database and change your blood preference to O-negative,’ to which Taehyung replied, and I quote, ‘Don’t you dare sign me up for that basic bitch blood, hyung, that’s just cruel,’ to which I replied, and I quote, ‘Hyung only just learned how to use a smartphone, there’s no way,’ to which you replied, and I quote, ‘Here is the recipe, be at my apartment by six a.m. or else.’”

“Wow, his memory is freakishly good and kind of weird,” Taehyung marvels. Jungkook preens.

“Well,” you begin, going around the kitchen to give each of them a tight hug, “I’ve never gotten a homemade cake before, so I am very appreciative and a little overwhelmed.”

When you reach Seokjin, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you. You’re the best and I love you.”

“Gross,” Taehyung and Jungkook say in unison.

Hours later, long after you’ve tried to figure out how to tackle the cake and how long it could conceivably stay fresh for compared to how much of it you could conceivably eat, and long after Jungkook offers to ‘demolish it right now’ and you make a Matilda reference and have to explain the entire plot to him just to explain who Bruce is, there’s a knock at your door that can only be your mom and sister.

You’re not dressed. You’re not even showered.

There are three chaotic vampires in your kitchen arguing over what to do with the cake.

This is not how you wanted Seokjin’s first time meeting your family to go.

But it works out all the same, just as it always does. The introductions are awkward only because of the state of the kitchen, but between Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, your mom and sister are charmed long before you pass your phone around to order food, because there’s no way any of you are going out now.

Another thing that’s easy. Another moment in which you find yourself thankful that Seokjin has nothing but time, because you think you’d be very happy to spend most of yours like this: surrounded by the people you love, ears ringing from laughter. Another memory in a span of months that’s jam-packed with new ones. Another slice of cake gone when your sister bravely volunteers to try one. Another sly look at her from Taehyung, because he’s been doing it all afternoon and doesn’t realize he’s not subtle.

Another round of hugs. Another birthday gone. Another mess to clean up once it’s just you and Seokjin left in the apartment, Jungkook halfway out the door when he calls out over his shoulder, “Taehyungie-hyung says he’s gonna bite the wrong person too and get kicked out of the clan so he can hook up with your sister,” just because he’s a shithead. Another punch to his shoulder.

Another time you look at Seokjin and think, I’m so fucking in love with him, I’d follow him anywhere.

Another author’s note: I wanted to leave the ending a little open-ended. I’m sure people have thoughts on turning, and it wasn’t something that I wanted to write into this fic but wanted to broach the topic of because that’s, like, The Thing about vampire/human relationships. My headcanon is that this reader does, just because I want them to live happily ever after forever, but I didn’t want to force that on everyone and dampen the reading experience.

As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#btsgoldnet #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #thebtswritersclub #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fic #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #ksj x reader

[sugaurora]

Dream Come True (Teaser??)

Uhhhh....COMING Soon?

Since your brother warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to fantasize about him in the safety your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re definitely not about to complain.

Pairing: Med Student Seokjin x Plus Size Female Reader

Genre: Brother’s Best Friend; Friends to Lovers; Smut

#seokjin smut #ksj fic #teaser #fic teaser #dream come true #sdkjhskfh #the cackling is unreal #it's such a silly little fic pls don't get too excited #i'm just having fun #writing

[gimmethatagustd]

repeat offense | ksj

The are only two constants in life: the promise of death and the infuriating existence of the man who ruined your life. Will your immortal punishments keep you in an infinite loop, or will you one day be able to rid the world of the evil that is Kim Seokjin?

» pairing: demon!seokjin x demon!reader (ft. angel!yoongi)

» genre: BTS | 18+ | friends to enemies | unrequited love | supernatural | (very light) smut | angst

» wc/date: 3.6k | november 2022

» warnings: demon possession | christian themes | blood | weapons | violence | murder | main character death (it's not what you think tho) | unprotected vaginal sex | betrayal! | i think this might be the one fic that does not have a happy ending 👀

» notes: PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS 💀 i hope y'all enjoy whatever the fuck this turned out to be lol. also rip to me posting this depressing ass fic on my fucking birthday. sorry to jin for my first fic of him being sad

» masterlist

» what was jai listening to? mind games - sickick

If it weren’t for your sixth sense, you would have never seen him coming. 

It wasn’t some cliche tingling that set off the alarm bells ringing in your ear; it was more of an increasing hum of energy vibrating through your body, like a bullet ricocheting inside your bones. But sensing him was only half the battle. Now you had to figure out who he was. And it was always changing. 

You brought your glass of bourbon to your lips and took a small sip, the ice clinking together. 

“Another?” The bartender with smiling eyes dried off his hands with the small towel he kept tucked into his apron pocket. He jutted his chin at your now-finished drink. 

“I’d like to close my tab, please.” 

Initially, your suspicions made you hone in on the bartender, but you quickly ruled him out after he returned your credit card and receipt. In blue ink was his name and phone number scribbled on the back of the paper.

You pocketed it, just in case. 

You had to admit, the body you were currently possessing was hot. It was a shame whoever originally owned it wasn’t able to take advantage of it now. Perhaps you would show the bartender everything this body was capable of later. But right now you were looking for someone else. 

Departing the bar counter, you made your way toward the back of the dimly-lit bar, as though you were heading to the restroom. At a fork in the hallway, you turned left instead of right, slipping through a service door. You stepped out into the dark alley behind the building, rain-soaked gravel and cigarette butts crunching beneath your boots.

The heat from the bar continued to warm your back and you didn’t hear the door click shut behind you. Before you had the chance to turn around, a slender hand wrapped around your bicep and yanked you backward. 

Even though the demon had a different body than the last time you’d seen him, you immediately recognized him for who he really was. That was the other power of your sixth sense; coming into contact with another demon would cause both of your eyes to momentarily bleed into all-black orbs before returning to normal once again. 

“Kim Seokjin,” you sneered a greeting at the man and pressed against his throat the small dagger you kept hidden in your boot. “So this is the body you picked?”

In any other circumstances, you would have found him gorgeous. His dark hair was swept to the side to reveal a strong forehead and serious eyes. His lips naturally fell into a plump pout, though his mouth was now twisted into a smirk. 

But you weren’t interested in entertaining a whistleblower, no matter how attractive.  

“Are you not impressed?”

When you were forced to possess a body, you didn’t have a say in who you got. You were immediately bound to whichever unfortunate soul happened to cross paths with you first; it was pure luck. Still, you got too much pleasure mocking Seokjin to care about the logistics of it all. 

“It’s better than last time. London, was it? It was a shame to see such an old woman’s soul go to waste because of you.” The tip of your dagger created a dent in Seokjin’s skin, but you weren’t applying enough pressure to draw blood. 

Yet. 

“Go to waste because of you,” Seokjin corrected. 

“Oh fuck off. Your sad song has fallen on deaf ears for centuries, Kim. It’s time you give up the act.” 

You felt a cool, blunt object press into your rib cage. Looking down, you were met with a handgun. 

Once you noticed the firearm, Seokjin leaned into you and caused your dagger to prick a small mark on his skin. A few droplets of blood slid down his throat, but it didn’t deter him from flashing a toothy grin in your face. 

“You’re fucking deranged,” you breathed. A gun was smart; why hadn’t you considered buying one the moment you’d spawned in this body? If you were lucky Seokjin would at least kill you quickly. 

He wouldn’t, though. You wanted each other to suffer and you both knew it. 

“You wish I was deranged.” Seokjin’s sing-songy voice dripped honey as he spoke. “It would mean the Prince of Darkness made a mistake in banishing you to the mortal world. He wouldn’t like to hear that you think he made a mistake, would he?” 

The glint in his eye said more than his words did. 

“You were the mistake,” you hissed, spitting at Seokjin’s feet. “I should have never trusted you.” 

“I should have never loved you.” 

He let out a growl and jabbed you in the ribs. The clash of metal against bone made you step backward and Seokjin was relieved from the point of your dagger. The tip was coated in a thin sheen of blood. 

Once upon a time, neither of you could bleed - back when your bodies were your own and the two of you sat on either side of the throne of Satan, the Prince of Darkness as you once fondly called him, as his most trusted advisors. Some days, in the summer months or whenever you lived in warm climates, you could remember the lick of eternal flames at your ankles as you roamed the castle you’d once called your home. 

The Prince was more so about aesthetics than about burning people alive, though you had just barely missed that fate yourself. 

You often wondered if being consumed by those flames would’ve been better than the torture you were bound to for eternity, or until the Prince of Darkness decided to destroy Earth completely. 

“If I remember correctly, you were the one begging me to help you find a way to Heaven,” Seokjin pushed forward. Now he had the gun pressed into your chest in full view of anyone who might step into the alleyway. It didn’t matter if anyone saw the two of you. Mortals couldn’t do anything worse to you than you could do to each other or yourselves. 

“And you agreed to help, didn’t you?”

Right now you were out of options. A dagger would never win against a gun, and running would only get you so far. 

“That would mean you were the mistake.” Seokjin must have seen the calculated look on your face because his sickeningly sweet smile grew as he backed you up against the building. “Trying to find a way out, love?” 

Seokjin ran the gun along your chest and up your neck, eventually stopping at your face. You took a shaky breath as you felt the cold metal of the muzzle graze your cheek, not realizing Seokjin was using the barrel to brush the hair from your face. 

“What’s the point in killing me, Seokjin? We waste our time chasing each other across the globe and for what reason? The result is always the same: we die, we respawn, we continue the cycle.” 

At one point, you’d believed there could be an end. That one day, death would be permanent; that one day, one of you would win. Perhaps you pathetically underestimated the Prince of Darkness’s cruelty towards traitors. He’d made it impossible for you and Seokjin to do anything but live a thousand lives and die a thousand deaths. 

What made it worse was knowing none of it would have ever happened if Seokjin hadn’t turned you in. The fact that he did so, knowing he too would be punished… It certainly spoke to the contempt he had for you. 

Seokjin leaned into you so close your knees bumped into each other. Your eyes flickered black just as his did and you realized with a lump in your throat that you couldn’t remember what the two of you had looked like in your own bodies before the Prince banished you to a mortal existence for your crimes. 

You wondered what the price of such a crime looked like in Heaven. 

“We must die eventually,” Seokjin whispered. “And I intend to be the reason why you do.” 

“Fuck you.” 

You jammed your knee as hard as you could in between Seokjin’s legs. He immediately doubled over in pain and you didn’t stop to watch him sink to the ground. 

Running away from Seokjin was running away from the inevitable, but you did it anyway. There was nowhere for you to go but away. 

Your boots slapped against the wet concrete as you bolted down the alley. The cool autumn air felt damp and thick in your lungs, sitting heavily on your chest. It was a discomfort you never felt before being banished to Earth. Hell was brittle and dry. Earth reminded you more of Heaven. 

The only time you’d gone to Heaven, you’d been shocked by the comfort of clouds. You remembered feeling the mist of condensation from the clouds melt the hardness of your skin and allow moisture to seep into the cracks lining your exposed skin. 

The force of Seokjin’s body colliding with yours propelled you forward faster than your legs could keep up. You heard your knee crack and the skin busted open, leaking blood over the loose chunk of concrete you’d fallen onto. Your blood turned the muddy puddle swirling in the pothole under your limbs a dirty maroon. The wound in your knee was overpowered by the sting of gravel digging into the butt of your palms and your shoulder as your arms collapsed beneath you.

Almost immediately Seokjin was fisting the back of your shirt, hauling you onto your feet with a hard yank. The fabric pulled too tightly around your throat. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” Seokjin hummed, his lips ghosting over your ear before you felt the cool metal of the gun against your temple. “Was your precious Yoongi worth it?” 

You waited for the click of the trigger as the sky opened up. The rain came down in blurry sheets that wobbled your vision and made the gun heavy in Seokjin’s hand. You could tell because you felt it slip down your temple, eventually landing on the apple of your cheek. 

Loving Yoongi had been worth enduring the most terrible of deaths, even at the hands of Seokjin - a man you’d once considered a dear friend.

Where you’d worn darkness like a silk cloak, Yoongi brought a light so blinding you swore his image was seared into your retinas. 

God’s radiance couldn’t have compared. 

“He still is.” 

The rain washed the blood from the gash in your knee and Seokjin planted a bullet in your brain. 

“That’s it, cum for me, angel.” 

Real angels didn’t have halos like humans liked to say they did, but Yoongi emanated a glow so brilliant he bathed you in a soft yellow hue as you fell apart on top of him. Swift, gentle fingers massaged your clit and coaxed a third orgasm out of you. His hand was warm as he squeezed your hip, holding you in place while you nearly crumpled inward with the force of his final thrust into you. 

Strands of white hair framed his head when he laid back down on the silky sheets. His forehead and cheeks practically glittered with perspiration in the warm glow from the intimacy you’d shared. 

There was nothing more beautiful, in this life or any beyond. 

Yoongi ran his fingers along your side profile. When they ticked your jawline, you ducked your head to escape the feeling. 

“Talk to me, angel.” 

Pain twisted in your stomach, but you swallowed it down. If only you were an angel. 

“I love you.” You whispered the sweet confession into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Even though you had defiled his innocence, you felt the purity of his soul radiate from his body. The feeling made you shiver when you curled into his side. 

Something dark and thick sat heavy in your chest. You’d felt it the moment you stepped foot in Heaven. It made you want to recoil from the angel, even as you so desperately clung to him. 

“I love you, too.” Yoongi intertwined his fingers with yours. He brought your hand to his lips and his touch pierced your skin like a hot iron. “I’d always thought angels weren’t capable of love.” His voice hummed in his throat against your cheek. 

You shifted your face to press a kiss against his smooth skin. He made a happy noise and you squeezed your eyes shut when the glow of his skin became too bright to bear. 

“Well, love outside of a love for God. Secular love,” he continued. “But I feel it with you. I know that it is love, even though it’s so different. It’s… it’s…” Yoongi cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “It feels special. It feels just for me.” 

You felt his lips against your forehead, but you kept your eyes closed, content with watching colors dance along your eyelids. 

“You’re changing me,” you whispered against his jaw with your head tilted up. 

“Hmm?” 

“Inside. It’s lighter.” 

Yoongi tightened his grip around your waist.

This was when your memory became blurry. No matter how many restless hours you spent replaying the moment over and over in your head deep into the night, you couldn’t remember how you went from cuddling in your lover's arms to testifying in the High Court. Even the trial was less of a memory and more like slivers of moments that flashed across your mind’s eye. 

The heaviness of the chains the Archangels draped over your body as you stood in front of a jury and audience of angel onlookers excited to see a demon in the flesh. A whore of a demon, nonetheless. A whore who had defiled the holiest of spaces and led one of their own into sin. 

Seokjin with the same heavenly chains restraining his body, but carrying a look of triumph on his face. 

Yoongi with his wings clipped. 

An angel could never commit themselves to anything or anyone other than God, and especially not to a lowly, evil, disgusting demon. 

You wished your brain would let you forget the broken look of dread on Yoongi’s face as the Archangels dragged you and Seokjin out of the courtroom. 

You’d never seen him without his heavenly glow before. 

And you'd never see him again, at all.

With a gasp, you flung your head and smacked the back of it into the headrest of the seat you were in. Your fingers squeezed around the car's steering wheel and you jerked on the wheel hard to avoid slamming into the car in front of you. The car you cut off in the next lane laid down on their horn, but you focused your attention on seeing through the watery image of the street you were on. 

It was jarring every time you respawned into a new body, no matter how many times it happened before. Getting your bearings was difficult enough in itself. Add operating heavy machinery in a torrential downpour and it was downright dangerous. 

A purse sat in the passenger seat. At a stoplight, you frantically sifted through the contents. Lipstick, a pocket mirror, a lone tampon - until your fingers brushed against something cool and glass. 

Finding a phone was usually the best first step when respawning. Everyone kept everything on their phones, and with facial recognition, you didn’t even have to guess a passcode anymore. Scrolling through the phone’s contents, you located the maps app and put in the saved location, “Home” - wherever that would take you. All you knew was that you needed to get as far away from Seokjin as possible. 

You were tired. Tired of searching, of fighting, even of running, though you knew running was now your only option. What were you supposed to do? Give up? Endure the pain of him killing you over and over again, in hopes that one day it would work? 

No fucking way. 

You pulled up to a modest suburban house with a white picket fence and evidence of children from the chalk drawings that covered the sidewalk and driveway. An unwelcomed thought tugged at you as you climbed the stairs to the front door, housekeys shaking in your hand. 

In another life, this is what you and Yoongi could have had. 

“Oh, honey. You’re home early?” A man’s voice called out from the living room. He poked his head into the hallway to see you standing in the entranceway. Your clothes clung to you with cold rainwater. “Honey, you’re soaked!” 

Something about the way he called you honey made your skin crawl. Only one person was allowed to call you such names. And he certainly wasn’t this man, with messy hair and a too-pink face. Nothing about him glowed. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” Speaking for the first time in a new body was odd, to say the least. You never knew what you would sound like and your voice always felt like it was coming from somewhere behind you like you were hearing someone else speak while you moved your lips along to their sounds. Your limbs were clumsy when you stomped up the stairs. You didn’t know where the bathroom was, obviously, but you assumed there would be one on each floor. You silently prayed that the man - who you assumed was your husband - wouldn’t follow you up. 

Not that God would listen. 

But your husband didn’t protest or follow and that was a small victory you would accept. 

Free to roam, you checked every door until you found the bedroom. A small desk sat in the corner of the large room, a laptop sitting on top. You quickly sat down and pressed the spacebar. To your luck, the laptop was already logged into and unlocked. Having done this a million times by this point, you scrolled through the phone you’d found. People usually kept their passwords in the notes on their phones, particularly if they were middle-aged, which is what you assumed your body was. No one ever aged in Hell; it was weird to feel creaky and fatigued. 

Finding what you needed was easy, just like it was easy to buy a plane ticket to a country on the other side of the world (under your husband’s airline membership because you might as well get him the mileage points while you kidnapped his wife). Luckily, your host was rich. The ticket didn’t put a dent in their bank account, leaving you with plenty of money to live off of until you died again or the credit card got canceled. 

A tiny part of you felt terrible dragging a suitcase down the stairs and hauling it into the taxi out front while your husband frantically begged you not to leave. It was never worth it to come up with an excuse; making up fake reasons like divorce or imaginary business trips only caused more pain, in your opinion. No, it was better to stay silent, even though it pushed a sharp pain into your heart no matter how many times you had to break up families and friends. Silence prevented a fight. 

So you kept your mouth shut from the moment you left the house until you were forced to interact with the airport employees. At least your host had a valid passport, you told yourself as you waited at the gate for your plane. It was important to acknowledge the small victories, you reminded yourself. Maybe one sliver of a silver lining was that living in host bodies allowed you to do things you’d never done before, to go places you’ve never been, and to have no real sense of responsibility aside from staying alive. 

By the time the plane arrived, you were exhausted. Respawning took a toll on your body as your host’s soul often attempted to fight against you, to push through your oppressive presence inside their heads, inside their bodies. It was useless, but they didn’t know that. 

You couldn’t blame them. It felt unnatural being in their bodies for you, too. 

For now, a weight was lifted off your shoulders as you sank into your seat on the plane. The close quarters of the plane felt comforting; it was tight and uniform. No spontaneity. No surprises. It was the same every time: ticketing, security, waiting at the gate, waiting in line, finding your seat. You would fall asleep or listen to music or watch the clouds float in the atmosphere unrestrained like you longed to be. 

As the remaining passengers slowly trickled in, you hoped the seat next to you would stay empty, though it always seemed like that never happened. 

With a sigh, you leaned your elbow on the arm of your seat and gazed out at the airport employees loading everyone’s baggage. You didn’t look away until you felt that hum of energy that made your teeth clatter and fear to splinter your bones. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.” 

Seokjin buckled himself into the seat next to you and leaned against your shoulder. His lips just barely breathed warm air against the side of your face, but it was enough to make your skin shiver. 

Just then the flight attendant announced an update regarding the plane’s estimated time of arrival. Ten hours. A ten-hour flight with Kim Seokjin at your elbow, a sickly sweet smile blooming across his face as you know yours twisted in dread. 

“It’s cute you thought you could run, love.” He ran his fingers along your jawline. “Adorable.” 

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