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jooniperbonsai · 4 months

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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”.

#bts smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin #bts fanfic #ksj #ksj x reader #ksj smut #ksj fic

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gimmethatagustd · 4 months

Note

hey just wondering if u have any reader insert poly sort of works ?

hi bestie ✨

i usually don't read poly fics because having more than 1 love interest stresses me out LOL so i only have a small number of recs for you. the one by harrow is very specifically about a poly relationship, whereas the others are more like "threesomes that could become more (?)" fics.

and possess your heart is on permanent hiatus, but still worth the read because B's writing is lovely! EDIT: B IS BRINGING IT BACK !!

posses your heart (ot7) by @chans-room

camgirl AU, this one is yandere so pls check the warnings~

the one with the hall pass (kth, pjm) by @eoieopda

you and your boyfriend have everything important in common — especially your taste in men.

outro: tear (rap line) by @theharrowing

Your relationship with three amazing men felt like a dream come true until insecurity and failed communication caused everything to slowly fall apart.

[ REC. ] (jjk, ksj) by @yoonjinkooked

After being the creative director for HoL for a little while, Jungkook gets a crazy idea of how to combine business & pleasure. His love of cinematography may just be what the HoL needs. Luckily, he finds a very willing worker and an eager customer to experiment with.

two in one (pjm, jhs) by @here2bbtstrash

you finally have a much-needed smoke session with your best friends, just like old times. you’re also pretty sure they’re gay… right?

catharsis (pjm, jjk) by @junghelioseok

no matter what kind of release you need, he’s there.

just sit pretty (jjk, myg) by @lavienjin

jungkook’s hands are wandering all over your body while yoongi is asleep on your couch. can you fulfill your desires without waking him up?

and this fic i haven't read yet but i need to !!!!!

she, by proxy (kth, myg) by @ugh-yoongi

the one where yoongi gets what yoongi wants, even when what he wants is taehyung. especially when it's taehyung.

and then shameless plug,

needy (jjk, myg) by yours truly

Jungkook refuses to admit that he has feelings for you, but he's slowly cracking under the pressure. Will his bright idea of asking his friend to seduce you be the final thing that helps him get over his interest in you?

#poly rec #jai's recs #jai asks #anonymous

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yoongsisbae · 1 year

Text

Meet Cute, Time Loop | KSJ

A story where Seokjin loves you before you love him before he loves you.

Fantasy AU. Seokjin x time traveler!reader

First of all, I never read the book The Time Traveler’s Wife. Okay, I did watch the movie with Rachel McAdams when I was a kid. And I started writing this before the HBO series, and got annoyed once I found out about it because I felt people would be like oh, you copied it, so I just stopped writing this story lol. But then with Seokjin’s enlistment news and now his b-day, I wanted to finish it for him ;_; So here you go, a story that is kind of sort of like Time Traveler’s Wife meets The Girl Who Leapt Through Time fueled by angst of not wanting him to leave :’D Enjoy!

Warnings: smut, age gap...in so many different ways...it's very complicated :’D, teacher/student, mention of unaliving, bigdick!seokjin because duh, oral sex, fingering, rough sex, praise kink

Word Count: 10.6k

---

Your first meeting with Seokjin wasn’t memorable. It was short and sweet, at a café on your college campus. He paid for your coffee. The coffee shop on campus was always busy, a long line at every hour and your card was embarrassingly not working in the card reader. You knew you were a broke college kid, but you definitely had enough for at least a coffee! You fumbled with your wallet offering the cashier your apologies when a man behind you stepped up to the counter and offered to pay, ordering a drink for himself as well. Embarrassed, you quickly tried to stop him, but he gave you a kind smile that stopped you in your tracks and he told you not to worry.

He was a professor, you were a student.

And he was already in love with you.

You find a quiet corner in the library to finish homework for your upcoming class, always the procrastinator. Looking up from your notes, you see the same stunning man again, now taking a seat across from you. The library was massive but somehow he went to this floor, this section, this corner, and decided to finish his class lecture notes at the same table as you.

You try not to be distracted every time he pushes his glasses up with a cute wrist flick, coughing and turning the page to one of his books. You stifle a laugh and continue going over your notes. But when you look up again, you notice he’s watching you. Suddenly self conscious from the attention, you smile back, jittery and timid. This man is perfectly put together and you look like you just rolled out of bed. Probably because you did, because for some reason, you had thought it was a good idea to schedule a morning class (it is always a bad idea). Hence, the coffee.

You meet him again that day.

You were hurrying to class, books in your hand, still sorting through notes when you stepped off the sidewalk. People around you were still moving, you thought you had time.

You weren’t paying attention.

Strong hands grip your shoulder and pull you back onto the sidewalk as a car horn signals, a bus zooming by you as you fall back into a warm body.

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean t-to – I wasn’t – I’m Sorry!”

“Whoa there, you’re okay, you’re okay.” Seokjin holds you steady until you stop shaking. Until you realize he’s the same man who paid for your coffee, who kept distracting you from your homework with his good looks, who doesn’t look familiar but feels familiar.

“Hey,” he smiles.

---

Seokjin’s first meeting with you happened when he was four years old. You were old – not your oldest – but older than you are now.

The first time you slipped through the cracks of time, you had really fallen.

You were on stage, amongst actors and directors and people infinitely more famous and important than you. But you were with them, having written the screenplay for the movie premiering that night. You were on a high stage, in the back, applauding everyone’s achievements. How it happened, no one knew, even with the hundreds of cameras, videos at every angle pointing at the stage at that moment...

You felt a tug, or perhaps a push; someone bumping into you or a fissure in the floor or you stumbling over your long dress or all three. It all happened so fast, it all culminating in one chaotic moment in time that left you falling.

Falling.

You fell head-over-heels, you slipped right over the stage barrier behind you.

You fell...

You fell into the sand, your silver sequined dress sparkling under the sunlight. Did you just die?

You can’t remember hitting the ground, your arm caught the edge and you held onto the stage for only seconds, it happened so quickly no one could get to you before the ledge slipped between your fingers. You were unprepared, unable to hold your body weight, and then your stomach lurched up and you felt the world slow down.

Life didn’t flash before your eyes like people said it would, not at all. All you could think about was, no, not yet, no! You didn’t want to die, not when your life was just starting, when your career was just becoming something! You wanted to live, you wanted to find love, you wanted-

“Help!”

Do people need help in heaven?

Oh no…

But you’re pretty sure you aren’t in hell either. What is this place?

A...beach?! You take one deep breath, standing up when you hear the call for help again.

You run towards the yelling, your heels digging into the sand and slowing you down with each step. There’s a young child crying, “My little brother!”

You see a child even younger struggling in the water, and then you don’t see him at all.

So without any other thought or question, you just act, running towards the ocean. You pull your body through the waves, moving quickly, diving underwater over and over again until you find him. You pull the drowning little boy from under the water, holding him close and patting his back.

He’s crying, that’s good, that means he can breathe, that he’s okay for now. If you hadn’t been there he surely would have drowned.

You swim towards the shore, cradling him close. Pulling your body out of the waves, your dress heavy with sea water, you put him down next to his brother, pushing the wet hair out of his eyes. “You’re okay now, you’re okay.” you whisper, trying to calm him down. He looks up at you awe-like.

‘What a sweet little boy with big innocent eyes,’ you think. “Where are your parents?” You ask his brother.

“B-Back at the house,” he cries.

You smiled at the cute pair, sighing in relief, and then before you could do anything else, you felt a pull...

Starting right under your belly button, a pull so strong it felt like a punch to your stomach, knocking the wind out of you, and your body started falling backwards.

You fell backwards into the crowd below, right into Seokjin’s arms.

He was invited by one of the actors at the premiere, his long time friend. With his looks he could fit right in with the celebrities, but he didn’t like big crowds and chose to stay in the back. Right in the exact spot where you needed him. When everyone looked on in horror, when others scattered, he looked up and saw you and knew what he had to do.

You try to catch your breath, gasping. Suddenly thrown back into the chaos of the premiere, flashing lights only amplifying your dizziness and confusion. You look down at the arms around you, and up into your savior’s face. “S-Seokjin?!”

Your dress was soaked, your hair was wet, your body was still shaking as he held you close. You both laid on the red carpet and the sight was too incredible for photographers not to turn and aim their cameras right at the pair of you.

“Y/n,” he smiles softly. Then, stands up quickly, carrying you in his arms as staff rush to conceal the spectacle, and you felt swept off your feet for a second time that night.

---

When Seokjin first saw you, he thought you were an angel. Your shiny sequined dress was sparkling in the sunlight, blinding him. Your soft voice telling him he would be okay sounded ethereal to his water clogged ears, the sight of you on the beach was something he never forgot even at his young age.

His parents later found him alone on the beach. His brother ran to them and told them what happened, but they never found you. They believed their children made up the story, a consequence of their overactive imaginations, but couldn’t deny the signs of Seokjin’s condition, immediately taking him to the hospital and finding out there was some truth to their tall tale.

The second time Seokjin met you he was six. He was older and you were older. Much older, a small gray streak apparent in the front of your hair. He almost didn’t recognize you, but your voice was the same, soft and kind, and your eyes were the same, caring and beautiful.

Six year old Seokjin still thought you were an angel deep down, someone sent to come save him, even if his older brother stopped believing and told him to quiet any time Seokjin brought it up.

And his feelings only solidified because the second time he met you you had grabbed his tiny hand and pulled him back onto the sidewalk. He watched as his ball was flattened by a car. It could have been him, he stood stunned. You were slower, your limbs weaker, but you saved him.

You felt it was your time to leave again. “Y/n, my name is y/n.”

“Don’t leave me,” he cried and clung to your dress.

You smooth down his hair, tutting. You sigh, heart hurting because you knew he was going to be upset with you later. “We’ll find each other again, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

The next time Seokjin crossed paths with you, you were the same age as when he first met you, same shiny dress, a jacket now over your shoulders, looking around confused and lost.

He called out your name, waving you over enthusiastically.

You hesitantly went over to the over-zealous boy. “I’m – um – w-what’s going on?!”

“You’re here to save me again,” he smirks proudly.

“I-I am?”

“Yeah, I think so. Every time I meet you, you save me.” Young Seokjin was definitely convinced you were his guardian angel.

“I-I think I am going crazy. Am I going crazy?” You fall to the ground at the boy’s feet, exhausted, dizzy, definitely delirious.

He yanks on your arm, wanting you to move, whining for you to get up. Why does he look so familiar? If you hadn’t just been in his arms you would have never made the connection… This boy could be Seokjin’s son, they look so identical, too identical. “S-Seokjin?”

“You do know me!”

“This can’t be happening. No no no no.” You look at the young boy, mind reeling. This has to be a dream. You must have fainted. The last thing you remember, Seokjin was with you, and-

You put your head in your hands, willing yourself to wake up.

You feel small hands pull at your shoulder. “Get uuup! Let’s go!”

“W-What?”

“My mom will be worried if I don’t go home. I’m not supposed to stay out late,” he whines.

You let the boy pull you along, hunched over and confused. Everything looked different, older, different clothes, different cars. You try not to hyperventilate.

He stops in front of his house, creaking open the door and looking around for his mom. “Go to the back, I’ll meet you there!” he says, pushing you to the side.

This is a bad idea. But you have nobody else and you’re ninety percent certain you’re dreaming. So you hide in the bushes in Seokjin’s back yard, dumbfounded, waiting to wake up.

“Here, I brought you some food. D-Do angels eat food?” He pulls a meat bun and a half-eaten kimbap from under his shirt.

“Eh?”

You looked really lost, maybe you hit your head coming back to him this time, Seokjin wonders. Little hands cover your forehead, checking your temperature and you flinch.

“I-I’m sorry, I just don’t understand what’s happening to me...” You begin to cry.

Seokjin winces, “Wait here!” and a few moments later he comes back with his older brother, “See, told you.”

“Whoa.”

“Now do you believe me?” Seokjin says accusingly, crossing his arms.

“Do you, um, remember us?” Seokjin’s brother asks, looking at you with a mixture of awe and worry. You look at him bewilderedly, tears still falling steadily from your eyes. “Do you remember when you saved my brother?”

You look between the pair, staring up at their big innocent eyes. Wait…wait. What?!

“You saved my life,” Seokjin says proudly, but then he recoils, noticing your bewilderment. “D-Don’t you remember? Y/n?”

“Y-You know my name,” you whisper.

“You told me, the last time you saved me,” Seokjin states.

You pull on Seokjin’s jacket, covering yourself. “You’re talking about the beach, right?” you mutter. Of course, this was all a dream, it was all merging together now, you think.

Seokjin smiles wide, nodding, ecstatic you do remember him.

“Should we tell mom?” Seokjin’s brother asks.

“No!” “No!” you and Seokjin say at the same time. “I will leave,” you say. “I’ll go…somewhere…” You mutter, hoping you wake up soon.

“No, you can’t! You’re-” Seokjin pauses. “You’re supposed to be my guardian angel.”

You swallow hard, deliberating on what to do, the young boy looks like he is going to cry at any moment. Well, since this is a dream, then you guess you should be acting the part. “Oh, o-okay.”

“D-Do angels sleep?”

You laugh, sighing. That’s what you’re doing right now, you want to tell him.

Seokjin shakes you awake. “I have to go to school. You’re coming aren’t you?”

You groan, sleeping outside in your dreams seemed to hurt even more than you would have imagined. Even with the blanket and pillow Seokjin gave you, you barely slept, replaying the last twenty-four hours over and over in your head.

“C’mon! You’re supposed to be my guardian angel, how are you supposed to guard me here?” He says, dejected.

You sigh. “O-Okay.”

You hug your shoulders, pulling Seokjin’s jacket closer to you. The hem of your dress is tied up, your feet are hurting in your heels. Young Seokjin tells you everything about his life so far. His friends found a cat and were taking turns to feed it. He had a tuna can in his tiny hand. He told you about his friends and his older brother, his mom and father. He talked about his teacher, who was so boring he couldn’t concentrate in class. He got in trouble for napping, he explained. You listened to the troubles of a child, barely concentrating, your own thoughts too jumbled in your mind. Seokjin talked and talked until a small orange stray cat leaped into your path.

You watched as he opened and set the can down on the sidewalk. The cat pounced on the food, hungrily eating the entirety of the tuna can. You smile as Seokjin pets his fluffy coat, cooing. You pulled off your heels, rubbing your feet. “You’re a good kid.”

Young Seokjin laughs, a sense of pride washing over him. He can’t wait to show you off to his friends. He hears something fall to the ground, your shoe, and when he looks up again, you’re gone.

---

The next time Seokjin met you, you appeared in his room. He couldn’t help but laugh. You were in a silk robe, looking lost and confused again. Falling into his tiny bed, he looks over his shoulder.

“Hey angel.” Seokjin looked exactly how you remembered him, only his features were less rugged from old age, instead young and soft.

“Seokjin?” You look into his red eyes, puffy from crying.

There was an unopened bottle of alcohol on his night stand, next to a bottle of…white pills?

“W-What’s going on?”

“Well, I guess, you’ve come to tell me not to kill myself,” he says with a weak smile.

Your eyes begin to sting as tears start pooling in the corners, looking at the offending contents on his nightstand again to make sure indeed nothing had yet been opened. Your voice shakes as you ask him, “W-Why?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I’ve tried, I tried so hard,” he whimpers, pulling his pillow closer and curling into himself. “I keep disappointing everyone. My mom...” he stifles a sob.

When were you? You look around frantically, studying his tiny dorm room. College, Seokjin is in college now. You fall to your knees at his bedside, your heart aching for him.

You hold his hand in yours, “You don’t disappoint her, you never have. You can’t do this. I won’t let you-”

Seokjin sits up, yanking his hand away. “Where have you been?” Seokjin’s voice breaks. “You never came back! Even when I needed you. I was all alone…”

When Seokjin was a kid he would wait for you. Walk slowly to and from school. Every day, he would hope his angel would appear. And then when you didn’t, he still held hope. He waited for you, every other day, and then once a week, until he stopped waiting all together, but even still, he thought about his angel every day.

As a teenager he thought he must have made you up, an imaginary friend for a lonely child…

But he had your shoe.

The older he got, the angrier he became. Crayon drawings of you in angel wings turned into resentful memories. By then you were just a faint memory, a woeful thought, and a fantasy when he was really lonely.

Seokjin went through life a little less hopeful then. He went to tutoring and classes and sports and singing lessons, all to please his parents, who wanted nothing but the best for the child they almost lost. His superstitious mother believed he was destined for great things.

But all those great things never happened. He had the looks, but the girls he grew up with didn’t really like him for who he was, they didn’t laugh at his jokes or like doing the mundane things he liked to do. They would parade him in front of their friends to show off and he felt used, misunderstood, broken hearted more times than he could count.

He had the intellect, but he lacked the motivation, he would become too distracted with games or get lost in his imagination, and assignments would pile up and then he would feel overwhelmed, crippled by all his duties.

He had the build to become a top athlete, but he would too often hurt himself, his aching joints and broken bones stopped him from ever reaching any professional status. No matter what he did, he felt like a failure. And in this low moments, he thought, maybe then he would find some guidance, some help. But it never came, you never came to him.

Seokjin had what it took to become great, everyone told him so, but in his mind he just wasn’t. Their expectations were all becoming too much to live up to. He felt overshadowed by even his own brother. He felt his confidence dwindle, his hope growing smaller and smaller, it was like an endless loop he couldn’t free himself from. He couldn’t save himself.

He needed you.

He was in his last year of university and he hated his classes, he didn’t know if he was going to graduate. He didn’t know what he was going to do with his life. So he thought, might as well end it.

“You’re going to leave again, like you always do. So leave! Leave me alone, just let me die,” he cries, pushing you away.

“Oh, Seokjin,” you wrap your arms around him, refusing to let him go. Hugging him close, you cry in each other’s arms.

He still smells exactly the same, moves the same, has the same nervous ticks, after all these years. Your sweet husband Seokjin.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there when you needed me, I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “But you’re not going to die today. You’re going to live a wonderful life, you’re going to be happy, you won’t be alone. I won’t let you be alone anymore. Trust me, believe me.”

“How do you know that?” Seokjin asks desperately. He holds your head in his hands, studying your features under the low light in his dorm. “Y-You…look different.”

You laugh softly, blinking away your remaining tears. “I hope not that different.”

He holds your cheeks, thumb caressing your skin. “You’re not wearing that dress…” He looks over the thin material of your robe, the low cut of it, showing off your cleavage. You feel so real and human in his hold, so warm, so familiar.

Growing up, in his child-like wonder and imagination, Seokjin remembered you almost goddess-like. Something untouchable, reverent, but now that you’re here with him again as a young adult, you felt so small and vulnerable next to him, raw and real. He found you beautiful in your vulnerability.

“I’ve never seen you like this before. If you’re not an angel then what are you?” You stay quiet against him. “Why do you keep finding me? ”

“I don’t know if it’s the right time to explain this to you.”

Seokjin chuckles, “I was going to kill myself tonight. I think now is the best time to explain things.” You wince hearing his confession. “Please, I…I’ve waited so long to see you again.”

You feel splintered by his words. You wish you had control of this, you wish you could have gone to see him earlier and told him not to wait. Seokjin was waiting for the wrong version of you.

Waiting only drew it out, the inevitability, it was torturous to wait. Moments with Seokjin were going to always happen and would always have been. The way time worked around you, it wasn’t time that was changing, forward and backward for you moved in the same direction. That was never going to change, only you and Seokjin changed.

“I can’t control what is happening to me,” you sigh, leaning your forehead on his. “I don’t know why this is happening…to us. I’m sorry, when we meet again, I won’t remember you, because I haven’t met you yet.”

“But you-”

You shake your head no. “You’ve already met me, but I haven’t met you. Seokjin, how old are you right now?”

Seokjin continues to caress your face, mesmerized. Seokjin can’t bring himself to let go of you, not when you’re here after all these years. After a decade of convincing himself you weren’t real, only to be so tangible now, so close he can smell you, with the same beautiful eyes he almost had forgotten.

You look at him so full of care as always, except now, as he stared into your eyes, face to face, your gaze held something that reached inside of him, that burned into his soul. The adoring way you looked at him made his weak dejected self feel strong again.

When your eyes looked across his features, down his body, he felt something surge inside of him, feelings he had always held close to his heart. You were an idolization to him growing up, but here you were, a mere woman staring at him like he was your world instead.

And suddenly Seokjin thought he might have the answer he was looking for, looking down at your hands resting in your lap, a gold band around on your ring finger, and a gem that sent him back to his childhood, looking through his mother’s things. He thought back to the grayness in your hair and back to your lost younger looking self. But the answer in his head sounded so unbelievable he had to hear you say it.

“I’m turning twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three,” you repeat, nodding, working the math out in your head, “Right now I would be…eighteen. But I’m thirty-three. And when I go back to where I came from, back to you, you’ll be thirty-eight.”

“And…the next time I see you again, you’ll be?” he asks, putting the pieces of your lives together.

You smile, “Twenty-two. I meet you when I’m twenty-two. You saved my life,” you smile wider, “and bought me coffee.”

“I save you?” he asks, eyes widening.

“And bought me coffee. Don’t forget,” you giggle. “Seokjin, I’m sorry it’s not going to get easier. I’m going to be much more difficult to convince,” you sigh. “But trust me, you still have so much more to live for.”

“Y/n, are w-we together…in the future?”

One look at you and Seokjin knew the answer even in your silence.

So he wasted no more time.

Seokjin kissed you, immediately, fervently, with love and passion not even yet experienced by him, but he felt it already inside him anyways, as if his love could travel across time even when you couldn’t.

You broke his kiss, “It’s not time yet to-” you whisper, trying to give this version of him space, he wasn’t yours to kiss yet.

“But we are together, in the future, aren’t we? You’re my wife,” he glances down at the gold band on your finger, reaching in for another kiss.

“We’re not married right now,” you push against his chest when he closes the small distance between you again.

“But you’re still my wife,” he grunts, lips against the side of your jaw.

“Not yet, Seokjin,” you close your eyes, thinking of your husband as Seokjin’s eager hands caress your body.

“I love you.”

“We haven’t even met yet! Not really. We haven’t dated-”

“I love you, I know I love you.”

You exhale defeatedly. “I love you too, but not this version of you, you’re still a baby-”

“But I-I’m me!” Seokjin laughs incredulously. “And I'm a man,” he says, offended.

You sigh, not knowing how to explain to him the intricacies of your relationship. “How would you feel knowing your wife was kissing a different version of you?”

“I would be totally okay with it,” Seokjin says stubbornly, head buried in your neck.

“Seokjin I’m older than you-”

“Is that supposed to matter to me?” He holds you tightly, afraid you’ll disappear from his life and he’d have to wait four more years before he could hold you like this again. No, you weren’t going to leave him until he proved to you how much he loved you, how he always loved you.

He kisses you again, pulling you into his bed. He refuses to listen to your excuses, he loves you and you love him and that’s enough for him. He traces the contours of your face down to your jaw, admiring every inch of you, enjoying your rapidly increasing breathes and the affect he has on you.

He moves his hand over your heart, on top of your breast. “Have you-” you put your hand over his. “-had sex before?” you ask.

“Yes,” Seokjin says indignantly, ears going red.

You giggle, “Good, don’t stop once I leave. You have four years before we find each other again, promise you won’t wait for me anymore? Enjoy your life, we’ll have our time, so don’t worry anymore, Seokjin.”

Seokjin swallows, not wanting to agree with you. “Alright. If tonight…you’ll be with me.” You hold his cheek. Stubborn man, ‘like always,’ you think, smiling. You answer him with a kiss.

Seokjin could feel your breasts, only covered by the sheer fabric of your robe, pressed up against him. He shuddered in your embrace, lips moving down your neck, across your chest, pressing his face into your cleavage.

What are you supposed to do when a younger version of your husband was timidly fondling your body, starved for love and affection? Up until now, you had always been the more submissive one in your relationship. Your husband has always been doting in his affection, but this level of tenderness, sweet infatuation with you was so unfamiliar, yet so your Seokjin.

You run your hands in his hair, holding him to your chest as he pulls your robe down lower.

“You didn’t tell me about this day,” you gasp, chest heaving as his mouth covers your breast, tongue rolling over your nipple and sucking.

‘Good,’ Seokjin thinks about his older self, vowing to keep his silence on the matter until the day he dies. If this is the result, he wants nothing to change it. He unties your robe delicately, like opening a present he’s waited his entire life for.

Seokjin pulls his shirt over his head hastily, wanting to feel your skin on his, needing you closer. You kiss him slowly, opening your mouth wider for him as he fumbles with his buckle.

His cock is painfully erect, knocking against his stomach when he finally frees himself, all the blood rushing down in his excitement, Seokjin can barely think straight with you under him, your legs spread open and naked.

You help guide him in, licking his chest, tongue rolling over his nipple, already knowing all the things he likes. Seokjin shudders, groaning in pleasure as he sinks into your heat, lost in bliss. He thrusts into your sex quick and rough. This version of Seokjin is impatient, needy...uncoordinated…

You don’t mind.

You throw your head back, encouraging him on, moaning his name. Seokjin thrusts in deep, he certainly had the stamina of a twenty-two year old, and the clumsiness. You pull him down by the neck, licking into his mouth until his pace slows, unable to concentrate on anything else. He kneads your breast, rutting into you.

You break away for much needed air, fixing the loose strands of Seokjin’s hair and tucking them behind his ear. Kissing his cheek, you whisper into his ear, “My turn.” You cant your hips up, ordering him to switch positions.

“Oh f-fuck,” Seokjin moans at the way you pull yourself up slowly and drop down hard and fast, rotating your hips. This was nothing like the sex he had with young inexperienced college girls. “Oh god.”

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, as he thrusts up into your inviting heat. You grab his hands, holding them above his head instead, slowing your rhythm as he hisses, thigh muscles tightening as he concentrates on the pleasure he’s receiving.

He looks devastatingly handsome, his hair longer than you remember, shaggy and sticking to his forehead, leaner body writhing under you as his head tilts back, showing off his strong jaw and long neck. You moan, knowing he’s close, you’ve seen all these same jerks and spasms during many and many nights together. You tighten around his thick length, fingers touching his plump lips and pressing down into his open mouth.

“Fuck, fuck-ungh-I’m g-gonna-”

You pull yourself up one last time before gripping his length. Moving yourself down his body, you cover his cock with your mouth, licking up his shaft.

Seokjin pants, wound up so tightly, unable to hold it in any longer. His fingers tangle themselves into your hair, pushing you all the way down the length of his cock and then pulling you off, holding you still.

He burns the image in his brain, your kiss-bitten lips, eyes darkened with lust, mouth open for him, spurts of his cum dripping down your cheeks, fuck, he’s glad he’s still alive…

“I love you. Every time. Every where,” you whisper, looking at Seokjin sleeping against you, his handsome features softened in his slumber. Seokjin snores, waking up with a drowsy hum.

“Seokjin, what’s your major?” you yawn into his chest.

“Business and Finance,” he murmurs, half-asleep, holding you lightly in his embrace.

You snort softly, moving the hair out of his eyes. “Get a degree in teaching and become a professor’s aid here. It will help pay for the extra classes you’ll need.”

“Teaching?”

You nod. “You’ll love teaching, trust me,” you smile.

“My mother won’t like that,” Seokjin frowns.

“That’s not true, also, you’re not going to be a professor forever,” you grin.

“What am I going to do?” Seokjin asks curiously. You shake your head, “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Please, don’t worry yourself this much again,” you say more seriously, glancing over at the things on his nightstand one last time. “Promise me?”

His fingers tighten around yours reassuringly and he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “I won’t. The hardest part was not knowing…now the hard part is over,” Seokjin smiles rolling over to his side and pulling you in closer.

You were afraid for Seokjin the hardest part was just beginning.

When Seokjin woke up the next morning you were gone.

And you woke up in his arms again. His lips automatically find yours, waking up with a drowsy hum, your husband Seokjin kisses you deeply.

“You didn’t tell me-”

“It was a secret I was going to take the grave,” he murmurs, half-asleep, holding you lightly in his embrace.

You nibble on his neck, pressing yourself closer, needy for him; the version of him that knows all your turn ons and how to drive you wild with pleasure, that can skillfully bring you to ecstasy over and over, who you love more than anyone in the world. Every where. Every time. You call out his name in a whiny moan.

Oh, Seokjin’s glad he’s still alive.

---

What…What happened?

You feel like a freight train ran over and flattened you. Warm hands trail across your jawline, forcing your eyes open.

“S-Seokjin?” you wince, sitting up. Where were you? You and Seokjin were tucked away in the theater’s breakroom, hidden away from cameras and curious premiere-goers. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited. The second lead, um, Kim Taehyung, invited me, it was supposed to be a surprise…” he laughs awkwardly. “Your dress…” he smiles softly, wiping the sand off.

You grab his wrist, stopping him from touching you any further, already hot in the face from where he brushed the sand off your lap. “M-My head-”

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay-”

“What h-happened?” you ask in disbelief. You were just on a beach, weren’t you?

“You need to calm down-”

“I was – I fell and I-I don’t know – there was a b-beach?!” You feel like the world is spinning, about to pass out again. You fall against Seokjin, failing to stand up.

You look around. This isn’t real. Everything feels weird and off. You were just on a beach! You feel the salt itch your skin still, your hair is still damp. This isn’t possible. This isn’t real.

“So you didn’t even know…”

You shiver, hugging your body, realizing you had his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. You wince, lifting your head up from his chest. “I need to go…I need to-” you spot an open door leading to a bathroom and you push yourself up.

“Wait!”

You push him away, stumbling into the bathroom and shutting the door. But before you can lock it-

Seokjin chases after you. He opens the door and you’re already gone.

---

This is the third time this weird professor has rushed to your side once you reached the barista’s counter and paid for your drink. You finally snap at him when he takes a seat across from you again. He was stalking you! It was impossible this was a coincidence, instead of sitting at your usual spot on the third floor, you took the elevator to the fifth, finding the furthest open spot you could find, tucked away behind bookshelves.

“Did you want something?!” you yell, being shushed by others.

“Huh? No?”

You glare at him, hot in the face. “You’re following me.”

He adjusts his glasses nervously. “No? I’m not-”

“You are! You are,” you say quieter. “I can pay for my own coffee, you don’t have to keep doing that. Thank you, but just s-stop!”

“I’m sorry!” he whispers. “I...I wanted to ask you the first time I f– met you, but I…chickened out. I think you’re really beautiful and I really wanted to get to know you more and…will you go on a date with me?”

“Eh?”

“A date,” he says a matter-of-factly.

“I…” Is he really asking you out on a date? “I don’t date professors.”

Even if he’s devastatingly handsome, quite possibly the most breathtaking man you’ve ever encountered, the feelings you felt when your eyes locked felt stronger than mere attraction. Emotions you weren’t used to strummed across the strings of your heart. Whenever you looked at Seokjin, the tug you felt pulling at the pit of your stomach felt too strong to ignore and it frightened you. It...weirded you out!

“Then I’ll quit,” he mutters something softly to himself you don’t quite catch, something about not planning on teaching forever.

“Are you on drugs?”

“N-No!” he pauses, recollecting himself. “Please, y/n, let me take you out, just one date.”

You stand up, letting the chair scrape loudly within the quiet study space as it’s pushed back. “H-How do you know my name?!”

“Your name? I, um, I, uh, I saw it on your coffee cup! The first day we…um, met.”

He’s obviously lying. You close your binder, gathering your homework. “Stay away from me,” you hiss, making sure to whisper as to not bother those around you.

“Wait!” he grabs you by the arm, pulling you back to him. “Please.”

You swallow, frozen by his intense pleading gaze. “Let me go or I’ll scream,” you whisper.

His hand cups your cheek. You look down at his wrist, the warmth of his fingers spreading over your skin, Why does he touch you like that? Why does it bring up these feelings you’ve never felt before? What is happening?!

You pull away, walking quickly, no, it definitely looked like running as Seokjin watched you flee. He stops himself from running after you, frowning. His approach was definitely not working. He runs a hand through his hair, cracking his neck, wondering how the hell your relationship could possibly progress to anything close to a marriage when you looked like you wanted to jump out of your skin anytime Seokjin came close to you.

‘It’s okay,’ he tells himself. Seokjin has you in his life now, your “meetings” would be on his terms now.

He was a successful drama professor, many of his students went on to work in movies and television. Instead of letting his worries consume him, he found himself learning how to live in the moment, because after all, he wasn’t the one who had the ability to change the past...and the future, even if he wasn’t so sure there was a flexibility to that either, he looked forward to it. So despite your retreating figure, he smiled.

“Can you please stop following me?!” You hold your books close to your chest after bumping into Seokjin in front of his next class.

“I’m not,” Seokjin defensively, readjusting his briefcase, red in the face, “We just keep running into each other-”

“You expect me to believe that when I’ve been on this campus for two years and now suddenly y-you’re everywhere I go. L-Like you are just…appearing out of thin air!”

Seokjin looks down, chuckling. “Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something?”

You pause. “The universe doesn’t care about us that much,” you mutter, turning away.

Seokjin pulls you back. Seokjin blinks, watching you as you keep your eyes low, unable to meet his own out of shyness. “Instead of a date, let's just…go out as friends?”

“Friends?”

Seokjin nods. “Yeah, if we keep running into each other like this, at least it won’t be so awkward anymore.”

You slowly nod, agreeing.

---

Seokjin waits until he hears a thump in the bathroom, something falling onto the floor. He pushes the door open wider, finding your shaking figure on the floor.

“H-How is this possible?” It was supposed to be a dream. You look down at your bare foot. If it wasn’t a dream, then that means…

You look up at Seokjin, now older, but with the same innocent eyes...

“I don’t know, but I’m happy I was able to save you again. You saved me so many times I just stopped questioning it,” Seokjin smiles, bending down and reaching for you.

You look down to his arm, his hand on your cheek. You don’t know how to react, overwhelmed. “Y-You knew about this the whole time?”

“I tried to tell you sooner, I didn’t know how…” he looks down at your sequined dress, unable to keep his emotions from resurfacing.

“Seokjin…I’m scared,” you feel tears well up in your eyes too, horrified at what could happen to you now.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he reassures you, hugging you. “I don’t think it happens very often. You find me six more times before now.”

“You? I go to you again?” you ask anxiously. Seokjin nods, “Why?”

Seokjin laughs softly. “You save my life.”

“Like the beach?” you murmur.

Seokjin nods, not wanting to tell you the whole truth. “Yeah, like the beach.” He fixes the collar of his coat around you, “My guardian angel.” He sends you a timid half grin, so cute you couldn’t help but laugh, drying your tears on his coat sleeve.

The premiere actually went really well after the initial chaos. You and Seokjin found seats in the back of the movie theater. Pretending something life changing didn’t just happen to you, you sat through the movie, trying to enjoy the product of your hard work. You skipped the after party, in favor of burgers and a milkshake, not wanting to deal with any more craziness. Big parties like that were never your thing anyways.

“I need a shower,” you scratch your head, taking a big bite of your burger.

You and Seokjin found a seat on top a pier, listening to the waves. He eats his fries. “My hotel is only a couple blocks from here, we can go there if you want.”

“Thank you,” you fix his hair, blown out of place by the wind.

You sigh. Seokjin was always sweet to you, helped you more times than you could count in college. And now that you knew the reason why, you feel uneasy. “You know, you don’t have to do this anymore, feel like you owe me something because I saved your life.”

“Hey, I saved you a couple times too, didn’t I?” he teases.

“Yeah,” you laugh. You still felt guilty. Seokjin was your best friend. You can’t believe you became best friends with the child you saved.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, thinking of the start to your odd friendship. “You were trying to tell me when we first met, right? I was horrible to you back then, I’m sorry,” you pout.

“Yeah,” Seokjin lies. “Why were you so mean to me back then?” he bumps your shoulder with his.

You bite your lip, looking at the dark rolling waves. Throughout the movie you couldn’t pay attention, thinking back on everything you experienced, replaying the moments you and Seokjin had gone through. Once you warmed up to him, it was easier to push those initial feelings away. Seokjin was your good friend, a mentor, if it weren’t for him, you’re not too sure you would have made it to where you were now, an accomplished writer.

Seokjin was handsome, kind, sweet, funny. He was the perfect man. You didn’t deserve him. Deep down you knew that, and you didn’t want to lose him. Seokjin asked you out a couple times after your first meeting, and you always refused him, because you knew you loved him too much to risk a relationship. Growing up your relationships never worked out, you were always left heartbroken. If you were to date him, it would be too devastating to lose him.

“Well, you did follow me around like a creepy stalker,” you joke, trying to avoid the truth.

Seokjin scoffs, sipping on his milkshake.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “Being around you scared me-”

“What?!” Seokjin yells.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that! I think maybe, I felt something, like maybe deep down I knew something was different about you. It scared me,” you sigh. “The feelings…” you look up at his wide eyes, “N-Not feelings! I mean…emotions? I don’t know what I mean,” you laugh awkwardly, drinking your milkshake.

Seokjin stays silent and looks away, finishing his burger.

“Y/n, will you go on a date with me?”

“If this is about me saving your life-”

Seokjin scoffs, smirking, “It’s about me loving you since the first time I saw you.”

“Seokjin…” He can’t mean that, he can’t.

What do you even say to something like that? By saving his life did you end up ruining it? He was just an impressionable boy, but even after years of knowing him in his adulthood, Seokjin still honestly believes that?

“Just one date,” Seokjin swallows, determined “and I’ll never ask you again.”

“Just one date,” you whisper, barely able to use your voice, unease washing over you.

Seokjin smiles wide, undoing his tie, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

Finally.

---

Seokjin texts you he’s on his way.

Oh god, oh god oh god oh god.

You fix your hair for the hundredth time tonight.

This was a horrible, horrible idea. Everything about this was weird. You shouldn’t be doing this. You check your clock. Is there time to back out?

You were afraid there was no way to stop this without Seokjin hating you, he’s been so patient up until this point, never becoming angry with you when you refused his advances. But now you feel you’ve reached the tipping point. Could he forgive you if you changed your mind?

But the thought of him giving up on you and pursuing someone else, made your insides twist. You know he deserves someone better, someone who wasn’t anxious all the time, who wasn’t too scared to show affection, someone without a short temper, someone who looked as beautiful as him, and most importantly, someone who did not have a condition where she fell through time!

Seokjin texts you he’s on his way.

No answer.

Seokjin calls you.

No answer.

He knocks on your door.

No answer.

Seokjin knocks harder.

“Hey love.”

Seokjin turns around, bumping right into you. You crash your lips into his, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Seokjin goes mute. You’re wearing a tight dress, hair made up, diamond jewelry around your neck, a present Seokjin gave you on your anniversary.

You look beautiful. But Seokjin can tell you’re not the same woman. You’re more mature, more relaxed around him.

“C’mon, we have a date tonight, right?” You grab him by the jacket, pulling him into another kiss. It was wild and heated, Seokjin could taste alcohol on your lips.

“Y-Y/n?! You’re from the future!”

“You bend down, pulling up the door mat, holding up a spare key. “I don’t think I’ll mind if I take a visit.”

“Where’s my y/n?” You pull him into your dark apartment. “W-What if you come home.”

“I won’t,” you smile, putting the key on top of your counter, and touch the calendar pinned to your wall, at the date. “Tonight I’m already-” you lift the calendar up to December, “-around four years later, here. And I’m here.”

“You’re…around the same age as me right now.”

You smile, biting your lip, nodding, your eyes sparkling.

You jump on your kitchen counter, winking at him. You’re a little drunk and you’re missing your anniversary dinner. You hope your Seokjin isn’t mad at you, but you’re sure he will understand. You’ll make it up to him when you get back. If you were brought here, it meant Seokjin needed you.

“This was supposed to be our first date,” Seokjin says breathlessly.

“That’s right,” you hold your hand out. “I was a nervous wreck,” you laugh, remembering. Maybe it was you who really had needed the help. “Ahh I remember now.”

“So, I guess that means I get a second date,” he holds your hand, letting you pull him in.

“Oh you get many dates,” you whisper into his mouth, lips rubbing across his own.

Seokjin has been visited by an older version of you a handful of times now. He was starting to feel troubled by the fact that the only time you ever seemed to want him was when you time traveled back to him. This time happened to be the closest he’s gotten to his version of you. That means, in less than four years, he’ll finally get to have you like this all the time. He tries not to feel impatient, but, god, he can’t wait.

He pushes his tongue inside your inviting mouth, yanking your body closer to the edge of the counter.

This was your Seokjin, the one you first fell in love with, so dominating and strong with a desperation in his actions you haven’t experienced in awhile. You fist his shirt, pulling him closer to you, moaning into each other’s mouths.

This is not your home.

Oh no. The last thing you remember, you were trying to think of a way to escape your date with Seokjin and then you tripped, or at least you think you tripped, and the world felt like it turned upside down. And now you’re…where are you?

“There you are, I was wondering where you went off to!”

You turn around, face to face with the man in question. “Seokjin?”

“Yes,” he laughs, “Are you okay? Wait.”

You stand awkwardly in the middle of his living room. “Y/n? Did you time travel?” You nod quickly. He looks around for his y/n. In his old age he was always nervous when you would visit him, he knew you couldn’t exactly save him from a stroke or heart attack, but he always assumed the worst if you fell in unexpectedly. “Am I…in danger?”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so? Fuck…I fucked up. I think…I think this might have been me, this time,” you groan.

“What do you mean?”

“I– Are we still friends?” you look closer at Seokjin, he looks older, not by much, but there was definitely a difference between your Seokjin and him.

Seokjin laughs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“So I didn’t ruin our friendship,” you sigh in relief.

“When did you come from,” Seokjin asks, curious.

“Oh, um,” you weren’t so sure you wanted to remind him. You look around. This place is much nicer than his current home, you notice. You’re happy for him.

Seokjin watches as you look around his home. “Like the place?”

“It’s beautiful, the kitchen, wow,” you laugh in awe. Seokjin smiles at your reaction. You said the same thing when he brought you to this home, asking if you wanted it.

“You look beautiful. What’s the occasion?” You wore a low-cut pastel dress, the short skirt flowed over your hips, showing off your legs. You hadn’t put your heels on yet, standing barefoot on his rug.

“A date,” you mumble.

Seokjin pours himself two drinks. Walking over to you, he hands you a glass. “Who’s the lucky gentlemen?” he teases.

You drink the alcohol to calm your nerves. “You’re from the future, right? Shouldn’t you know?”

“Technically, you’re from the past. And I want to hear you say it, y/n,” he takes another long drink.

“You are mad at me for leaving,” you bite your lip.

“You still haven’t figured it out,” Seokjin sighs. “Look at me, do you think I would be still mad at you for something that happened so long ago? Do you think I could ever be mad at you like that? Do you think I could ever stop loving you?” Seokjin holds your cheek against his palm, the same gesture he always does, unable to help himself from touching you.

“You can’t just love me because I saved your life once when you were a kid, Seokjin. That’s not…okay.”

“Have you ever tried to see me as who I am now to you?”

“Y-Yes,” you swallow, getting lost in his eyes. “But I’m afraid that’s not how you see me…”

“You know what I love about you?” he asks, “We cook together, all the time, we make dinner together. You even let me drag you to cooking classes,” he smiles. “On the weekends when I fish, you’ll come with me and write or paint on the boat, you always keep me company. I even love you when you force me to watch scary movies, you always say you’ll protect me at night.”

“We do all that together?”

“I love that you’re so passionate about things, I love that you are just as competitive as me, I love that you make our home warm, I love your laugh, I love your smile, I love your eyes…”

“Our home?” You put your hand over his, not wanting him to pull away just yet. But Seokjin had no intention of leaving you.

“You think I love you because you saved me when I was a child. But I don’t think that’s what happened at all. I think you saved me because I loved you so much.”

You feel your heart clench at his words, opening up as if he had the key, turning it until he unlocked something inside of you, hidden so deep out of fear.

“I’m sorry I ran away from our first date,” you cry.

Seokjin laughs, kissing your forehead. “What are you talking about? You’re right here with me now.” He hugs you close, “Our first date, huh? Ahh now I remember,” he smiles. “You wore this for me?” Seokjin looks down your body hungrily. His thumb reaches out to touch the corner of your lips.

His younger self will forgive him for stealing your first kiss together.

Seokjin kissed you softly, testing the waters, until you pressed your lips into his demandingly, and he cradled the back of your head, licking over your mouth until you opened for him. His tongue rolls over yours, mouth devouring you until you were weak in the knees.

His hands ran down your body, going under your dress and pressing you to him in the most achingly pleasurable way you let out a soft moan for more.

Seokjin loved your body now, but there was something evocative in the younger version of you that reminded Seokjin of the start of your relationship, when you couldn’t keep your hands off one another and when you and him had the energy to go all night and morning long for days.

“Oh Seokjin.”

Seokjin already knows he’s not going to forgive himself for what he’s going to do next to you. But it’s only fair, his younger self is having too much fun with his version of you. That black dress was meant for him, Seokjin thinks, a little angry with his younger self too, barely remembering the distant memory.

Seokjin lays you on the couch, delicately pulling off your lace panties teasingly, leaving open mouthed kisses across your calf and thigh. He runs his tongue up your leg, achingly slow.

You whine for him, crying out his name, unable to hold back your yearning for him any longer.

You were so responsive to his touch, goosebumps blooming all over your skin at his ministrations. When his tongue dove into your core, you shuddered, legs over his shoulders and heels digging into his back, your own back arching into him as he licked over your mound, pressing his tongue deep inside you.

He replaces his tongue with two fingers, setting a punishing pace with his digits stroking inside your sex and his tongue over your clit, a dizzying force that sent pleasure waves throughout your body.

“Oh my god,” was all you could manage to say, broken out in between heaving moans.

He removes his tongue only to growl out, “Be a good girl and cum on my fingers for me, okay angel?”

You groan, legs locking around his arm as he curls his fingers into your sweet spot until you spasm, orgasming quicker than you’ve ever had before, even by your own fingers. “That’s it, baby.”

You lie, in shock, still trembling in pleasure.

Seokjin waited so long to have you again, and even though it wasn’t the version of you he wanted, this version acted exactly how he wished you would. You couldn’t keep your hands off his body, you couldn’t stop your moans for him. You were hungry for him, full of desire for him, on your knees for him and god, Seokjin felt like he was losing his mind with lust.

He dragged you off his cock, needing to fuck you first. He bent you over your counter, too horny to even think about stopping and moving somewhere else. He needed you now, before you disappeared, he needed to fuck you full, to make you cry out his name, he needed that validation, he needed you wrapped around his cock, warm and tight and his. You were his. He admired the jiggle of your ass, your back arching for him, your mouth open, your cheek pressed against the marble of your countertop as he dragged you back and forth on his cock. All of you, all his.

He interlaces his hands in yours, holding you down as his pace quickens. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you moan out for him, tightening around his cock as he pounds into you from behind.

“I want you to come first,” he pants.

“Ungh…fingers,” you grunt, closing your eyes, so close.

Seokjin has learned a thing or two since fucking you last. He lifts one of your legs up onto the countertop, fucking you even deeper, rolling his hips into yours. His fingers find your clit, his other hand in your hair, tightening his grip as he fucks you.

You tremble, limbs locking as Seokjin brings you over the edge, fucking you through it and dragging out your pleasure until it becomes too much.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so tight, I’m going to — ungh.”

Seokjin pulls out, resting his cock in your folds. His shaft twitches against your sensitive nub, making you tremble. Seokjin covers your sex with his cum, marking you as his.

And then he pulls you into his arms, nowhere near finished with you.

Seokjin peels your dress off you, fingers pulling at your nipples until you gasp. Pocketing your underwear, he undoes his pants, pulling out his hard length, thick and heavy against your thigh.

You inhale sharply at the sight of him. God, has he always been this sexy? Probably. You’re an idiot for waiting so long. You instinctively open your legs wider for him. “Want it, baby?” Seokjin smirks. He’s bold, already confident in his relationship with you, and he likes teasing you, especially this version of you, when you still have your timidness, your cute modesty. “Tell me how bad you want me.”

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance. “Tell me,” he grunts as his fingers dip inside your hole. His wet fingers travel up your body, circling your nipple and resting on your throat as he uses the tip of his cock to tease you instead.

“Please, I want you.”

Seokjin licks his lips, watching you squirm underneath him. “How bad?”

“Fuck, please, Seokjin, I want you so bad.”

“Yeah?” He rests himself at your entrance. He could do this all night, torture you slowly. He knows your body, he’s had you so many times before. He can keep you like this for as long as he likes, because he knew you haven’t felt him yet, and he knew it was driving you crazy to wait. This was only a little sweet payback for all the waiting he used to do for you.

“Beg me, angel.”

“Please, Seokjin, please,” you whimper. “Fuck me, please...please...” you pant.

Seokjin rolls his hips into yours, filling you with one long languid stroke that takes your breath away. He brings your legs up, folding you so he can fuck you deep, fill you completely.

It feels so good you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You hold onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his back. Fuck, it feel so good. Sex with Seokjin is the best sex of your life. He is thick and long and is hitting spots you didn’t even know existed inside of you.

“I’m g-going to cum again,” you moan out.

“Yeah? Gonna come on my cock this time? Fuck, you feel so tight. You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“So…close-”

“Come, baby,” Seokjin runs his fingers over your sex, circling your oversensitive clit. You shake and tremble around him, limbs locking. “One more, fu-uck, give me one more.” Seokjin was going to make sure you knew what you could look forward to when you went back, that you weren’t going to ever forget you belonged with him.

He rolls his hips slow and steady, fucking every thought out of your head until you could only think of the way his cock dragged in and out of you, his fingers relentlessly slipping against your clit.

“Seokjin!”

“Good girl, that’s a good girl.”

Seokjin woke up half naked on the rug of your living room all alone.

And then he heard a thud in your bedroom and knew you were back in his life again. Never that far.

You look up as your bedroom door creaks open. You pull your sheet off your bed, dragging it onto the floor to cover yourself.

“Hey,” you stutter.

“Hey,” Seokjin whispers, covering his chest.

“Seokjin, did you want to, um, cook breakfast together?”

---

“Hey old man.”

“Hey angel.” Seokjin had gray hair, wrinkles in the creases of his eyes when he smiled at you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Now that you’re here, I’m sure it will be fine.”

Taking your hand in his, you both notice the gold rings on your fingers.

“How’d you get in this boat all by yourself?”

“The easy part is getting in, the hard part is getting out,” Seokjin laughs.

“And where am I?”

“I suppose, somewhere saving my life.”

You jump into the boat, helping him to his feet. “Promise me you’ll fix this dock with some decent steps and railings,” you grunt.

“I promise,” he smiles.

You smile back, tying the boat up to the dock. “I’m happy I came here, to see you. We lasted this long, huh? Not that I had any doubts,” you tease. Seokjin chuckles, waiting for you as you finish securing the last loops. He sits on his cooler, filled with today’s catch.

You bend down and kiss him on the cheek, helping him up to his feet again. “Let’s go inside and wait for me, then, yeah?” you say, linking your arms together.

---

“Y/n?” Seokjin called out to you. Somehow, even with your gray hair, your hunched withered body, he could tell it was you.

“Oh, Seokjin, oh my god,” you wheeze out, tears in your eyes. The last time you saw Seokjin was three years ago, the day he died. You touch his cheek, no longer wrinkled by time, tears escaping your cloudy eyes.

“Angel, you found me again.”

“I missed you. God, I missed you so much.”

“I’m here now,” Seokjin whispers, taken aback by your tears and how broken you sounded, his heart clenching and thinking of the worst. He hugs you, calming you down.

You remembered this day.

“I know why I’m here,” you say happily. “Today is the day I go into labor.”

“But your due date is not for another three months,” your husband says, confused.

“That’s right,” you remember. “There’s a complication. We’ll be fine,” you reassure him as he starts to panic, “Just take me to the hospital now, okay love.”

Seokjin nods, hugging you again. It’s overwhelming, having him in your arms again after all these years. Even if the man you loved is gone, you feel a sense of happiness wash over you knowing this version of him and you still have so many years left to live, so much love to give each other. So many more beautiful memories to make, all that you know will be the best ones yet.

“Oh dear, I love you,” you cry.

“I love you too. Every time. Every where,” Seokjin whispers.

And that was the last time you fell for Seokjin.

---

Happy birthday, Seokjin! Did you like it? I cried, but I'm a crybaby, did you cry? I need to know if I'm still decent at angst lol.

Masterlist

#seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin smut #jin smut #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #jin angst #bts college au #bts fantasy au #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #happy birthday seokjin

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muniimyg · 11 months

Text

SWEETENER // KSJ !!!!!!!!! ON HOLD !!!!!!!!!!

in which jin has a sweet spot for you

being your neighbour isn’t easy... especially when you’re constantly knocking on kim seok jin’s door. but to be fair; he knocked on your door first

navi | m. list | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !

pairings:

softboy seokjin + extrovert oc

au/genre:

strangers to friends to lovers

neighbours au

delusion [oc speaks for us all]

[slight] one sided pining / a sad excuse of a slow burn

smut, crack, angst

social media au + written

warnings:

implied + actual smut

name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, jealousy, miscommunication, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and the friendzone vibes <3

parts:

ongoing / 25

index # sweetener ksj

00 | intro

01 | crying rn

02 | wuver

03 | map

04 | delulu girls

05 | going thru it

06 | flirting

#seokjin fic #kim seokjin fic #bts fanfic #bts smau #jin fake texts #jin f2l #jin scenario #jin imagine #seokjin x oc #jin x reader #bts fake texts

200 notes · View notes

bangtansmauyeondan · 3 months

Text

HALLI GALLI KING (KSJ | Moonstruck Bonus Chapter)

Pairing: Seokjin x Fem. Reader (Married Couple)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (Don't let the cute banner fool you!), Toddler Talk, Food Talk, Mature Languages, Explicit/Suggestive, Mirror seggs

Genre: Mature, Fluff, Minor Angst

WC: 3.9k

This is a bonus chapter of the Moonstruck series, but can be read alone. However, I highly suggest you read the whole series if you want to meet the most comforting Seokjin character (thank you for saying this, @ahundredtimesover); and if you want to feel all warm and fuzzy from the relationship between them and their extensive and chaotic friend group.

NOT PROOFREAD, SO DON'T COME AT ME.

•••

Seokjin was jolted awake with a grunt by the energetic antics of his two-year-old daughter. With a diaper-cushioned bottom, Lily landed squarely on his stomach, accompanied by the joyful sound of her squeal resonating throughout the room.

“Daddy, wet’s go!” Lily crawled on top of him as her little fingers attempted to reach for his face.

Cracking open his eyelids, he was greeted by the sight of mini pigtails and chubby cheeks right in front of his still-blurry vision. Two little fingers were on a mission, attempting to sneak into his mouth. Before he could fully grasp the situation, a hint of your light perfume tickled his nose as you leaned in to rescue him from the toddler takeover.

“Say ‘good morning, daddy’ and give him a kiss, bubs.” Your melodious voice came through, enough to make him internally smile.

“Goo mowing daddy.” A tiny voice followed before a wet sloppy smooch landed on his left cheek.

“Good morning, baby,” He smothered her chubby cheeks with kisses, triggering a chorus of delightful screams. With a playful gesture, he signaled for you to join the cuddle party, arms wide open for a little morning family cuddle.

“I don’t know what you want to have for breakfast but I cut up some fruits and I’m thawing out the waffles.”

“Don’t worry about me, honey,” he mumbled before planting a kiss on your nose. “Are we going somewhere? Why is she dressed up this early?”

“Daddy, wet’s go!” Lily piped up again, seemingly understanding what his dad just said.

“Where are we going, bubs?”

Instead of answering him, Lily crawled off the bed and waddled towards a pile of plushies on the other side of the room, picking up a well-loved bunny stuffed toy given to her by Jungkook when she was still a baby. “Tokki!” Lily squealed before running and failing to climb back up on the bed. “Untew Kookie, Tokki and Lily bunny!” She tattled excitedly, using the nickname Jungkook has given her while pointing to herself, fully expecting her confused father to understand.

“JK is dropping her off at daycare and picking her up,” you started explaining. “He hasn’t seen her in a while and wanted to take her to the zoo after.”

“She’s your daughter, Seokjin. She has your height,” you rolled your eyes at him. “If she’s not, my brother will figure it out.”

“Is she tall enough for the zoo?” Seokjin asked, confusion etched on his face.

Seokjin got up from the bed and scooped his daughter up, extending his other hand for you to take. “Let’s start the day already, yeah? We want to make sure you and Uncle Kookie are both well fed before you leave.”

You smiled to yourself as you followed your husband out of the bedroom.

Three years into the marriage, you found yourselves in the groove of family life, with a pint-sized sidekick stealing the spotlight. Mornings evolved into a tag-team spectacle, featuring breakfast skirmishes and a toddler tornado leaving a trail of toy mayhem. In the middle of it all, Seokjin somehow managed to squeeze in his pre-work routine, a feat you marveled at. Lucky for you, the work flexibility of an entrepreneur worked in your favor, after starting your own Home Fragrance business. The evenings however, were a comedy show, featuring attempts at gourmet-dinners-for-toddler prepared by your husband, that usually ended in hilarious situations. From the routine of bedtime stories and lullabies, you realized that your love story had expanded to include a tiny co-author. The house reverberated with laughter, baby babble, and admittedly finding moments for each other became a tad challenging. That’s why you tried hard to cherish every minute of cuddling before both of you drifted into a deep slumber at night.

Seokjin reveled in the luxurious embrace of deep slumber the night before, relishing the fact that today was Wednesday. Unlike other days, Wednesday granted him the rare reprieve from the bustling restaurant scene, allowing him to bypass the early morning alarm ritual. However, this particular Wednesday marked a first – his daughter wouldn't be at home for a good few hours. Since the beginning of the week, she had started attending daycare.

With your pint-sized ball of energy safely picked up by Jungkook and taken to daycare, you found yourselves in an uncharted territory – a quiet, toddler-free home on a random morning. The sudden absence of toy-induced chaos left the air surprisingly serene. Rather than basking in the newfound peace, boredom set in faster than you could say "peek-a-boo."

Glancing at each other, you exchanged grins and embarked on a mission to reclaim the living room from the toy minefield. Seokjin groaned like an old man as he picked up the last piece of toy off the living room carpet before chucking it in the basket - a small Princess Peach figure that may not be appropriate for a two year-old at the moment. “That’s the last of it!”

Without the usual background sound of tiny giggles and babbles, the house felt oddly still. Determined to make the most of your mini hiatus, Seokjin turned the music up and launched into an impromptu dance party, pulling you along and busting out with some questionable dance moves.

Your face started hurting from so much laughter, feeling more like the past versions of yourselves again– Seokjin and YN, young, carefree, and in love. Always been in love.

You both fell on the couch, entangled with each other in an embrace and almost out of breath from your mean dance moves and endless laughter.

“What are we doing next?” You asked, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath. “Jenga?”

“Yah… Do you want Lily to choke on those?”

“Okay, no. Scratch that…”

“Halli Galli,” Seokjin grinned before catching the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth.

“We can’t play a drinking game!”

Seokjin shifted and lied down on the couch, bringing you along, making you land on top of him. “I didn't mean Halli Galli…” He dropped his voice a few octaves lower in a suggestive manner, while skillful hands started slowly kneading your ass, “I meant Halli Galli.”

You gasped, lightly slapping your husband’s chest at the suggestion. “In broad daylight?”

Seokjin’s hands traveled up underneath your shirt, skimming along the skin of your lower back. “We have four hours.”

•••

Grabbing the vibrant bell and scattering the deck of fruity cards with a mischievous grin, Seokjin geared up for an unusual round of Halli Galli that you "invented" as a couple. With a sly wink and a confident smirk, he slumped down on the carpeted floor, right in front of you, and set the stage for a duel of lightning-quick reflexes, where every ring of the bell meant a sweet taste of victory for one and a piece of clothing less for the other.

“You think you’re so smart,” you squinted at your husband who obviously has the advantage, as the undefeated king of Halli Galli in your friend group.

“I’m playing fair and square, honey,” he smirked while giving you a once over. “You’re the one who’s not.”

“What do you mean?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I’m still in my pajamas. You have more clothes on than I do.”

“Whatever, Seokjin…”

“Yeah, right. Whatever,” he snickered. “I’m gonna get you naked in under ten minutes,” he rubbed his palms excitedly while letting out a squeal that’s meant to push your buttons.

“Okay, wait, wait…” You clasped your hands around his and made him look you in the eye. “Let’s take this up a notch then.”

“Ooooh…” Seokjin’s eyes shimmered in amusement. “I love how competitive you are.”

“No staring and no touching until all the cards are cleared out.” Your smile widened when you felt your husband swallow thickly. “You get turned on, you lose. Got it?”

“Deal.”

With a collective deep breath and teasing looks, the one on one game officially commenced. Seokjin drew the first card and the race to spot a matching set of 5 began, fingers hovering anxiously over the cards.

3 bananas

2 plums

1 lime

2 bananas

1 strawberry

4 strawberries

DING!!!

Seokjin’s infectious laughter rang out, infused with a teasing tone, completely in contrast with a groan you let out for missing the bell. “Take it off! Take it off!” He chanted while repeatedly hitting the bell.

You made a show of slowly lifting up your shirt and discarding it over your head, exposing a flattering lacy piece of black strapless material that perfectly hugged your breasts. “Like what you see?”

“Not looking!” Seokjin quickly denied it, but the deep shade of pink adorning the tips of his ears said otherwise. Oh, your poor ‘boobs man’ husband.

You started the second round.

2 limes

3 strawberries

1 banana

3 plums

2 strawberries

2 bananas

5 plums

DING!!!

“Nooooooo!!!!!” You whined in frustration when Seokjin beat you to the bell again. “Why did I agree to this? I will never win against you.”

“Because you enjoy giving me a strip tease.” Seokjin snorted.

“Or you enjoy seeing me strip, that’s why you always suggest this!”

“What are–”

Seokjin’s words got caught up in his throat when you wiggled your way out of your jeans, revealing a lacy pair of panties that matched your bra, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. He sure has seen you in all your glory through the years of your marriage, but the soft natural light streaming in from the window had this way of making your skin glow, giving you a subtle, effortless radiance. He was momentarily out of it and so he didn’t notice when you came closer to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

“You're drooling.” You took advantage of your husband's dazed state and drew a new card.

2 strawberries

1 lime

3 plums

4 bananas

1 banana

DING!!!

You screamed in excitement when you got the bell first before Seokjin did. “I got you!” You quickly skipped over the deck of cards to your husband, fiddling with the first button of his blue pajama top, “Strip, strip, strip, strip!”

“Yah, what are you doing?” Seokjin burst out laughing at your eagerness, the excitement from winning against him too obvious. “Are you taking my clothes off for me?”

“Can I?” You gave him the puppy eyes that work on him all the damn time.

“Absolutely not,” he said sternly, making you pout. “Sit your pretty ass back down, love.” You scoffed before making a show of slowly crawling back to the other side of the cards in all fours, showing off your ass at him. Seokjin felt his cock twitch. “Fucking hell, YN,” he muttered under his breath, earning a giggle from you. “You know I’m gonna get you topless on the next round, right?”

Your snarky remark didn’t make it out of your lips when you turned to look at Seokjin who’s already removed his pajama top, leaving him in a white low-neck sleeveless undershirt. His broad chest commanded attention, like a sculpted landscape that exuded strength. Of all the things you love about your husband, funny how a simple show of muscles beneath taut skin seemed to drive you absolutely insane that you had to press your thighs together, already feeling the wetness pool between your legs. As his shirt dipped down, revealing a teasing glimpse of his exposed clavicle, your eyes zeroed in on a small beauty mark just below his left collarbone.

Seokjin noticed your subtle movement, feeling his mouth turn paper-dry. He has been internally battling against himself since the first round and there’s nothing he wanted more than to fuck you stupid on the floor right at that moment. But he knew all this teasing would be well worth it in the end. “Well…?”

“And if I get you topless on the next round?” You challenged, tilting your head at him.

Holding your gaze, Seokjin drew a card.

3 bananas

1 plum

2 limes

1 banana

5 strawberries

DING!!!

“Yeah!!!!” Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding-ding-ding-dingggg! Seokjin hit the bell repeatedly in victory before standing up, closing his eyes, and throwing his hands up in the air, imagining a roar of applause in his head like an athlete who just scored a life-changing goal.

“You look like you just scored a goal,” you stood up, crossing your arms, feigning annoyance.

“The goal is to get you naked, you know,” he winked, throwing two finger guns your way. It’s so Seokjin of him and you couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes and let out a laugh.

“Is that so?” You sauntered towards your husband, letting a mischievous grin dance on your lips. The air was charged with a sultry energy as you approached, and you couldn't resist a subtle hip sway that turned the simple act of walking into teasing.

You could see the curiosity spark in his eyes, and as you reached him, you couldn't resist playfully twirling a loose strand of hair around your finger and a quick lip bite, before running the same finger along his clavicle, down the length of his torso. Seokjin’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, making it obvious that your subtle movement already had an effect on him. The corner of your lips turned up into a knowing smile when your eyes landed on a very prominent outline on his pajama bottoms.

You’re no better. Had Seokjin not been distracted by this little teasing show you’re trying to pull off, it would be difficult for you to hide the arousal that was soaking through your panties. You were gushing, and aching, desperate for his touch and you don’t know how long you could keep all this act up.

You slowly pushed him back on the couch and he landed with a soft bounce as soon as the back of his knees hit the edge of the cushion.

“You said no touching?”

“I changed my mind,” you gasped the moment the words slipped out of your mouth, not expecting to be pulled down by the waist, knees landing on either side of Seokjin’s hips.

Seokjin tugged on your hips and helped you properly straddle him, immediately feeling the dampness of your core against his growing erection. “Shit, you’re already wet and we haven’t even done anything yet.” He wrapped one arm around you tighter and used his free hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Have I been neglecting you?” His voice came out strained in an airy whisper, worry and guilt pooling his eyes. He let his eyes roam freely on your beautiful face. Your silence screamed volumes, telling him everything he needed to know.

“Fuck,” he raked his fingers from the side of your nape up through your hair, giving it a light tug and exposing your neck. “I have,” the sensation of his warm breath hitting your sensitive skin sent goosebumps down your spine. Your eyes automatically shut and your jaw fell open when your husband started leaving wet trails of kisses up your neck, nipping on your sweet spot just behind the ear. “I’m sorry, baby,” he licked a long stripe up your throat, “I have no excuse,” and captured your mouth in a mind-numbing kiss, tongue expertly swirling, exploring and eliciting moans from you.

You broke the kiss after what seemed like forever to catch your breath, only to plant your knees firmly on the couch and aggressively tug on Seokjin’s tanktop. “Take this off,” you demanded. Seokjin obliged and discarded his tanktop, throwing it haphazardly on the floor before letting his head fall back on the headrest of the couch, staring up at you— lips swollen, cheeks flushed, and hair disheveled.

You ran your tongue across your lips before dipping your head down and attacking his neck with soft kisses, paying attention to the little beauty mark on his collarbone. You continued nipping at his soft skin, while your other hand made its way up to his ear, lightly rubbing his earlobe between your fingertips, making him close his eyes and groan in pleasure. “I told you I’m the one getting you topless on the next round,” you whispered followed by a flirty giggle.

“Cheater,” Seokjin chuckled, eyes still closed. “You’re using my weakness against me.”

“Damn right, I am,” you bit back, slowly grinding your hips to feel his painfully hard manhood. “Mmm… you’re so hard right now, baby.” You gasped when you felt your bra loosen away from your body, almost missing the way Seokjin had swiftly unclasped it and threw it out of your sight with one hand.

“Now, we’re even,” he sat up and quickly gathered your hands behind your back, holding them down with one hand while the other started fondling your right boob. “God, I love these tits so much,” he captured the other one in his mouth, tonguing your nipple while mimicking the movement with his thumb on the other one.

You arched your back, writhed and moaned in pleasure, almost positive that you’re gushing through your panties and soaking through your husband’s pajama bottoms as well, “Fuck, Jinnie…” Your pussy clenched at nothing, desperate to be touched. “Baby, touch me, please.”

“Shhh…” Seokjin splayed his hands on your back pulling you closer again, while peppering your chest and neck with kisses. “I’ll take care of you, hmn? I got you…” Pushing your panties to the side, he ran his middle finger along your sopping slit. “I’m gonna make you feel good, baby…” He went in with two fingers, slowly pumping them in and out of you while putting pressure on your clit with his thumb.

You whimpered in pleasure as your husband curled his fingers repeatedly, reaching that soft spongy spot that made your knees weak. “Jin, baby, I need you inside me,” you cried out, hands reaching out to tug on Seokjin’s arms.

Without a word, Seokjin slipped his fingers out of you and stood up from the couch, aiding you in the process. He stepped out of his pajamas and pre-cum-stained boxers and helped you in removing your panties as well.

You clawed at his shoulders, pulling him back for a hot searing kiss, in anticipation of being fucked stupid on the couch, only to be caught by surprise when Seokjin turned you around and pushed you against the porcelain console table, meeting your reflection against the huge wall mirror head on.

Seokjin tugged on your hips, bending you over and before you realized what’s happening, he’s already thrusting into you with a deep groan, pushing you forward on the console table, making the decorative trinkets and scented candles rattle by the force.

Your legs shook trying to take in the pain and the pleasure of being stretched out combined as Seokjin relentlessly fucked you; the glorious sounds slipping out of his mouth as he took you from behind making your head spin. You whimpered as your head hung low, your hands clasping and unclasping against nothing as you tried to ground yourself. You’re a moaning and whining mess. Your skin covered with a sheen of sweat, your hair disheveled, and your skin blotchy with blooming purple marks from your husband’s earlier assault. You felt him gently grab your jaw and directed you to look in the mirror.

“Eyes on me,” he whispered against your ear. Seokjin’s thick eyebrows were furrowed, his skin also glistened with sweat, and his ears and neck were flushed red. You both stared at each other in the mirror, letting the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans and groans of pleasure speak for yourselves for a good few seconds.

“I’m close, baby…” you whined, feeling the tightness on your lower belly.

“Yeah?” Seokjin snaked one arm around you, propping you up while fondling your breasts, and brought his free hand between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit. “Do you like that, baby? Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, intently watching you fall apart in his arms. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you moaned out your answer and he took the sweet opportunity to nip at your shoulder.

“Fuck, Seokjiiiinnn…”

Your beautiful sound turned him on even more, and his pace became more sloppy and erratic, a telltale sign that he’s also close to cumming.

“That’s it, baby,” Seokjin whispered in your ear. “I love you so much. You’re doing so good.”

Tears started prickling your eyes, an unbidden response to the overwhelming surge of emotion that gripped you in that moment. A sudden jolt of pleasure snapped the tightening knot you felt on your lower belly free, and Seokjin fucked you through waves of euphoric bliss, until he’s stilling his hips and painting your walls white with his own release.

It took him a good few seconds before pulling out of you and catching his breath, but the first thing he did was take you in his arms and capture your lips into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” he rested his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

“But you are around…” you reached up and ran your thumb against his cheek.

“I should have paid more attention to you,” he pouted.

“It’s okay, as long as Lily’s the only other girl hogging all your attention.”

“Of course!” Seokjin dipped his head and started kissing down your neck, “...unless you give me another daughter, you know.”

You yelped in surprise when your husband picked you up bridal-style and made his way up to your bedroom.

“Seokjin!”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

•••

“We’re home!” Jungkook’s booming voice echoed around the house a mere thirty minutes after Seokjin finished cleaning up in the living room, and you went on to start preparing for lunch. “Stay right here, Lily bunny,” he sat your daughter down on the carpeted floor and took a bulky interactive felt book out of her little backpack. “What did we learn in school?”

“Foots!” She proudly smiled up at her uncle while pointing at felt cutouts of fruits with googly eyes from her book.

“Good job, bunbun!” Jungkook softly pinched his niece’s little nose, which made the little one sneeze.

You rounded the corner from the kitchen at the same time that Seokjin made his way downstairs with a change of clothes for your daughter.

“Stay for lunch; I’m making suyuk.” You know your younger brother won’t be able to say no to pork belly.

“Taehyung also brought some pa kimchi from Mom the other day. It would be so good with suyuk.” Seokjin added.

“Oh damn, yeah. That would be delicious.” Jungkook nodded. “By the way, Yoongi hyung called and–”

“Bananas! Bananas!” Lily squealed excitedly, holding up a single Halli Galli card that Seokjin missed while cleaning up.

“Yah…” Jungkook took the card from Lily and paused for a moment, cogwheels turning in his head. Seokjin pressed his lips together trying hard not to burst out laughing. You, on the other hand, looked mortified, silently praying for the ground to crack open and swallow you up whole. “Did you two play Halli Galli while I took Lily out?”

Silence.

Jungkook groaned. “You filthy animals!”

Seokjin gave in and launched into his infectious squeaky laugh, tagging you and your brother along.

The sexy Halli Galli game may have reached its boisterous and delightful climax for the day, but the love and intimacy exchanged between you and Seokjin would forever linger in your shared little home.

•••

SERIES TAGLIST: @bts-reveries @tan-dulset @persphonesorchid @joonjoonsmiles @jayhope88 @thatbangtanjagiya @anaceciliaxr @justinetingball @halesandy @yoongleskitten @onemanbandarmi @juju-227592 @ephyra1230 @somelazysundays @ygbubs @timelessruins @teamtardis-notdead @sugakookies0613 @pinkseokchim @taestefully-in-luv

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @snoozeagustd @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @taestefully-in-luv @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111

#jin moonstruck #moonstruck au #bangtansmauyeondan #kim seokjin #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #moonstruck crumbs

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chryblossomjjk · 1 year

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bts fic recommendations | 01.25.23

→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs

scent of eager suds - @rkivian (knj x reader | smut, angst, pwp, fluff)

summary: you missed each other, too fucking much. but your head had stayed down in futile hopes of remaining stubborn, forgetting that there is a wedding ring on that tricksy little finger of his for a reason.

so..... genuinely convinced you are the reincarnate of shakespeare babe bc like:

"He would spend a considerably scant amount of time on such a task, yet fulfil it so thoroughly that the constant aching between your legs seemed more equitable than you would like it to be."

LOOK WHAT YOU DO WITH WORDS!!! like everything is so precise. i can tell there's so much thought put into every single word of this piece and woah.. the writing is fucking stellar, seriously. like just the words you use throughout this displays how the reader feels about being vulnerable with joonie: cruel, vengeful, venomous. u put pwp but like you characterized the fuck out of this reader and it's so good...

also... this is thee kim namjoon. like as someone who is v much similar to the reader and self sabotages relationships, ppl who love you enough to recognize that trait and do their best to prove u wrong

AND YOU DID THAT ALL THROUGHOUT THE FLITHIEST NASTIEST SEXIEST SMUT EVER PLS HE'S SO HOT LIKE HE TRULY JUST WANTS TO MAKE HER FEEL GOOD INSIDE AND OUT AND IM GATEKEEPING HIM!!!! this was so so so beautiful and thank you for sharing with plebeians like me :') <3

the one where jin is drunk off his face and you get friend-zoned - @indgio (ksj x reader | fluff, crack)

saf everything you write just comforts my soul. it's missing jin hours around these parts and this is exactly want i needed. i don't know how to explain it but this gives me run episode vibes? like... this is legit kim seokjin. I COULD TOTALLY PICTURE HIM DOING SOME SHIT LIKE THIS LMAO WHAT A SWEET BABY!

also love this oc fr. like from the opening paragraph i could already tell she's the most adorable, most precious being, and you proved it throughout the rest :') <3 taking care of ur drunk partner trope will never not get me and you did it so splendidly ugh will definitely be coming back to this when im sad and 3am and missing my seokjin :'( thanks for this ily <3

"tell me more about this girlfriend of yours."

but jin looks at you with a frown, as he downs the water. "no. get your own."

^also for whatever reason this took me tf out lmao

the one where jungkook will always protect you, even from the fictional - @indgio (jjk x reader | fluff, humor)

bby istg your writing is so... refreshing? like i always think i need these super crazy, convoluted, heavy plots for my fics to be good, but your writing is proof that doesn't have to be the case. your writing is so effortless, yet so beautiful. like once again, genuine comfort content that i don't see too much of anymore. going through your masterlist has really inspired me to take a new avenue, because your fics are just so fucking addicting. i just love the slice of life vibes so much uGh okay enough nutting over u and onto the fic sehfbjsehbdhwb

pov ur saf in my brain BC THE AMOUNT OF TIMES IVE DAYDREAMED ABOUT THIS EXACT SCENARIO IS MENTAL ILLNESS (was just picturing binge watching AOT w him :'))

this jungkook is such a golden retriever ass boyfriend my heart can't take it. the banter ?? the protectiveness ?? THE BITING THE EAR ??? naur im in love it's settled. adding him to the list of fav jungkook portrayals on tumby. will be thinking about him when im bored in the back of my lecture tomorrow. thank you for daydream fuel <3

stfu yes it's wednesday get off my back >:'( i posted this early last week and was just trying to even the timing out that's all... im lying. anyways, love u lmao

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httpknjoon · 2 years

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lie detector test | ksj

plot | During promotions of his new movie, Jin was set in a lie detector test. Surprise, surprise! He was asked about you.

words | 2.1k+

genres | humor/crack, fluff, actors!au

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

disclaimer | usernames used in the fic are all fictional.

note | for my first post this month, here is another drabble for my favorite rumored couple *wink*. This one was set for 2021.

main masterlist | drabble series

Jin Takes a Lie Detector Test | Vanity Fair

13,826,003 views January 14, 2021 Jin takes Vanity Fair’s infamous lie detector test. Has he ever lied during a casting audition? Does he really have a bias between dogs and cats? Is he a secretly good singer? Was he the one who gifted Y/N Francheskat?

Still Alive is out on Netflix on January 15, 2021.

“Okay, this will go around your chest. This one’s around your waist. Then, the last one is here in your arm.”

Jin sat stiff as the polygraph examiner put on the device on his body. He waited for the man, who recalled the name as Barry, to sit back in front of the polygraph. Jin tapped his fingertips on the wooden table while he looked at the interviewer. He strangely feels nervous about how serious around him feel. Even though this is just a Vanity Fair video as part of his promotions for his new Netflix film.

The interviewer began, “Is your full name Kim Seokjin?”

“Yes.” he nods with a wink straight to the camera, an unconscious habit of his every time he introduces himself.

“Were you born on December 4, 1992?” she asked once again.

“Yes.”

For a split second, Jin honestly thought of lying. Just to test if the machine really works. But decided to just do it later. Plus, his nerves are still kind of tense.

“Are you about to take a lie detector test?”

“I am.” Jin smiled.

The interviewer continued, “Are you nervous?”

“No…” his voice trailed off as he turned his head to Bob, who was sitting on the side.

Bob looked up with a serious expression, “He’s lying.”

Jin laughed, “Okay! Maybe I am. This is weirdly nerve-wracking.”

The video cuts to a plain white background with capitalized letters: JIN TELLS THE TRUTH. The video proceeded with Jin sitting more relaxed on the chair.

“The first category is… your life.”

A brown folder slid on the table. Jin, feeling more comfortable, wanted to laugh at how serious everything is. He watched this kind of video before and he didn’t expect it to be a bit intimidating. Especially Barry, who was friendly before they shoot.

“Is it true that you used Jin as your mononym to avoid connections with your family?”

“Yes.” Jin nods. He didn’t even bother to hesitate.

He came from a family that already had a place in the entertainment industry. Both in the production and performing departments. His parents were both actors who earned their fame sometime in the mid-80s while his uncle from his father’s side is a renowned filmmaker and producer who received critical acclaim for every work he does. Another aunt from his father is a successful broadway theatre actress. And when his parents divorced and his mom remarried when he was five, he have a stepfather who is also an actor.

“You are an alumnus of Juilliard.“

Jin nodded quietly, urging her to continue with her question.

“You said in an interview before that you took a degree for acting because you want to be confident with yourself when auditioning for roles in the future. Do you think you will be as self-assured as you are now if you went straight to Hollywood?”

“Nope.” he shook his head. “I learned so much from Juilliard and if I went straight to acting instead of studying, I don’t think that I’ll be able to pass auditions.”

“Speaking of auditions, is it true that you changed your surname in your early casting calls?”

“Yes, I did.” Jin giggled.

“Why?”

“I want to pass it because of my skills. I want them to be honest with me if my acting was good or bad.” Jin replied. “I just don’t want to be labeled as something because I am naturally related to someone. I wanted to prove to myself and others that I am also working toward my goals. It’s not like I have my mouth open to be spoonfed with offers.”

The interviewer nodded respectfully with his answer. Jin tried to say that as calmly and kindly as possible. He is aware that sometimes he gets called a nepotism baby because of his family history in Hollywood and he is grateful if he gets projects because of it. But he always avoided getting things the easy way. He wants to go through the same process as his other colleagues.

The interviewer continued, “Your mom once said in an interview with Conan O’Brien that you were interested in pursuing music when you were younger. Is that true?”

“Yes. I used to play instruments before.” he shared. He knows how to play guitar, ukulele, piano, and a little bit of violin. He learned the last one just because his dad asked him to learn it when he was a kid.

The interviewer was quick to ask a follow-up question, “She also said that you sing a lot. Some said that you have a really good singing voice. Do you agree with that?”

Jin shifted on his seat as he squints his eyes, thinking about his reply, “I… don’t know.”

“Seems unsure,” Barry mumbled on the side.

The interviewer eyes Jin, waiting for him to explain which he did, “I don’t really know. Sometimes I feel good, so I sing at home. Most times I don’t so I just don’t sing.”

“Is that why we never heard you sing?”

“No.” Jin laughed. “I just don’t want to sing in public. But I do sing… for a few people.”

“For a few people?” the interviewer repeated.

Jin nods with a smile, “Yup.”

Another folder was placed on the table.

“Let’s talk about relationships.”

Jin was never public with his past relationships. He is always a private person except when his drunk and he accidentally posts shit on his social media accounts. But other than that, he is very private. So, he wondered what relationship thing could be asked about him.

“Is it true that you prefer dogs over cats?”

He almost laughed with that question. So this is the relationship they are talking about…

“Yes. Dogs are more friendly!” he exclaimed. “Like they jump around and wiggle their tails when they see their humans. It’s so cute! While cats… they are so… aggressive.”

“So you don’t like cats?”

“Yeah. I mean, I respect cats. But I don’t think I’ll ever be friends with one.” Jin clarified.

The interviewer continues, “Is that so?”

She placed a picture on the table. Jin laughed hard. It was a picture of him and Francheskat, your grey Persian cat. He was carrying your cat on his shoulder, who was looking peacefully asleep like a baby. It was taken by a fan during the production of Lonely People in New York, where you begged your director to let Francheskat have a cameo in one of the scenes.

“Do you have any explanation for this photo?” the interviewer is obviously teasing him.

“The first question was a trap!” Jin giggled for a few seconds. When he calmed down, he continued, “Okay, Francheskat is a little fluff of sweetness. She is an exception.”

“Because?”

“Because it’s Francheskat.” Jin simply answered.

The interviewer did not bother to ask him for more elaboration on his answer. She read her cards again, “According to Y/N, Francheskat is a cat from an animal shelter in London. She said it was given to her as a gift by a friend back in 2017…”

Based on the buildup of the question, Jin already knows where this one leads. He had already read and heard tweets and articles about the upcoming question He tried to hide a smirk forming on his face.

“Are you the friend she was talking about?” the interviewer asked.

Without any missed second, Jin replied with a single shake of his head, “No, I’m not,”

As if the interviewer was expecting a response from Barry, she looked at the polygraph examiner. Jin did the same thing, carefully moving his eyes to the side. There was a five-second silence before Barry looked up again.

“He is telling the truth.”

Jin rolled his eyes and looked at the interviewer with a sassy ‘I told you so’ look and nod. The interviewer cleared her throat.

“For our last question–”

“Do you promise?” Jin cuts her off.

Confused, the interviewer said, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you promise it’s the final one?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied, still confused about why the actor asked that. “Proceeding. Was there any point that you lied in this interview and we did not catch you?”

“No.” he winked, causing more puzzlement. Even Barry was confused.

“Oh, what’s with the wink?” the interviewer asked as soon as she saw that.

“Not answering that one. You said the last question is your last one.” Jin mocked.

“Touché.”

The interviewer said. The clip ended with Jin smiling in a teasing way.

The new content was another reason for Jin to be talked about on Twitter. Fans of both Jin’s and yours– and even Francheskat’s– posted their thoughts after the video was uploaded. Your cat’s name trended as it was one of the most talked about and even replayed part of the said clip.

@/ACTORJINNN: jin baby blink twice if you’re scared of barry

@/bluemoon04: I still stand by the facts that support my theory. KIM SEOKJIN WAS THE ONE WHO GAVE FRANCHESKAT TO Y/N

replying to @/bluemoon04

– @/favecatmomy/n: the audience wants to know more about ur theory

—- @/bluemoon04: will be posting a thread soon bestie 🥰

@/francheskat_update: Francheskat was mentioned in Vanity Fair’s Jin Takes a Lie Detector Test video on YouTube. [insert YouTube link and screenshots]

@/y/nbestactress: jin talking about cats: 👹👺🤬💣🧨🔪 VS jin talking about francheskat: 🌸🌞🌈🥰💗🎀

@/elynextdoor: Just watched Jin’s lie detector test. Loved how he tricked the interviewer with his wink at the end 🤣🤣

@/seokjindrama: Not Jin denying that he can sing 🤡 as if we never heard him sing before

replying to @/seokjindrama

– @/alpacajin: omg where did u see him sing

—- @/jinnnstwt: donny posted on his ig stories years ago a snippet of jin’s singing when they were hanging out

A few days after the video was posted on YouTube, Jin is having a whole day of press junkets with his co-stars. It was absolutely exhausting as almost every interviewer asks the same question. Some are even overboard and personal. The cup of coffee in his right hand is the only one that keeps him going throughout this hectic day. He had a five-minute break before another interviewer comes in when his phone was handed to him by Daisy, his new assistant.

“Someone’s calling you,” she whispered.

Jin, who’s physically and mentally tired to talk with anyone, asked with a sigh, “Who is it?”

Daisy looks skeptical at reading the name at first, slightly scratching her head. She looked back and forth from him to his phone screen a couple of times. Finally, she read it, still unsure,

“Some weird… cat… person… Some weird cat person,” she repeated.

Jin tried to hide a smile forming on his face as he took a sip of his coffee. He thanked his assistant and answered the phone call. Luckily, everyone around him is too busy taking their own quick breaks to notice him taking a call.

“Hello?”

“I just watched that lie detector test video!” Your excited and happy voice was heard on the other line after Jin’s hello. “How was it? Was it scripted? Did the machine really work? Tell me about it!”

He smiled with your childish enthusiasm. You always expressed that you want to try such an interview ever since Vanity Fair began doing that. You never experienced being in a polygraph test before and you are really curious about it. Jin was ready to tell stories when he heard someone in the crew saying they have a few seconds left before an interviewer goes in again. He emptied his cup before speaking to you,

“I’m in the middle of a junket. How about I’ll call you later, bub?”

He heard you gasp, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. I forgot about that. I just woke up before watching your video. I’m sorry!”

Given that you are in your LA home and currently on a month-long break, Jin understands that you forgot about the time difference between your two. He’s in New York.

“It’s fine. I’ll call you later,” he assured you. Daisy was already waiting for him to hand his phone back.

“Okay, okay. By the way, Francheskat told me she misses you.”

He smiled before replying, “Yeah, tell her I miss her too.”

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS TAGLIST

@seolaquotes @fatimaaaaa129 @bangtannieshope @jub-jub @yoontaethings @kissme-ornot @dayyy-siii @sleepy-daydreams @veronawrites @cuteipat @stoop18 @ratherbefangirling @babystarcandy-gcf @akirawhore @alpacaparkaseok @rjsmochii

PERMANENT TAGLIST @dunixxd @cixrosie @moonchild1 @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @alpacaseoks

#actor!jin #bts jin #jin fluff #jin x reader #jin fic #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts crack #bts series #bts au #bts fanfic #bts drabble #the a listers ksj

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kiestrokes · 9 months

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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.

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flowerwrites06 · 3 months

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redeco — ksj

REDECO | Kim Seokjin | Drabble | Request or Original

Original Request: An au similar to mr and mrs smith, where both oc and seokjin hate fuck each other – anon Plot: Seokjin confronts his next target — his wife. Pairing: Spy!Seokjin x Spy!OC (Name: Akira) Genre: Spy | Marriage Type: Drabble Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: mainly smut as per request lol, explicit sexual content (rough, consensual slapping), violence, guns, fighting. Author’s Note: there's more smut than spy in this drabble but I had fun lmao it was refreshing to get a quick drabble out after the hectic couple of weeks. Hope you enjoy!

Bullets scattered all around the floor with the stench of gunpowder still lingering in the air. Their breathing ragged and a strange mix of anger, thrill and heartache shared between them.

Akira's reddened eyes stared back at him as the barrel of his gun pointed right at her forehead, which was pearled and shimmered with sweat. "Go on, you said so yourself you were precise and quick." Her voice was shaky and so was Seokjin's grip.

He was precise. Seokjin never hesitated and yet still his finger hovered over the trigger, testing life and death. Testing his own courage to do what he was trained to do. Akira didn't look frightened but it didn't change the ache in his chest. He hated it.

Everything about this was supposed to be easy. Seokjin had wanted her dead when she was just a name on a paper until he saw her face.

Akira scoffed with a chuckle. "Shoot me, asshole." She kept staring at him, barely blinking.

Seokjin could've asked her to look away but that would've been no less than a confession. That he didn't want her dead. That he wanted to clean everything up and be done with it. But something paused. And that was somehow strong enough to lower the gun.

Akira stared at the lowering gun with a grimace. "What the fuck are you doing?" she whispered.

"You do it, I won't." Seokjin placed his gun down on the table.

"Fucking shoot me, you won," Akira spoke through gritted teeth.

"And I'm retreating. I'm not shooting you," Seokjin said.

Akira’s lips quivered as her expression searched for some kind of lie, some kind of trick. She slapped him across the face. "Shoot me!"

"It's not happening," Seokjin said without reacting to her actions.

Akira grunted as she pushed him back. "You're a coward! All that talk for nothing." Tears formed little beads on her eyes but she kept staring at him with fire. She turned away with a sigh, running her fingers through her hair. "I hate you."

Seokjin swallowed thickly. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. You would've shot me if you did."

"Fuck you."

"Admit it." His palms pulsed from the stresses of the fight. "I don't hate you."

Akira let out a bitter chuckle.

Seokjin walked to her. A small part prepared for her to grab a knife from somewhere but his body still moved closer, taking the risk happily. He grabbed onto Akira's arm, pulling her in for a kiss. Their bodies still thrumming and hot from the fight but her lips still sweet and fragrant like she was fresh from a rose bath.

Akira cupped his cheek, one still warmed from her slap but the memory of it still stirred in Seokjin. He gripped her hair, pulling from the scalp until she groaned at the tightness.

Seokjin broke their kiss, pushing her against one of the end tables where the mirror next to him rested in its cracked form. He danced his tongue against hers.

Akira pulled at his belt, taking it off and using it to pull his hips closer to hers, grinding together until the heat was unbearable.

Seokjin took the belt and wrapped it around her neck, biting down her bottom lip.

Akira unbuttoned his pants, pushing his pants down with her shoes, letting the leather scratch down his thighs. Her warm hand held onto his cock, just barely brushing before grabbing on and pulling until he let out a grunt. She smiled in satisfaction before her kiss bruised lips parted in a light choke from Seokjin tightening the belt around her neck.

Seokjin released the belt, pulling her off the end table. Akira turned around and with a flow of ease, he bent her over, ripping the slit of her dress and draping it one side. Her buttocks round and plush, encouraging him to swing against the soft skin.

Akira gave a throaty giggle, swaying her hips.

He pushed aside her panties, prodding his fingers against her slit, sticky and hot against his skin. One foot pushed her legs apart.

Seokjin positioned his cock against her sodden cunt, pushing in without letting her adjust. He pistoned into her as the tightened tension of their fight moulded into a desperate pleasure. Anything to loosen the nerves built in the mess of their house.

He thrusted harder and faster, letting the end table bang against the wall as the shattered pieces of the mirror clanked and clinked onto the floor mixing in with Akira's moans.

Akira turned herself around, pulling him for another kiss before backing away from him towards the stairs.

Seokjin chuckled breathlessly, walking quickly and stopping her at the end of the stairs. He pushed her to sit with her legs apart. He knelt and latched his lips onto her cunt. Akira relished in the flurry of warm pleasure as she laid back on the stairs.

Akira threw her head back as he sucked on her clit, lapping his tongue like it was a sonnet piece he played for years. She gripped onto his hair, pushing him further against her core. As the pleasure tightened in her lower belly, her moans grew ragged.

Seokjin pulled his mouth away at the sound. He slid his cock back into her, fusing her with the stairs as he fucked her into the carpet.

Seokjin wrapped his hands around her neck, pressing just enough for Akira to let out a pleased moan. "You enjoyed slapping me a little, didn't you?" he asked in a husked voice.

With half-lidded lust blown eyes, Akira grinned. "A little."

Seokjin kept his cock deep inside her, shaping her insides just for him. Sweat beads formed at the ends of his hair. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip until Akira bit down on it playfully.

"You want to do it to me?" Akira asked in a sensuous whisper like a siren requesting his deepest, darkest desires.

It could've made him spill inside her there and then. But he slowed his thrusts with a shaky sigh, moving his thumb against her cheek.

"Do it," Akira said with a grin. "Unless you're a coward at that too."

Seokjin chuckled, raising his hand and swinging a slap against her face with a satisfying little bloom on her skin.

Akira laughed with a thrill, biting down her bottom lip. "Good boy."

Seokjin smiled, leaning in and kissing her gently as his thrusts grew merciless. Her whimpers vibrated against his skin, only making him move faster.

She broke from the kiss to catch her already ragged breathing, her insides hot and aching for release. Akira pressed her heels against his back, letting out near cries of pleasure. "Don't stop."

Seokjin felt like a fire, hot under his clothes as he kept a feverish rhythm on his thrusts, holding onto a stair to keep his balance as he felt Akira clench around him. "Are you coming, baby?" He cupped her cheek. "Yeah?"

Akira made a noise of agreement, reaching below to rub her clit. As the warm reaches of his orgasm began to flutter, Seokjin let out a throaty moan as he pistoned in and out of her. Following the fastened pace Akira's hand against her clit.

Then it burst. Hot and thick filling inside her as Seokjin muffled his moans against her shoulder, pressed close against her.

Akira's felt her own climax tremor through her like madness and sweetness. Her legs shook and she bit into the crook of his neck. She couldn't help but let out a trembling laugh, fuelled with ecstasy. She threw her head back, relaxing against the throes of her pleasures and highs.

Seokjin pushed himself up, watching Akira slowly move through her orgasm. In a small moment of soft heart, he reached in and kissed her cheek.

Akira smiled, cupping his neck. She lifted her head to kiss him properly.

"Wasn't this better than a gun fight?" Seokjin asked.

Akira chuckled. "Perhaps."

Seokjin got off her and rested next to her on the stairs. Niether of them able to move to their bed but it didn't matter.

Four knocks echoed against the front door.

“Akira?” It was one of their neighbours calling from the other side in a worried tone. “Is everything alright?”

A moment of silence between them. Then laughter.

“Any excuses on your belt?” Seokjin asked, still smiling.

Akira hummed in thought as her body felt too much like jelly to move. “Redecorating?”

Seokjin scoffed. “Yep. Sounds good.”

masterlist

#seokjin #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts smut #bts angst #bts spy au #spy au #bts drabbles

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

Text

the dogs of war | ksj

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre: politician au, lite enemies to lovers; crack, fluff

warnings: use of US political positions & terms, swearing, bickering, alcohol, a lot of bad jokes, unedited because i think i've kept these requests waiting long enough. if there's anything glaringly bad, though, lmk.

wordcount: 2.3k

had a few seokjin requests in my inbox from the valentine's day drabbles, so i decided to combine them into one fic:

bare — as they get undressed, the sender gently places a soft, tender kiss against the receiver’s bare shoulder.

"i really don't know if this is a yes."

"you need to stop doing that." / "do what?" / "that little eye thing you do when i walk into the room."

You’re not even sure what this gala is for.

The hospital? No, the last one (two?) had been for the hospital. Needed pretty, important people to dress up in pretty, expensive clothes to raise money for their new wing (board members’ salaries). You know it’s not for the police union, because you wouldn’t be caught dead at one of those, and you’re almost certain the gala for the animal shelter was the one you’d shown up late to last week.

So, yeah—you’re stumped.

Not that it really matters. You’ve fulfilled the requirements and paid the ticket price. Poured yourself into a dress that is, admittedly, a size too small; a dress you will probably have to cut yourself out of later on. Got your hair and makeup and nails done real nice. Rented jewelry three times your annual salary. There isn’t a person in this place that has taken dress pretty, look prettier more seriously than you.

Well, until.

“You need to stop doing that.”

You roll your eyes. Pluck a flute of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and down it in one go. “Stop doing what?”

“That little eye thing you do when I walk into the room,” Seokjin answers, crooked fingers moving to work at his stupid bowtie. “You can’t possibly expect to be the best-looking person in every room, especially when we’re forced to attend the same events.”

You huff. Privately, because you’d be better off dying than letting Seokjin know he’s successful at getting under your skin. “I can and I do.”

“Well, we all have a tragic flaw.”

“What’s yours, then?”

“Let me rephrase: most of us have a tragic flaw. Not me, though.”

There’s still forty minutes until dinner. Forty minutes until you will once again be forced to sit next to Seokjin and watch as he effortlessly charms the entire table. Watch as people foolishly trip over themselves to get on his good side, laughing at his stupid jokes, complimenting his perfectly-styled hair and his flawless skin and his suits that cost far too much money for a person who claims to be a socialist.

“I’m voting no on your most recent proposal, by the way. Figured I’d get that out of the way early.”

Seokjin sputters, chokes on a hors d'oeuvre someone had probably bent over backwards to hand-deliver to him on a little plate. “What? Why? I specifically wrote in all those stupid provisions you requested.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Fuck you,” he whispers, “I spent months—”

“That’s politics, baby.”

“You’re gonna be the only one,” he accuses, borderline seething, as if you don’t already know this. “Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok are finally on board, so you’re gonna be the lone dissenter. Might be really embarrassing for you.”

“It won’t be,” you assure him. You might be petty and spiteful (you are in politics, after all) but you’re not an idiot (you are in politics, after all, so maybe that’s not true). “Section nine, subsection twelve. That’s my get out of jail free card.”

“That’s the proposed redistricting map. The one you wanted.”

You offer up a smile, pinch at Seokjin’s cheek. “Exactly, and you spelled one of my town’s names wrong. Therefore, I cannot, in good conscience, vote for it. What would my constituents say?”

“You’re tanking this entire thing over a typo? I’ll call Namjoon right now and have him fix it.”

“The Namjoon that’s currently at the open bar going shot-for-shot with Jimin? Looks a little green? Good luck. At least I hired a Chief of Staff who can hold their liquor.”

Steam practically pours out of his ears. He certainly looks to be on the verge of a mental break, what with the angry flush that’s taken over his entire upper body. “Have you forgotten we’re on the same side here? What happened to party loyalty?”

“Oh, Seokjinnie,” you intone, “there’s no loyalty in gerrymandering.”

He scoffs. Grabs so forcefully at his own flute of champagne that he knocks the poor waiter completely off-center. Now he has no flutes of champagne and the floor has ten.

If looks could kill, this would be your funeral instead of whatever this gala is for.

As luck would have it, you do get seated next to Seokjin.

He’s usually the life of the party. Is usually cracking jokes left and right, wrapping every laterally-important person around his finger. He’s always the first person everyone looks to for a reaction—if he laughs, it’s all good; if his jaw clenches, everyone treads lightly. Either his phone or his checkbook is always out, but tonight there’s nothing more than the proverbial storm cloud over his head.

“I worked on that for months,” he tells you for the fifth time in the span of an hour. “I cannot believe you.”

You take a delicate bite of your dinner. Smile for the camera that leaves stars behind your eyes when the flash goes off. “Uh-huh.”

“This is just so typical,” he continues, seemingly uncaring who can hear him. “I bend over backwards to give you whatever you want, and you stab me in the back the first chance you get. You’re no better than the Roman senate.”

“You want me to start calling you Seok-julius? I’ll be honest, it sounds pretty bad, but if that’s what you’re into...”

“Fuck you,” he says again. “You’re a traitor of the highest degree.”

Jimin shoots you a concerned look. You respond with a roll of your eyes and mime throwing back a drink. Jimin responds with an eye-roll of his own, jerking his head in Namjoon’s direction, then he nods. Him, too, he mouths, then promptly turns his attention back to the older woman beside him whose husband is the head of some important committee. Thank god Jimin’s here to do all your schmoozing for you (and that he can hold his liquor).

“You’re the worst.”

“Okay, Seokjin.”

“I’m getting another drink. Do you want anything?” You stare at him in disbelief, blinking slowly. “I don’t know if that’s a yes.”

“It definitely isn’t. Haven’t you drank enough?”

“No,” comes his immediate response. “My current level of inebriation is disproportionate to the amount of suffering you have bestowed upon me this evening.”

“I don’t know if that’s true. Your eyes are all glassy and your face is really red. I’ve certainly retaken the lead in the best-looking contest—”

“You are insufferable.” Then, because the alcohol has loosened his lips and he can’t seem to help himself, he says, “You are always the best-looking person in any room. Fuck, I need another drink. Namjoonie, get me another drink, please. I regret to inform you I am, in fact, too drunk to leave this table.”

Inexplicably, Namjoon looks at you. Looks like a deer in headlights, but turns to you nonetheless, and you feel your jaw drop. “No,” you tell him, “I’m not dealing with him. He’s your chief.”

“But it’s your fault he’s this drunk,” Namjoon argues, because he’s a shithead who majored in pre-law in undergrad. “He won’t make it to the big speech, at this rate.”

“What are you, five? Then take him home,” you hiss. This is rapidly spiraling out of control. Seokjin, at Level Zero Inebriation, would never compliment you, so he must be very far gone to concede the best-looking title to you.

It makes your stomach hurt.

Jimin’s still busy charming the pants off the committee wife. Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok are deep in conversation and only loyal to one another, so they’ll be no help. You could probably wrestle Seokjin’s phone out of his hands to call one of his lesser staff members, perhaps his driver, but he’d almost certainly cause a scene. Start squawking at you in that tone of his that’s liable to break sound barriers, and that’s the last thing you need.

So, with all the decorum you can muster, you shove the last forkful of risotto in your mouth and fire off a text to your own driver.

Ten minutes, comes the response.

You show the text to Jimin, who merely nods and tells you good luck. You hate that you’re going to need it.

You don’t know how much Seokjin weighs, but you’re certain eighty-percent of it is in his shoulders.

Thankfully Jungkook, your driver, is much more buff and far less considerate than you are, because he’d just thrown Seokjin over his shoulder and deposited him on your couch, uncaring of his protests and warnings of impending vomit.

“Not my house, not my problem,” was his response.

“Wow, rude,” was yours.

Before anything else, you fetch a bucket and a sleeve of crackers. “Eat up,” you tell Seokjin, who unsurprisingly gives you the finger in turn. “Very mature. Don’t forget you’re only here as the result of your own actions.”

Seokjin mimics you under his breath, and you have half a mind to dump a glass of water on him. But he looks so… helpless. Simultaneously green in the face and pale, looking far from the man with the million-dollar skincare routine; suit rumpled, jacket thrown carelessly over the arm of the couch, shoes untied but still on his feet. You don’t have any pets because you’re never home and are woefully inept of taking care of anything, but something about Seokjin in this moment kicks some long-forgotten nurturing gene into high gear.

So you fetch some water and a blanket. Busy yourself making coffee, because it’s not even nine p.m. and you’re usually never home before midnight, let alone tucked into bed. And those stupid gala entrees are small, so you rummage through your kitchen for something to snack on.

“Did you make enough coffee for two?” you hear from the living room.

“Yeah,” you call back. “How do you take it?”

“Preferably not from my sworn enemy’s kitchen, but I suppose I’ll have to make an exception.”

“I’m gonna spit in it,” you tell him. An overexaggerated gag comes from his direction.

“Never mind. Can I take a shower?”

If you thought getting him out of the car and in the front door had been difficult, it’s nothing compared to helping him into the shower.

Which you shouldn’t even be doing, considering he’s insistent on not showering in his briefs but also isn’t capable of undressing himself, so it all feels clandestine. Now the two of you are crammed in the bathroom attached to the guest room—the one with the bog standard shampoo and conditioner and body wash, because you don’t trust Seokjin not to pour all your expensive stuff down the drain out of spite.

“Help me help you,” you beg, righting him for the nth time. It’s those goddamn shoulders of his. He’s too top-heavy; makes him susceptible to tipping over sideways into the wall.

“Can’t,” he responds. Barely manages to pop the button on his suit pants before he tips into the wall again.

A frustrated groan escapes you. You’ll never get him into the shower at this rate, and you really want to eat that snack. Not to mention the coffee’s going to get all bitter and gross if you leave it in the carafe too long. “You’re really inconveniencing me, you know that?”

“Sorry.”

You huff, turn him forcefully so he’s facing you. Start working at the buttons of his dress shirt. Tom Ford. Black silk. Probably cost a fortune, because it’s also been perfectly tailored to accentuate his waist, which is… not great for your mental well-being. Doesn’t help that his heady cologne is still stubbornly clinging onto the fabric.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” he answers. “I say a lot of things. Don’t usually mean most of them, no.”

“Definitely a politician, then.”

He sighs. Tips his head back, puts that horrible neck on full display. You cover your whimper with a cough. “I thought it best not to fight the inevitable,” he says. “I’m charming. People want to give me things. Might as well use my powers for good.”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply distractedly. Only three buttons left. Thank god he’s wearing an undershirt. “Makes sense.”

“Well, I try to. Hard to do that when someone votes against the proposals I’ve spent months drafting.”

“Uh-huh. Hey, turn around, I think your shirt’s caught on something in the back.”

Seokjin obliges. Blocks your view of your bathroom with his giant shoulders. You’re so glad he can’t see the look on your face, because it’s already pretty pathetic, but then he says, “I did mean what I said, though. About you.” He clears his throat, the flush creeping up his neck again. “Being pretty.”

Your hands tremble as you get his shirt unstuck. As you untuck it from his pants and push it off his shoulders. As you fold it carefully and place it on the counter. As you see a scar on his shoulder and trace your fingers over it. “What’s this from?”

“Assassination attempt,” Seokjin deadpans.

“Can’t imagine why anyone would want to murder you.”

“Me neither.” Then, quieter: “Got it when I fell out of a tree.”

“How old were you?”

“Nineteen.”

You snort your laughter, feeling a little brave with Seokjin’s back to you. “You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, and when he nods again, you throw caution to the wind entirely.

Press onto the tips of your toes. Press a soft kiss to the scar on Seokjin’s shoulder. Smile again at the soft gasp that escapes him, the way he tips over again and expects to bang into the wall, except you’ve turned him all around so there’s nothing to catch him. He tries grabbing onto the shower curtain but it’s hopeless, so he goes toppling into the tub.

“You’re really falling for me, huh?” you ask, extending your hand to help him up. He’s groaning in pain, but he takes it anyway, pulling you in with him. Can’t say you didn’t expect it. Seokjin’s a shithead before he’s anything else.

His arms snake around your waist immediately. “If I say yes, will you change your vote on my proposal?”

“I guess we’ll see.”

#seokjin x you #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #seokjin imagine #seokjin drabble #vday drabbles

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taegularities · 1 year

Text

evermore | ot7 | masterlist (m)

“And when I was shipwrecked, I thought of you. In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you.”

Tales of love as emotions fall apart and grow; vanish and reappear; laced with pain and unadulterated devotion. Friendships, affairs and realisations always linger – now and forevermore.

➳ pairing(s): member x female reader

➳ rating: 18+

➳ genre: slice of life; fluff, angst, smut

➳ status: ongoing

➳ current word count: will be added as we go!

MAIN MASTERLIST | WIPS

if walls could talk | knj

Namjoon’s poisonous looks have been piercing you since the day you were introduced to him – by now, everyone knows about the distaste you harbour for each other. If only they knew about the secrets veiled behind your frowns, too.

» pairing: producer!namjoon x reader

» genre: enemies to lovers; fluff, smut, crack

» read here!

downbeat | pjm

At first, it’s just your voice and the singing sessions online. Then, there are pictures of tender eyes and a fond smile. And when renowned vocal coach Park Jimin meets you face to face, you sweep him off his feet with more than just the melodies you sing.

» pairing: vocal coach!jimin x reader

» genre: strangers to lovers; fluff, smut

» read here!

melodrama | ksj

When you met him first, love gained a new, mesmerising meaning; dizzying emotions you couldn’t quite fathom. When did those sparks fade? When did you start disappearing? For the life of him, he can’t remember – but you think you can.

» pairing: actor!seokjin x reader

» genre: marriage au; angst, fluff, smut

» read here!

paramour | jhs

Hoseok is lucky enough to enjoy every moment of his existence on and off stage. Money, fame, looks – when they say a rockstar truly has it all, they mean it. And then there’s you, the softest spot in his life, plagued by insecurities when the world starts barging into your relationship.

» pairing: rockstar!hoseok x reader

» genre: established/secret relationship; angst, fluff, smut, crack

» read here: pt1 | pt2

cotton candy | kth

Friendships tend to fall apart. The first love fades, people walk away, breezy summers pass within a fleeting moment. Kim Taehyung however – he never does. His cotton candy touch, the late night summer hugs... your feelings for him linger, no matter how much your lives change and shift.

» pairing: photographer/model!tae x reader

» genre: 90s au, childhood friends to lovers; angst, fluff, smut

» read here!

run like a river | myg

The days of him being a worldwide star might have battered his soul, but he’s finally back home again. And you? Still here; still as enchanting as ever.

» pairing: retired artist!yoongi x reader

» genre: exes to lovers; angst, fluff, smut

» read here!

timbre | jjk

You carve your name into Jungkook's mind with constant affection and care, and he keeps hoping that both your hearts beat in unison, synchronised and wild. But in reality, it’s only ever him who falls – you're as still as time... until, you're not.

» pairing: singer!jungkook x reader

» genre: best friends to lovers; angst, fluff, smut

» read here: pt1 | pt2 | pt3

–

✒︎ join the taglist! ♡

© 2023 taegularities. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story properly. – Support me by reblogging! 🤍 Questions about any of those? Or just wanna talk? Come, let’s yell <3

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jooniperbonsai · 2 months

Text

Thanks for the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Three

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

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 14.9k

Release date: March 24, 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 that Seokjin has agreed to come over and help you practice for your streams, you find there's a lot more you want to do with him than actually prepare for this stream.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety and panic attacks HEAVILY referenced in this chapter, familial verbal and emotional abuse that might be triggering to some (slamming of doors, manipulative behaviors), references to puberty, implied chubby/fat reader, references to disordered eating (not main characters), references to oral (f), mention of sub drop, Seokjin is STRONG and the king of consent, lots of little domestic moments idk let's hope I didn't forget anything

a/n: Ahh finally, I'm so sorry it took so long to get to you. I have been very busy in my little corner of reality so I haven't had a chance to really dive back in for a while. I hope you enjoy more of the backstory to the characters in this one, I found pulling away from the spicy bits a little necessary so I could learn more about my characters as they grow.

I'll be in South Korea these next few weeks for my birthday, so I might be mostly offline but I'll enjoy looking at your comments, tags, questions, etc, while I'm away! Thanks for your patience. Enjoy! -h

This, she thinks, is goodbye. Her body sprawled in the silk sheets of August’s chamber, head thrust back onto the plush pillows. Never again in her life did she think she would see the dark beams of his ceiling again, yet now, her legs bent and open for him, his lips eagerly suckling her inner thigh, she couldn’t imagine life any other way.

How many times had she counted each knot in the wood above her, her eyes tracing the swirl and swell of the grain while August swirled the swell of her sex? Perfectly matched in this way, as if he were reading her like a map he’d crafted himself. He knew her. Knew all of her, how the heady moan leaving her throat now was a sign she was becoming impatient with his thorough ministrations.

She dared to risk a glance down, only to see him watching her intently, devilishly choosing that moment to latch himself onto her, a wicked smirk flashing across his face as she elicited a hearty gasp.

“August,” she breathed, instinctively tangling her fingers through his newly-raven hair, dyed dark now to comply with his family’s request. While his once-bleached locks were the definite sign of his rebellion, a sign that he would fight against the ruling state and their convoluted and asinine laws that prevented royalty from marrying a commoner, she admitted his natural hair suited him more. He looked less harsh this way, his delicate skin creamy and soft as she skimmed her fingertips across his cheek.

“No,” he breathed into her sex, sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

Something about the glint in his eye as he feasted upon her spelled out more than simple lust. No, she forbade herself to think that this was more than a parting gift, a transaction before she would be cast aside for his betrothed.

“Please,” she begged, though she knew she was asking for many things in that request. Please end the hunger between her legs, please end his engagement. Please take her to bed tonight and tomorrow and every night after. Please love me.

“Say my name,” he growled, sitting up to wipe his mouth with the back of his robe sleeve.

“August,” she called but he only chuckled darkly, the cool blue of the fabric cascading around him.

She felt so exposed. Here she was, completely naked, and yet he hadn’t even begun to undress. It felt cold, final, and sickening. Her eyes roved his body, looking for more skin, anything to keep her close to him at this moment, but he was so carefully tucked away.

“August,” she said again and he shook his head.

“That’s not my name,” he argued.

Her eyebrows knit together, and she reached forward, needing now more than ever to touch him. She was drowning fast in the night, the blue robes sweeping over both their bodies as he leaned closer, finally letting her grip his forearm as she groped around. He was drifting from her in one way or another, his body a boat on the water that was capsizing her under his waves.

“I–I can’t. I can’t see you. I–.” A rush of white hot panic surged into her throat, constricting her words. As she began drowning, August moved quickly, disrobing himself and pulling her into his embrace. She gasped for air as she wrenched out a heavy sob, her nipples stroking the soft hairs on his chest, yet she ignored the sensation instead for the thing she needed more: his heartbeat.

There, in his chest, was the melodic thrum that sought to calm her erratic one, calling her home to him in the cold night air.

“Breathe, Petal,” he commanded, and she felt a rush of air fall from her lungs as she remembered once more to do the most simple of human tendencies. His arms laced around her back, where the soft tracing of his fingers along her spine brought her back into herself.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, a prick of tears falling despite her best efforts to appear unaffected.

He hummed in response.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, and she felt her joints loosen as she molded herself further into his embrace.

“I want to,” she replied, voice unsteady. “Sugar, please just hold me.”

He melted into her, a pool of warmth overtaking him as he absorbed her nickname. He kissed her forehead, her temples, everywhere his mouth could spread some of the sweetness.

After long, she hummed a satisfied sound through her lips, and her hips began rocking against him. He laid her back down, his eyes searching hers before the corner of his mouth ticked into a smirk.

“You with me?” he asked, his smirk becoming a full grin as she bucked further toward him, desperate and wanting. He was back, the ever-changing prince who within a blink of an eye could transform the room into his sensual paradise.

August’s hand skimmed up her calf and back between her thighs, resting up against her heat.

“August,” she panted, and he chuckled darkly, the scar over his eye almost glowing in the moonlight.

“I told you that’s not my name,” he warned, sliding his fingers into her wet folds.

“Seokjin,” you said, his name caught in your throat as he continued moving.

“Good girl,” he coaxed, two of his fingers covering the edges of your clit as he began rolling it under his touch.

“Fuck.”

The wooden beams were gone. Now it was the familiar white plaster that you often looked at, trying to remember what constellations were above during what season, though you could never see the stars anyway in this part of the city.

Seokjin pulled himself up off the chamber bed, though the chamber was hazy, almost pixelated as you realized around you it was not the chamber of August and his beloved, but your small bedroom.

“Focus,” he commanded, and your eyes flashed over to Seokjin, who was naked and sweaty, his chest flush like it was when you’d seen him before. His fingers roamed over your calf and he lifted you leg at an angle, exposing your pussy to the cool air.

Seokjin licked his lips and began swirling his fingers around your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“You gonna be good for me?” he asked and you moaned an affirmative as you felt the first of his fingers tip into you.

“Nuh uh, use your words, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to beg but found no words could come out. He cocked his head, confused. Seokjin reached over to touch your face. You felt nothing.

“What–”

The plop of the book hitting the floor jars you awake. At some point in reading, you must’ve dozed off, your world and the book world merging into a hot, overwhelming dream that has your heart racing.

He’s in your mind again, Seokjin. And it really is all your fault. Because you’ve spent the rest of your weekend and the first half of this week texting him with a plan to put this After Dark stream into place, an idea that you hadn’t really thought through before proposing to him.

You know you want this, to feel at ease in your body and confident to hold your own on streams. Especially since the option to quit is becoming less and less of an option. This week, your university confirmed your withdrawal, meaning that for the next few months you’ll be focusing on streaming and working more shifts at the restaurant to try and replenish your income for the summer term.

And that also means you’ll be seeing Seokjin a lot more often. Your stomach does a tiny flip just thinking about it.

Now with him being around you everywhere, all the time, your subconscious has been drifting to dreams of him, and every waking thought is somehow finding a way to wiggle him in. At the market this morning, you were walking through the produce section where you noticed a large pile of mangoes on sale. Does Seokjin like mangoes? you’d wondered. That shirt on the mannequin would look good on Seokjin. That dog looks like the one in the old picture in Seokjin’s office. What would Seokjin think about this recurring ad?

It’s becoming relentless. So much so that you also find yourself asking him random questions to take the edge off.

Me 1:47PM: Thoughts about fruit on pizza.

Seokjin 1:50PM: Are you asking because we are having pizza later?

Me 1:51PM: No I was just wondering

Me 1:51PM: Unless you want that later? I can get us some

Me 1:51PM: I’ll pay

Seokjin 1:51PM: No you will not! I’ll pay

Seokjin 1:53PM: Also depends on the kind of fruit

Seokjin 1:53PM: Never had blueberries on pizza.

Seokjin 1:54PM: But I would maybe try it. Pineapple is fine though.

Seokjin 1:55PM: I’ll pick up the pizza on the way over. Be there at 6.

Seokjin agreed to stop by today to do some roleplay exercises for you to practice before your stream later tonight. He thought it was important that you run through the full scale of situations you might be presented with so you could say no firmly but without risking losing your viewership, two things equally at odds with each other for you most of the time.

You look for your phone in the mess of your couch cushions, assuming that at some point in your impromptu nap, it slunk down between the crack. Sure enough, you find it nestled between two cushions, the comfort of its weight in your hand dismissing some of the panic when you see it’s only 4:30. He hasn’t texted, which means he hasn’t canceled.

You remember from his stream last week that he maintains a tempered persona, never giving too much or too little away to his viewers. He’d exuded such self control. Is he always like that?

You know he mostly keeps it together at work, but that amount of restraint shocks you. You’re always wondering what it is that will make him snap. Sure, you’ve seen him annoyed, or occasionally yelling at your coworkers, but never rageful. Never out of control. That just isn’t Seokjin.

Determined to keep your hands busy while you wait for him to arrive, you busy yourself tidying, though your apartment is scarily clear because you’ve been frantically cleaning all day. You walk into the kitchen, a small, narrow room that has never been very welcoming as a cooking space. Your old, banged up fridge has dents from where the door has opened too quickly and rocketed into the oven handle, leaving a jagged, metal scar on the surface.

When you’d first moved in, you didn’t understand how something could be so damaged, but within the first week, it became apparent how heavy and quickly the door swung into it, probably because the floors, and thus everything else, doesn’t sit exactly level in the space, meaning that everything that you bake comes out at an angle, and everything else always falls to one side of the pan, making things uneven. Every time you use your rolling pin, you have to place it on an oven mitt or else you risk it rolling into the large gap between the countertop and the wall.

Your apartment is one that you’ve done your best to uplift. While your kitchen is somewhat of a hellhole, with a buzzing fluorescent light that sounds almost like it’s mocking you when you dare to cook anything in it, the rest of your space has some sense of charm to it.

There’s a large window facing the back parking lot of the building, which some may find less exciting because it isn’t exuding some Instagram-worthy backdrop of urban living, but you benefit from the fact that there’s a large, undeveloped lot in your view, with some plum trees that will bloom in the next few weeks, and the soft chartreuse green that ushers in the early spring grasses is slowly starting to brighten in hue.

Some summer nights, you crack your window and hear the loud chattering of cicadas and birds as they rustle through the trees, and it helps to distract from the usual traffic noises that ricochet off the other buildings around you.

You have some small herbs growing on the windowsill, as well as some salvaged green onion ends you’d tossed into an empty yogurt pot with soil and let take off. A sad excuse for a dining table is propped against it with two mismatched chairs.

An oversized, well-loved, brown couch you got for a steal from one of those local posting groups takes up a large chunk of your living room, which will probably have to be sawed in half to get out of your space if you ever move. It weighs a ton and you can’t even shuffle it into a better angle toward your television, which has resulted in one side of the couch being further worn-down and frumpy from the creases of you sitting in the same spot day after day. The other side usually houses a variety of character plushies and a large pink knit blanket you swaddle yourself in regularly. Today, everything is given a place, and the blanket is folded and resting on the back of the couch.

The rest of your apartment is a collection of stuff: some mismatched bookshelves shoved into one corner with all your smutty reads and figurines, postcards and repurposed mailers you’ve collaged into some type of wall art, and Barry, your Big Mouth Bass that knows one song and one song only: “Take Me to the River”.

Due to your lack of space in your cozy apartment, your desk and gaming set-up are in your room. During streams, you tote out a collapsible green screen to give yourself at least some privacy, but behind the screen is your bed you’ve cluttered with some throw pillows, a dresser whose drawers are so warped they don’t fully close, the nightstand which hides your collection of sex toys, and that’s about it. As the months have progressed, your schoolwork has moved from being the main event on the desk to now being crammed into the shallow drawers beneath. Beyond that, your PC and streaming supplies take up the rest of the space in your room.

After fussing with everything for a whole ten minutes, you retreat from your bedroom, heading into the hellscape kitchen to stare at the groceries you’ve just bought.

A jar of kimchi, some beets, and a comically large bag of carrots you impulse bought greet you. You sigh. Yes, this is what you’ll have to do to make time pass. Pulling the items from the fridge, you shuffle around to gather your cutting board from its slot next to the microwave, and find your good knife set in the drawer.

One of the conditions you were given upon being hired at the restaurant was to purchase your own set of knives. “It teaches you how to respect the tools before you. Having pride in your knives ensures you’ll serve food with pride,” Mr. Kim had told you.

When you shared that knowledge with Seokjin he snorted. “It ensures you’ll not damage our own knives that he’s too cheap to replace is what he means.”

Regardless, you now own a decent quality set of cutting knives, perfect for what you need them for. You scrub and lightly peel the carrots to trim away the dirt and uneven shapes adorning the outside.

Then, you begin your setup, placing your cutting board with a kitchen towel near the end to catch any rollaway carrots you’re bound to encounter during your task. You snag a large bowl, a rubber jar grip to keep the cutting board in place, and your Chef’s knife from your knife set. You chop up the kimchi and beets, doing a tiny bit of prep by cutting those for later in the week. Then, you begin with the carrots.

You pull from the washed pile and grip your knife, and remember what Seokjin taught you: cut the rounded edge off the carrot so it sits flat on the board. You slice again, then again, stacking the pieces before cutting in the next direction until a pile of neat matchsticks lay before you.

No chaos erupting in the kitchen, no pieces flinging to the floor or a semi-concussion. Just you, the yellow glow of the humming light, and your carrots. You begin the next one. Then again. It’s almost addicting, like the affirmation that you are capable of this, of anything, has started to warm something inside of you.

When was the last time you felt this confident and assured? Felt like you were growing in the right direction? In school, you were used to doing fairly well and understanding the material, but this is different somehow. This is you seeing the results as they pile higher into the bowl. You reach for another and another, washing the rest of the carrots and scrubbing them before continuing. Your hands are now properly stained, the beet juice, gochugaru, and carrot juice making your hands look like you are bleeding, but you don’t care. The ache from your grip, the loud thumping at the door, they don’t mean anything in this moment when it’s you feeling the give of the vegetable as it splits into finer pieces.

“Y/N?!! HELLO ARE YOU OKAY?”

A familiar voice bellows from the hall, another sharp thunk hitting the metal door. Seokjin.

Your eyes rip to the clock on the oven. It’s already five minutes past six. You’ve been cutting carrots for about an hour.

Hastily, you rinse your hands, ignoring the sting as the cold water spurts from the faucet. You grab the kitchen towel off the oven handle, and rush to the door.

You barely have it unlocked before Seokjin barges in, two large pizza boxes and a six pack of beer in his hands as he steps over the threshold. He smells faintly of mint and eucalyptus.

Seokjin whips in your direction, scanning his eyes over your face and down your body.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” His eyes are wide, his pupils blown out as he fervently looks you up and down, gasping as he takes in your hands. “What happened?”

“What? No, no I’m fine!” You hold one hand up in his direction, taking the kitchen towel and rubbing it into your palm for good measure. “They’re stained. Um, I was cutting vegetables.”

His eyes flit to the direction of the kitchen, where the light is still on and buzzing, and you can just make out the chopping board on the counter. Now assured you’re not injured, Seokjin recovers, stepping out of his shoes and padding into the kitchen.

“Whoa, you really were going to town in here with the carrots weren’t you? I thought I could smell it on you.”

Your cheeks flood with heat. “Well, you said I had to practice.”

Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head in amusement before holding up the six pack. “Uh, I brought beer. I don’t know if you like it or not but I feel like it goes really well with pizza.”

You smile. “I’m not sure if getting me wasted is the solution to setting boundaries with my stream. Doesn’t alcohol lower your inhibitions?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you planning on finishing off this entire six pack by yourself and getting trashed? Much less beer that is…” He squints at the packaging. “...four percent alcohol?”

You laugh. “No, I suppose not. Thank you.” You take the case from his hands and pluck two bottles from the cardboard before putting the rest in the fridge. Holding the cold bottle in your hands, you grimace.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like this brand?” Seokjin asks.

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that. Um, I don’t really drink often so I don’t actually own a bottle opener.”

Seokjin frowns and looks around your kitchen, grazing his hand along the chipped laminate counters. Then he takes the bottle in his hand and whacks it down on the counter edge on an angle. The cap pops off, a subtle wisp of fog puffing from the top. He smirks, proud. He gestures for you to hand him your bottle.

With ease, he pops off the second cap and deposits it back into your hands.

Your jaw hangs slack. “Wh-how did you do that?” you ask.

He chuckles. “There’s a science to it, angles. I’m just glad I didn’t take a chunk of the counter with me. I’ve done that before.”

“And you risked my counter top just now?”

He snorts. “Come on, did anything happen? A little bit of trust would be nice, Y/N.” He glances at the giant bowl of cut carrots. “Well, you’ve certainly improved. What are you going to make with all those?”

You pull your lips into a thin line. You hadn’t thought about it. Your silence seems to tip Seokjin off to that as well, because after a sip of beer, he sets his bottle on the back end of the counter, rolling up his sleeves and scooting over to the sink to wash his hands.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Cooking,” he replies simply. “Do you have flour? Green onions?”

You nod. “Okay, get those. I’ll also need some soybean paste if you have it, vegetable oil, salt, and sugar.”

You furrow your brows. You know this recipe from the restaurant. “You’re making jeon? But, we already have pizza.”

“We can have the pizza as an appetizer. Jeon will be the main course.”

You laugh. “How much do you think I eat?”

“Not much. But you see, I am very hungry.” Heat shoots to your core. You glance over at Seokjin, who is looking at you amused as he squeezes the carrots between his hands to wring out the excess juice.

You didn’t really notice before, but Seokjin looks effortlessly cool, a loose pink linen button down framing his broad shoulders. He’s left the top two buttons undone, exposing the white t-shirt he wears underneath. Lighter wash jeans cover his strong thighs. If a stranger ever passed him on the street, they might think he’s too cool for them, too serious or vain.

But, there are notes of him everywhere in this outfit that suggests the break in the persona. One of the buttons in the middle of his shirt has popped open, a few hairs on the back of his head are cowlicked out of place, and on his feet are a pair of neon green Chikorita Pokemon socks. You find it impossible to hide your amusement.

“Ah, got it. Nice socks by the way,” you joke, trying to distract from the singing heat and close proximity. You can’t help but think about the last time you and Seokjin were in such confined spaces and how that ended up. “Didn’t know you were going to use your feet later to guide an airplane into landing.”

“Well, I figured it was a necessary backup in case your hands weren’t bright enough.” He nods toward you. You laugh.

“Touché.”

You open your upper cabinet. The paper bag of flour sits on the middle shelf, which you usually climb onto the counter to reach, but with Seokjin in the kitchen, there’s even less space than usual. You stretch, lifting onto your tiptoes. Your fingertips brush the bag, but it’s not enough to move it. As you try to angle yourself better, you see two large hands come above yours, Seokjin easily grabbing the flour off the shelf to set down onto the counter.

You feel his body heat behind you, his shirt brushing the small of your back from where your own rode up during your stretch, and a swell of goosebumps rise on your arms from the gentle tickle.

“There,” Seokjin says softly into your ear, almost breathless. “Don’t want to have any more kitchen related incidents, do we?” Too soon, he moves away, his warmth, the subtle note of his cologne fading into the smell of the green onions he’s set next to your not-so-glorious prep space.

Suddenly, he scoffs. You turn toward him. “What?”

“Really, Y/N? Have you learned nothing?” The heat in your core immediately dissipates, welcoming a familiar sour stroke of shame as you try to put together what you’ve missed. How did you fuck this up? What haven’t you learned? When you focus on what he’s pointing at, you realize he isn’t angry. He’s teasing you.

Your knife is unsheathed on the cutting board, abandoned in your haste to let him in. “When are you ever going to learn basic kitchen safety?” he laughs. The prick of embarrassment dissolves, Seokjin’s laugh soothing the ache.

You smile and shrug. “In my defense, I didn’t have the time to put it away or in the sink because you were disturbing the peace by practically breaking my door down.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Well excuse me for wanting to ensure your safety. Now where’s that soybean paste?”

Seokjin had been sitting on, or practically in your couch for the last twenty minutes as you ran through various scenarios and questions you were likely to experience while streaming. Your old couch was comfy, but as you’d practiced longer, he felt he was shrinking, the cushions settling further and further down. That, he thought, was probably going to hurt to climb out when the time came.

Despite the size and outdated condition your apartment was in, he was fascinated with how you’d chosen to decorate it, as if everything had its own place. You had an impressive collection of colorful books on a bookshelf, framed in with little knick-knacks and figurines of your favorite characters or collectibles. One large sunny window was decorated with stickers that acted as prisms, sending rainbow beams across your floor at a certain point in the day. A photo of a very young you and two people he assumed were your parents leaning against a guard rail over a canyon was framed and hung next to a giant plastic fish.

No, you didn’t have much. It was clear you’d thrifted or trash picked most of the furniture in your apartment, with the exception of your computer setup. You’d taken him into your bedroom to show him what system you used, how you’d built your system based on the specifications of your mod, who Seokjin now knew, was also your best friend Wonwoo.

But Seokjin couldn’t help but revel in how well cared for and cozy this small place was, so different from the cold floors of his own apartment. It reminded him of the tiny place he used to live in with his parents. It was familiar, safe.

When he’d come in, he did worry something was wrong. You weren’t one to not answer, attentive in the restaurant to everyone, often whipping your head in someone’s direction the second you heard the first sound of your name slip through someone’s lips. When you didn’t answer, he’d wondered if you’d been injured or worse. As much as he tried not to judge your building, he was a little concerned about the safety precautions put in place. He’d walked straight in, no lock on the front door, no door man. Everyone’s names were blatantly listed on their mailboxes. If anyone wanted to find you, it wouldn’t be hard to do so.

But you were fine, and the acrid worry that had bloomed in him during those five minutes of you not answering had dissolved once he saw your bright smile, and the even brighter colored stains on your hands.

They were still blotchy, though a few runs under the sink with dish soap was helping them fade. As you feathered a hand through your hair, he found himself grinning. The fact that you had acquired a bulk bag of carrots and used them for practice was so endearing to him. He never doubted your dedication to work, but the fact that you were using the techniques he taught you in your kitchen had brightened something in Seokjin he hadn’t even known felt dark.

And he also couldn’t ignore the sense of pride he had as you practically moaned into the jeon you two had made together, the crispy texture and roll of hot oil over your tongue invoking something in you Seokjin couldn’t help but be drawn to. You loved to eat. It was one of the first things he noticed about you, and as creepy as it sounded, also what stoked those first wisps of attraction.

You loved food the way he did, without care, or at least without care the way most people who he was raised around cared. No, you didn’t eat a lot, but when you did, you were all in, bare hands sticky after eating peaches, their juice dribbling down your chin and forearms, joyful hums when you bit into your favorite crunchy snacks from the convenience store.

He remembered growing up the ways in which women, even his mother, were almost afraid of food, afraid of how they would spend hours in the kitchen making heaps of it, pounds of fresh kimchi, grilled fish, decadent soups with tofu and mushrooms and packets of ramyeon, and yet when it was time to eat, they were too busy too or suddenly not hungry, or they would eat a few bites and excuse themselves from the table to clean up.

It was sad, really. Because Seokjin ate and ate fully, and maybe because he wasn’t a woman he didn’t need to worry about his body that way, or maybe because he always had some insane metabolism that didn’t impose weight like it did with others, but it never hit him the same. He loved food.

And clearly so did you, delighted in the meal he gave you, even eliciting a groan as you washed down a bite with your beer. It was like you were grateful for every bite of food that ever entered your mouth.

“You were right. This does taste better together,” you said. He was practically beaming.

He glanced down at the pile of jeon. They weren’t bad, but they were a little uneven. While cooking, he’d noticed that something was a bit off about your kitchen. Your oven and everything else were a bit titled, and it pooled the jeon batter toward one end, making them thicker on one side and harder to cook properly. Your fridge door also was dented, having the similar issue of the weight pushing things to one side. He made a mental note to shove some cardboard under the floor pegs later to help level the appliances.

Your counter situation, though, he couldn’t help. You would just have to keep with your barricade at the end to avoid rolling. But you seemed to be savvy in how you solved the various erroneous features of your apartment, making the best of what you had.

In fact, as Seokjin sat in the crook of your massive couch, he noticed why this side was so sunken; it was the only spot you could actually see the TV from this angle. He wondered if he could shuffle it a little bit more in a better view while you were streaming later, or if you would even notice.

You hovered next to the couch, your bottom lip worried between your teeth. You were nervous about something.

“What is it?” He asked. The time for your stream was growing nearer, and he’d promised he would stay for at least the first half, setting up his laptop in your living room.

“What am I doing?” you groaned and flopped down on the floor, a frustrated wail muffling into the carpet.

“Testing yourself and growing. Listen, Y/N, you know you don’t have to do this, but we’ve been over it daily at this point. You want more money and this is what you’ve decided is the most viable option. After-Dark type streams do make a lot more money, you want to exercise more freedom with yourself, do I need to go on?”

You shook your head. Seokjin chuckled.

“Okay, so–yah, sit up!” You bolted off the carpet and folded your legs underneath you.

“So, you know I’m going to be out here if you need anything. If you need me, I’m just on the other side of that door. Also, we’ve been practicing, right?”

“I know, I just…I’m not like you. I’m not confident, I’m not really easygoing or likable like you are. I can’t dom–command a room or everyone’s attention with my charisma how you can. I’m worried that if I don’t give people what they ask for, they’re just going to leave.”

Seokjin scoffed. He knew that on the outside, in the context of work that you were used to seeing him in, he appeared in charge and control at all times. It was part of the job, to be well tempered and fair and even, maintain a sense of friendliness but firmness, it was common sense. But much of his advice today wasn’t coming from that version of him you knew. A lot of this was insight and experience he’d gained as Jin, who he needed to be to ensure he was meeting his tip goals, or needing to remind everyone he was the one in charge, not them.

Even at work last week, when Seokjin needed to call the distributor because there was some issue with a shipment of produce, it was Jin he was channeling to make the call. If it were Seokjin, he would have been a sweaty, nervous mess. Jin was business, Jin was the one who laid down the law. Seokjin himself?

He was the youngest Kim son, the one who, when his parents’ friends and family members thought he wasn’t listening, gossiped about. Why wasn’t he married? Didn’t he have that fiancée for a while? Oh she had a baby with another man? His boss? Well surely that has been long enough now, right? He had another girlfriend, or found some other salaryman career. At 30, it would be kind of sad if his life wasn’t going anywhere.

And that’s where Seokjin was, after all. Single, a sex worker, or temporary restaurant manager. This morning he’d received a text in the family group chat from his brother with a photo of his nephew kissing his sister-in-law’s bump. He loved his nephew, he loved his brother and was happy for their little family. But he also felt hollow as he opened that picture, like some part of him knew he was never going to truly get to have that for himself.

“Hey,” he said, and your eyes flitted from the floor back to him. “First of all, if they leave they leave, right? Those aren’t the people you want to be on your streams because their energy sucks and they’ll just keep asking more of you. Second,” he cleared his throat, “you are likable. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, having viewers and subscribers. There has to be a part of you that is genuine there, otherwise everyone will know you’re lying and move away from you. Don’t they say something about how all the best lies are rooted in truth?”

“But I’m not trying to lie to them,” you said meekly.

Seokjin internally kicked himself for saying that. Perhaps suggesting that you lie to everyone wasn’t the best move.

“I know, I mean, that you don’t offer all of yourself, but offer the parts of you that you know are there that are stable. And for the rest of it, fake it until you make it. Until you can feel confident as a streamer, able to set boundaries. Pretend you’re someone else. The person you want to be.” he amended.

Jin was some of the best parts of Seokjin. Maybe even better. Self-assured, knowledgeable about sex and sexuality in ways he hadn’t been when he was with Soon Yi, he could say no to things he’d never been able to say no to his boss about, and things he couldn’t say no to now because the restaurant wasn’t technically his. There were things he could do, ways he could slip some power in there or make decisions, but nothing was really his. Not the way streaming was. That was all for him. And while yes, his friends knew he did it and supported him in their own way (thankfully most of them did not tune in but on occasion Jungkook and Taehyung would hop on when completely wasted to goad him to “release the beast”), it was still a success that couldn’t be shared publicly, even though he didn’t really want to share it anyway, and didn’t really feel successful.

“Is that what you did? Faked it until you made it? Until you were the person you wanted to be?”

His blood ran cold. Were you reading his thoughts? Did you know?

“W-what?”

Oh god, what if you knew? Seokjin would rush out into the night and dig his own grave. Because if anyone else knew what he did, if his parents found out or his brother or you, he was sure he would become the worst parts of himself. A failure again. Once more someone to be quietly gossiped about in rooms when he was in full range of hearing what they had to say. He couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating than you seeing him, your own boss, with a bright pink dildo shoved up his ass as he pandered to thousands of people with whimpers and cries. Especially when he just spent the better half of an hour telling you that you didn’t need to pander to anyone.

Would you think less of him for it? Would you ask him why he was doing gay streaming of all things? His face flushed, probably turning incredibly red with embarrassment.

“With the restaurant,” you said.

He swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat and coughed.

“Y-yes,” he stammered. “What you see there. It’s not really me all the time. I’m not always all that confident. But I want to be.”

You nodded quietly and stretched your arms over your head. “That makes sense,” you said as you began to pace. “Okay.”

You still had another two hours before your stream was set to start, and Seokjin could tell you were still on edge. He took a deep breath when you turned away, letting the rush of air into his lungs help cool his face.

“Seokjin?” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay until it’s over? I know it’ll be late, and it’s a big ask, but maybe we can eat leftover pizza and debrief?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his night, and probably early morning if he was honest. Your streams could go well into the wee hours of the morning, and while tomorrow while opening he’d probably be kicking himself for this, right now he didn’t care about anything except the warm tug he felt in his chest as he imagined the two of you sitting on the floor with cold pizza and laughter at 3a.m.

“Thank you. Also, do you think we could have another beer or something? I need to take the edge off. I know I’m overthinking it but I need something to distract me before this stream or I might not show up.”

You didn’t wait for his permission, probably because you weren’t asking for it. You slid into the kitchen and back out with two more cold beers.

“Will you show me how to open these again? I want to try.”

Seokjin struggled a bit against the dip of your couch, but eventually found himself level and close to you, so close in fact that the soft scent of your shampoo was once again permeating his nostrils.

You were intoxicating to him, honestly, and he found himself unable to help himself as he squeezed behind you in your tiny kitchen, inhaling partially into your hair as he walked you through the process.

You fiddled with the bottle for a second, holding yourself at an awkward angle.

“Like this?”

If you did it at this angle, you would be sure to cause the beer to explode, the cap wouldn’t get enough traction to pop off easily.

“Not unless you want to participate in a wet t-shirt contest,” he joked before he even realized how sexually charged that comment was.

You inhaled a little sharply.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, you’re a little stiff here.” Then, very carefully, he rested his hands onto your hips, gently maneuvering you so you were able to prop your arm up and out of his way so you wouldn’t elbow him in the ribs when you slammed the bottle down.

He kind of hated himself when he had to let go of your waist. His fingers were tingling simply from brushing them along the seam of your shirt, from feeling the warm curve of your hip under his fingers. Why did his hands feel so at home on your body?

Your sharp movement pushed him out of his reverie as you launched the bottle down onto the counter top, the soft plink and your sparkling eyes confirming you were successful.

That’s my girl, he thought. Only you weren’t his girl. You couldn’t be further from his. And as soon as he thought it, he also felt the soft ache in his chest knowing that you would probably never be his. Because you couldn’t. Because you were without a doubt too good for him, and Seokjin knew all that stood between you and the right guy was time. An opportunity. You walk into the right place some day and then boom, there he will be.

He fucking hated that guy already.

You popped the second cap from the bottle and turned around, shoving your body directly into him as you beamed with pride. “See! I did it!” You looked so adorable, your eyelashes long and fluttering as you gazed up at him.

A smile cracked through his gloom. You were like a little sunbeam to him.

“You did,” he acknowledged, and he took the bottle you offered, taking a swig. He waited for you to make the next move, to dislodge your body from the cramped corner of the kitchen, for the magnetic pull of your body to signal it was too close, too intimate so one of you would break away.

But neither of you did. In fact you sighed and moved closer to him, forcing the small of Seokjin’s back to rest up against the handle bar of the oven. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but he didn’t dare move.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked quietly after a while, staring down at the bottle.

“Sure,” he responded.

You nibbled your bottom lip then sighed again, unsure. He felt your warm exhale hit his forearms. Did you really not realize how close you were to him? The smell of you, even that tiny hit of beer breath, was starting to drive him insane.

You shifted yourself even closer.

“Um, it’s going to sound embarrassing to ask this but I just have to.”

Your voice was low now, a tiny whisper coming out of you. Fuck, you were perfect.

“Go ahead,” he whispered back, smirking. “I won’t judge you.”

“Okay, um. Are you…are you bi?”

“Am I by what?”

You fidgeted uncomfortably and pulled back slightly. You raised your eyebrows.

“No, not by as in near, I mean bi as in like, you know, bisexual?” You shifted your gaze away, and then Seokjin felt the question sink in.

He was such a fucking idiot.

God, this is one of the most awkward interactions you’ve ever had in your life and you feel yourself getting hotter and more embarrassed by the second.

Standing in your tiny cramped kitchen, you decided now for no good reason was the best time to ask Seokjin if he’s bisexual. Or really if he’s gay. Because you need to know. Need answers. Or a confirmation that will help kill this crush for good because as of tonight? It’s much, much worse.

Something about watching him cook earlier, specifically in your kitchen, did something to you. The way he touched your hips to show you how to do that beer opening trick, how he looked slumped into your couch, the way he hovered over your bookshelves and belongings with curiosity, and laughed hysterically over Barry once he pressed the button.

He fits here. In your apartment. It isn’t just some stupid fantasy version of him you could imagine. He is real and beautiful and fits into this corner of your life like a perfect puzzle piece.

And if he’s gay, if there’s no chance that he can give you even the fantasy of this, then it all needs to stop. But it’s also so unfair for you to ask this of him. What if he’s not out? What if you’re forcing him to come out and no one knows and all because your insatiable horniness led you to a gay streaming site where you found him now his livelihood and privacy are technically in jeopardy?

Fuck. You can’t do that to him. And suddenly you’re aware of what you just did, how uncool this was for you to just out and ask. Heat claws into your throat as you sit in this shock of silence, clamping down on your airway and leaving your voice in a reedy wheeze as you try to take back your inquiry.

“I–I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer! I’m out of line. Really, I shouldn’t have even asked. Jesus, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you splutter, heart beating erratically, a line of perspiration beginning to form at the back of your neck at an insane speed. How humiliating.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay. Relax. Breathe,” Seokjin says. You force a ragged inhale but find yourself coughing, gasping to try to find air in this room that is too small and a million degrees warmer.

You are standing in the hallway outside of the bathroom, rasping for air into your lungs. Your mother has just come home from work, shouting about how you haven’t remembered to take the chicken out of the freezer or done any of the chores she’d asked you to while she was gone.

The day has gotten away from you, a hot summer that is so oppressive no one even wants to go outside. You would get all she asked of you done and more before she returned home. The chicken would be thawed, you’d vacuum and mop the floors, would even wipe down the bathroom sink from all the hair she and your father left in it during his morning shave.

And then you would go to your friend’s house tonight, for the sleepover you’ve been dreaming of, eat lots of candy that her father would bring home from work that yours never let you have. You could tell her about the boy whose parents own the convenience store at the end of the street, and how all summer you’ve been finding an excuse to run up to the shop with your allowance to get a pack of gum or snacks or a can of iced tea you would have to chug outside before you even walked home anyway.

You start junior high this fall. Your period started this spring. Everything around you is changing. Your legs are stocky and getting fuller. Hair is starting to grow everywhere. Your breasts are no longer flat on your chest and while you know all of this is happening, you know why and what is going to happen, that doesn’t change how awful all this feels. Your baby fat isn’t baby fat anymore, and the oils of your skin, your hair, your smell? It all is changing so fast and you hate it. You want to hide. And at least having this boy down the street to talk to, Wonwoo, who makes you feel less like you want to crawl outside of yourself.

Him, and all the books you’ve been reading. Ones where they’re older, girls who you’ll be like soon. Who go to school, and date and have families with problems just like your family has problems. Who run into the woods and fall in love with other families. Who find belonging. There’s comfort there, and that’s why despite all your promises to make the house clean for your mom this morning, you forgot. Because you’d fallen into the world of your book.

And now, your mother has told you that you can’t go to your sleepover anymore. Can’t get away from the house and the heat and your body and the ongoing argument you know your parents are having about finances that they shout about when you’re in the shower and they think you can’t hear them. You can’t eat fun secret snacks or talk about boys or pretend for a second that this isn’t your life. Because it is.

Your throat closes up, the dim lights of the hallway outside the bathroom feel like they’re flickering.

“I told you. I reminded you multiple times! Now we don’t have dinner. Unless you’d like to think of something?” She strips off her stockings, balling them up in her fist. “Unless you want to go out there and buy some expensive meal for us tonight?”

Shame. This is it in its purest form. How wrong you are for not helping. For spending the whole day in your fantasy world with your new friends, ones who aren’t real. All your mother asked for was such simple things, and yet you are unable to just do what she asks.

“When your father gets home, you can tell him why there’s no dinner ready.”

Hot tears sting your eyes and you gasp for air. Your father? If he’s having a hard day today, if his boss or his co-workers didn’t recognize him for that presentation he spent all those late nights at the dinner table preparing, you know how this will end. Your father is a fair man, but even he has his limits.

And sometimes that means that the things you love, the things that you covet, they go missing. Precious dolls that you’ve had over the years have disappeared when you were being careless with them, leaving them around in the hallway for him to step on. Once, you left your birthday gift from your aunt, a purple Skip-It, on the sidewalk during a Spring rain shower and when you went to bring it in, it had vanished.

You’d found it in the garbage bin, the ankle loop and cord snapped into pieces.

When your father gets home, he’ll go for your book. He knows just which one it is. You had started it last night and he asked you about it.

You push off the wall of the hallway, swallowing the bile down your throat. You have to hide it, to take it somewhere.

You want to leave. Your eyes dart around the room. Anywhere but here, you can’t let him see how much more embarrassing it is now that he knows you’re anxious. A lump in your throat continues to constrain the air. You can feel your pulse in it, pulling acid up from the depths of your stomach.

You rip another breath from your chest and try to propel yourself across the room, across the universe, but your feet won’t budge. Your muscles are locked in this bump of panic, leaden and unyielding.

Somewhere in the fuzziness, Seokjin has moved but already returned, and you feel a set of cool hands on your cheeks as he comes into focus, gently stroking behind your ears and saying something to you.

“–ow that it’s hard but I need you to breathe, Y/N. Breathe with me. Can you do that?”

His face is concerned, and it twists your stomach even further. He shouldn’t be doing this. You should remember how to fucking breathe on your own. But then again, isn’t that why he’s here anyway? Because you can’t do shit on your own? Can’t hold boundaries, can’t stay in school or keep it together. Can’t live somewhere nicer where you don’t smell the stomach-turning stench of the sink’s old plumbing next to you, metallic and stale. And definitely can’t even remember how to mind your business or breathe like a person.

You rush down the hall, into the living room, snapping the book off the couch. You shove it behind a cushion.

Your father walks in the door, and from the look on his face, you can tell the presentation didn’t go well.

“What’s all this?” he snaps, and gestures to the left-out vacuum and the bucket of water you’d gathered earlier. All the bubbles from the soap have long popped, leaving a heavy, sickening floral scent in the room from the solution.

“I, oh–”

“Your daughter spent all day reading instead of doing her chores. So unless you have a McDonald’s hamburger in your briefcase, we have nothing for dinner.” Your mother interjects, huffing as she heads into your parents bedroom and slams the door behind her.

Your father’s eyes narrow, and this is how it begins. He and your mother slamming, stomping, hitting, and crashing in every interaction they have with an inanimate object around you.

He chucks his suitcase onto the table of the small dining area, then whips open the fridge door a few feet away.

“Y/N, come here.”

You tiptoe in behind him, needing desperately to do the opposite of him, to show that you aren’t mad that they’re mad. That you understand exactly what you did wrong.

But it doesn’t matter, does it? They’re going to show you anyway. He moves aside and you peer into the fridge.

“What do you see in there?” he asks, restrained.

“Um, some celery, lettuce, dressing, milk…”

He growls, indicating that this isn’t the right answer. You’re wrong again. “Food, Y/N. This is food. That your mother and I work hard to put on the table so you can sit around and read your books. Food that needs to be eaten. Do you understand?”

You say nothing. You know the question is rhetorical.

“So, when we ask so little of you to simply take the food out of the freezer or fridge and thaw it, how can it be so hard? Hm? Here let me show you.”

He reaches in, and begins pulling and pulling the veggies, marinades, dressings, milk, eggs, cheeses and meats, and crowding the counter top. You’re frozen, unable to walk away, to ask him to stop.

When he’s done, he looks at you.

“See? Not so hard, huh? And if you were helpful to us, none of this would have happened. Honestly, your selfishness sometimes,” he says. “Now, go get me that book of yours. I think you know you haven’t earned it right now.”

You should go peel it out from under the couch cushions. Should hand it to him, then put all the groceries back away, because you know he’s not going to do it with you here. You should apologize. Accept punishment.

But instead, you’re nauseous and shaking and sobbing.

He waits expectedly. And then he shoves past you to your room, beginning to hunt through your clothes on the floor, under your bed.

“Where is it Y/N?”

You don’t follow him. Instead, you run. You grab the book from behind the cushion, shove your shoes onto your feet and run into the heat of the ending day with it in your hands, the heat from the sidewalk still boiling up underneath you.

Your parents don’t run out the door or into the street behind you. They stay in your home, possibly putting it back together. But you don’t care. You run, until you see the light of the convenience store and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse.

Inside the cool air, Wonwoo is helping his father place drinks from their crates into the refrigerator. His eyes are wide as you plow in.

You have so much you want to tell him, so much worry in your chest. Your cheeks are hot and your body is sweaty. Nothing is coming out. Just the hum of the fridges, and Wonwoo’s father rushing to get his mother.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks, and you can’t do anything to answer, just stare at his soft face as you well up with tears. You shove the book toward him wordlessly.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asks again, and you inhale steeply but choke on the air. A bubble of saliva clods your tongue.

“Please, take this. Hide it,” you urge. He holds his hands out and takes the book.

“Um, okay. Tuck Everlasting, I’ve never read this one.” He looks back up at you and winces.

“Hey, hey, breathe Y/N. You need to breathe.”

Seokjin is standing in front of you, coaxing breaths from you, wasting his time after cooking you dinner like it’s something you deserve. Like you’re not just doing all of this anyway because you can’t control yourself to not have feelings for him. Tears singe your eyes and you gasp another shallow breath.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I promise I’m not mad.” Seokjin breaks through your thoughts, his voice gentle, and almost like he hears you in this silent exchange, some constant that is numbing this spiral. You feel yourself inhale a little more fully as you understand he’s not upset or annoyed. “Good, you’re doing good. Let’s breathe another breath, okay?”

You can’t look away. Even if you wanted to, Seokjin’s touch is keeping you focused completely on him, his soft and kind eyes, his plush lips that he’s holding in a slight frown that won’t shake. One that you can tell is worry.

“Another breath, sweetheart. Good, good girl. That’s really good, Y/N. Okay, keep doing that for a second okay?” One hand releases from your cheek, and you find yourself pressing harder into the other, needing him to touch you and keep guiding you back, needing that security of him.

He doesn’t move it away, in fact he pushes himself closer, holds the weight of you in his palm tenderly, and then you see in your periphery what he moved to get: a glass of water.

“I want you to take three small sips of this for me, okay? Slowly.” He holds the rim of the cup up to your lips, tilting it slightly. You open your mouth slightly, letting a trickle of cold water flood into the hot cavern of your mouth, extinguishing so much of the tight, fiery panic that moves through the rest of your body.

You do as he says, sipping and swallowing slowly until he pulls the glass away and sets it down behind you.

“You with me?” he whispers, and you breathe.

“Yes,” you say.

“Can I touch your arm?”

You’re not sure why he’s asking, so you knit your brow and gaze up at him, confused.

“What?”

“Can I touch your arm? I want to move us out of the kitchen and into your bedroom if that’s okay?” His voice is still quiet, and you realize that the hum of the light is so loud it’s almost drowning him out, almost drowning you again.

Your eyes flash wide and you nod. You see him relax a little, and slowly Seokjin untangles the web of your bodies away from the kitchen, into the cool air of your living room. Why is it so cold?

Seokjin guides you through it, and through the doorway to your bedroom. Before you even realize it, he’s unbuttoning his pink shirt and draping it over you.

“Is this okay? You’re shaking.”

You go to tell him yes, of course it’s okay, and then notice your teeth are gritted tight from trying not to chatter.

You take another breath. “Yes,” you squeak.

He pulls down the duvet and gestures for you to sit. “I’m going to put this blanket on you so I can help you warm up.” You feel the soft, heavy weight and start to feel a little better. But without Seokjin holding you, tethering you back into your body, you feel like you might float away any second. You shoot him a panicked look and he seems to understand, drawing the blanket back so he is also swaddled in it, the two of you knee to knee as he pinches the blanket closed with his fist.

“You can touch me if you’d like,” he says, and this, you realize, is what you need.

You immediately shift forward, putting your face into his white t-shirt, inhaling that minty, fresh cologne he wears. You can feel his chest rising and falling slowly, evenly, and you match your breathing to his, hoping soon your heartbeat slows to the same rate. Your hands twist into his shirt but it’s not enough. You find one of his hands and take it, lacing your fingers together and resting them in your lap.

The heaviness is nice, stabilizing, but you know you still need something more.

“Seokjin?” Your voice sounds foreign to you.

“Yeah?”

“Will you hold me for a minute?”

His hand untangles from yours and he moves to place it around your back, but with you two cross legged and facing each other, it’s an awkward embrace.

“I’m sorry, this is such a weird position. If you’re okay with it, you can sit in my lap? If you want? And then I can just hold you for a second?”

You nod and sit up, unfolding your legs and wiggling yourself up so you are on his lap. You wrap your legs around his back, then your arms. And then you feel his arms around you, his fingers lazily tracing the length of your spine.

You feel yourself sinking deeper back into the safety of your body.

You both sit like this for a long time. So long that you feel yourself starting to grow hazy and sleepy. Seokjin is warm and soft and so soothing. You feel like you’re untangling from a sharp web that has been trapping you for a long time. And when your alarm for your stream goes off, you turn off your phone.

“You okay?” Seokjin asks and you huff out a sigh.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for all the dramatics.” You slide yourself out of his grip and flop back onto your bed, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“What do you mean? You weren’t being dramatic, Y/N, you had a panic attack.”

“Yeah, over asking you a highly personal question I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry for that too.”

“I’m not-it’s-look. Panic attacks aren’t ever just one thing. It’s always a compounding of stress and anxiety and other thoughts and feelings. You just came across the one thought or feeling that forced everything to collapse. And I can guess based on how much you’re apologizing, it was probably you doing that shit inside and beating yourself up that knocked all the rest of this stuff down. I told you, I’m not mad. Or insulted that you asked.”

He goes on. “Which, by the way, I’m not bi or gay. I’m very straight. But that’s not the point. The point is, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You asked me a question. I have a right to choose to answer it or not. So there’s your answer. And also, you are never dramatic to me. Panic attacks are fucking scary; you felt like you were dying, right?”

You nod. “Drowning, yeah.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, those things are no joke. But you came out on the other side of it.”

“Not without your help though. You seem like you know a lot about these when they happen. Do you get them too?”

He flushes. “Uh, no, I don’t personally. My friend Yoongi has them sometimes. He taught me a lot about how to help him with them. The cold water trick really is from him. And then also when Soon Yi and I were together, she would have them, but those were a bit different.” He looks down at his hands.

Soon Yi. So that’s her. The person Seokjin has often stopped himself talking about. The one who his parents would occasionally refer to as “that woman” during shifts when he wasn’t around. No one ever said her name, almost like she was some kind of curse and you always were curious why. You assumed she must be the devil incarnate the way his mother would sling a bunch of insults after she was mentioned, but the way Seokjin now says her name so casually, so personally, you aren’t entirely sure if he sees her that way.

Parents usually carry a greater grudge than their child who was hurt. Your own father has told you on various occasions that the guy you dated for one summer in undergrad, who coincidentally is his barber’s nephew, will never be allowed in his house ever again. Forget the fact that there’s no reason he would be invited over in the first place. Whenever you’re catching up with your parents on the phone, if he has recently visited his barber, he’s sure to bring it up. “Scum is never allowed in my house! He will just drag his filth in with him!”

Thinking of your father and mother right now forces you to wince. Maybe it’s the freshness of these memories, of you realizing now that what happened to you that day as a child wasn’t you being dramatic, as they had insisted even after you’d gotten home. Everything had been put back into place when you’d returned after the sunset, even the bucket and vacuums put away. Your parents never apologized or talked about it again.

And your friend, she didn’t talk to you after that either, claiming you were flaky and rude for blowing her off.

Your father doesn’t even refer to your ex by name, similar to Seokjin’s mother. “That Woman”. “Scum”. If there was ever a name tied to these people, it’s clearly gone in the haze of whatever angry frenzy your parents carry. “Scum” also didn’t even do anything wrong. You broke things off with him, but because you came home crying after the breakup, now that is his legacy.

But Seokjin’s mother, how she behaves, you’re not sure that it’s for the same reasons. You’ve seen firsthand how much she adores her children, and “adoration” is a word you aren’t so sure applies to your family.

Soon Yi, too, it’s clear she was not just a blip on the screen in Seokjin’s life. The hushed, angry chatter between his parents, the way his mother would often get so worked up she would start punching her shoulder and clicking her tongue, saying she needed to go sit down. That’s not a Scum-level relationship. You wonder how close she was to Seokjin. Closer than you two are becoming, clearly.

“Soon Yi,” you repeat to yourself, still lost in the haze of putting things together.

“Um, my ex.” Seokjin says, and you feel heat rise in your cheeks as you realize he heard you. “We were engaged. For a while.”

“Oh.”

You want to ask how long he means by a while? Did they break up right before you joined the restaurant? Or was this from many years ago? It’s odd in a way to think of how Seokjin has lived a completely different life from the time before you knew him. He loved someone, enough to marry them, to start a life together, to know she had panic attacks and how to help her.

Did he place her in his lap the same way he did with you? Did he sit with her in the dull winter light of their bedroom and talk like this?

He had to have. Why wouldn’t he? Your stomach dips. Were you under some impression that this thing you’re experiencing–the closeness of his body, the soft thrum of his heart, that tiny whistle in his throat that breaks through the room as he speaks–would be special?

The dim light of the lamp on your bedside table makes the deep browns of his eyes look even darker, and he watches you as you stretch your legs out in front of you, your foot shifting a bit to rest up against his thigh. His eyes flicker toward it and then back to you.

“How, when did you guys break up? I didn’t know you were engaged,” you ask gently. He sighs, and then slumps a bit, the careful, rigid posture he was holding for so long finally loosening a bit with his exhale. He bends his knees and pulls his legs up, glancing to the other side of your bed.

You pat the spot next to you, turning over so he knows it’s no imposition.

And it’s not, not in the slightest. If you weren’t so fried and exhausted after that panic attack, your brain might try to imbue some innuendo into this moment, but for now, this is all you can do, and you want that ache in your stomach to go away. You want to feel like this is special.

Seokjin flops down into the pile of oddball plushies and pillows next to you and you snort, smiling as he carefully tucks the plushie he smashed in his landing into his arms.

“I’m sure my parents have talked about her enough times for you to know everything,” he scoffs.

“Not really. I didn’t know her name. I just thought she was some girlfriend you had that she hated because she was keeping you away from her. You know, the same way your mother also says that the really old lady down the road who sells flowers keeps your dad away from her.”

He smirks at this, and his fingers rove over the marble eyes of the plushie.

“My mother would blame the sun if it kept her family away from her. She’s been messaging the group chat nonstop for updates from my hyung’s wife about the pregnancy. And she’s supposed to be somewhere in Iceland right now on a cruise. Honestly I wish she would just enjoy herself.”

“Well, she cares. About you especially. Which is maybe why she didn’t air all of your business to me when I was mopping the floors and she counted down the drawers. She just would say that I would be better than “That Woman” but I think she might think anyone would be better than her.”

“She said that to you? Ugh, eomma.”

She did, one late night, when Seokjin left early for “something urgent”. His mother alleged that he was dating a secret new girlfriend that he kept under wraps.

“Honestly, he acts as if I’m going to eat her alive or something. Tsk. That son of mine, both he and his brother are going to send me to an early grave. Behind my back like this when I’m getting older by the minute. Ever since he and that woman broke up, he shut down. I tried to set him up with someone and he kept saying no! That he would find someone. But if she was any better than the others, wouldn’t he have brought her around by now,” she’d said.

She slammed some coins back into the register. You jumped at the sound.

She sighed. “You know what he needs? Someone like you. Someone with vision! That woman never had any of that. So much more focused on status. You’re not like that Y/N. I can tell. And that’s exactly why I hired you. You can’t teach someone that as an adult. They either have it or don’t, and you. You’ve got exactly it.”

You didn’t really know what “it” was, but you didn’t argue, and soon she moved on to complain about something else.

Now, knowing Seokjin’s secret, you think you know where he went that night, and it definitely wasn’t to go hide in his lover’s house. Chances were, he was streaming. And that also would explain why he shut down on her so quickly. You can’t imagine Mrs. Kim’s reaction if she found out Seokjin was a gay cam streamer. Despite being straight.

It dawns on you. You’d been so distracted with that panic attack that you forgot already that Seokjin is in fact interested in women. Solely. Enough to have been engaged to one.

“But, back to your story,” you prod, trying to distract yourself from the fact that now none of this feels like just friends sharing. Seokjin hisses in some air as if he agrees.

“Right. Well, Soon Yi and I were together really in college and on. We started dating really young. Just two kids. And then we just kind of stuck together? She and I were together for a long time before I got the nerve to propose. And then…” He trails off, his face now a deeper blush. Is he embarrassed?

You lick your lips, ready to tell him he doesn’t have to share, but he waves his hand to quiet you.

“She cheated on me. With my boss. We were in the midst of planning the wedding and everything. I was supposed to get this big promotion at the end of some large conferences. But, I don’t know. We had grown apart. Suddenly we didn’t see eye-to-eye on anything.”

Your jaw drops, caught on that larger detail. “She cheated on you with your boss? After all that time? God, Seokjin, I'm so sorry. That’s awful.”

He smiles and nods. “That’s not even the worst part,” he says. His smile grows bigger, like this is some huge joke. “She cheated on me multiple times with him while I was away. And I caught them. Uh, you know. On my dining room table when I came back early to surprise her. I did not get the promotion by the way. But, she actually has a baby, or I guess a toddler, with him now. I heard she’s pregnant again, they’re married. It’s all some surreal life. And now I’m here.”

“Um, you’re right, it was worse than that.” You’re really not sure what to say. Seokjin’s becoming harder to read by the second, turning this conversation into some big joke when it’s not really funny to you on your end. Maybe he’s processed it enough by now, but based on how tightly he’s now squeezing your alpaca plushie, you would wager that he doesn’t really find it funny either.

“Is this,” you take a breath. “Is this why the other night you said you were a failure? Because of what happened with Soon Yi?”

“Partly. I mean, it’s not like I did too great of a job keeping her satisfied. She clearly found other ways to do that.” He laughs darkly.

“That’s not how that works you know,” you say. His eyebrows lift.

“What do you mean?”

“What you just said. Keeping her satisfied. Isn’t it the job of being a human to keep ourselves satisfied? Find things with meaning and joy? It’s not your fault that she chose to do that. To cheat on you, to not be honest when she started feeling differently. She could have told you at any point. Did she?”

He sighs. “Not really, no. Soon Yi wasn’t great at communicating with me about things like that. For so long, we just knew what the other person needed. Because we’d been together since we were so young, we had come up with some other kind of language. And my friends, too, they were in on it. She was not always going to tell someone how she felt but she would show them. For Jungkook’s 21st birthday she threw him an “American Stereotype” themed birthday which he was always obsessing over from the videos. Bought a bunch of red solo cups, they played that Miley Cyrus song and bought a bunch of discounted Fourth of July partyware. She was one of us.”

Even now, despite everything, Seokjin is speaking so kindly about someone who hurt him. And honestly, it throws you. You are so used to the men you’ve been around talking so poorly of their exes that you didn’t know someone could experience such a negative thing and not immediately resort to extreme name calling.

That’s just how good Seokjin is. Enough to not be mad at you for asking questions, for panicking. Enough to speak kindly about others even if it might be eating at him.

“That doesn’t mean it was your fault though,” you stifle a yawn. He cocks an eyebrow.

“Maybe we should shelve this conversation for another time,” he says.

“No, no, I want to hear. I want to know all of it.”

“You were supposed to start your scheduled stream an hour ago.”

“Change of plans. I’m not streaming tonight.”

“Do your subs know that?”

“Don’t call them that. They’re subscribers not subs. Sub is something you do.”

Jesus. Please don’t let him cling to that. Please don’t let that give away that I know.

“Pfft. Okay, do your subscribers know you’re not streaming anymore?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s created this distance on purpose and now the moment has passed.

Fine, you’ll get more from him about this eventually. You need to understand how Soon Yi impacted him. You don’t really know why, but you can’t help but feel like knowing more might make you feel less uneasy about all of this. About you and Seokjin and what this could all maybe mean someday.

“I can post about it,” you say softly and he nods.

“That might be a good idea. You’ve had a big day. A big panic attack, you probably need some sleep.”

Your stomach sinks at the idea that he might leave after this, and you’re still not sure you want to be alone. You chew your lip.“What I really need is some pizza,” you say.

Seokjin smirks. “Good thing for you, I know exactly where we can find some.”

“Thank you again for the pizza,” you said, nibbling on the edge of one crust. “I didn’t think I could be that hungry after eating so much earlier.”

Seokjin took another swig of beer, shrugging. “Well, you’ve had a big day, and you burned energy and probably calories earlier.”

Your panic attack may have seemed to you like it was coming out of nowhere, but to Seokjin, it wasn’t. He had noticed your embarrassment the second after you asked him that question, saw you spiral inside yourself as you tried to huff air. He wasn’t sure what really triggered it, but he also knew he didn’t want to leave you after that.

He wasn’t unfamiliar to them. Yes, Yoongi had his share, and it took a little while to learn what ways he could be soothed. Soon Yi’s were different, though. A lot more similar to yours.

When they had started experimenting sexually, there would be times in which she would fall so quickly into panic, like she couldn’t give up control. And from that point on, sometimes she would spiral deeper, into some pit of shame where whatever they were doing, even if it wasn’t super kinky, led to these shaking, sub-drop-like breakdowns. They were more rare, but they did happen, especially earlier in their relationship.

At the time, Seokjin didn’t understand what was going on, and neither did Soon Yi. Just that she sometimes would flip on him during foreplay when he would get a little more confident and dominant, or if he started falling into a scene that she had asked them to do, using the script the way she asked, it would happen anyway. Almost like she was fighting between what she wanted and who she expected herself to be.

And that’s in a way how you seemed to be too. Maybe you weren’t like this sexually, and he would unpack that idea later. But in this intimate space of your home, it was like Seokjin was experiencing some type of whiplash as you went from being so uncomfortable about asking about his sexuality to you lying next to him in your bed talking about his ex.

He wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. He understood that especially after a panic attack, people were desperate for closeness and intimacy, and whatever reaction he had to your panic, you felt soothed and safe with him. He was being let into your world little by little, even if you were fighting yourself to let it happen.

He wanted that. He wanted this: you two eating cold pizza on the floor of your living room, you chewing happily and Seokjin warm and full of life watching you do it.

You even let him make adjustments to your space, laughing and applauding him after he ripped some of the clean cardboard from one of the pizza boxes and made shims to prop up and balance your oven and fridge. He found if he scooted the couch slightly to the left and your entertainment system got turned a few inches, you could completely see the TV from anywhere on the couch. You dove to the other side almost immediately, whooping when you realized you wouldn’t have to strain yourself to see anymore.

You were comfortable. He made you comfortable.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” you said, your hand caressing over the soft roll of your stomach to demonstrate how full you were. Then, a deep burp echoed into the room. Your eyes widened. “Oh, wow, sorry. Excuse me,” you said suppressing a chuckle.

But Seokjin was already laughing, his body shaking at the sound. “So polite for someone who made that noise.”

The tenseness in your shoulders fell and you gave in, laughing next to him. “Listen! It was good, and the carbonation of the beer is making me have to burp!”

“Sure, sure. That’s what it is. You know I’ve seen those memes about how women don’t fart or burp or poop and I’m onto you! You have one strike. If you fart or shit I’m going to prove that meme false.”

You scoff, tears leaking out the side of your eyes. “Well good thing for you, I will not deny those allegations. I don’t just poop, I shit.”

Seokjin choked on his next sip of beer, spluttering some of it out of his nose. “Oh shit.” Tears flowed from his eyes from the sting, and he grasped for some napkins near the pizza.

You weren’t much better off, coughing heavily into your shirt as you tried to recover. This, this was everything he could ever want. Afterward, you both cleaned up the kitchen and pizza together, finishing off the six-pack of beer until your yawns were impossible to ignore.

“It’s really late, Y/N. You should go to sleep,” he said. He hated himself for suggesting it, almost wishing that you would extend the invitation to stay. Even then, though, he would have to decline.

“Or we could, I don’t know, play a game or something?” As you said this, you stifled another yawn.

He chuckled. You were stalling, he could tell. And he wasn’t strong enough to say no. “Hm, okay how about this. We can hang out in your room and I’ll tell you more about me. But you have to get ready for bed first, otherwise it’s no deal.”

Your eyelids were heavy, but you beamed anyway. “Yeah, okay.”

You went into your room, grabbing some clothes before shutting yourself into the bathroom to get ready. Seokjin paced your living room, scanning the book shelves, a variety of titles he’d never seen before in the stacks. But there was one, a smaller and thinner book that had more wear and tear than the rest. He slid it out carefully and held it in his hands. Tuck Everlasting, a book he’d read in elementary school about a teenager who met a family that drank from a tree’s magical spring and lived forever.

Based on your copy, he could tell it was well-loved and read many times. How old were you when you read it, he wondered. Did you want to run away into the woods like he did afterward, trying to find a magical spring of your own?

The bathroom door opened, and he carefully slotted the book back onto the shelf before turning to you. You were wearing an oversized T-shirt and some very, very short pajama shorts. Your legs looked so soft to touch. His hand twitched.

“Okay,” you said, “I’m ready.”

Seokjin wasn’t. But he followed you into the darkness of your room anyway, laid himself down next to you on the bed as you tucked yourself under the blankets. Your eyes shimmered as you looked at him, now way more awake than you had appeared just ten minutes ago.

Were you hustling him?

“You need to crawl under the blankets too. Otherwise they’ll constrict me and I will absolutely not fall asleep like you have clearly planned,” you tease.

You were hustling him. He liked it.

He chuckled and obeyed, folding back the comforter and sheets to get in. But in doing so, he revealed you with your shorts already bunched up on your thighs, exposing your lacy panties at your hip. Your shirt was riding up, and he could see a tiny bit of your stomach peeking out.

God fucking help him. He managed a deep breath, begging himself not to get hard, or for his body to at least wait until you wouldn’t see him getting hard and he was under the covers. This wasn’t the time. Not after all the emotionality of the day. But his dick didn’t know that.

Your covers smelled like you, soft and even a little sweet and you really had to be fucking with him because you shoved yourself even closer to him under the covers, so that there were just a few inches between you two. He felt your body heat radiating from you.

“There,” you sighed, and he smelled a hint of your mint toothpaste. His mouth watered. “Now, where were we?”

No, but where were you really? He didn’t remember, didn’t know where to start. And then it clicked.

“Mmm, you were going to go to sleep I think,” he said.

You frowned, your nose wrinkling. “No, that’s not true. Or it was. I’m not tired now.”

“Give it a minute, I’m sure soon your eyelids won’t be able to stay open.”

“Sure, but yours are heavy now too. So you must be tired. Now it’s a competition.” You were right. His eyelids were heavy, and he was tired. But he knew his body, especially as keyed up as he was getting, wasn’t about to let him fall asleep any time soon.

“I think I’ll win that one,” he laughed lightly.

“Doubt it,” you challenged, and you shifted your legs, now a little less comfy and more antsy. You slowly released a breath.

“Are you sure you want to do this right now?” He asked, and you didn’t hesitate to nod.

“I want to know more about you. It’s nice to put the puzzle pieces of you together in my head.” Your voice was growing husky.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” you replied. A beat passed. Neither of you moved to say anything, just looked at each other.

Shouldn’t this be awkward? Shouldn’t all of this feel wrong? Somewhere in his mind, the logical response was yes, this is weird and he should leave. But then he would be leaving you after a hard day, when you clearly were trying to avoid him leaving by going so far as to keep yourself awake to stare at him. To try to get to know him. And that’s what rooted him now. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. Maybe you were only being needy. But he also felt needy right now. And for the moment, logic could fuck off.

So he pushed it away, letting the parts of him he liked most bubble to the surface, the parts that led without overthinking and just acted on what he wanted.

He moved slightly closer to you, and you blanched, a little taken aback, but you recovered quickly. “

I’m cold,” you said. He knew it was a lie. He could feel the heat of you.

“Here,” he replied, and he pulled the blanket open slightly so you could wiggle forward, resting yourself against his chest.

He angled himself carefully, trying so hard to avoid the rest of your bodies touching, but it was impossible, so he pulled you closer, letting every part of you rest against him.

“Tell me,” you muttered.

“What should I tell you?” he whispered back.

“I don’t know. Anything.” You were fading quickly, and he was relieved. Sad that he would have to go soon, but relieved that you were finally resting.

“Okay,” he said, even softer. “I think if I ever drank from a magical spring, I would do a better job hiding it than the Tuck family did.”

You hummed in response, and then he felt your head nod into his chest as you fell fully asleep.

#bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin #seokjin x reader #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #thanks for the sub

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