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kpopfanfictrash · 6 months

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The Horrible Un-Haunting of Elliot House

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Ghost!AU / Romance / Comedy (?)

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader (she/her)

Synopsis: Some houses are harder to sell than others but you, Y/N, are determined to find the (supposedly) haunted Elliot House a new owner. That is, until it's very real and very hot exceedingly well-dressed ghost decides to make himself known. If only you didn't find yourself enjoying the knowing.

Rating: PG-13 (kissing but nothing beyond that)

Word Count: 6,214

Author's Note: hope you enjoy this random Halloween "drabble"! This got oddly angsty? I suppose that happens with ghost love LOL

[ Cross-Posted to Wattpad ]

“Through here,” you say, leading the Gundersons through an arched door. “You’ll find the most adorable sunroom.”

The Gundersons both gasp, appropriately awed by the tall walls of windows. Each panel is topped with stained glass, casting colorful patterns across the checkered floor. Technically, the sunroom isn’t part of the original house – it was added in 1975 during a brief period the address was owned by a cult – but you rarely disclose this fact during tours. Most people don’t care which parts of the house are original, so long as they can say they bought a 19th century Tudor.

Not that you blame them. Most people (or at least, sane people) appreciate the romanticism of an old structure without actually wanting to live in one. Modern amenities are the top benefit of progress, after all. The government couldn’t pay you to live without modern heating, plumbing, or refrigeration.

“Margaret, did you see?” Arthur Gunderson, a slightly rotund lawyer, and husband of said Margaret, gestures emphatically. “I’ll be damned if this stained glass isn’t Tiffany! See there, see that stamp in the corner?”

“Good eye, sir!” you chirp, barely glancing up from your clipboard.

Truthfully, you aren’t sure whether the glass is authentic. The cult that installed could hardly be called profitable (they sold the house at a loss after less than ten years, although this likely had more to do with crimes committed on said property than their income, but you digress), so you’d be hard-pressed to believe they could afford real Tiffany.

If this is what convinces the Gundersons to buy though, you’re hardly a realtor to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Ticking a box in the upper right corner – sunroom – you look up. “Right, well. That’s most of the lower level.” Pivoting on your heel, you head towards the corridor. “If you two will follow me upstairs, we can –”

“What’s that?”

Steps slowing, you stare at the plaster wall. A moment passes, then two before you convince yourself to turn around. When you see where Arthur Gunderson points, a relieved breath leaves your lips.

“Oh, that?” Floorboards squeak as you cross the room, sounding almost like laughter. “That’s the cellar. I’d offer you a look but unfortunately, the staircase isn’t quite up to code. You’ll need someone to look at that ASAP if you buy.”

Hovering at the wooden door, you grasp its bronze knob and pull. Tugging the cord for the light, you briefly scan the stairs but spot nothing unusual. Mostly convinced, you dutifully step aside.

“Feel free to look,” you say brightly.

The Gundersons crowd the landing you vacated.

“Careful, honey,” Arthur warns, holding Margaret’s elbow. “These stairs are steep.”

Standing on tiptoe, Margaret peers beyond him into the basement gloom. It could be your imagination, but she almost seems disappointed. A few cobwebs and shadows line the staircase, but nothing more sinister.

Hiding a smile, you check the next box. Cellar. Sometimes, people request to see this house not because they’re interested in buying it, but for the thrill. Entering the haunted Elliot house and surviving will make a great tale to tell their friends over cocktails.

Lowering your clipboard, you glance upward. So far, everything has gone to plan, which is partly the problem. You must’ve shown this house thirty times and always, something has gone wrong by now. Before being assigned its realtor, you believed in the paranormal, but only in a theoretical way. Not because you’d witnessed anything spectral.

Your opinions since then have changed.

Turning sharply, you plaster a smile on your face. “Shall we?”

Stepping back, Margaret pulls wiry frames from her jacket pocket. “I must admit,” she says with an embarrassed laugh. “Based on what our last realtor said, I was expecting far worse from this property.”

Although your smile tightens, you nod. The other realtor had a point – Elliot house could be temperamental, at best. Downright petulant, at worst. You glare again at the ceiling.

“We get that a lot,” you say, ushering them down the hall. Best not to linger. “Whenever a house sits too long on the market, you know – people talk. Lots of rumors!”

“Oh, sure,” Arthur says, passing you with a chuckle. “We’re not superstitious, don’t worry.”

“Oh?” you say lightly, remaining behind. “That’s good to know. Now, if you head down the hall, you’ll reach the foyer. All the crown molding you pass is original. The house’s first owner and builder, Daniel Baker, was something of a craftsman. He –”

Abruptly, you cease talking and stare at the stairwell. Halfway down the steps, where before there was nothing, sits a perfectly ripe orange. Eyes narrowed, you stare at this a long beat before yanking the light cord down and shutting the door.

Glancing upward, you hiss, “Not today, I swear to – well, whatever hellish being you worship.”

The wind sounds almost like laughter, but you don’t stick around long enough to find out if that’s true. Shaking your head, you traipse down the front hall in search of the Gundersons. Luckily, they’re too busy taking pictures of the aforementioned crown molding to have noticed your absence.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing at the front stairs.

Pocketing their phones, they begin their ascent. You wait at the bottom, giving them space to discuss the house. From personal experience, buyers tend to appreciate when you don’t hover.

Besides, the grand staircase is your favorite feature – equal parts artwork and functionality. From your place at its bottom, you admire the craftsmanship. Starting the climb, your fingertips skim whorls in the wood and for a second, you feel a phantom hand rest over yours.

Scowling darkly, you yank your palm away. Reaching the landing, you clutch at your clipboard tighter and walk forward.

“This way!” you say, practically shoving the Gundersons into the first bedroom.

While they ooh and ah about the bay windows, you tick another box on your spreadsheet. Master bedroom.

The second you’re done, the pen slips from your grasp and hovers in mid-air. It then turns, point-down, to scrawl something in the margin.

‘Master’ bedroom? Kiiind of racist, don’t you think?

Teeth gritted, you snatch your pen back. “I wasn’t the one who created the spreadsheet, okay?” you whisper. “And while, yes, I agree, and other realtors are moving away from that language, I don’t–”

“Pardon?” Arthur Gunderson peers, confused, over his shoulder.

Somewhat manic, you smile. “Oh, nothing,” you say, the words sounding high-pitched, even to you. “I was just reminding myself to show you the main bathroom. Beautiful claw-foot tub.”

“Oh. Sure,” says Arthur, returning to his wife.

Head whipping sideways, you glare at the most likely place Seokjin would be. A chuckle drifts past your ear on the other side, and your scowl deepens.

Once an appropriate amount of time goes by, you usher the Gundersons into the next bedroom. Hovering outside, you calculate how quickly you can convince them to leave. The longer they stay, the worse the so-called haunting will be.

You should have known better than to show them this house, but they were insistent. Or at least, Arthur was. Margaret seems reasonably paranoid, which you deem a positive quality. Everyone within a hundred-mile radius has heard of the haunted Elliot house.

Even the name is confusing, since it doesn’t bear the name of its builder, Daniel Baker, nor its longest resident, Mr. Josiah Whitley. Instead, it’s named for Nathaniel Elliot, the cult leader who murdered a man on its premises in 1978. Obviously, this fact wasn’t known to the public until after the cult sold the house and moved far away.

Eventually, Mr. Elliot was tried and found guilty of murder, but this was much later. Wincing a little, you glance at the ceiling. Seokjin has said many times that ghosts can’t read minds, but you wouldn’t put it past him to lie for a punchline. Even if he can’t read your mind, the faint scent of cedar lets you know he’s nearby.

Quickening your stride, you show the Gundersons the next bedroom. “This is one of my favorites,” you say, pulling hard on its warped door. “The view from that window is stunning. You can see all the way to the brook!”

Taking the bait, Margaret crosses the room. “Oh, look, Arthur!” she exclaims, leaning forward. “There’s a gazebo!”

He follows at a more leisurely pace, frowning when he spots a lone cobweb in the corner. Sighing, you swipe at this as you pass, almost certain the web wasn’t there this morning.

While the two converse, you pull out your clipboard and run down the list again.

Most days at your job are like today – running down lists and waiting for other people to make their own life decisions. Becoming a realtor wasn’t so much a choice as it was thrust upon you. When your mom got sick your senior year of grad school, you returned to take care of her and finished your coursework remotely.

There were only so many jobs with flexible hours, and you ended up getting your realtor’s license to support her on the side. When your mom passed, you stuck around to sort out her paperwork and affairs. Two years later, everything is in order and still, you remain. Stuck in a holding pattern, showing houses and too afraid to try your hand at anything different.

BANG.

The sudden noise from above plunges the room into silence. Both Arthur and Margaret swivel, wide eyes landing on you.

Margaret’s glasses chain trembles. “What was tha–”

“My assistant,” you blurt, backing towards the door. “He mentioned he would stop by to drop off some keys. That must be him – I’ll go and check!”

“But…” Arthur stares. “The noise came from above.”

“Be right back!” you call, stepping into the hall.

As fast as possible without raising suspicion, you rush down the hall. “Seokjin,” you hiss, hand skimming the banister as you descend. “Stop that right now!”

No one responds – not that you thought he would. Crossing the foyer, you reach the cellar door and yank it open. Flicking the overhead light, you see the orange has disappeared. Rolling your eyes, you shut the door.

“This isn’t funny,” you huff out loud to no one.

Far above you, a low groan shakes the house. Honestly, it sounds more sexual than scary, but you suppose that only makes it more sinister. Reaching the foyer, you slow your pace and set down your clipboard. Suppressing a sigh, you glance at the clock. This has happened enough times that you can predict things to the minute.

Crossing your arms, you tap your foot and count down in your head.

One – increased groaning. Sometimes from the cellar, often the attic and, during one memorable visit, from behind a locked bathroom door.

Two – shuffling feet while the Gundersons (insert buyer’s name here) debate whether to run or wait it out. They hastily whisper, wondering if it’s their minds playing tricks.

Third – laughter. Seokjin will say it sounds lilting but to you, his laughter is more akin to a car’s windshield wipers. Today, said laughter drifts from the main bedroom, immediately followed by the Gundersons’ screaming.

Directly above you, Margaret’s heels pound wooden floors. Wincing, you make a mental reminder to buff the scuffs from the wood.

“ARTHUR!” she calls, her voice pitching upward.

“Right behind you!” he bellows.

When the lights in the foyer flicker, you lean against the grand railing. In your experience, there’s nothing you can do now to save the showing. As soon as Seokjin reveals himself, it’s only a matter of time.

“Whoooo dareeessss to disturrrrrb meeeee!” he wails, and you try not to laugh. “This is MYYYY homeeee and you are nooooot welcomeeeee! OoOOOOooooOOo!”

Arthur is first down the stairs. Reluctantly, you step forward – as their realtor, you’ll try to calm them down and get them out. All part of the plan. What’s not part of the plan is Arthur’s blind panic, elbowing you – hard – in the stomach as he runs past.

Concaving, you stumble, your foot catching on a loose floorboard as you fall backwards. Suddenly, a pink cushion slides between you and the floor. You land in the middle of it, shocked but unharmed.

Arthur yanks open the front door. “You!” he blurts, whipping around to point. Blinking, you fight the urge to glance over your shoulder. “Yes, you,” he scoffs, spittle flying as Margaret runs past. “I don’t know if this is your idea of a sick joke or what, but your manager will be hearing from me!”

Before you can formulate a response, Arthur is out the front door. You hear the sound of their car starting, exhaust billowing behind them as they speed down the street.

Propping yourself on one elbow, you release a sigh. The house has fallen silent, almost sheepish in its total lack of sound. Head lolling back, you glare at the ceiling.

“You are so annoying,” you groan, well-aware you sound crazy. “I honestly don’t know what you’re looking for, Seokjin. The Gundersons were fine.”

The front door slams.

An outline of a person materializes between you and the living room, seeming composed of dust motes and sunshine. Turning your glare in their direction, you tap your fingers against the oak floor.

Seokjin solidifies fully, rakishly leaning against the paneled wall. He’s dressed in the same navy three-piece suit he wore when he died, albeit with his hair styled in this century’s fashion. Seokjin once said ghosts are able to change their appearance, but most choose not to. There’s little point to it, and it wastes precious energy.

Sadly, he shakes his head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Seokjin says, his deep timbre resonating through floorboards beneath you.

“Show off,” you mutter.

Lips twitching, he crooks a finger. The foyer light ceases to flicker, and Seokjin straightens. Dusting invisible dust from his shoulders, he walks forward.

“The Gundersons were tiresome,” he says. “I would’ve been bored of them in months, started haunting again, and this house would’ve gone right back on the market. Really, I saved you trouble in the long run. You can thank me later.”

“Oh, no,” you deadpan. “Two commissions on the same property. What a horrible fate.”

“Exactly. You’re welcome.”

Fighting an eye roll, you push yourself upward with cushion in hand. At least Seokjin was kind enough to break your fall, even if he caused the circumstances which led to it in the first place.

Brushing the dirt from the cushion, you shake your head. “You do know that eventually, someone will buy this house and you’ll have to make peace with that fact. Right?”

When Seokjin doesn’t immediately respond, you look up. His dark gaze lingers a second longer than necessary, briskly looking away when he catches you watching.

“I know,” Seokjin says, turning around. “Might I point out though, that I don’t have to make peace with anything. Ghost,” he adds, pointing at himself. “Not making peace with things is our bread and butter.”

“People have owned this house before, though.”

“Boring people,” Seokjin mutters.

“That didn’t seem to bother you back then!”

Seokjin enters the living room. “Ugh,” he groans, dropping onto a chaise. Dust motes spiral around him, as though he were solid. “If I must be trapped on the material plane, Y/N, the least the material plane could do is provide some entertainment. And the lovemaking of two seventy-year-olds doesn’t count,” he adds, fixing you with a glare.

Stifling laughter, you follow him into the parlor. Fluffing the cushion, you replace it on its chair and survey the room. Seokjin lounges dramatically and it could be your imagination, but he almost looks solid. More so than the first time you met, anyways.

He nearly scared the shit out of you, back then. Everyone at the firm warned you this house was haunted but were purposefully vague on the supernatural. The warnings they gave you were borderline mundane.

Oh, yeah, that house has been on the market forever. People say that it’s haunted, but I’d honestly be more worried about rats. Or asbestos – popcorn ceilings didn’t age well for a reason. And I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard a convict once lived in the basement for three months before the cops caught him. Watch out for that!

You entered this house with more than your usual trepidation, pepper spray in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Apparently, the wiring wasn’t all up to code – something you’ve since rectified with the city.

The sound of the door creak could’ve been written by the Brothers Grimm themselves, textbook gothic. Your flashlight swept over dusty floors, faint footprints remaining to remind you of its past. Spine steeled, you forced yourself to continue.

Finding a light switch, you flicked upward, and the chandelier came to life. The lighting was dim, barely enough to see by on a rainy day. Keeping your flashlight, you wandered into the parlor and came to a sudden stop. Forest green wallpaper lined the walls, remarkably intact for its age. Stunned, you turned in a slow circle.

Moody maximalism was one of your favorite design styles, and this room was made for it. With a slightly better attitude, you resumed your walk-through, discovering a hidden cupboard in the kitchen and a dumbwaiter to nowhere. The second-floor entry point had been boarded up, but that could be rectified.

Some of the woodwork of the house was scuffed, and a few corners held fallen leaves, but overall, it was in great condition. None of the realtors had prepared you for that – you arrived expecting a war zone and were pleasantly surprised.

On the second floor, you found a library – or what had once been the library, given the shelving was empty – that made you audibly gasp. Blue-black custom shelves extended along three of the walls. Closer to the door, a bright square of color remained from where a painting had hung.

Curious, your fingers traced the edges. “This place is unreal,” you murmured to yourself.

“I know, right?” said a voice directly in your ear.

Like any sane person, you screamed and jumped skyward. Your flashlight fell, its beam rolling over and over until it hit a baseboard. You didn’t stick around to find out, turning fast on your heel and bolting into the hall.

Thundering down the front stairs – wincing as the wood groaned – you nearly reached the foyer when Seokjin appeared.

“Boo,” he said calmly, between you and the door.

Coming to a shuddering halt, your hand gripped the railing. The ghost was impeccably dressed, if slightly invisible, and raised a dark brow in response to your flight.

Gaze darting sideways, you sought a second exit but all you could recall was the cellar and that wasn’t an option. Years of training from watching scary movies kicked in at that point, and you slowly straightened. Running away would do nothing – a ghost could follow you anywhere – so, maybe reasoning with him would be the best option.

“What do you want?” you asked, masking your fear to plant both hands on your hips. “Who are you?”

Surprise flared in his – admittedly attractive – gaze. Some of the shock had worn off by then, and you could admit to yourself (if to no one else) that the ghost before you was hot. Even thinking this felt ridiculous, and you wondered if your already-fragile grasp on reality was slipping.

Taking a single step forward, the ghost cocked his head. When you stumbled back, his lip quirked, and he appeared by your side.

“Who am I?” he mused, walking in a slow circle. “Awfully strange to ask me that, when I’m the person that died here, and you’ve never stepped foot in this house until now. I would know.”

Started, you turned your head.

This was a mistake since it allowed you to see every ridge of his features. The rounded tip of his nose, his enviably full lips, and a curve to his jawline which could likely cut glass.

Forcing your gaze upward, you found him focused on you. “You… died here?” you asked before you could think better.

His lips thinned. “You know, it’s very rude to ask a ghost how they died. It’s personal.”

“Oh,” you said. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask,” the ghost replied with a sigh.

Your eyes narrowed, hearing barely hidden laughter in his tone. This ghost was making fun of you. The audacity!

Incensed by this, you lifted your chin. “Wouldn’t asking you whether it’s polite to ask about death be asking you about death, though?”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged, slipping both hands in his pockets. “There really isn’t a good way for you to bring up that conversation.”

A laugh escaped, despite yourself.

His gaze flickered, as though oddly pleased. Quickly, the ghost scanned you from your shoes to your face, where he lingered.

“I’m curious,” he mused, resuming his walk in a circle.

Despite your discomfort, you forced yourself to stay still. Even though you could feel each place his gaze lingered – your shoulders, your collarbone, tacing the slope of your cheekbones.

“What are you curious about?” you asked, pushing the words past your lips.

He stopped between you and the door again. Slipping both hands from his pockets, he crossed his arms over his chest. The way his biceps strained against his suit was intriguing, implying there was something to strain against. Dimly, you wondered what a ghost’s gym routine looked like.

Your lips twitched at the thought, and the ghost scowled.

“Stop that,” he commanded. “You should be terrified. I was curious about why you haven’t run yet. Anyone else would��ve by now.”

“Would they?”

“Based on my experience, yes.” He tilted his head. “This is the first time I’ve introduced myself to someone and they stayed. Well,” he amended through teeth. “Stayed without crucifixes, holy water, and a priest.”

“Does that really work?” you wondered, genuinely curious.

“Does what work – exorcism?”

You nodded.

“Clearly not.” He waved a hand down his body. “At least, not in my case. When I first died, I wanted to move on. I was even excited when the first priest arrived, but he did nothing, and neither did the next one… eventually, I stopped hoping. Started haunting, instead.”

“Well, sure,” you said, dazed.

His lips twitched. “My name is Seokjin, by the way. Not that you asked.”

“That was literally one of the first things I asked!”

Ignoring this, Seokjin stuck out his hand. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, ignoring the impossibility of what you were about to attempt while extending your palm. “Nice to meet you.”

Your hands met in the middle and, instead of passing through, you felt your palms brush. For a moment, you touched calluses and warm skin, smelling the faint scent of cloves.

Seokjin went utterly still.

Chin jerking down, he stared at your joined hands. “That’s… never happened before.”

Retracting swiftly, you said the first thought that came to mind. “What? Never touched a woman?”

Scowling, he retracted his hand as well. “I was thirty when I died, Y/N. Not thirteen.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, then paused. “You… haven’t been able to touch anyone since you died?”

“Things, yes. People, no.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “A psychic visited me once. The owners at that time brought her, wanting to see if she could get rid of me.” Seokjin snorted. “She got them to pay her, then said, ‘No.’ Hilarious. And interesting,” he added. “She told me she’d met other ghosts, ones that could interact. Never seemed to work for me, though.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. For it being your first encounter with the supernatural, nothing about this had gone as imagined. You weren’t sure how to converse with a ghost who, for all intents and purposes, seemed fairly normal.

Except for the whole ‘being dead’ part.

“Well.” You shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

His expression remained inscrutable, but for the faintest of seconds, you thought Seokjin looked intrigued. After a moment, he moved closer and leaned in. You caught the faintest whiff of orange, cloves, and cedar on what could have been his breath.

“I suppose there is,” he murmured, and then disappeared.

Since then, Seokjin has appeared each time you returned. The second time, you were halfway convinced your first visit was a hallucination. A theory Seokjin seemed content to feed into, refusing to show himself until you were about to leave. Then, he jumped through the hall closet to yell, “MUTINY!” and cement his presence in your mind.

Seokjin doesn’t dress the same every time. A few weeks into your friendship (if one can call it that), he informed you he could change his appearance but hadn’t done it much. It took energy to appear on the mortal pane, more so if his appearance was altered.

Still, you’ve learned Seokjin will do pretty much anything to commit to a bit. His brand of haunting tends to border on comical. Putting his arms on backwards, headless juggling, vomiting wine – really anything is fair game if not truly grotesque. By now, you’ve seen his whole gambit, which is how you can say today’s performance was lackluster.

Sprawled on the chaise, one foot dangling, Seokjin looks every bit of the tragic lothario. Again, you can’t help but wonder whether he’s gained permanence since the last time you saw him. You could almost swear the chaise sinks under the weight of his frame.

“What is it?” he demands, lazily pushing himself upward.

Something in your chest flutters, although you ignore it. Arms crossed, you fix him with a look of disdain. It’s sinful for Seokjin to look as good as he does – and the worst part is, you know it’s not an illusion.

After you met the third time, you Googled his name along with the house and found multiple hits. Seokjin Kim was killed on October 31st, 1978, by Nathanial Elliot, the leader of the Sunny Days cult. Both Seokjin’s parents joined two years prior, and he’d tried unsuccessfully to convince them to leave by mail and phone.

Eventually, he visited in person and convinced them to go – unfortunately, Nathanial caught wind of the situation and killed Seokjin before this could happen. You saw photos of Seokjin from then and can confirm he was always devastatingly handsome. Often, you’ve wondered if he left someone behind – a wife or a girlfriend – but can’t bring yourself to ask. You aren’t sure which answer would hurt more.

Regardless, you know Seokjin was missed. His parents were the ones who took down the Sunny Days cult, putting their leader behind bars for killing their son. Seokjin admitted once that they tried to tear this house down. They didn’t know he was tied to the grounds, and he didn’t want to tell them. It would’ve been harder for them to move on, he explained, and your heart broke a little.

Not long after that, you accidentally let it slip that Seokjin had a scent. It made him howl with laughter, nearly falling down the front stairs – not that this would’ve hurt him. From then on, Seokjin showed off his growing ability to move solid objects by leaving oranges for you in the house whenever you came. Only another of his practical jokes but lately, it’s made your skin hot to think of.

You realized you felt more than you should for him last month when he saved you from falling. Determined to clear out the cellar, your entire foot went through the first step and Seokjin pulled you to safety.

“Careful,” he murmured, one arm wrapped around your waist. Gently, he eased you backwards and onto the landing. “The top step is rotted through. You’ll need to call in someone to fix that.”

Unable to speak, you nodded and quickly disentangled. Each place he had touched, your skin tingled, and not at all unpleasantly. Since that day, your feelings have only worsened. Sometimes, you wonder if he knows.

Sometimes you wonder whether he feels the same, no matter how hopeless it is.

Heaving a great sigh, Seokjin stands from the couch. Lifting both arms, he stretches this way and that like an overgrown cat. The end of his shirt comes untucked, displaying a flat strip of skin you refuse to acknowledge.

Forcing your gaze to his face, you lift a single brow. Weeks after meeting, you considered Seokjin your friend, or at least an acquaintance. Now, you can’t call this friendship, but not because things between you have worsened. It’s because the more time you spend together, the more you find yourself wishing for something impossible. Something more.

“You know what,” you tell him. “There’s no need to scare off every potential buyer.”

Seokjin pauses, then lowers his arms. “There’s a need when they’re terrible. I’m the one forced to live with them for eternity, not you.”

“It’s not an eternity, though,” you tried to joke. “Eventually, they’ll die – or, so one would presume.”

Seokjin’s face hardens. Before you can take another breath, he’s standing before you. “Much better,” he says, his voice like steel. “I love being reminded that, while the world continues to age around me, I never will. I’ll simply stay on this godforsaken plot of land until the earth is destroyed by its own inhabitants. How long do you think that’ll take, Y/N? One decade? Two?”

Eyes wide, you stare at him in shock.

Seokjin has never spoken to you like this before. Usually, he’s far more cavalier about his reality, easily accepting the fact that he’s a ghost. Never once has he ranted about the world passing by. In fact, Seokjin frequently throws in your face that you’ll soon have more wrinkles than him.

For the first time, you wonder if all that is a front. If perhaps, deep down, all his lackadaisicalness is merely a cover for a deeper kind of fear.

Slowly, you move closer. “I didn’t mean to be dismissive,” you murmur. “Of course, I don’t want you to be forced to live with people you hate. I just meant…”

You trail off, uncertain and Seokjin’s face softens. He moves even closer, his scent comforting you in a way you can’t explain. In a way it shouldn’t be.

“I’ll never get used to this,” you sigh.

You aren’t sure why you’re speaking so softly. Possibly due to his proximity and possibly due to the look in his eyes, studying you as though you’re the impossibility, and not him. Dust motes trail through the air when Seokjin lifts a hand.

With bated breath, you watch as he reaches towards you. At the last second, he shifts and lightly brushes your jaw.

Sharply, you inhale because you feel it. You feel him.

“Seokjin,” you whisper. “What are you…”

Gently shushing, he leans in, and you feel his breath, feather-light, across your skin. Utterly shocked, you go still. It’s his breath that you feel. Breath that shouldn’t exist, according to logic.

Slowly, his gaze drops and stays on your lips. If Seokjin can’t read minds, he must hear your heart racing. The sound of it is all-consuming, drowning out rational thought.

“You want to know what I’m waiting for?” he murmurs, his gaze lifting. “I’m waiting for someone to look at this… house the way you do.”

“A lot of people have liked the house, Seokjin. People who –”

“I don’t want you to sell this house."

Startled, you stop. “Why not?”

His expression twists, revealing his vulnerability. “I think you know.”

Roughly, you exhale.

Yes. You do know. It’s the same reason you’ve half-assed the last six showings at this address. It’s why you keep people from looking, and when they insist, barely attempt to stifle Seokjin’s shenanigans. You could have come earlier today and requested Seokjin to be on good behavior. He would have done it. For you, he would have.

Which is exactly why you didn’t ask.

“I… want to hear you say it,” you say, so low, you’re surprised that he hears.

Achingly slow, Seokjin’s hand slips from your jaw to your neck. When he pulls you closer, you can feel the weight of his hand, the solid pressure that comes from his fingers on your skin.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“I don’t want you to go,” Seokjin murmurs, his lips close to your ear. “If someone else buys this house, you’d stop showing it. You wouldn’t come here again, and I can’t leave these grounds. If someone else buys this place” – his breath hitches – “I won’t see you again. I can stomach eternity, Y/N, but not without you.”

“Seokjin.” His name leaves your lips as a whisper, or prayer.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever…” Eyes opening, you look up. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Your voice breaks. “That might make it real. What I want can’t be real, so if I say it out loud, it might vanish and right now, it exists in this tentative space. We exist in this space.”

Lightly, his thumb strokes your throat, and you feel your knees buckle. Every callous, every touch feels so horribly real, it’s making it difficult to remember why this can’t be.

“I’ve stopped wondering what’s real and what’s not,” Seokjin murmurs, his gaze tracing your mouth. “Most people say I shouldn’t exist and yet, here I am. They say I shouldn’t be here, able to touch you like this and yet, I am. They say I shouldn’t–”

Rising on tiptoe, you cut him off with your kiss. Seokjin shudders, his lips parted and warm in the shock of the moment.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to stare at you in wonder.

Before you can respond, he returns, his kiss wild and fierce. Your own desire surges, touching him hesitantly at first, and then with full abandon. Hands sliding up his chest, over his shoulders, your fingers curl in his hair to anchor him to you.

Cupping your face, Seokjin pulls your body to his. His touch is reverent, deifying while his hands travel lower to land on your waist. His body curves above yours, catching your gasps with the tip of his tongue. Seokjin feels solid beneath you – solid, and warm, and painfully real.

His mouth moves to your jaw, trailing heat down your throat and across your bared collar. Shivers of pleasure shoot through you as he walks you backwards, pressing your spine to the wall. Briefly – wondrously – you laugh, the sound caught again by his kiss.

Within minutes, you’re panting, heart beating wildly as you grip his hair tighter. Seokjin’s leg presses forward, pushing your thighs apart and you nearly dissolve. He moves harder, faster, as though scared that you’ll vanish. This is the opposite of disappearing, though.

This is together, beneath, and on top as –

“Shit,” Seokjin growls, the sound torn from his throat.

Dazed, you look sideways and realize his hand has gone through the wall.

Seokjin stares at his wrist, his chest rising and falling. Everything you can feel is solid, but his hand sinks through the wall about an inch deep. It’s hard to concentrate with him above you, looking like that. Seokjin’s hair remains mussed by your hands, proving you touched him – however briefly.

Lips thinning, Seokjin pulls his hand out. Purposefully, he lays his palm flat on the wall but it’s clear to you both that he’s concentrating. Some of his pressure dissipates.

“I – fuck,” he exhales, dropping his chin.

Gently, you soothe a strand of hair behind his ear. This is the first time you’ve seen Seokjin anything less than immaculate and goddamn, if it doesn’t look good on him. That’s making it difficult to focus on the matter at hand.

The matter at hand. Ha.

Thinking this, a snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. Stunned, Seokjin glances up with wide eyes.

“Did you just… snort?” he asks, incredulous.

You shake your head, and then nod, sheepish. “Um, yes. I did. It’s just…” Now that you’ve started, you can’t help but continue. “I can’t believe the hottest make-out session of my life ended with your fucking hand through a wall.”

Seokjin stares for a long moment before – impossibly – his chest starts to shake. Before long, you’re both laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of the situation. Once your laughter has faded though, comfortable silence remains.

Pulling you into his chest, Seokjin’s hand strokes your neck. “I don’t know what this means,” he admits with a sigh.

“Me, either.”

“I do know I want to do that again.”

“Same,” you say, pulling back.

“But…” Seokjin hesitates. “Y/N. You know I’m not… real, right?”

Your heart sinks to your shoes. “You’re real to me.”

“I know.” He speaks softly. “But I –”

Lifting a hand, you press a finger to his lips. “Don’t,” you warn. “Please. I don’t want to think about the future right now. I know I don’t have eternity, but I don’t want what I have without you.”

Something in his gaze breaks but Seokjin merely nods, letting silence fall again. You fear that he’ll vanish, leaving you alone but he merely exhales. The breath brushes your skin.

“Alright,” Seokjin murmurs, winding his hand with yours. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

The ghost of a smile crosses your lips. “What if… we talk about me buying this house?”

#bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfiction #bts fanfiction #seokjin au #jin au #bts au #bts halloween

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jinkookspencil · 5 months

Text

keep playing | ksj

jin helps you with your game…

suggestive jin drabble / established relationship / ~300 words / happy birthday my love seokjinnie <3

••••••

Again?

“Jin! Pin puzzle!” you yell from the living room couch, hoping the call reached your fiancee’s ears, wherever he may be in the apartment, your eyes still glued to the puzzle on the screen.

“Let me wash my hands,” he replies loudly from the nearby kitchen, appearing at your side a minute later and immediately snatching the remote controller from your hands.

You watch the screen closely as Jin carefully moves the pin to its rightful position - a seemingly easy puzzle, but entirely reliant on patience and a precise positioning of the dual joystick knobs, and different every time. It was something you could never figure out, a major inconvenience considering they had to be solved in order to unlock the best gear and in-game currency. And the puzzles only got trickier as you progressed into the game. Luckily, you had a gamer for a boyfriend.

“Just one, fuck, ahhhhhhhhh,” Jin moans, the completed puzzle coming to life on screen when he hands back the controller.

“I don’t know how you solve them so quickly,” you mutter to your boyfriend.

“I’m good with my fingers aren’t I?”

A wide smirk is on his face when you turn to look at him - it’s a smug look you could only answer by rolling your eyes in admittance. Laughing now, Jin plops down next to you, and his self-proclaimed excellent fingers scratch at your thighs as he watches you gather the unlocked loot onscreen.

No urgent mission. Not in the midst of a sidequest, Jin notes, scanning the television screen.

“Sit on my lap,” he whispers, bunching up your dress with his fingers.

Reminded of just what Jin could do with his fingers, you willingly sit between his thighs and spread yours before he could inch his hand between them and graze there in permission, as he always does. He slips his fingers beneath the fabric at your core within seconds.

“Keep playing.”

“Mmmh, you too.”

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taehyungsgrowl · 1 year

Text

roses - ksj x reader

valentine's day w jin

pairing: kim seokjin x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut

rating: 18+ // minors dni

word count: 2k

warnings: seokjin is a tease, hickies, oral (fem. receiving), p in v penetration, cream pie, slight choking, overall valentines day fluff, mostly pwp

A/N: hello! i was originally going to try and post a tae x reader fic i've been working on but its february and i think a lot of us associate jin w roses and i associate roses w valentines day and so... here we are! a short and cute little drabble! hope you enjoy! sending you all lots of love!

before the soft morning sun had the chance to wake you, soft fingers gently trailed up your shirt, raising goosebumps along your skin. his plush lips leaving chaste little kisses on your exposed shoulder until your eyes fluttered open.

"good morning, honey," you knew he hadn't been awake long due to the low rasp of his voice.

"mhmm," you pouted at him, "'it's too early," you whined, cuddling up closer to him to feel the warmth radiating from his body as you laid your head on his chest, your eyes shutting as you inhale his scent.

feeling his chest shake with his low chuckle immediately sent butterflies to your stomach - you don't know how you lucked out getting to spend the rest of your life with seokjin. he was full of light and love to give - how could he not have swept you off your feet?

"just wanted to wish you a happy valentine's day, baby." he pulled your waist closer to him to press a kiss on top of your head.

"oh my god," your eyes opened wide realizing it was february 14th. "baby," you sat up and finally looked around the room. the playful scold you had for seokjin for beating you to say it first was caught in your throat as you took in your bedroom.

roses.

roses - everywhere.

the soft glow of the sunrise coming in through the window made the white roses look ivory and the red roses even more crimson.

dozens and dozens of roses in clear glass vases filled your room. all over the floor, and more vases filled with them on the nightstand tables by your bed. it looked like a literal flower shop.

"wh-" you weren't even sure what to ask or what to say. when did he have time to do this?

"jin..." he laughed at your speechless expression, "that’s more roses than i’ve seen in my life." you laughed, adjusting yourself on the bed to pull him in for a kiss. your small hands cupping either side his face to kiss him. you felt him smiling against your kiss, his own hand finding a home firmly placed on your lower back.

"when did you even have time to do this?" you mumble in between kisses.

"you're a heavier sleeper than you think you are," he bit down on your lower lip playfully.

"well," you rolled your eyes, "i love it!" you lightly pushed on his chest until he was laying back on his back, head propped up by his pillows.

"i hope you like your present as much as i loved mine," you swung one of your legs over his waist to straddle him.

"who said i'm done giving you my present?" the corner of his lips twitched as he fought a smile. "got a lot more in store for you, honey." the hand that rested on your back moved lower to lightly smack your ass.

"jin..." you whined, but really loving just how much of a romantic your husband was. even after years of being together, he still made you feel special every day - valentines day or not.

before you had the chance to bend down and kiss him, he grabbed your thighs and flipped you both around until you were flat on your back, his broad body hovering above you.

he noticed the little crease between your brows as you frowned at him but quickly kissed it away, making you giggle as he continued to pepper your face with kisses.

"love you so much," he mumbled against your face.

jin took your chin between his thumb and index finger to tilt your head up enough to kiss you deeply. you felt the plush of his tongue swiping along your lip, pleading for you to part them. you sighed into the kiss, letting his tongue lead your kiss.

too distracted by his pillowy lips against yours, you didn't feel him shift until he could reach one of the nearby roses on the nightstand.

you looked up at him in awe as he pulled away. messy black hair in disarray from sleeping, pink swollen lips, lust filled eyes blown wide. it amazed you how little he had to try to look so breathtaking.

jin brought the rose up to your nose for you smell it before he slowly dragged it down your neck. the soft petals tickled your skin as he dragged it softly along your cleavage. his eyes shifted from yours to wherever the rose drew patterns along your body.

he noticed your hands wander down to the hem of your silk nightgown, in an attempt to take it off. his free hand caught your wrist, stopping you.

"keep it on. you look so pretty in silk," he leaned down again and placed a sweet kiss along your collarbone before sinking his teeth into your skin.

he felt his cock twitch in his pants as he heard you whine for his love bite.

he continued to drag the rose down your body. you sighed, feeling the petals run across your thighs. jin slowly pushed your night gown up, bunching it around your hips to reveal your panties.

the dark, wet spot forming at the center of your pink panties gave you away. you squirmed on the bed, wanting - needing jin to touch you.

"please?" you batted your lashes at him, giving him the sweetest look.

jin's deep and sleepy laugh rumbled in the little space between you two. he wanted to give you everything you wanted - wanted to give in to your each and every demand as soon as it fell from your lips - but there was something so intoxicating about having you beg for him that always made him drag it out.

his free hand reached down between your legs, taking the waistband of your panties between his fingers and pulling it - only to make it snap back against your skin.

"i got you, baby," he continued to toy with you - dragging his large hand to grip your hip and trailing it down until he reached your thigh to make you spread them further for him. touching you everywhere but where you wanted him to.

"jin..." you sighed, your hips slightly raising off the bed in a poor attempt of getting any friction.

there could not be a more ideal way of waking up. you thanked your lucky stars for every day you got to wake up besides the love of your life.

jin continued to use the rose to tease you. the light petals raised goosebumps along your inner thighs as he dragged it up to your core. feather light strokes against your panties weren't enough. you needed his fingers. his tongue. his cock. you needed more.

yet still, the soft brush of the rose against your clothed pussy made you gasp. immediately, his eyebrow raised and his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"hey," he paused to press a quick kiss to your parted lips, "i love you."

"i love you more," your eyes met his and you could swear you saw your entire world in them.

jin's cock strained in his pajama pants - he was just as needy as you were. he finally dropped the rose, letting it fall against the stark white bedding.

he settled in between your legs, holding them apart with his hands. you felt his warmth breath hit against your dampened panties, making you shiver.

"baby," you hummed.

soon enough, his warm, wet tongue was laid flat against your panties, sloppily kissing your clad cunt.

“mhmm,” he sighed into your pussy. the sight of seokjin’s bare shoulders nestled between your thighs, his dark hair falling on to his face, tip of his nose bumping against your covered clit was almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“always so sweet,” he peeled your panties down in one swift motion, “so sweet for me.”

once again, his tongue was on your pussy, licking up the arousal that had pooled in your core. his pouty lips kissed and sucked at your most sensitive parts, making you melt on his tongue. he kept his hands on your thighs, keeping your spread open for him - even as your legs threatened to close around him.

your hands found his hair and fingers were tangled in his dark locks. you gripped his hair for support, your back arching off the bed. it felt as if the harder your tugged the more feverishly jin sucked on your clit.

"oh god," you moaned out his name, your heartbeat racing faster and faster against your chest. the room was filled with obscene wet sounds as he devoured and worshipped you.

as you reached your climax, jin lapped up your cum, licking you clean. soft and gentle kisses were placed on your pussy as you spasmed beneath him.

"oh my god," you repeated again, completely out of breath.

you reached down and tugged him up towards you, ardently kissing him, tasting yourself off his tongue.

jin's cock was throbbing to the point that he couldn't wait any longer to sink himself into your wet walls. he reached his own waistband and clumsily hurried to pull himself free from the tight constraints of his underwear.

"fuck, baby," he hissed, dragging his tip along your wet slit, slowly pumping himself in his fist.

you took in a sharp breath as he stretched you open. jin grabbed your thighs and hoisted them around him to bring himself closer to him. your feet dug into his lower back as you moaned out his name.

you couldn't help but have your eyes roll back feeling him go deeper and deeper.

“fuck,” he cursed under his breath as you took his length. he stayed there for a second, feeling the way your walls pulsed around his length. jin started to move his hips, his cock easily sliding in and partially out of your pussy.

"open your eyes for me," he asked, his voice hoarse as he held back another moan.

you opened your eyes to meet the depths of his dark eyes. jin felt himself throb inside of you just from that look in your eyes. you searched for his hand and brought it up to you neck, nodding slightly, granting him permission.

“god,” he choked out, wrapping his hand around your neck. A loud moan left your pretty lips traveling like music to his ears. jin tapped his thumb on your lips, letting you take it in your mouth as he applied pressure to your neck.

you swiped your tongue over the pad of his finger and he felt himself about to burst. “so close, baby,” he rutted his hips into yours. you moved in perfect synchronization, becoming one.

you both came hard as your sweaty bodies pressed together, lost in a sea of blankets and kisses.

jin let his body collapse on yours, letting the comfort of his body weight lay on yours, his head resting perfectly on your chest. you softly traced little patterns against his bare back as your breathing slowed.

"still mad i woke you up so early?" he teased tickling your side to make you squirm underneath him.

"i wasn't mad!" you squealed, wiggling under him.

"good," he kissed your neck - neither one of you having any plans to get out of bed anytime soon. just simply existing in each others arms.

"happy valentine's day," he whispered against your skin.

---

ah! i didn't think i was gonna finish this before the 14th, but i'm glad i did! tysm for reading! lmk what you think!

tagging: @desertsunflower00 @gimmethatagustd @wonhosmistress

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peachypinkygloss · 1 year

Note

i’m a whore for dilf! jin yet he’s also a lowk sub :( do u think u can write a smut w that ? 🤭 maybe a little bit of overstimulation, mommy kink (a need at this point), and tit play 😳 this would be a great bday gift !! thank u so much <3

dilf + subby Seokjin? 🤔 just- yes, totally!! such an interesting combo... hope you like it and happy birthday lovely 🥳xox thank you for your request 💜

Romantic Lover

pairing: dilf!seokjin x actress!reader

genre: smut, eventual established relationship

word count: 3k

warnings: sub seokjin/dom reader, unprotected sex, oral (m), breasts play, mommy kink, praising, brief overstimulation.

You were joining Seokjin on a date at a fancy restaurant. It was your fifth, maybe sixth - honestly, you didn't remember - time eating together, but tonight was special. In his invitation text he sent you this morning, he told you he would bring his seven-year-old daughter.

The first time you both met, he informed you right away about him being a father. You were surprised to hear that such a young and beautiful man as Seokjin was a dad, but after spending a lot of time with him, you learned that his little girl was the best thing that has ever happened to him.

It was endearing to listen to him talk about his daughter proudly and with so much love. He was a great father as you could see and you loved that caring side of him. You were still on the stage of getting to know each other before deciding whether or not this relationship should be official.

You liked Seokjin very much, but as an independent woman who lived on her own since nineteen, it was difficult for you to engage yourself to someone. Nonetheless, your feelings for him were growing at a fast pace and seeing his daughter for the first time really enchanted you.

You made your way into the restaurant after your chauffeur dropped you off at the right location. You hide yourself being a pair of sunglasses even though it was dark outside, but as a famous actress you couldn't have people recognizing you. There were small chances of that happening though, since you reserved a table at an expensive place. Clients didn't care about you as they are themselves wealthy people or celebrities.

"Hello, a reservation in the name of Miss Yln." You smiled at the waitress as you followed her to the table. You discerned the handsome shape of Seokjin as he greeted you with a smile and your eyes shifted to the little form sat next to him.

"This is the menu and the kids menu right here." She pointed to the smaller version of the regular menu with bright and colourful images. "I'll come back later for the drinks." The woman politely smiled as she left your table to continue her job.

You took the seat in front of Seokjin and you removed your glasses, settling them down next to you. "Hi, I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long." You crossed your legs under the table, careful to not hit him with your foot.

"Of course not, Yn. Right, Miseon?" Seokjin turned his head in her direction and she glimpsed at him then back at you as she shook her head from side to side.

You laughed softly at her adorable face. Her pigtails swung around when she moved her head, red ribbons holding her hair in place. "Hello, Miseon. I'm Yn, your dad must have talked about me before, didn't he?" You perched your arm over the table, holding your hand open for her to take.

Her little fingers wrapped around your palm and Seokjin watched the interaction joyfully. "Yes, all the time... You're the woman we watch on TV." You shook your hand with hers, nodding at what she said. "Dad's cheeks are always red when he sees you on screen!" You raised your eyebrows at her revelation, looking at Seokjin with amused eyes while you backed your arm away from his daughter.

"Is that so?" You giggled with Miseon, observing the man shyly looking away. "Interesting to know." You licked your lips, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your palm.

"Why do you snitch on me like that?" He whined as he gently nudged his daughter's shoulder. She laughed at him, giving him a tap on his bicep as revenge.

The diner went great and you would even say that you might had created a bond with Miseon. She's the sweetest kid you've ever met. You wondered what it would be to be her step-mother, if she would end up calling you 'mom', considering you as a maternal figure. It was probably too soon to be thinking about that, but you couldn't help yourself.

Seokjin left her at her grandma's house for the night and he drove the both of you to your penthouse. It felt like a habit by this time, going to your house or his to spend the rest of the night in the arms of each other.

You were already excited when you entered your house, undressing him of his leather jacket, removing your heels, kissing each other until you reached the door of your bedroom.

The first time you slept together, you were pleasantly surprised to discover Seokjin's secrets. What a man like him, a great and wonderful father, would like to do in bed? A lot of things.

He was the literal definition of 'dad I'd like to fuck' with just a little twist. He was gentle, kind, generous, funny, hot and whiny. He was putty in your hands, squirming under your touch, calling you sinful names. At the end of each day, Seokjin only wanted to be taken care of like he did for everyone else.

You pushed him on your bed, his tall body slumping down on the mattress. He levelled himself on his elbows, watching you kneel in front of him, your hands caressing his thighs. He looked at you with his mouth ajar, his fluffy bangs covering his forehead.

"You've been a good boy, Jinnie." You hooked two fingers under his collar and pulled him to you, brushing your lips against his ear. "Such a good boy." You emphasized, smirking at him then pushing him back on his elbows. He gazed at you with so much lust in his eyes it sent shivers down your spine.

You palmed his crotch as you heard him exhale loudly, his hooded eyes looking at your movements closely. You unbuckled his belt and your manicured hands unbuttoned his trousers while you looked at him in the eyes. You pinched the zipper between your thumb and index finger and pulled it down.

You deviously smiled at him and sneaked your hand under his beige sweater, eliciting a small gasp from Seokjin. "Why don't you get rid of that, mh?" He didn't wait a second before passing the garment over his head, throwing it somewhere on the floor. "Great. Now, let me take care of you, Jinnie. You deserved it, don't you think?"

"Yeah..." He lifted up his hips for you as you tugged down his pants and boxers, joining his sweater laying on your bedroom's floor.

Completely naked in front of you, he felt vulnerable and it aroused him very much. You could do anything to him, he wouldn't complain, he'd say yes to everything. Your hands were so soft, he just liked having them on his body, making him feel good. Giving you control wasn't scary or humiliating, it was relieving because he knew he was in safe hands. Your hands.

You placed yourself comfortably between his legs, laying your forearms on his thighs as you circled the base of his dick with your palm. Seokjin's was just long and big enough to make any girl scream, just enough to make you drool and feel heat at the pit of your stomach. He was perfect, literally.

You swiftly ran your fingers up and down his shaft, making him harder and harder until he stood tall proudly. He let out soft moans as you twisted your wrist, stroking his tip slowly, some pre-cum leaking on your hand.

"A-ah... Fuck..." He formed fists onto the bed sheets, the satin material crumpling under the strength of his hands. You slid your palm down his hard cock, approaching your mouth to his tip. You gave him a lick along the whole length of his erection, the salty taste of his pre-cum lingering on your tastebuds. "Mmh-" Seokjin threw his head backwards, scrunching his eyes shut.

You took him in the warmth of your mouth, suckling on his tip and twirling your tongue on it. You bobbed your head, never going lower on him and still holding the base of his cock. You knew how much sensitive his tip was and you couldn't help yourself from teasing him, bringing him over the edge and never letting him fall.

"Shit. Please, just- just..." He whimpered, incapable of continuing his sentence. You understood what he wanted nonetheless and took more of him into your mouth. You sank down on his dick, engulfing his length until your lips reached your hand. "Oh God, yes, thank you..."

He gripped your hair with his left hand, pushing your head down. A loud moan escaped his lips when you gagged around his big cock, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You inhaled through your nose, concentrating on your gag reflex as he held your hair tighter between his long fingers.

You pulled out when you felt your throat burning from the intrusion of Seokjin's erection. You passed a hand through your hair, pushing them back while swallowing to ease your thirsty throat. You wiped the drool off your chin and licked the excess from your lips.

You then stared severely at Seokjin, you didn't like the way he steadied your head over his dick. You knew it was harmless, he didn't push with force, but he still went too far. He cannot be selfish.

As you kept your mouth in a straight line, you stood up on your feet. "I decided to reward you for your good behaviour. That's how you thank me?" You accused him with a stern tone, moving your arm to hold his jaw.

He blinked a couple of times, frowning. "I'm sorry." You locked your eyes with him for some seconds before backing away from him. "I didn't mean to..." He insisted, watching you slipping out of your tight dress.

His eyes sparkled when he noticed the red panties you were wearing without a bra on. "Lay your back against the bed frame." You instructed him and he executed himself. You didn't want to punish him, he had good intentions, it'd be unfair to restrict him in any way.

You joined him by walking around your bed, knees dipping down on the mattress as you straddled his lap. Thighs on each side of his body, he didn't dare to lay a finger on you. You wouldn't have minded it, but he was trying to get on your good side, which meant doing absolutely nothing that could make you mad.

"Do you want me to forgive you?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. He nodded and he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. You tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, patting his hair soothingly. "Beg me for it, then."

He took a second to look at your features, his lips parting to follow your order. "Please, I'm so sorry." You slid your palms up his chest, resting them on his broad shoulders. "I just want you so bad, it's difficult to keep my hands for myself." You wanted to fuck him so hard at this point, sink down on his cock until he came deeply into you. "Please, mommy. Forgive me."

He was already forgiven anyway, no need to pretend.

"Oh, Jinnie, you know I can't stay mad at you for too long." You smiled, stealing a kiss from him, his plush heart-shaped lips pressing against yours.

His large hands instantly found your hips, squeezing the flesh with his fingers. They lifted up to your boobs, swiping his thumbs over your perky nipples and your moans were muffled by Seokjin's mouth on yours. You started to grind on him, rolling your crotch against his hard cock, left alone since you pulled it out of your mouth.

Your lips parted from his, grinding your clothed pussy faster against his erection, your movements becoming needier and jerkier. His hands didn't leave your breasts even though the friction you created made him more sensitive, whines escaping his mouth.

Your tits bounced slightly on your chest from the incessant rutting of your hips against him, his large hands following you, flicking your buds between two fingers. You couldn't keep the teasing for any longer, yourself being overwhelmed by his delicate touch on the most intimate parts of your body.

"I want you to fuck me, Jin." You said between moans and you stopped moving, quickly hooking your panties to the side, offering him your hole. He glimpsed down, your clit was throbbing and your pussy was dripping wet.

"Everything you want, mommy." He smirked at you playfully, aligning his cock with your cunt.

You kept your balance by holding on his shoulders, watching him entering his tip into your warmth. He hissed and frowned when your walls hugged him tightly, taking him whole willingly inch by inch. You finally sat down on him and he couldn't hold in his whines, sounding almost like he was in pain, but he was simply in utter pleasure.

You felt his dick twitch inside of you, at ease between the comfort of your silky walls. You moved your hips up and down when he seemed ready, his naked back against your bed frame as sweat was falling down his forehead.

"Fuck. You feel so good, mommy. So good..." He whimpered, still playing with your tits, his palms brushing against your hard and sensitive nipples.

You ignored him, concentrating on jumping on his cock, his length deliciously rubbing against your walls. Seokjin cupped your two breasts in each one of his hands, bringing a tit to his mouth. You first felt his hot breath hitting your bud, sending goosebumps all over your skin. He then darted his tongue out and gave your nipple a wet lick, closing his mouth around it after.

You moaned and placed a hand on the back of his head, your fingers gripping on his hair tightly. The other stayed on his shoulder, nails digging into his soft skin, leaving little crescent forms. He suckled on your nipple while holding your breast up to his mouth, his saliva coating your flesh. He played with the other, pinching your perky bud between his index and middle finger.

Your hips rolled on him, his dick sliding in and out of your pussy, arousal dripping down to his balls. You rode his cock with fast movements, your hole was quivering and your clit was throbbing, his tip hitting your sensitive spot each time he bottomed out.

"Jin- Oh, God!" The back of your thighs were starting to burn from the slapping of your skin against Seokjin's, but you didn't stop, instead you intensified your thrusts. He looked up at you where he was sucking on your nipple and sneaked a hand between your legs, massaging your clitoris in circular motions. "Yes! That's it..." You praised him, encouraging him to continue.

The knot in your belly was tightening, threatening to explode. You were near your end and it only made you more eager to reach your high faster. With you on top, his dick reached deeper and therefore, brushing perfectly against your magic spot.

You gripped his hair, pulling his mouth away from your chest. His hair was messy, his cheeks were all red and his lips were swollen, glistening from his saliva. He looked so hot and you couldn't help yourself from kissing his plushy lips.

With one last thrust, you came, clenching around Seokjin's cock and moaning into his mouth. Your thighs were shaking and hands trembling, riding his dick lazily until you drove off of your high.

"Shit, shit..." He backed away, his head rolling backwards, hitting the bed frame. He gripped your hips, squeezing the flesh and you felt his erection pulsating, begging for a little bit of friction.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of that..." You promised him while you slipped his cock out of your soppy cunt, placing yourself between his legs.

He hissed at the beautiful sight you were offering him, hand around the base of his shaft, lips kissing his wet tip. "Aah- fuck. Yes, please." He whined, bucking his hips onto your fist.

You laid a hand on his thigh to prevent him from moving too much and gave him the blowjob you denied him at the beginning. You bounced your head up and down his length, lips sliding easily on him, making the whole thing ten times more pleasurable.

His hand found your head again, but this time he forced himself to not push, only twisting strands of hair between his fingers. Your scalp hitched from his grip, but you took the pain gladly as you sank his cock into the warmth of your mouth.

"Mommy, fuck- Gonna cum..." He breathed out, his balls tightening, about to release his load onto your tongue. You went faster, hollowing your cheeks and clamping your lips around him. "Shit!"

He cried out and he shot his hot cum into your mouth, the salty and sour taste of him lingering on your tongue. You milked him dry, pulling him out and swallowing everything. He looked at you with admiration, his large hand caressing the hot skin of your cheek.

You grinned when he sucked air through his teeth, your palm sliding up and down his poor cock. He whined, squirming a little at the overstimulation. "Too much..." He managed to spill the two words out of his mouth, eyes scrunching shut.

You licked your lips as your gaze flew down to his crotch, his big dick glistening, wet noises sounding through the room. You only stopped when he tried to close his legs, but didn't succeed as your body was still laying in front of him.

"Shhh, it's okay, Jinnie." You kneeled, circling his shoulders with your arms. You brought him against you, pecking his lips softly.

After cleaning yourselves and you went to pee, you cuddled with Seokjin. Your cheek was squished against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Miseon really likes you, I think." He murmured and the corners of your lips instantly lifted up.

"I like her too." You confessed, tracing small patterns on his skin with your index finger. "You're a good dad, Jin." You turned your head to look at him and he was already staring at you, heart in his eyes. Your own skipped a beat.

"That's the best compliment ever." He smiled and you chuckled, kissing his lips. "Be my girlfriend, Yn."

There was only one thing you could answer. A simple word that would settle everything between you and Seokjin.

"Yes."

#requests #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts scenarios #seokjin x reader #bts drabble #seokjin smut #jin x reader #jin smut #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfic #jin fanfiction #jin imagine #jin drabble #seokjin imagine

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seokjinsonlyone · 2 years

Text

more niche boyfriend things i think bts would do

a/n: 🥺👉👈 you guys seemed to like the first one i did a lot and i’m clearly delusional so i figured the only thing better than one part would be two; don’t get any ideas tho they’re still mine 😤🤺

warnings: this is like 90% fluff but it does get a little raunchy in some parts nothing explicit but definitely some implied/suggestive scenarios

part 1 | part 2

namjoon:

insists on going for a walk in the rain; has an extra large umbrella that shelters you both but somehow mishandles it when a strong gust of wind blows and breaks it; you’re 80% water and 20% irritation when you finally make it back home but he cuddles you after your shower and makes it all better

sends you a copy of his schedule every week so you can coordinate for mandatory date nights

gets you the most expensive gifts like… all them sponsors and luxury brands chasing after his attention…. gucci, louis v, tiffany etc. they know they got it when they include a gift to you as well

his mind be all over the place so sometimes he just don’t be listening to you; it’s like he’ll only hear one part of your sentence and roll with it; like he could be going to the convenience store and ask if you want anything and you’ll be like “i want a matcha kitkat, but if they don’t have that bring me a reese’s” nd he’ll come back with a snickers bc they didn’t have the matcha kitkat; “😐” “what’s wrong?” “what did i ask for?” “i know but they were out of the matcha kitkat. you like snickers right?” “yes but i said if they were out get me a reese’s.” “oh.”

the type to show off your relationship; your privacy is respected of course but everyone gon know he got a girl; like traces of you all through his insta; clasped hands; a mirror selfie of you tucked into his side face pressed into his chest; you facing away from the camera as he holds out a flower he picked for you from the meadow you had a picnic in; whole fandom will be in flames

despite you constantly reassuring him that his financial contributions are more than enough and that you don’t mind taking care of the housework he wants to keep it as 50/50 as possible when it comes to chores; results in him sometimes coming home from work at like 1am and waking you up out of your sleep bc he decided that was the perfect time to vacuum

has a moderate obsession with your thighs especially if you’re on the thick side; loves resting a hand on one of them whenever you’re seated next to each other, before rubbing in small circles and playing his own personal game of chicken where he sees how far up you’ll let his hand wander squeezing the inner part at each check point; loves even more when you’re at home and he can pull you on top of him and his hands can move about with unrestricted access; loses his mind a bit trying to figure out which part of him he wants them wrapped around

long bike rides together <333

refuses to argue with you over the phone; like if y’all are texting or on call and start to get into it he’s gonna hit you with the “we should talk about this in person”; which is irritating bc sometimes you need to say what you need to say in that moment and if you do he’s just gonna take it, let you get whatever you need to say out but he won’t respond just gonna be like “i’ll be over at such and such time” when you’re finished; sometimes it’s immediately sometimes it’s hours later after work; you’re almost never as upset as you were in the moment and even if you are once you’re in his presence and he’s calmly trying to understand where you’re coming from, explain his side, and see what he can do to fix it you can’t stay upset; that was his plot the entire time

sometimes when he’s off diet you wake up at like midnight to use the bathroom and catch him in the kitchen leaned over the counter digging into a pint of ice cream; naturally you drift over to him wrapping your arms around his middle, head pressed in between his shoulder blades; he gently pries you off of his back and pulls you in front of him before pressing a kiss to your mouth; he tastes sweet just like the snack he’s eating and you decide then and there that you want some too; next bite he takes, you catch his wrist and direct the spoon towards your mouth; he doesn’t question it just hoists you onto the counter for easier accessibility and alternates between feeding you and himself until the ice cream is gone

seokjin:

likes it when you watch him play games; especially loves it when you prepare snacks for him while he’s playing and feed them to him during the rounds; secretly makes him simp for you harder

if you ever can’t come to a compromise about something in your relationship you make a decision via rock paper scissors; you do this for big and little things; for bigger decisions it’s usually used as a way to lighten the mood when tensions are rising and to draw out your true feelings on a matter

the type to hug you from behind, draping his arms over your shoulders and lean his weight onto you which is all cute and well and good except he won’t let go so when you wanna move you can’t really walk you gotta waddle slowly with him hanging off you trailing behind

decides to bake you a cake or brownies or something one day bc you said you’re craving sweets but refuses to actually follow an exact recipe bc he says cooking is something done with ur heart; learns soon after that cooking and baking are two different things; you do come home to sweets but it’s from a local bakery and you have to help him scrub out the mess he made in the oven

would be offended if you turnt up with any other bt21 merch aside from rj; like them tata slides and that shooky crossbody got to go it’s rj nation

surprises you with custom lingerie; will spend months secretly taking your measurements and talking to whatever designer to get the piece of his dreams made for you; probably some kind of pastel lacy mesh jewel encrusted body suit with like bows and garters or something whatever it is you can tell it’s expensive and luxurious and fits you like a glove; makes a whole event out of your wearing it for him; like plans a whole fancy date night properly wining and dining you in anticipation of the reveal; even tho he was very involved in the creation of the garment was aware of how pretty it was it’s nothing compared to how beautiful you are in it; when he sees you his jaw drops and his eyes bulge out of his skull, there’s no other thought or feeling other than how much he wants you; you’re up until the sun rises

he lets his guard down around you; he’s a bit of a clown around everyone else always joking and making the mood but around you he doesn’t feel the need to be performative so he’s more serious; he’s still funny, a clown, still jokes but he doesn’t feel like he always has to be that way around you he can just be and he loves you for that

not particularly romantic so he sometimes feels like he’s not doing enough for you and on a whim he’ll plan something super sweet like taking you to his family’s strawberry farm for a weekend or something

would find out you read manga bc of you complaining that you can’t find the next book in stores; decides to read between the lines and take that as you asking him to get you the next book; but instead of just buying you the one he buys you the entire series; “oh my god seokjin what did you do” “there was a discount for buying the whole set it made more sense!” “babe i don’t have anywhere to put all these” “don’t worry i got you”; so now you quite literally have a library in his house like a whole wall with a built in bookshelf filled with all the different manga (and other books) that you read; he keeps up with the release dates of ongoing series and buys them for you as soon as they come out without you even asking

if you’re at some kind of function where it’s loud and you’re trying to say something to him but he can’t hear you he’ll bend down slightly as you stand on your tip toes to reach his ear and rest his hand on your lower back to keep you steady; the hand stays even after the conversation is over keeping you glued to him the entire night; which when you agreed to date him you already contractually obligated yourself to be with him the entire night anyway but once he gets his hands on you he finds it hard to let go so he doesn’t; it calms his nerves 🥺

yoongi:

has a snack station in his room where he keeps water bottles, gatorades, bananas etc. bc you’re prone to muscle cramps; always massages your legs until the cramp goes away

whenever he’s off and you’re not you always come home to a nice hot home cooked meal

not the most expressive so when you tell him you love him he doesn’t always say it back but he always acknowledges it; a kiss on the lips; squeezing your hand held tightly in his; his arm around your hips pulling you closer to him; so even if he doesn’t always say it back you know he feels it

if you liked to sing he would learn your favorite songs on piano or guitar so he could play while you sang and have your own little homemade karaoke sessions

complains when you randomly give him a weird nickname like suga buga and will only call him that for like two weeks; says it’s embarrassing but he secretly loves it; when you tell him you’ll stop if he really doesn’t like it he’ll look off into the middle distance and be like “no it’s alright call me whatever you want”

first thing yoongi does in the morning is reach for you; he slides his hand under your shirt and rubs your tummy then pulls you closer to him and nuzzles his face in your neck; it grounds him reminds him that he’s there you’re there and if he doesn’t have anything else he has you

when he feels like he’s up for a change he lets you dye his hair whatever color you want; doesn’t complain about the pictures you take with him in a poncho and his hair wrapped up

he loves when you dress up for him; like the hair done makeup done little black dress number is gon do it for him every time; when you come out the room all done up and are grabbing the rest of your belongings making sure you’re ready to go he’ll spend a good 2 minutes just checking you out; and you’re just standing there looking at him like “😳 what?” ; and then he’ll walk over to you and pull you flush against him, his hand gently tracing the lining of your panties over your dress and be like “you look good baby”

he’s not stupid he knows a good thing when he’s got it and you’re a very good thing; but he’s independent, needs a lot of time to himself and sometimes that gets good to him and he forgets to prioritize you; he doesn’t always realize that tho so when you complain about him always filling his time with things that aren’t you it irritates him and even if he may want to pop off a little in the moment he tries not to; instead he takes some time to calm down and think over what you said and when he realizes you’re right invites you to join him for some of his lessons; so even tho you had no plans for self improvement you recognize he’s extending a proverbial olive branch and are now doing pilates with him and learning japanese

the type to clear his schedule for a couple days if you ever got sick; doesn’t care about the possibility of him getting sick too and will wait on you hand and foot like the only time you’re getting out of bed is to go to the bathroom; he makes you soup (will feed you it spoon by spoon if you pouted enough), keeps a glass of water on standby to keep you hydrated, and has your medicine ready every 4 hours until you’re the picture of health again

hoseok:

helps you get better storage and organization solutions for your room when he sees how messy it is; creates and decorates a cute little cleaning schedule and sticks it on the mini fridge you have in your room

creates a private instagram account so he can follow you and like and comment on all your posts

you know he wants to take things farther when you’re sitting in his lap making out and his hands start roaming; they start off at your hips but then slide up your back little by little until he’s toying with the clasps of your bra but he doesn’t undo it just yet; brings his hands back down and slowly lifts your shirt stopping briefly when he makes his way back up to your bra gently tracing over the design embroidered on the cups before finally breaking apart so the shirt can come off and the real fun can begin

takes you out for brunch at least twice a month like…. breakfast at 11 is gon do it for him every time; cuts up your fruit and sprays whipped cream on your waffles in the shape of a smiley face

has a note on his phone where he keeps all the information he’s learned about you (i.e. your likes, dislikes, things you want, places you want to go, important thoughts and opinions etc.); updates it constantly like y’all could be dating for a year when you accidentally come across it and it’s gon have yesterday’s date as the last time it was edited

lets you braid his hair and take cute photos of him

he thinks you’re the most adorable thing on this planet like super cute so he always smothers you in kisses; like you could be the baddest chick on o block but to him you’re his princess cupcake cutie pie nd he will treat you as such; your cheeks smushed between his hands as he presses his lips against every surface of your face is just something you have to get used to; and if he’s not able to be with you physically you might as well call him soulja boy bc he gon kiss you thru the phone

whenever you playfully hit him he grabs your hand before it gets too far away and interlaces your fingers

y’all have several different conversation threads going across various platforms; like you’ll be in messages talking about what y’all should have for dinner, on instagram sending each other cat videos, and on kakaotalk flirting; it’s not uncommon for y’all to be going back and forth between these simultaneously in the same room looking up at each other and giggling sometimes responding out loud instead of through the phone; if anyone else is in the room when this happens they’re probably an equal mix of confused amused and grossed out at how cute y’all are

takes anniversaries very seriously like he plugs it into his phone as soon as you agree to date him bc he just has this really strong gut feeling about you; bc j hope always has a plan he does something special for you for each one; they get increasingly more elaborate the longer you’re together; first month it’s a singular flower a box of chocolates and a walk in the park; three months he strings up some fairly lights in his living room spreads some rose petals on the floor and cooks you a really nice meal; six months you get a whole bouquet of your favorite flowers he buys you a couple of designer outfits and rents out an entire restaurant for you; one year he takes you out of the city for a few days to some luxury spa resort where you both can be pampered and relax in privacy he showers you in gifts the whole time, one of which is a fine silver necklace with a diamond encrusted pandora’s box charm sitting in the middle with diamond earrings to match; on your second anniversary he surprises you with a ten day trip to the maldives; he proposes there

jimin:

is fascinated by the sight of you taking down your hair from a bun or ponytail; watches with a dazed expression as the hair skirts down your neck and rests on your shoulders

wraps one arm around you and walks his fingers up your spine when you’re laying in bed facing each other; likes to see you shiver and feel the goosebumps raise on your skin in real time bc he loves knowing how much he affects you

absolutely canNOT handle fighting with you; will give you approximately 20 minutes of space if he gets on your bad side; lingers around you with a pitiful look on his face figuratively poking and prodding you for signs that you two will be okay; most situations are resolved by the end of the day bc the thought of not having you by his side as he sleeps is unbearable

likes to lay between your legs, his back to your front, head resting on your chest with your arms wrapped around him while he watches tv

you’ll spend months trying to convince mr puppy kitty himself to get a kitten with you and when he finally agrees and y’all find the perfect one to take in, the cat end up liking him more than you even tho you take care of it most of the time 😭; like he’ll come home and the cat will fly to him and they’ll spend hours cuddled up watching tv; you might as well not even be there

loves to tease; will see you laying down on the couch wearing only an oversized t shirt just being regular messing around on your phone and innocently sit down at the opposite end of the couch as to not arise suspicion even tho you’re already suspicious bc he always doing something but you let it go; not five minutes later he’s rubbing at your ankles which again you don’t comment on you don’t want to provoke him; but next thing you know he’s kissing a path up your legs to your inner thighs, your tummy, a brief stop around your collar bones and neck where he leaves a series of marks, all over your face; basically his lips are everywhere but where you need them to be; doesn’t give in until you’re panting and whining underneath him, locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck forcing him to you while he’s giggling at how desperate he’s got you

will call you just bc he misses your voice 🥺

learns how to do things exactly the way you like it; like if you like your coffee a specific way or your eggs cooked a certain way he’s gonna make it his own personal mission to figure out how to do it perfectly for you; then every time you want it even if you were planning to do it yourself he’s gonna shoo you away bc he claims he’s the only person who knows how to do it right even tho you were the one who showed him

has a sixth sense for when you’re in emotional distress and will hug you for as long as you need to

4am ramen dates when you can’t sleep and he’s just casually awake anyway bc he has the worst sleep schedule in the world; will spend the next few hours eating junk you know y’all will both regret later, talking about nothing and everything, doing lip sync battle worthy karaoke performances, and running around playing tag or something; y’all finally pass out around 7am and don’t wake up until like 7pm; hobi judges y’all when he finds out about it

taehyung:

likes to join you for your nightly routine bc it’s a clear indicator of your togetherness; he likes looking in the mirror and seeing the two of you doing separate tasks but together; likes to see the two toothbrushes in the cup on the counter, 2 towels, 2 sponges; all your skin care products in one drawer; and his cleanser and toner on the other; just loves the evidence that it’s not just him anymore he has you

if you’re ever showing any cleavage he knows bc that’s where all his attention has been focused; eyes glued to your chest with a spaced out expression on his face and the corner of his lip tucked under his teeth; pls do not try to give him any information of value at that moment bc he will not retain it; his mind is elsewhere

says he’s going on a diet and pesters you to do it with him for moral support but two days later you walk into him with his face in a bowl of jjajangmyeon

he requires a lot of verbal reassurance so there’s a whole lot of checking in; like you’re always on the same page about your relationship bc there’s a “you like me, right?” type conversation every other week

if you’re sitting side by side in chairs that are like a normal distance apart he pulls your chair until it’s right next to him and rests his arm around you on the back of the chair

he be picking fights 😭; sometimes bc he lets little things that really shouldn’t bother him that much get to him other times he just wants attention and will take it any way he can get it even if it’s negative; it never gets too far past moderate irritation tho; he gets on your nerves just enough to have to make up with you which is like his favorite part of fighting

when he’s bored he will try to have a conversation with you using only selfies and emojis; like you’ll be busy and then come back to check yo phone nd it’s like: “attachment: 1 image 🙋🏻‍♂️🙋🏻‍♂️” “🥸🫵” “🥺👾🙋🏻‍♂️🙋‍♀️⁉️” “attachment: 3 images 😩😭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🙏”

enjoys feeling needed by you so sometimes he will go through the trouble of intentionally moving things out of your reach just so you’ll have to ask him for help

not the type to flaunt his wealth at all but he has this quiet insistence to always pay for you; he has more than enough means to provide for you and it’s important to him that he does; like if y’all went to an ice cream shop and he went to the bathroom after he ordered and it was time to pay before he got back and you just went and paid for it bc it’s only like $5 he would be annoyed with you; buys you something that’s like 20 times more expensive to make up for it like a week’s worth of groceries

tries very hard to get you into jazz as much as he is which admittedly isn’t as hard as he thinks it is especially on nights when he spends time sorting through his vinyls until he finds the perfect one to introduce to you; as he carefully places the record onto the player and gently lays the needle down, soft sounds of saxophones and trumpets fill the air; then he reaches his hand out to you beckoning you to slow dance with him around the living room; you fall in love with a lot more than the song

jungkook:

would play “this little piggy” with your toes if you were barefoot and put your feet in his lap

randomly manhandles you like if you’re sitting farther away from him than he would like he just pulls you closer; or when you’re both in bed and he gets the urge to cuddle he just grabs your hand and rolls you until your face is pressed against his chest

he likes to keep you to himself; y’all can be separate like you can go do your thing with your friends and he can do his thing with his friends but if y’all are together he’d rather be together alone bc he knows he’s a little crazy; he can get possessive and if he sees you tasting little bits of his friends food or leaning toward them when you laugh and playfully hitting their arms he’s liable to get very irritated nd he’d rather not fight with you

feels a lot for you but isn’t the best with words so he gets a little frustrated sometimes; starts to clam up a bit bc he wants to tell you but he can’t bc he doesn’t know how; may get a little distant and spaced out bc he’s overwhelmed and needs time to sort out his head; takes a bit of gentle prodding after he’s had that time to help him open up; you in his lap, his hands around your lower back, yours perched on his shoulders, periodically traveling down his chest then up his back, cradling his neck fingers toying with the hairs that rest on its nape, as you kiss on him, across his shoulders, up his neck, all over his face, gentle lingering ones on his lips, creating an environment where he feels comfortable and reassured of your feelings for him; after he’s said all he needed to say you gently push him back so he’s laying down and physically show him how much you reciprocate his feelings; clings to you heavy for the week after that conversation; like you have to stay the night every day or he might cry

is a fan of sitting across from you when you go out to eat; is particularly fond of interlocking both your hands with his as you talk

coerces you into taking boxing lessons with him; refuses to settle for you being his cheerleader like you tried to convince him; drags you to enough that you actually make a decent sparring partner; terrified of hurting you so he always pulls his punches if he even hits you at all

is chill like 90% of the time but he’s also a very particular person so sometimes he gets irritated with you when you mess up his flow; like if you changed and left your clothes on the floor he’s gonna make sure you see him and give you a very pointed look as he picks them up and put them on the hamper; and he has the groceries in his fridge stocked in a very specific manner so if you didn’t put it back exactly where you got it from he’s gonna pout and whine at you about it

he be dragging yooouuuuu; like god forbid you ever make a typo and he finds it amusing; he’s gonna talk about it continuously for the next hour; he’s gonna use the typo in lieu of whatever word it was supposed to be every time you text; it’s gonna play on his brain on loop nd he’s gonna giggle to himself about it every few hours for a week; the members gon catch him giggling about it nd ask what’s so funny nd when tells them they gon get a kick out of it; it’s now the new bangtan inside joke nd they’re all gonna change your contact name in they phone to the typo

gives you piggyback rides at the end of your nights out when your shoes are unbearably comfortable and your feet are aching; will actually just give you a piggyback ride whenever you want bc he’s easily persuaded

he be sniffing you 🥴 like he be using that big old nose of his to the full with you; his favorite times to invade your space and breathe you in are when you’ve just gotten out of the shower and are fresh with the scent of your shower gel and lotion and on wash days after your hair is nice and clean and you’ve revitalized it with your leave in conditioner, detangling lotion, and moisturizers and oils like the mix of all your hair products is heavenly to him; he also just enjoys your natural aroma a little earthy, a little sweet, all you and he loves you; 100% the type to have you sleep in one of his shirts for a couple days before he has to go abroad so he can have a piece of you with him even when you’re not there

tag list: @callmejimmeo @jvmisvu @millenniumspec @bucketofhiros

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hisunshiine · 10 months

Text

—grey area: avoiding the red | ksj

📈pairing: CFO!seokjin x senior accounting manager!reader 📈au/genre: CEO au, fake dating au, c2l, fluff, smut, angst 📈rating: M 📈wc: 27,659 📈warnings: swearing, vulgar statements, misogyny, eventual mutual pining, fake dating bet, leg injury/sprain, minor boat crash, explicit sexual content: strawberry juice dripping, straddling, making out, clothed grinding, marking, fingering, consent seeking, foreplay, unprotected sex, cock riding, wall sex, stairs sex, mutual orgasm, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), cum swallowing, hair pulling 📈an: beta readers: @peachiilovesot7, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, @colormepurplex2, @moonleeai, @pennpad-bts thank you so much for all of your beta reading and brainstorming and help! to all my readers who have stuck by me, you mean the world. I am so sorry it took me so long to post this, but it's finally here! 📈summary: Recently inducted CFO Kim Seokjin is the head of finances at JinHit Conglomerate after his father retires. You, the senior accounting manager for the company, begin to stomp around in your heels complaining about areas that need mitigating for the business to continue to run smoothly after a meeting gone wrong. When Seokjin makes a bet with you to see if the two of you can hide a romantic relationship from work peers, several things are revealed OR The one where Seokjin wants to get you only in your heels.

taglist: @flxrcnt @ggukkieland @yoongisdragon

in the red (idiom): spending and owing more money than is being earned

Jaw clenched tightly as you ignore the tension running through your body, your finger slowly scrolls the webpage you’re viewing on your laptop. Price tags be damned, you couldn’t care less about the cost of the bejeweled heels—you had to have them. It will just have to wait a few paychecks before you can purchase them. If you could even afford them after today. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment; a gorgeous colored pump that would be the pièce de résistance to an all black or white outfit.

Online shopping is one of your favorite coping skills, a great calming technique to get your mind off the email you received almost a half hour ago, for a meeting you were summoned to attend in five minutes. A meeting JinHit’s Board of Directors summoned you to attend, to be exact. You checked the email several times, opening the list of recipients to full view to see everyone who was invited, and the vein throbbing in your forehead pulses at the reminder.

Only the C-Suite and the heads of each department will be in attendance, and the knowledge of what this could mean sends a shiver down your rigid spine. Seokjin had asked you to prepare the financial report last week for the board to review; it doesn’t seem coincidental that the meeting is being called a day after you sent it.

Adjusting your position where you sit in the meeting room currently, having arrived earlier than normal to choose your favorite seat, you cross a leg over your thigh, bouncing your matte black Balenciaga Knife 110MM pumps in time with your anxiety.

“Can you please just relax?” Seokjin mutters. “The constant bouncing is giving me a headache.”

You grit your teeth, molars grinding against each other as you hold back your remarks. Easy for you to say, you think, not all of us have the luxury to relax. Stilling the ankle that was flexing up and down in a jittery dance, you lower your leg and straighten your slacks.

“I’m sorry, sir.” My leg wouldn’t bother you if you hadn’t followed me from the accounting wing. “The board meeting has me worried. If office gossip on WeVerse is anything to go by, I’m afraid we might not be employed for much longer.”

Jin twirls a Montblanc fountain pen worth more than your monthly rent as he stares at you, nonplussed.

“I highly doubt that, Kicks. There’s no need to exaggerate. You’re busy looking at expensive heels again, anyway, so it’ll be fine.”

You huff at the nickname he’s bestowed upon you for your shoe obsession, rolling your eyes as you close them before taking a deep, deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Maybe you’ll still be CFO of JinHit, sir, but not all of us are nepo-babies. If anyone is going to be fired, it’ll be me. So I’m looking at heels to see the last thing I can purchase with my severance pay before I’m destitute. Sir.”

“I don’t know why you bother keeping up pretenses by calling me ‘sir’ when you talk to me like that,” he mutters. “Calling me a damn nepo-baby.”

You run down the list of all of the attendees in your head once more. Kim Namjoon, CEO, Kim Seokjin, CFO, Min Yoongi, General Counsel (the company's main attorney and primary source of legal advice), Jung Hoseok, JinHit Entertainment Division manager, Kim Taehyung, recently promoted Property Acquisition Division Manager, Jeon Jungkook, CIO, yourself, and a few other heads of departments you aren’t as familiar with. Lastly, all of the board members, minus Park Jimin’s father, though he’s in the room instead, stepping in for his father who is away on vacation.

“You make me laugh, Kicks. I’m so glad to have you by my side.” Seokjin can’t help but chuckle.

“If only I could say the same,” you grumble under your breath.

“One day, you’ll say you love me.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the men walking in through the door. Discreetly you close the tab to the Jimmy Choo website and pull up your email instead, awaiting the soft ding! that alerts you to the agenda and any additional documents you will need.

The room is full of the sounds of creaking leather and quiet chatter as the gentlemen settle into their seats for the meeting to commence.

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“This is an outrage!”

“What have the heads of finance been doing? Getting their fucking dicks wet by fucking secretaries in the janitor’s closet?”

You narrow your eyes at the older man who had the audacity to speak in such a way during a meeting, seemingly forgetting that the Senior Accounting Manager is you, and that you do not have a dick to fuck said secretary with.

“Please, Mr. Choi, the finance department has been working just as much as everyone else, and the Senior Accounting Manager,” the CEO gestures to you as he reminds the man of your name, “she has been more than transparent with me about the state of our finances for this quarter.”

The other men in the room appear to have the wherewithal to look flummoxed at Mr. Choi’s outburst in the presence of a woman, but their reactions don't keep his thin lips quiet.

“So, she’s the one getting fucked in the janitor’s closet. Either way, the finances are abysmal and something must be done!” Mr. Choi throws a printed copy of your financial report in your direction, and you can see the top sheet flutter onto the floor with your name splashed across it. He was being obtuse on purpose—he knew damn well who prepared the financial report.

Seokjin’s hand clamps down on your thigh, holding you back from lunging across the table at the grey-haired misogynist as he speaks.

“Please, Mr. Choi, I know you’re a little jealous that no one is fucking you,” everyone in the room laughs at Seokjin’s light banter, “but I promise you, the finance department is working on options to help make up for the expenses.”

Incensed, Mr. Choi stands up, face red with fury at being made a fool. You almost expect him to turn his ire on Seokjin for his words, but the reality of the situation is that Mr. Choi would never dare to curse out the son of the previous CFO and namesake of the company.

“As the Senior Accounting Manager,” he starts with a sneer, “you should’ve had a better handle on what was happening right under your nose.” He thrusts his fat finger at you, spittle flying as his anger gains traction. “This is why women shouldn’t be in positions like this. You’re useless to this company, and if it were up to me, I would fire you for letting the company get so close to the red line. Seokjin, she reflects poorly on you.”

“Mr. Choi.” Namjoon’s tone is final as he rises to his feet, dragon eyes cutting daggers. “Please respect my employees.” The ‘or else’ is not said, but implied.

You shake with rage, holding back tears of frustration at how no one is coming to your defense. Sure, the CEO asked the board member to respect you, but only after said board member had already besmirched your name. After he had so rudely made insinuations about how poorly he thinks of you and ignored that Kim Seokjin is the Chief Financial Officer and the true overseer of the finances. No one says anything to defend your honor or put the man in his place for talking to an employee this way.

“I’ll respect her when she does her fucking job right! You have until the first quarter of the new year to fix this shit.” Mr. Choi turns and leaves the room dramatically, and for once, you’re glad that you didn’t say anything, because you aren’t fired—yet. Had you opened your mouth, you might have been.

The rest of the room quietly turns to light talk as you direct your heated face to the open report on your laptop. The finances for the year highlight some of the major spending across the departments totalling several million once all added together; several million that were not accounted for at the start of the year when budgets were drawn up and outlined.

First, there was the $2 million dollar loss from the Property Acquisition department thanks to one Kim Taehyung and late paperwork, then stocks dropped from the Facebook video released of C-Suite members and the impromptu start of the non-profit side company NAMU. The cost of going green to implement practices to support NAMU and raise the value of the stocks once again, and the cost of acquiring a new partnership with LeeCo Cosmetics due to Hoseok’s arranged marriage.

“Ahem,” Namjoon clears his throat, calling everyone’s attention. “Now that everyone has had ample time to review the finance report, I think the best way forward is to come up with a plan to implement for the start of the next quarter to change the projection of the report away from the red line.”

“How long do we have to develop a plan?” Seokjin asks, eyes darting over to your silently seething frame.

“You have the month, Jin. December will be spent researching in order to make a decision and create a plan to implement in January. We will re-evaluate the financial report at the end of the first quarter to ensure that there are no negative consequences for the decisions we’ve made, and go from there. Remember, the fiscal year ends March 31st, so we only have the quarter to fix this. Dismissed.”

The room empties out, with Namjoon cutting his eyes at Seokjin to keep him seated. You still needed to gather the documents and calm down before you did something rash, so it’s just the three of you left once the door swings shut.

“Seokjin, I understand why, but do you have to always be so unserious?” Namjoon sighs out.

“What do you mean? I was just giving back what he was dishing out,” Seokjin defends, not seeing the issue with what transpired.

“You know he went and called your dad as soon as he walked out of the room, right?”

“And? The man retired—I’m the CFO now, not my father. It’ll be fine!”

Namjoon just stares at him, before giving you a pitying look that you despise. You know he means it more as sympathy for how you were treated, but it makes you feel different from the others somehow, like you can’t handle the atmosphere of the “wealthy businessmen club”. He nods at you both before he stands and leaves, and Seokjin is not far behind him.

You bend down to gather the documents once your breathing has regulated.

You were right to have been worried about this meeting.

The first week after that dreaded meeting, you spend your time researching the various financial avenues the company has and begin to dissect them for potential areas of mitigation. Seokjin pulls you aside into one of his many offices, this one located on the financing floor, and tries to talk to you about what happened with Mr. Choi, but you don’t let him get but a few words out before cutting in to tell him off for letting you take the blame as soon as the door closes behind you.

“You actually sat there and didn’t say anything to that sexist pig!” You jab Seokjin in the chest to emphasize the last three syllables. “I should report him to HR for sexual harassment! That’ll teach the geriatric asshole.”

Grabbing your shoulders gently, Seokjin leans his face down to your height. Maintaining a calm, soothing tone, he attempts to placate you. “Kicks, I did speak up, but he’s my godfather and I can’t go around cursing my daebu (대부) at work—”

“You didn’t speak up to support me, Seokjin, you made a joke and defended the department, but he was attacking me, and you didn’t say shit. None of you did.”

Pulling away from him, you wrap your arms around yourself as if to self-soothe with a hug, taking several deep breaths to compose yourself. His touches have been growing more frequent lately, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re acting like a deranged woman since the dreaded meeting, or if you’re noticing it because of other reasons. Not that you would ever date a coworker or anything…

Stepping away from him allows you a chance to breathe, despite how nice it feels when he uses physical contact to comfort you. Arranging your features, you steady yourself as you turn on your heel to face him again.

“I’m sorry for my language, sir. If you will excuse me, I’ll take my lunch now and then we can meet to discuss my findings.”

Without waiting for Seokjin to respond, you step around him and exit his office. You walk towards your desk and grab your convertible laptop and a thin manila folder before you head out of the finance wing. Trekking through the hallways to the elevator, you shake off the outburst as you pass through the waist-high metal safety gate and into the lobby. You hear a high-pitched voice yell out your name.

“Hey, I know you’re plenty busy, but I’ve been tasked with spearheading the holiday party committee, and we need your approval for the budget. Can you sign off on these documents for me?” Ji-Soo asks. “If I had the time, I would run this up to finance,” she adds, “Seokjin is so hot…Damn. How do you handle working so closely with him?”

The front desk representative bats her kohl-lined eyes at you, swinging her long black hair over her shoulder. Her flowy off-the-shoulder blouse reveals a cute, tiny heart-shaped tattoo inked onto her skin. You hate her insinuation that you’re attracted to your boss and the way her eyebrows move as if to suggest that you and Seokjin are anything like her and Jimin. You may find him good-looking, but you have more sense than to be seen C-Suite hopping.

Ignoring her second question, you respond, “I’m on my way to grab lunch, but I can review the documents and let you know if the budget is approved.”

Ji-Soo’s face morphs into one of distaste.

“Why do you need to review it? Can’t you just sign it now? Seokjin always approved the holiday party budgets in the past.”

You groan, knowing that you would be competing with the legacy Seokjin left behind after his promotion to CFO after his father stepped down for retirement. When it was okay to be fiscally irresponsible, because other employees hadn’t racked up millions in expenses out of the blue.

“Sorry, Ji-Soo. Orders from the stakeholders—all budgets have to be reviewed before approval.” You grasp the papers she unceremoniously brandished at you and tuck them into the manila folder. “I’ll get this back to you once it’s been properly assessed.”

“Hey!” Ji-Soo calls after you as you walk away from her, “I need that by the end of the week! Party planning is not cheap!”

Feet still moving, you wave your hand over your shoulder at her, not bothering to spare her a glance. “End of the week, got it!”

Lunch is boring; you hadn’t actually meant to leave for your thirty-minute break today, but after your outburst you felt some exercise would do you good. The small cafe near the office building is the perfect spot to set up your laptop and browse through documents, the Jimmy Choo website, and perk up with a late afternoon latte.

Opening up the fillable PDF file for budget assessment proposals, you begin reviewing the holiday party plans. It pains you to see some of the outlandish expenses they want: an ice sculpture of the company logo, open bar with top-shelf liquor, performance by an upcoming American artist breaking into the scene, and several gift packages for raffles, just to name a few.

Downing the rest of your coffee, you type up your review and draft an email to Ji-Soo, attaching a PDF scan of her proposal and your budget assessment, denying her requests. You ask her to reduce the cost of the party by several hundred thousand, providing a list of things she can mitigate to reach the approved goal, and then you turn on your auto reply so as to avoid her wrath. Walking back into the office building, you blend in with the after lunch crowd and make it back to the small finance department conference room to meet with Seokjin.

Seokjin’s POV

Kim Seokjin sits in the conference room in finance, several levels away from his office where the other C-Suite executives reside, waiting for you. Seokjin has worked with you for several years in finance before his promotion, and you were by far the most qualified Senior Accounting Manager he’s ever met.

He knows he’s lucky to have you, and not just for your skills and personality—you’re also easy on the eyes. Seokjin’s always been tempted to ask you out, cross that boundary of coworkers, but the timing’s never been right. With his promotion at the start of the year, the chasm has gotten wider, his resolve fading with it.

After you leave for your lunch break, he settles into the conference room replaying the way your hips swayed as you walked away from him. Chuckling at the way your perfect image cracked and he got to hear his name roll off of your tongue—that is until the smile is wiped away as he remembers what led to it. You were right. He didn’t defend you in that meeting earlier in the week, simply too gobsmacked by Mr. Choi’s choice of words to even think clearly. The image it put into his head, you in the hallway closet with those legs wrapped around his waist, letting him fuck you into oblivion—in just those heels you stomp around in, so authoritative-like…Seokjin licks his lips as his fingers clench the edge of his desk, before he shakes the image away.

He hates that you feel like you do; growing up he spent so much time at the office, running around with Namjoon as their dads built the company from the ground up, and the women in the office always took care of them.

Mrs. Im was the payroll bookkeeper when he was just a child; his love for numbers and accounting started with her. She tutored him in math through primary school, even helping him pass the Suneung, or the CSAT national test, to get into college. He saw how hard it was for her to move up in the department, often being looked over for her male counterparts, despite being better than them. As far as the finance department goes, payroll is the lowest on the totem pole. Mrs. Im only made it one level up to Staff Accountant, despite being able to count circles around the men and it never seemed fair.

Now, the company is much more with the times, with many women in not only the finance department, but in information technology, and men in nontraditional roles as well, like the secretary who is in the entertainment department, Kai. As for your position, the only person above you in the hierarchy is himself, and some days Seokjin wishes he could promote you into his role for all your hard work. He curses his daebu in his head for the way his backwards thinking has negatively affected you, and then curses himself for not being able to support you the way you deserved in that meeting.

Seokjin fields text messages from his father about the company’s finances, Namjoon’s assumption that Mr. Choi called his father, having been correct. It’s been an ongoing conversation since the moment he left the meeting—his father bothering him day and night about his behavior.

아버지 (Father) - 12:48 pm : You should not have spoken like that in a meeting. Choi told me that you were talking back, not taking any accountability for the financial crisis the company could be facing, and that girl was impertinent. For once, can you just take this job seriously? Can you take your life seriously? Jin - 12:49 pm: Aren’t you retired?

Once your lunch break ends, Seokjin can’t hide the smile on his face as you enter the room, setting your belongings on the table with a sigh.

“Ji-Soo stopped me as I was leaving to talk about the holiday party. Can we discuss it at the end of the meeting?”

“Of course. Let’s get the business out of the way, then.”

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“Absolutely not.”

“But sir, the amount of money that we spend every month on the Friday event, especially with it being a half day of work getting done…even to reduce it for the first quarter could make significant gains to remain in the black.”

Seokjin crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back in the office chair.

“You have to understand, Kicks. The Friday event is only once a month. It’s important for employee morale, not to mention the amount of impact we have on the community right here. There’s the Cho family who runs the Korean street food truck. Half of their monthly revenue comes from this one day. The parents have a daughter in college and she has a small son they look after while she’s in class. They wouldn’t be able to support them both without us.”

You level Seokjin with a gaze that he wishes he could act upon, taking you up on the challenge it serves.

“You want to continue Fun Fridays to save this ONE restaurant?” you ask, leaning your elbows onto the table as you peer closely at Seokjin, analyzing him. Your hands are clasped tightly in front of you as you hold back the urge to fix the wayward strand of hair that falls across his forehead.

“Well, no—not just this one. It helps all of the local companies who come out to provide for us—this was just an example that should pull at your heartstrings.” Seokjin leans towards you, placing his hand atop yours to sell the sentimental connection he’s using to keep Fridays as is. “These are real people who rely on us. And our employees rely on them. People want to work here and our stocks do well because the employees brag about once-a-month Fridays on WeVerse. It would be foolhardy to our reputation to remove it.” He gestures dramatically with his hands to emphasize just how foolhardy he finds it, and you suddenly miss the warmth of his hand on yours.

“Fine.” You look down at the next item on the list, gathering your thoughts away from the dangerous path of Seokjin’s hands on yours. “My next proposal is to make a change to the employee health benefits. I looked into it and we can lower company costs if we choose the specific provider for employees. I’ve found a clinic with three primary care doctors that provided us with an estimate. They project to have a great low cost for the company and there would be less contribution from the employees as well. A win-win.”

You smugly slide over the information you gathered for Seokjin’s review. He can’t help but admit to himself that this is a possible option. He doesn’t like that it would throw off the plans already in place, but as long as the doctors are reputable, he feels confident in this choice.

“Can you tell me a little bit about the clinic or the doctors we would be assigned?”

“Sure, uh, their names are…Hyun Yong-in, Jung Hyun-tae and Lee Wan-soo. They work for—”

“—Incheon 21st Century Hospital,” Seokjin interrupts. You glower at him.

“Next idea.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because, Kicks, if you had done a little more digging, you would know why the fee is so low. They had a massive lawsuit, malpractice and fraud, allowing interns and assistants to perform surgery on patients without consent or supervision. They should’ve lost their licenses. I didn’t realize they were done with their jail time. Two years goes by fast.”

He watches you pale visibly at the news, just a few shades lighter than normal as you swallow the information. Folding his convertible laptop so that it becomes a touchscreen tablet, he taps for a few moments before proffering the screen to you.

“Oh,” you gulp. “Well, I have one more idea to help the company.”

Pulling out the printed paper from the manila folder, you pass the list of departments to Seokjin for him to review.

“These are all of the departments of JinHit Conglomerate with a brief description of what they handle.” Leaning over, you point to a small subsection under the Information Technology sector. “This right here is a small department that is listed under IT, but could also be considered Marketing. It houses the Social Media Managers—three employees who oversee engagement, content, and analytics for the company’s online platforms and presence.”

Seokjin nods.

“Yes, they are the ones who caught wind of the video Khaity posted…We had to make sure that moving forward they didn’t contact the board first, but me and Joon.” Seokjin shakes his head at the memory. “That was a shitshow,” he mutters.

“Well, take a look at the expenses this department has incurred. The cost of new equipment for all three members, including desktops here in the office and work devices, to take on the go and to have at home; high-speed gigabit internet speeds, several purchases for access to databases and systems to track the company name and various projects we are working on, a stipend for food—I don’t even know why they need that—plus these charges to the company card for a massage therapist to come in-house three times a week!” You huff in indignation at the ridiculousness of the expenses as Seokjin’s phone chimes from an incoming message.

“So what are you proposing we do? Cut out massages? Or are you offering to be my personal masseuse? I have a few areas you could—”

“I will call HR so quick—”

“I’m kidding, sheesh! You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered! Anyway,” you redirect the conversation away from another spiraling train of thought as your tablet dings, “this department incurs more expenses per member than some of the entertainment sector, so I think we need to merge these workers into other departments with a significant decrease to the special treatment they have been receiving and do a sweep through ALL department expenses, mitigating all of the superfluous things, like fucking massage therapists being on-call in-house three times a week.”

“The employees are not going to like this—we've always allowed them the ability to not be micromanaged when it comes to workplace spending,” Seokjin answers, but he knows this is the best bet to meet the board’s requirements and stay on your good side. “But okay.”

“Great. I’ll draft the memo to be sent out as soon as possible so that from now on, all expenses will be reviewed by me before charges can be processed by the company.” A quiet pinging chimes as you talk. “All spending must go through a request and approval process. I’ve already drafted the forms for requesting funds, and this is a great segue into Ji-Soo and the holiday party. She can be the first to complete the new process for approval, since I’ve already completed the form and sent it to her.”

Jin huffs out a disbelieving chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment of relief.

“Well, that explains the back-to-back emails she’s sent while we’ve been talking. She must not understand that emails are not like text messages.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that Ji-Soo is surpassing the CEO with her IQ score.” You click the keys on the tablet keyboard, avoiding looking at Seokjin, lest you start to laugh as another ding fills the silence from his constantly chirping phone.

“Kicks! It’s so rare to see you snip back—she must’ve done something to get under your skin.” Seokjin smirks, thinking about how he wants to be next.

“Just thinking about how if we could fire some people, that would also help with costs.”

“For now, we’ll stick to option three and your plan to assess all company fund requests. I’ll report this to Namjoon and you can work on your memo. And please, if you love me at all,” Seokjin pauses so that he can stand up and gather his device and pen, “reply to Ji-Soo before she files a complaint.”

“Yes, sir.” And you will, but not because you have any kind of feelings for your boss.

Reader POV

Ji-Soo is not happy with the reply email you sent to her, but you don’t care. Unfortunately, it’s your job that’s on the line, though you wish it would be hers. Her many office dalliances are of no secret to you thanks to being so close to one of the C-Suite employees, but there isn’t much you can do about it.

The rest of the weekend and following week is spent writing up the memo for the CEO to approve and send out to all departments, prepping all of the review documents you will be using for requests, and meeting with the CIO, Jeon Jungkook, to discuss the rearranging of the IT Departments so that the staff members can be placed accordingly.

Friday afternoon, a reminder email comes through about the Company Holiday party happening tomorrow. You didn’t forget about it—not with the way Ji-Soo bothers you almost daily about how hard it is to plan the event with the limited funds you provided her. You roll your eyes at her email—the slight dig at the change of venue due to the financial department’s mitigations did not go unmissed by you.

In actuality, she has the same amount of money for decorations and food as previous years—making her use the JinHit building as the location instead of renting out an expensive ballroom or hotel conference room allowed you to approve her decorations, food, and drink budget.

Moving the email into the relevant folder, you close down your computer for the weekend, excited to finally be done with the long week. You plan to attend the event, and as you pack up your belongings to head home, you think through the various outfits in your closet to piece together what you might want to wear.

“Hey, Kicks!” Seokjin’s loud voice calls out to you as you wait for the elevator car to arrive on your floor. The finance department is located on the 48th floor, below the C-Suite offices, and it isn’t every day that people frequently travel this high. Most of the Property Acquisition department left earlier, also located on this floor; so the quiet atmosphere allows his voice to travel farther than usual.

“Hey, Seokjin. Have a good weekend,” you say in greeting and farewell so as to not prolong a conversation. He doesn’t take the hint and steps next to you, his heady cologne filling the elevator waiting area. His black hair is pushed back off of his forehead, showing his annoyingly handsome face, and you turn away from his brown eyes smiling at you.

“Oh, I’m sure this weekend will be more than good. Are you coming tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Need to witness with my own eyes how it turns out so Ji-Soo can’t lie.”

Seokjin laughs as the elevator sounds to alert that the carriage has arrived. The two of you board, the enclosed space unsurprisingly empty. Being alone with him is nothing you aren’t used to—but lately you’re noticing he’s frustratingly handsome, which makes it harder for you to still blame him for the finance meeting debacle.

“Sounds like something she would do,” he finishes after laughing, pressing the button to the 50th floor, causing the trajectory of the elevator to lurch upward.

“Seokjin!”

“What? You know I have two offices and I left my briefcase upstairs. Wait for me, please?” he begs as the door opens and he takes off at a slow jog down the hallway. You sigh, pressing the door open button a few times as you wait for him to return. You’re annoyed and ready to go home, and this just highlights how much he enjoys getting under your skin and earning a reaction from you. He’s back quickly, only slightly out of breath as you press the button for the ground floor.

“Thanks, Kicks. It’s creepy leaving here by myself.”

You look at him incredulously.

“It’s not creepy. Most of the lights are still on!”

“Barely! Plus now that it’s winter, the sun sets earlier. Look,” he gestures out the elevator’s tinted glass window. “It’s already setting.”

“It’s not setting, it just looks darker because the glass is tinted for shade so we don’t fry on the way up to the office.”

“If it’s hot in here, I can get off,” he offers, pointing to the button for the 37th floor that he can press to stop the motion of the elevator’s descent.

“You really think you’re hot, huh?”

“You don’t agree?” Seokjin challenges, stepping into your space. His arms cage your body in, and he tilts his head to look down at you. You fight the urge to stare at his lips, instead biting your own as you maintain eye contact.

“Oh Seokjin, there are so many things I don’t agree with you on.” You decide to take this opportunity and fluster him for a change. You close the gap dividing you from Seokjin and begin to run your hand along the top of his head, as if in a loving manner. You hold back a laugh at the way his eyes close in contentment at the feel of your fingers sliding along his scalp, unaware of your actual goal. Your fingers curl around his locks, giving you a good grip to pull his head back and away from you.

“Ow, ow!” He hollers as he steps away from you, releasing you from the tension built within his arms.

“Sorry, sir.” Smugly, you cross your arms as he rubs at his scalp while shooting daggers at you, knowing it’s all in jest.

The two of you continue to playfully banter on the way down to the main lobby, parting ways as he heads to his reserved parking spot and you walk to the bus stop near the building that most employees utilize to get home.

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Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you fix your dress, eyes leaving the thigh slit in your dress to gaze at the black Louis Vuitton FAME pumps adorning your feet. The cocktail dress is black, showing off ample shoulder and legs, while accentuating all of your best body parts. Grabbing your winter coat and clutch, you head downstairs to the waiting KakaoTaxi that will take you to the office.

The lobby of JinHit is full of people arriving, greeting each other and taking photos in front of the ice sculpture of the company logo. On the other side of the main desk from the elevators, a makeshift coat check has been erected, with a small line of your coworkers turning in their heavy coats so they can enjoy the party. After dropping off your own jacket, you make your way to the elevator, waving salutations to coworkers you see. The CEO’s secretary, NaBi, poses with the CIO, Jungkook, in front of a beautiful backdrop of a snowy forest, fake snow falling from a machine positioned above. Yoongi and Jimin stand to one side, clearly arguing back and forth about something, though both have a smile on their face. Reaching the elevator, the doors open as soon as you press the button, and you’re quickly rising to the 5th floor.

The 5th floor is often referred to as the Study Area, because it houses several quiet areas for the employees to access. The entertainment section uses it the most, with the various celebrities signed to JinHit doing work, studying their craft, and holding meetings in the rooms. The first door, and the main location of the party is called The Library, because one side of the wall is filled with bookshelves and books, while the opposite side holds floor-to-ceiling glass windows. There is a balcony within The Library that looks down upon the main floor, and tonight, it’s filled with white covered tables with a good sized area for people to dance and mingle.

As you take in the decorations, you can’t help but admire Ji-Soo’s efforts, and when she appears from a side door directing a working staffer on the placement of silverware, you tell her so.

“Thank you, YN…not that your goal to cut down on spending was of any help.”

“Yes, I am sure that this is not the venue you had in mind, but you’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Wow, babes, this looks great!” Jimin walks into the room, followed by Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Yes, I worked very hard for almost two weeks on planning this.” Ji-Soo curls herself into Jimin’s arms as he wraps an arm around her waist. They walk further into the room to allow the crowd to enter, and soon The Library is full of people grabbing plates for the buffet line and getting drinks from the bar set up beneath the balcony. You decide to get a drink first, avoiding the crowd lining up to get first dibs on the food emitting a delicious aroma into the room.

The bartender is skilled, shaking bottles and pouring liquor for your waiting coworkers. The Malibu Bay Breeze you ordered is paired with a couple of cherries that sway in the glass as it slides down the bar to you. Taking a sip, you enjoy the refreshing taste of the cran-pineapple and coconut rum as it takes over your tastebuds.

“What did you order? Is it good?”

You nod your head at NaBi, who recently joined you at the bar, as you take another long sip from the thin black straw.

“It’s perfect! Not overly sweet, but the rum isn’t overpowering it either.”

“I’ll have to try that one after I finish my amaretto sour.” She gestures to the bartender who is mixing her order.

“They taste so good, I bet the party will get a little wild soon.”

You both look at the crowd on the dance floor, surprised that so many people are already swaying to the beat and most of the tables are full with diners. The event planner is wrapped around Jimin, body gyrations bordering on dangerously inappropriate for a work party. NaBi laughs at the display before leaving you alone to join her work husband, Jungkook, at a table near the thrusting lovebirds.

Heading to the buffet line, you decide to eat before you order a second drink, wanting to keep some semblance of control over your gross motor functions and not end up as the gossip all over the WeVerse App.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Wow, Kicks…you look amazing.”

You try your best to turn around slowly, but the alcohol seems to come out of nowhere and you’re a little wobbly on your platform pumps. Luckily, you didn’t choose a stiletto, or you might have fallen straight into your boss.

“Hello, sir. Thank you.” You blink a few times, trying to get his handsome face to stop turning into triplets.

“Why are you hiding up here?” He looks down at your coworkers from where you’re both standing against the clear railing of the balcony. “Are you okay? Too much to drink?”

“You know? I think the juice tricked me. It was sweet so I had a few more than I usually would…now you have twin brothers.”

Seokjin guffaws loudly, but the music is now so loud it doesn’t draw anyone’s attention.

“You look a bit flushed, do you want me to get you some water?”

“Actually, yes, can we go get water? I was afraid to go downstairs in case I tripped and fell.”

Seokjin nods, offering his arm to you so that you can balance as he walks you over to the stairs to guide you down them safely. You thank him as he leads the way to the bar, loosening his bowtie as he motions for two water bottles. You fan your face as he uses one hand to pick up the bottles placed on the bar, and taking in your current state, Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back to head towards the outdoor access entrance through the glass wall.

The winter chill of the night air is soothing to your hot skin and you sink into the patio loveseat to rest your heels and your eyes.

“Here,” the crackling of the water bottle opening signals you to reach your hand out blindly and grasp the cool plastic.

A big gulp and deep breath help immensely, and you feel the loveseat dip as Seokjin drops down next to you. His body heat radiates comfortingly, and you catch yourself cuddling into his side. You miss the way Seokjin’s eyes sparkle at the initiation of touch.

“So, despite cutting costs, the annual holiday party turned out pretty well, I think,” Seokjin says, raising his water to his plush lips to drink before continuing, “did you have fun?”

“We’re still here, but yes, I am having fun. Thank you for getting me outside. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s good,” he murmurs as you curl into him more, seeking his heat. He hesitates before lowering his arm around the back of the loveseat, resting it behind you as if to welcome you into his space more. “I can’t believe it’s already December.”

You sit upright, a gasp leaving your mouth as his words ring in your eyes.

“Oh my god, it’s December.”

“I know I just said tha—”

“I missed your birthday!”

Seokjin watches your face as it cycles through all of the stages of grief before settling on a pouty acceptance.

“It’s no big deal, I didn’t get to celebrate much with everything going on right now. We’ve had to stay late and double check the daily financial reports, and I’ve been meeting with the department heads and it’s not a big birthday anyways. Next year though, you better remember.”

You nod solemnly, tipsiness clouding your ability to see through his playful manner. “Yes, sir. I will, I promise.”

Seokjin chuckles at your seriousness, hand moving to the top of your head where he smooths down the pieces that were disturbed when you had leaned into him. You preen at the touch, chest pushing into his side as you close your eyes and enjoy the feel of his fingers against your hair.

“You’re cute when you drink.”

You glare at him as best as you can, but it just makes him laugh harder.

“So, what do you want for your birthday? Or for Christmas since I missed this year?”

Seokjin’s face turns thoughtful, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes look to the night sky in thought.

“I think…I just want my father to recognize how much I actually care about the company. I’m trying to be the best CFO I can be, but man, if by Christmas he can relax from hounding me over the finances, that would be fucking great. If not, by next year we better be as far from the red as possible.”

His words strike a chord with you. The past week that you’ve been working hard at the mitigation plans and finance approvals, you didn’t even take into account how busy Seokjin was—to the point he didn’t even make a fuss about his birthday. He’d actually been really helpful, providing you with information to make your job easier.

“We will be, Jin,” you promise, “you’re doing a great job helping me with mitigating things. Speaking of—I wish we could mitigate her.” You stare pointedly through the window back into the building, where a very drunk Park Jimin has his white shirt unbuttoned seductively low as an equally drunk Ji-Soo is taking pictures of him with her phone.

“Ji-Soo? She’s harmless.”

“No one who has slept with a C-Suite executive is ever harmless to a company. Workplace romances rarely work out. She isn’t harmless; she’s a risk, and untouchable right now.”

A strong gust causes Seokjin to shiver, unconsciously pulling you closer to his body and you seek his warmth. Closing your eyes, you cuddle into his broad chest as you listen to him continue with the conversation.

“She’s just the front desk secretary, Kicks.”

“Exactly. A lower level employee who has slept with both Kim Namjoon, the CEO, and Park Jimin, a board member’s son—who knows who else is on the list. She can choose to sell her stories to the highest bidder, at any time, for any reason. But she does her job, so we have no reason to fire her that wouldn’t be contestable in a court.”

“Ohhhh,” Seokjin’s eyebrows raise cutely, “the risk is that she could cause us to spend money in court, be tied up in litigation, or spend money on a settlement.”

“I knew you were the CFO for a reason,” you smile up at him from where he has you comfortably tucked, and he looks so handsome from this view.

“Ah, Kicks, you need to have a little fun in your life. No risk, no reward.” He winks at you, and under the city lights, he looks dazzling. “I would also like to point out something you may or may not be privy to…but I happen to know there are currently four successful workplace romances happening at this moment. They’re cute,” he sighs wistfully, “I wish I had a cute work boo.”

“Yes, I am privy to this knowledge, seeing as I work with you, gossip queen,” you tease, “but also, relationships can look one way to outsiders, but in reality, there could be all sorts of issues, abuse, infidelity, petty arguments…”

“Yeah, those are my friends outside of work—accusing them of abuse and cheating is a bit of a reach to try and prove your singular example right.” He looks at you thoughtfully. “I bet if we were dating, we would easily be successful. Not everything is a risk.”

“If we were dating, we wouldn’t be stupid like them,” you nod back to where the two lovebirds are canoodling in the shadowed corner of the room, “but still risky nonetheless.”

“How about this…I’ll take you out on a few dates, and we can see if anyone we work with catches wind of our fake relationship. I think we could keep it under wraps for two weeks.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“How about those pretty Jimmy Choo heels you were eyeing? Prove me wrong and they’re yours.”

You feel your eyes grow wide, imagining those coveted heels on your feet as you walk into work once the new year rolls in.

“I’m feeling like I may regret this in the morning, but what the hell, I want those shoes…It’s a deal.”

📈📈📈📈📈

The following Sunday evening finds you lounging around at home, cleaning and doing laundry as you sip a glass of red wine and come up with your list of rules for your challenge with Seokjin. In the light of day and with sober minds, you texted each other, realizing that you need some way to measure the challenge. Also, he needed to make sure that you weren’t set on sabotaging the relationship from jump, just to get the shoes.

Jin (8:47 PM): I’ve thought about it, and here are my rules. Okay? We’re dating, so act like we’re dating but be discreet and don’t tell anyone and win on purpose. You (8:47 PM): That’s…so professional of you. Jin (8:48 PM): There you go again… You (8:49 PM): Shut up. You (8:50 PM): Anyways, here’s what I came up with: [Link to spreadsheet] No telling anyone that we’re dating during these 2 weeks ~Saturday Dec 9 - Saturday Dec 23 Must go on 6 dates, 3 each week, with at least one date each week right after work, where you drive us Have to attend two meetings together with other coworkers and successfully get away with the following: Disappear at the same time from desk/office during peak work hours for 30 minutes, twice during week 2 without anyone growing suspicious of the two of us missing Jin (9:02 PM): I appreciate your attention to detail, but also, you kind of take the fun out of the dating part. You (9:04 PM): You want to make sure I don’t cheat, and I want to make sure you don’t either. So, in order to test this accurately, we need to be able to measure it. By having set actions and goals we have to get away with, I think this is the best way to determine who wins in the end. Jin (9:05 PM): We could just act like a couple and wing it, but I guess knowing what to do with you is easier. You like being touched…noted. You (9:06 PM): Don’t make it awkward. Jin (9:06 PM): You didn’t mention kissing at work? Are we doing that? I think it would be fun. Jin (9:08 PM): Or does that come with the sneaking away? Should I pick up some listerine for the office? Any preference on condom brands or flavors? You: {Left on Read}

📈📈📈📈📈

Sitting at your desk, your eyes drag to the bottom corner of the computer screen to the email alert. Clicking it open, you see a message from Seokjin with weekly reports he’s run for your review. As you begin to open the spreadsheets he’s sent, you notice he’s changed his signoff at the end of the email.

Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa

You hold back a gag, unable to believe the audacity he has, before it turns into a giggle. He really has no shame, you think, deciding two can play this game. Hitting reply, you send him a thank you, making sure to sign off in like.

Leaning back in your chair, you stretch before diving into the work he sent.

Time seems to fly by, with the sun filtering into your office slowly moving across the carpet. You don’t notice, so engrossed in your work as you are, that Seokjin is leaning in your doorway, eyes watching you with a soft smile.

“Ready to go, baby girl?”

Seokjin’s voice startles you, breaking your concentration. Your boss has changed out of his business suit slacks, a crisp pair of blue jeans tailored to fit his body now gracing his frame as his button down disappears into the waistband. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, revealing his expensive watch and veins as he flexes involuntarily.

“Seokjin!” you gasp out, clutching a hand to your chest above your now racing heart.

“Now, is that any way to address your boyfriend who is about to take you out on a date?”

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Fake boyfriend, you mean,” you correct, gathering your purse onto your shoulder as you lock your computer before looking down to arrange the printed reports neatly.

“Real enough for the next two weeks, baby girl,” he counters, voice significantly closer.

You feel the warmth of his body pressing into your backside as he envelops you in a hug, his face nuzzling into your neck as if seeking comfort. Freezing, your body betrays you as a burst of butterflies flit around your tummy and your neck cranes as if to accommodate his face, waiting for him to plant a kiss on your sweet spot.

Instead he steps back, and it takes you a few seconds to regain your composure.

“I’m gonna regret signing my email as that, aren’t I?” you question, following him out of your office.

“Hmm, it's possible, but more likely, you’ll prefer it to Kicks and ask me not to stop calling you that.”

“Doubt it,” you mumble, though your conscious thought is looking at you skeptically. It’s been one day, and your body is already taking this fake relationship as reality.

“We’ll see,” is his only response, though after the two of you step into the elevator, he reaches for your hand.

“You’re quite the touchy-feely boyfriend, Jinnie-Oppa,” you tease.

“Because I know it’s what you like. I know you’ve identified set things you’d like to do to test the relationship, but I’m more of a go with the flow guy, y’know? And I have a reputation to protect. Fake or not, I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

Again, the traitorous butterflies appear, and they remain long after he’s dropped your hand to walk across the lobby to the parking garage entrance, looking mischievously around the lot as he opens the passenger side door to let you into his car.

Date number one surprises you, as you’re expecting Seokjin to resort to either typical chaebol actions, like a fancy reservation at an upscale restaurant, or be lazy with his choice, and take you to something owned by his family. Seokjin did neither, instead he surprises you with a fun outing. He swings by your place, telling you to change into something casual and you’re glad you did. Zzang Games, located in Hongdae, is a multi-floor entertainment center, perfect for competing or pairing up for various arcade and VR games.

For a Monday evening it's not too busy, mostly tourists and students on the claw machines and engaged in battle royales, and you think it’s pretty smart of Seokjin to choose this. Your coworkers most likely would not be out at a place like this on a weekday, so you’re less likely to get caught, and as a date, it’s definitely the type of relaxed setting that would allow two people to learn more about each other. If that was something the two of you were interested in, which it’s not. Right?

Later that night in bed, you fall asleep thinking about how much fun you had with Seokjin and that maybe he’s right about workplace romances, but if he is, then you can kiss those Jimmy Choo shoes goodbye...

Seokjin wasn’t lying to you when he said he would be the best boyfriend you’ve ever experienced in the two weeks assigned to dating, and it’s only been three days. Yesterday, you received a delivery of flowers discreetly signed from Your Lover. Several of the women that share your floor asked about the blooming perennials, curious to know who they came from. You just said it was a new thing, much like the vase full of buds that was blossoming; not yet a relationship, but still something nonetheless.

Today, just before you head to the Tuesday weekly meeting, Seokjin comes into your office to deliver you a cold French vanilla latte with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle across the fluffy topping.

“Well isn’t this sweet,” you say with a thank you, instantly mouthing at the whipped cream. You watch as Seokjin’s eyes follow your lips as you try and get the excess cream off the sides of your mouth. Turning away from you, he moves to leave. You follow, ready for the meeting, when Seokjin stops abruptly, turning on his heel in the doorway.

“What—”

His plush lips land on yours, a hand moving to the back of your hair to hold you in place as he gently bites your bottom lip before pulling away from the unexpected kiss.

“You missed a spot, Kicks, didn’t want anyone else coming to your rescue in the meeting.”

He steps away, resuming his path to the conference room as you blink feverishly at his departing silhouette. It takes you a few seconds to gather your wits and hustle after him, heels click-clacking on the tile as you hurry to catch up.

📈📈📈📈📈

Meetings lately suck.

Ever since you, or, the finance department, has been put on the hot seat, it feels like everyone is looking to you to fix things that aren’t your area of concern. It doesn’t help that you and Seokjin have made this stupid bet to see who is right about workplace romances. All so you can have those coveted Jimmy Choos.

“Thank you Taehyung, I’m sure the board will be able to vote on your proposal after reviewing the presentation.” The CEO’s voice snaps you back from where you’re daydreaming, face still warm and mouth tingling from your fake lover’s amorous encounter earlier. Absent-mindedly you run a finger across your bottom lip, not really listening to a word any of your coworkers have to say.

“Next up will be an update on the finances—we’ll take a quick five minute break before we resume.”

You jump when you feel a hand on your thigh, a soft pressure as Seokjin turns your chair gently towards himself.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to present this time,” he says lowly into your ear. You feel the breath of his words caress your neck, a shiver rolling down your spine at how close he is. His hand then moves to your back, and to anyone in the room watching, it would look like two work partners preparing for their presentation.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Maybe because you look a little…flustered. Don’t worry baby girl, this presentation’s on me.” Seokjin grasps your hand under the conference room table, and you don’t really hear anything else he says as he brings his other hand to the tablet in front of you, clicking a few things so he can connect to the projector now that Taehyung has packed away his materials. “That was much longer than five seconds, I think I’m killing it.”

“Huh?” you question, confused.

He releases your fingers from where they were intertwined with his own, raising his hand to wiggle his five left fingers in your face with a smug look.

“Just sit here and look pretty, darling,” he jokes, but his eyes look serious when he swoops his hand over your ear, tucking away a wayward strand before standing to present, “and can you click through the slides for me?” he says this part louder, drawing everyone’s attention to you.

You can only nod, bashful and confused, and curse Kim Seokjin for being so goddamn charming, and so damn good at this game.

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Date number two the following day is your idea—a nice tandem bike ride along the Han River before sunset. The temperature is chilly, but you make sure to warn Seokjin in advance so he meets you wearing a warm fluffy white jacket, a matching beanie, and gloves. He’s thankful you let him know to dress warmly.

Seoul winters have 5 AM sunrises and near 8 PM sunsets, so the view along the river is gorgeous, a clear Wednesday with barely a cloud in the sky. Seokjin can’t believe he actually works up a sweat during the leisurely ride, but with the sun still out and no clouds to offer any shade, when the two of you finish your trip, he strips off his jacket for a breather.

He notices the way you eye his arms as they flex to grab his wallet from his back pocket so he can pay for your hot cocoa. It makes him feel good about himself, and his chances with you once this competition is over. What better way to make you fall for him and realize dating him is feasible, than by a trial run—as he likes to call it.

Seokjin is aware that you play by the rules, not just in work, where it’s expected, but in your day to day too, in relationships with coworkers and how you move through life. The only time he’s witnessed you behave in a way that goes against this is when you splurge to buy heels online. He feels like it was pure luck that he was able to finesse his trial run relationship with you, but he knows it is the data that you need to prove it’s worth the risk—he’s worth the risk.

When you shiver from the breeze coming off of the river, he wastes no time layering his fluffy jacket over your thin, long-sleeve athletic shirt, loving the way the jacket dwarfs you despite your heeled boots—yes, even when riding bikes, you make sure to have that slight lift that makes your ass sit ever so nicely in your jeans.

He enjoys the way you snuggle yourself deeper into his jacket, subtly inhaling the scent of his cologne and it’s just another confirmation to himself that maybe you could really turn this into something real with him, that maybe you like him back. He played it safe with the first date, and your choice for today is cute, but he doesn’t have much time to prove to you that he’s serious. He knows that the next date is the time for him to turn up the heat.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

The atmosphere in the restaurant for date three is so far removed from the arcade of date one, you don’t really know how to behave. You use the term restaurant loosely, seeing as you are currently floating along the Han River. A candlelight dinner on a ferry at sunset was not what you expected from Seokjin. Looking around the room, you can’t help but notice how many of the tables are empty in comparison to what your friends have told you about this experience, but you’re sure Seokjin pulled some strings. There’s maybe seven other couples in the room. He confirms as much as he pulls your attention back to him.

“I bought out as many of the tables as I could to ensure your utmost devotion during our date, and still you can’t keep your eyes on me,” he jokes, bringing his wine glass to his lips, “but some people had already purchased tables and I couldn’t get them to refund it.” Your eyes follow the burgundy liquid as it slips between his lips, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows it down. You tug at the form-fitting maroon dress you have on, one that Seokjin presented to you before leaving work to make the reservation.

“I was just wondering why it was so empty, but now that I know, I promise to focus on you.” You hate how much you don’t hate how the words sound; Seokjin is a sight to behold as the sun begins its descent below the horizon, and you find that you don’t want to look away from him. It’s a bit confusing for you because there’s a small part of your brain that doesn’t want to like this. He’s your boss, for one, and two, your competitive side is thinking about the fact that you want those shoes. Plus, you also like to be right. Though if you’re being honest with yourself—

“All women do is lie,” Seokjin says, paired with a firm settling down of the glass goblet onto the tablecloth. “Promising to focus on me, and then daydreaming seconds after—unless you were daydreaming about me?”

“Yes, daydreaming about strangling you for being so insufferable.”

“Didn’t know you were also into asphyxiation, but I will add that to the list alongside ‘likes to be touched’.”

You want to wipe the smirk off of his face. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is Kim Seokjin, and no matter how he seems to fool you for a moment, give it a few minutes and he will say something to reign it back in.

“So, I know we’re going to run this relationship for two weeks, and I thought about the perfect way to figure out if we pass or fail.”

You nod as you take a bite of the filet mignon on the plate before you. “Oh, do tell,” you implore, chewing delicately so as to not appear impolite.

“Be my date to Namjoon’s Christmas party.” Seokjin’s nonchalant tone throws you for a loop and you miss the connection between the two things.

“Be your—excuse me,” you cough, clearing your throat from when you inhaled unceremoniously. “You want me to be your date to the CEO’s Christmas party?”

“Yeah, it makes perfect sense. When we arrive, everyone will either act surprised seeing us as a couple, or think that I invited you as my friendly, plus-one coworker. Either way, we can use that as the true test to see if we passed or failed.” Seokjin grins proudly, waiting for you to applaud his brilliance.

“Hmm, it does seem like a good idea.” You look back at your food, hiding the fact that you were confused earlier. “I’m assuming the people invited will be people who attend meetings with us or work with us regularly?”

“Obviously, I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll be your date.”

“Great. I’ll forward you the e-vite later tonight so you can prepare yourself for it, I know how you are.”

You smile softly at him; despite his teasing tone, you know that the act of sending you the details is one that shows he knows you and cares to some degree about your comfortability. He’s seen you freak out a few times over lack of information before meetings or events that you’ve had to attend for the company. You wonder what other things he’s filed away about you to make sure that you’re taken care of, so to speak. Maybe this is also who Kim Seokjin is. His duality is throwing you for a loop.

Before you can think of a way to safely broach that topic, the live band playing shifts to a song you recognize, but without lyrics, you can’t name it just yet.

“I love this song!” Seokjin surprises you when he comments, proffering a hand to you. “Do you want to dance?”

In the fading sunlight, his eyes sparkle with a joyful playfulness that you can’t say no to. Taking his hand, you allow him to pull you towards an opening, thanks to the lack of patrons on board, and gathering you into his arms, the two of you sway to the beat.

You are acutely aware that his hands are placed right at the small of your back, pinkies bordering the curve of your ass as you hold onto his broad shoulders.

“Relax a little, can you look like you actually enjoy dancing with me?”

“Sorry, I—”

“Shhh, just dance with me—you look beautiful by the way.” He smiles down at you, and you comply, wrapping your hands to rest casually around his neck to loosen your stiff posture as you try to hide the heat rising to your face.

As the music plays, you hear Seokjin humming gently along to it before he begins to sing lightly. “Say my name and everything just stops, I don’t want you like a best friend…Only bought this dress so you can take it off, take it off, ah ah ah~.”

Hearing the lyrics jogs your memory of the song, and you remember how much of a fan Seokjin is of Taylor Swift. Until the words catch up to your brain and you look up at him scandalized.

“Only bought me this dress so you can take it off?” you ask, trying to step away from him, but his hold on you is firm.

“Kicks, everything that I buy you from here on out, I would love to remove from your body, except for the heels.” He doesn’t look at you, playfully swirling you around in a circle with a smile, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that you can’t shake. You bite your lip, unable to stop the racing thoughts as he takes one of your hands from where you’ve moved them to his chest, spinning you in a circle on the dance floor as the band continues to play.

He pulls you close again, this time with your back to his front and keeps hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Are you having fun yet?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I’m dancing with you, aren’t I?” you deflect, and he chuckles knowingly.

Seokjin resumes his gentle singing, swaying with you as other guests begin to dance and waiters clear the finished entrees so they could prepare for dessert. As the song finally ends, you walk back to your seat, sitting gingerly to combat the pooling between your thighs from the friction dancing must have caused. Rubbing up against someone is just a part of dancing. What else could explain the slight bulge you felt nestled between your cheeks as you swayed in Seokjin’s arms?

The small crystal bowls of strawberry gelato are a nice distraction to cool down the heat you feel around your throat and cheeks, but watching the way that Seokjin’s lips wrap around the metal spoon to gently suck at the ice cream, smoothing down the scoop of pink dessert sitting on it, well, it doesn’t help as much as one would hope.

When you’ve both finished and the boat begins to dock back into the wharf, Seokjin comes to your side, offering you a hand to help you stand. You grasp it, but as you stand, the ferry lurches on the water, and you stumble into his chest. The motion causes him to fall backwards taking you with him as he attempts to protect you on the fall.

As the boat settles, you look up, seeing that you’ve landed side-saddle style on Seokjin’s lap, his legs bent to the side opposite of where yours are. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders still, your faces much closer than you’ve ever found them to be.

“Are you okay?” he asks, arms tightening from where they’re wrapped around your waist.

“Mmhmm,” you nod, the act bringing your lips closer to his with every upward movement.

“You sure, Kicks?” he breathes out even quieter, face inching ever so closer.

“Never better,” you answer, a rush of air caressing his lips, so close you feel the blowback of it, and an urge like never before comes over you to just lean in and taste the strawberry off his lips.

And just as his lips begin to touch yours, a flurry of activity from the ship's stewards pulls you apart as they check on your wellbeing. They help you climb off of Seokjin’s lap, apologizing profusely for the boat’s severe rocking and offering coupons on drinks and food and a free trip to save from receiving a bad review. You let Seokjin negotiate with the workers, focusing solely on your breathing. You do this as you leave, as Seokjin drives you home, and as you stand in the steaming shower attempting to scrub yourself of his touch, of the feelings they elicit from you, and what it might mean.

But there’s nothing that you can do to stop the images that infiltrate your thoughts as you dream of a satin dress falling to the floor, strawberry lips that cover every inch of your skin, and your high-heel-clad feet resting on his shoulders.

Work the next day is weird to say the least, as you expected to be bombarded with Seokjin smirking and strutting around the office, but when you arrive, he’s nowhere to be seen. In order to keep your mind free of all of the newly budding feelings, you throw yourself into your work, following up on the financial reports for the week so far to track the flow of money within the company and see if the different measures you’ve put into place have made a difference in the end-of-fiscal-year outcome and if the company is in the black once more.

The day seems to go by fast, with Seokjin never appearing in the finance department at all, and no encounters with him when you left to grab food with NaBi, Khaity, Khaity’s best friend Leah, and Hana. You expected to see him round the corner and enter your office at least once you were back from lunch, but he doesn’t appear, and instead of feeling relief at avoiding what you feel will be an awkward encounter, you feel nervous and worried about where he’s at.

After spinning aimlessly in your desk chair, having read the same line in the report seven times, you reach for your phone, finger hovering over his name. Would an email be more appropriate? It was working hours and you’ve never really called him outside of work like this before. You decide to call anyway, brain already coming up with a way to write it off as part of the challenge much like he did the whip cream kiss, when he answers.

“Hello?” he answers, a little breathless, and you pause, confused at the sounds you hear in the background. “Kicks?”

You’re about to answer when you hear a feminine voice from the background, asking who Kicks is.

“Give me a moment,” you hear him say, followed by the background sounds fading a bit as he steps away from wherever he’s located. He says your name, but you’re still stuck on what you’ve heard. “Baby girl?” he tries, and it works, breaking you from your green-eyed stupor.

“I’m here,” you respond, voice lowered as you try and navigate the feeling in your chest.

“Is something wrong? You’re worrying me.”

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just haven’t seen you at work today—”

“Oh, I had a dentist appointment this morning, but Namjoon sent me to meet with some fiduciary specialists and can you believe they don’t have elevators in their building? I had to walk four flights of stairs and I was so worried something was wrong and I was going to have to run back down those four flights to get to you—”

Your peals of laughter halt his rambling, and he stays quiet as you taper off into light giggles.

“No, everything is fine, sorry to interrupt your meeting.”

“No, I forgot to put it into the calendar so you would know, I’m sorry if I worried you. This woman who looks old enough to be my grandma is glaring at me though, so let me finish this meeting and then I’ll fill you in on what I learned tomorrow.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m coming now—okay, babe, be good, bye!”

The phone clicks off and you set it down, utterly confused at the ease with which he called you a pet name; it wasn’t done teasingly, but more like a slip, as if he always referred to you as such and was comfortable with doing so. But even more pressing is the way you feel, no longer anxious at Seojin’s unknown whereabouts, no longer jealous of him being around another woman sounding suspiciously out of breath, and tummy all aflutter at him calling you babe.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Friday, fighting!” NaBi calls out as you both head towards the entrance; her weekly Friday morning greeting makes you wave at her.

“I hope you have a great day, NaBi!” you say as you both make your way towards the elevator. You expect to see NaBi press the button to Namjoon’s floor, since she is essentially his personal assistant and secretary, but instead she chooses to go to a different floor, IT.

“Same to you, I’m sure it will be a great Friday. Any more horrid meetings?” she asks, privy to the situation thanks to her role within the company.

“No, thank god. We’re back to our weekly Tuesday meetings, and luckily, since they know Jin and I are working on the finances, they’ve left me alone for most of them.”

“That’s good, I hope Jin isn’t working you to the bone,” NaBi quips, and you have to stop yourself from sharing your latest thoughts and feelings.

“No, no, everything is good there, he’s actually been really attentive and helpful with trying to fix all of the wanton spending, so hopefully there’s no more vile meetings with the crusty old board members.”

As the doors slide open to the IT department, NaBi steps out, a large smile on her face as she looks towards a specific open door.

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” you ask pointedly, nodding towards a certain muscle bunny’s office before the elevator has a chance to close.

“When you wear sneakers to work!” she laughs out, waving you off.

“Never!”

📈📈📈📈📈

The weekend seems to go by quickly because you’re still working remotely on financial reports in your pajamas, so despite the turmoil you feel about everything, it gets set to the back burner. You remember late on Sunday that it’s once again your turn to plan the date for the following day, and so while you may not wear sneakers ever to the office or even tandem bike riding in winter, you will rock the heck out of the blue, red and tan bowling shoes when your competitive side strikes. And after such a romantic, sexually charged date, you want to try and put some space between you and Seokjin once again.

Your pep talk to yourself on the way to work Monday morning consists of you reminding yourself that this isn’t real.

“Seokjin’s unserious, you know he’s not capable of real emotions.” Your face looks back at you from the reflection in the window on the bus. “The date meant nothing. He’s just playing with you because he can. He wants you to let your guard down and forget the true game is afoot.” The man behind you on the bus looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind talking to yourself and you pretend you’re talking to someone on the phone. “You are in this to prove to Seokjin that dating at work is risky because people always find out, and thus win a pair of heels. Nothing more.”

But if what you told yourself this morning is the case, why do you want to sit and watch Seokjin run his fingers through his hair as he combs it out of his face? Why do you want to stare into his coffee-colored eyes as he talks to you about different techniques for bowling? You could care less about bowling skills, but watching the words come from between his pink pillow lips makes it mesmerizing.

“Do you want bumpers?” he asks as he finishes lacing his shoes.

You shoot him a glare before answering, “No, I do not need bumpers, I’m decent at bowling, thank you very much.”

You aren’t lying either, you have pretty good hand eye coordination, but it has been several years since you’ve last gone bowling. You can typically score in the range of seventies to the hundreds, not a gutterball queen like he assumes. You hope to dazzle him with your abilities.

“Okay, I think I’m going to use the 12-pound ball, what size do you need? A 7 or 8-pound?”

“An 8-pound please! I sometimes use a 7 or a 9-pound when I need speed or to slow down for precision, but I’ll start with the 8 for now.” You stand and stretch, missing Seokjin’s eyes rove your figure.

“Got it boss, I’ll deliver you an 8-pounder.” Jin chuckles to himself as he grabs the two large spheres from the rack.

“Why does it sound like you’re planning to give me a newborn?”

“My mother and father would be happy to have a grandchild, now that I think about it,” Seokjin winks as he places the bowling balls into the ball return.

“Kim Seokjin, sometimes I really just want to bang yo—”

“Me against the wall outside in the alleyway? I won’t lie, that would be a good way to get my parents started on a grandchild.”

“Ugh! Please just bowl, it’s your turn.” You sit down and cross your arms, irritated with his quips. He’s the most unserious person you have ever met, and yet he still manages to push the boundaries of unserious levels daily.

Despite this, you are enjoying yourself as date four progresses, with game one ending with you beating Seokjin, and game two causing a tie to declare who is the best at bowling. Game three starts off the same, but halfway through, now pleasantly pliant with several soju shots, you both are giggling a lot more, being playful with trick shots.

“Okay, okay, that was surprisingly accurate,” you laugh as Seokjin rights himself from where he had bent over to throw the bowling ball between his legs. You step up with your bowling ball, poised to be dramatic like you’ve seen people do on TV.

“Always the look of surprise from you, I am actually quite talented at many things, especially when it comes to using my hands.” His eyebrows wiggle suggestively, but with his face flushed red from being upside down and from alcohol, it is more comical than sexy.

The burst of laughter that follows throws you off balance. One second, you are gearing up to do a ‘professional’ throw, left hand bracing the ball you have held in your right, three fingers balancing the weight, but when your hand swings back, he says his lewd saying and instead of releasing the ball when your arm pendulums forward, you keep hold of it. The weight of the ball still attached to your fingers propels you forward and you lose your footing on the overly slick flooring of the lane.

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the curse escaping your mouth as you try your best to maintain your footing, but your ankle rolls as your body topples onto the resin-coated wood floor. You cry out from the twinge it causes, a shooting pain traveling along the side of your leg.

Seokjin laughs, loud squeaks that resemble windshield wipers that have seen better days, and while you are nearly in tears from the stinging ache, you start to laugh too as you hold your ankle slightly above the ground.

“Jin, stop laughing, it hurts!” you giggle through the tears, and the bouncing from the laughter jostles your ankle and you let out a whimper. He’s next to you instantly, still chuckling as he tries to soothe you.

“I’m sorry, but that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” he wipes away a tear and then touches your leg gingerly. “Does it hurt here?”

You nod. “Yes, it’s similar to shin splints, but on the side.”

“Can you stand?” Seokjin offers his hands to you and you pull yourself up onto one leg, too afraid to put any weight on the hurt ankle. Your bowling ball lay forgotten as you hobble to the nearest seat. “I meant like can you put weight on it, but it appears you can’t…We only had three frames left anyways, let’s call it a night for bowling.” He looks at you with sympathy. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

“No, I promise, it’ll be fine, just some ice and I’ll prop it up on a few pillows.”

Seokjin puts away the bowling balls and cleans up a little while you slowly loosen the laces. You transition one boot back on, and he comes back over to you in time to help gently remove the other bowling shoe off your foot.

“Let me return our shoes and then I’ll help you to the car.”

You stretch as far as you can reach to gather your purse and test the mobility of your ankle, hoping to avoid being carried bridal style out. It still hurts and looks a little swollen, but you’ve done this a few times as an adolescent so you already know how to treat it. Seokjin squats down in front of you, giving you his back so that you can climb on and he can koala-carry you out of the building.

Hesitantly you wrap your arms around his neck, realizing that this position is much worse than if he had chosen the bridal style. Now you know exactly how well he fits between your thighs, how firmly his hands wrap under your thighs. There’s no way to distance yourself from him as you physically have to rely on him to transport you to the car, your breasts pressing into his back.

Surprisingly, Seokjin doesn’t make any jokes as he carts you out, just asks after your pain and comfort levels. Once he’s parked outside of your building, he helps you to your door. You draw the line there though, not letting him come in.

“We have work tomorrow, I’m just going to take some painkillers, take a quick shower, grab some ice and pillows, then sleep. Promise, I won’t do anything strenuous.”

“Fine. On one condition though. I’m picking you up to take you to work the rest of the week until it heals.” Seokjin looks at you with eyes that showcase his finality, and you agree so you can escape him.

“I’ll meet you downstairs at 7:30 sharp,” you acquiesce, “and Seokjin…thank you.”

“Anything for you, I told you, as your boyfriend these two weeks, I’ll be the best boyfriend—as long as you let me.”

Before you can protest, he leans down and kisses your forehead gently, and he disappears from sight before you’ve moved to shut the door.

Seokjin’s POV

Watching as you walk gingerly into the Tuesday morning meeting, Seokjin shakes his head at you remembering your refusal this morning to change into flats or sneakers, so Seokjin only agrees to allow you to continue to work if you sport an ankle wrap under your heeled boot. He stops at Daiso before parking, but because of the time, he lets you out with a promise to put it on once you get to your office.

“Why are you limping so badly? The bandage should be giving you more support than that, is it on correctly?” Seokjin asks as you walk to your seat next to him. He stands to pull out the wheely chair for you, one hand on your back to guide you into the seat and the other holding your hand as you lower yourself to get comfortable.

“I haven’t put it on yet,” you reply, avoiding eye contact. He returns to his chair sending you a searing stare full of judgment.

“Kicks, the longer it takes your ankle to heal, the longer I can’t enjoy seeing you in heels. You know I love how you look in heels.” His hand grazes along the top of your thigh, but you clamp a hand on top of his to stop the movement.

“I knew you had an ulterior motive!”

He chuckles, but it fades away as you seem to take advantage of the situation and thread your fingers through his. He fully expects that after ten seconds you’ll pull away and go back to taking notes on what the CEO says as he talks to the group. Except that you don’t, instead settling into the meeting, holding hands with Seokjin for far longer than necessary, not that he’s complaining.

Once the meeting adjourns, you disappear back to your office faster than Seokjin thought possible with an injured ankle, but he takes advantage of the time to shoot an email to Namjoon and Yoongi before going to gather some items. It’s not long before he appears in your doorway.

“Come with me, and bring your wrap,” he demands, though his tone is not harsh. He can’t be mad at you, not when you’ve provided him with the perfect opportunity.

With a sigh, you hobble over to the door and follow as he leads you around a few corners until you’re alone in one of the many break rooms in the building. This one in particular is similar to the library where the holiday party was held, but smaller, with a conference table in the middle of the sun-filled room.

Seokjin leads you to the table, and preemptively picks you up by your underarms to place you on the table before you can resist. He makes sure to be gentle as he lifts your leg to the table, undoing your boot so he can check your ankle out. You’re wearing loose slacks today, which makes it easier for him to access your sprain. Delicately, he smoothes the pant leg up your leg, his hand warming as it skates across your skin.

He swears he hears an intake of breath from the touch, a reflection of the sparks he’s feeling, but instead of calling attention to it, afraid of scaring you off, he reaches behind you, retrieving the bag of ice wrapped in paper towels. Settling onto the tabletop, he puts your foot in his lap.

“This might be a little cool, but we need to treat the swelling.”

The moment feels oddly intimate, and it’s Seokjin’s turn now to duck his head and avoid eye contact. He adjusts the ice pack onto your ankle, one hand cupping your heel as the other keeps the pack in place on top of your foot. Your foot struggles a little at the frosty feeling, and Seokjin has to maintain his breathing as you unknowingly wiggle atop his crotch.

“Sorry,” you mumble, settling your hands behind you on the table as you get comfortable.

“It’s expected,” he returns, and the smile you give him only adds to the hope blossoming in his chest.

The next twenty minutes are spent talking about everything and nothing, and the last ten he spends tickling the bottom of your foot as he helps slide the bandage onto your ankle, all so he can hear your laugh and have your hands on him as you try to get him to leave your foot alone.

“I don’t want to kick you in the face, but if you touch the bottom of my foot again, I can’t say I—Jin!” you squeal, wriggling backwards in an attempt to escape, but he just follows you, his body covering yours as you lean back breathlessly on the table.

“Yes?” His smile is teasing as his arm extends to protect the back of your head as he presses closer to you.

“Please, I can’t take it! I’m too ticklish!”

“But that’s exactly why I can’t stop, Kicks. You’re too cute when you’re flustered, under me like this.”

He sees the exact moment that you notice the precarious position he’s put you in, with Seokjin leaning between your knees, chest to chest as he cradles your head. He didn’t know that he would love the feel of your body under him this much, almost as much as when you were on his lap on the boat. He can smell one of the fragrances you carry, whether it be your shampoo, a perfume, or just a natural scent, he already knows if he can’t make this thing with you real, he’s going to miss it.

“Jin,” he watches you bring your hands to his chest, expecting you to push him away, but to his surprise—and probably your own he suspects—you don’t. He stares at you, drinking in all of the things he’s grown to love about your features over time: the way your eyebrows furrow in thought, lips slightly parted as breaths escape them, and gorgeous eyes wide in wonder as you look back at him.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

This close up, he watches as your face changes slightly, lips closing to a shy smile, cheek more prominent and your eyes glittering at the compliment. If you plan to ask him later about the kiss, he’ll tell you it was him if it keeps you from getting scared off, but he sees you move first, clear as day in the reflecting sun. You lift your head out of his hand where it’s cradled, pressing your lips to his and he lets out a tiny groan to rival the throaty moan you release as his tongue seeks entry into your mouth.

He’s both happy and sad at the position he has you in, because while it allows him to be here like this, kissing you, it also doesn’t allow for much more and is becoming quite uncomfortable as he attempts to keep his weight from crushing you. His tongue plays with yours for a few more moments before he tapers off, slowing the progression of the kiss to playful pecks.

Once Seokjin is satisfied that you are giggly and pliant, he clambers off of you, reaching both hands out to help pull you back into a seated position on the table.

“So,” he starts, wanting to test and see how he’s doing in terms of winning you over, “am I the best short-term boyfriend you’ve ever had?” He doesn’t notice the way your eyes dim slightly hearing the phrase ‘short-term’, as he’s busying himself with adjusting the ankle bandage before helping you put back on your boot.

Jin is excited to hear you softly reply, “Yes, Jin, you are.”

If he’s a little more aware, maybe he’d be able to pick up on more than just your words, and realize a lot more about how you’re feeling concerning the situation you both are in.��

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

It’s killing you to not be able to talk to your work friends about what’s going on. Seeing as you missed out on lunch yesterday due to your shenanigans with Seokjin, the girls ask a few questions.

“I got our favorite shrimp tempura sushi to split with you, but I ended up eating it all myself,” Leah pouts at you as you join them today.

A lie easily rolls off your tongue. “Oh, last minute reports were emailed to me, with the deadline coming up thanks to the holidays, they’re running them daily now to look for any sign up upward movement on the graphs.”

They buy it, easily shutting down any romance rumors they could have generated. You realize that you could have told some of the truth, that Seokjin was babying you because you sprained your ankle, and maybe help you win the shoes that started this insanity. Instead, with that little fib, it appears you’ve worked against your best interest, planting no seeds to make the others think something’s going on romantically between you and Seokjin.

You’ve been so busy with work and secretly dating, you forgot that your girls would be the best chance you have to prove that you are right and Seokjin is wrong.

Seriously, I could have told most of the truth, and that would have been enough to have the girls ask why Seokjin was taking care of me. I would deny anything they accused, because I can’t break my own rules, but planting that seed would allow them to at least wonder. They might then, as women do, embark on a hunt for the truth. Then when it came time at the party to ask if anyone had found out, they would be the ones to stand up and say yes! But I’m a little too good at this, you say, forehead wrinkled in disdain at yourself, exactly what Seokjin must be banking on to win this thing.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles and then you’ll be single forever!” Hana jokes, and you laugh listlessly.

Maybe it’s time you call someone you can talk to about everything going on.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Grandma, you don’t understand, he’s unserious on his best days, insufferable on his worst, and…” you pause, adjusting your leg where you have it propped up on a small chair you stole from an empty office. You plan to leave in a few minutes so you can go home and get ready for your date with Seokjin, but wanted to rest your ankle briefly before walking to the bus stop. It doesn’t hurt as much now, but you want to make sure it heals up well to avoid any weakening later.

She hums knowingly in your ear. “Let me guess, he’s handsome, rich, and doesn’t appreciate his status in life.”

“Yes! Exactly, he lives with an all play and no work attitude—”

“And you want him to be your boyfriend,” she tacks on, effectively shutting you down.

“Grandma!”

“What? You called me for some real talk, right?”

You whine, and she laughs, her musical giggle making you miss her.

“Sweetie, listen. I’ve known you your whole life, so I know you pretty well. You like things that are orderly and neat, that fit well into your life. But that’s not much of a fun life. And it’s not what we hoped for you when we sent you off to Seoul.” You hear her sigh, and remain quiet, knowing she’s about to impart something that will stay with you. “It sounds like this Jin guy is exactly the kind of man you need in your life. He’s realized one of the best things about life that most of us don’t realize until it’s too late: Life is not so serious that we need to live a life with regrets. Yes, he has moments where maybe he should behave with a little more…sincerity, but overall, it sounds like you do that enough between the two of you.”

You nod, biting your lip as you take in her words. “Maybe.”

“You’ve been working so hard on your schooling and then your career, and you’ve made it so far! Overcome every academic and career goal thrown at you. But that’s only part of who you are. I think it’s nice that this young man is so attuned to you, that he’s challenging you in areas like love and life.”

“Who said anything about love? We’ve only been seeing each other for a week and a half!”

“No one said you were in love, sweetie, but your defensiveness means you like him a little more than you thought.”

You tuck your phone between your ear and your shoulder, logging into your desktop so you can check some emails while you chat. Multi-tasking always helps you when you need to open up—focusing on a menial task helps cover that feeling in your chest when you discuss said feelings.

“I mean, if I’m honest with myself, yes. He’s surprised me in ways I wasn’t expecting. And I know that two people can kiss when dating, but, I don’t know…is he kissing me because he’s taking advantage of whatever this is, or is he kissing me because he likes me and wants it to be more? I’m confused about what happens next, you know?”

“My smart girl, have you thought about asking him?”

“I can’t just ask him! He’s my boss!” You wish she understood that times are not the same as when she was young.

“Yes, your boss who you are already dating!”

“But not for real! Not after Saturday!”

“What’s happening Saturday?” she questions, and you stall, not wanting to hear what she’s going to say when you tell her the full truth.

“Well, we’ve been going on dates because…we made a bet. To see if workplace romances can be kept secret or not. It started last week and we have set rules so neither of us cheats, and this Saturday is the CEO’s holiday party, which Jin invited me to as his date, and we will see if any of our work friends noticed we were dating or not.”

She laughs heartily, and you hate that she seems so wise about this when you feel so clueless.

“Oh, I needed that laugh. You’re telling me that your boss—a hot, rich executive—made a bet with you to see if workplace romances can work, he’s kissed you a few times and takes you out on dates, drives you to work now that you’ve sprained your ankle, asked you to be his date to another exec’s party, and you’re still confused about where the two of you stand?”

Hearing her put it into this perspective bolsters your confidence a bit. It isn’t like you haven’t already thought about this same formula, but your grandma is missing one term from this equation, and it's your feelings. Your feelings are clouding your ability to act on this information. You tell her just as much.

“I’m just scared. I think that the risk of rejection is overpowering everything for me right now.”

“I know that risk is scary, you think I wasn’t scared when you moved away to attend school? But the reward? Seeing you excel in your career has been so lovely to witness. I’m so proud of you. I just want you to have someone to take care of you when I’m not here anymore.”

You want to fight her on this, but you don’t want to discount her emotions. “I know, and while I’d be fine having you take care of me forever, I think it would only be fair to let you pass the heavy lifting onto someone else.”

“And by the sounds of it, Jin has a nice set of shoulders for that.”

You’re about to answer her when a knock at your door startles you.

“Hold on, Grandma,” you say before raising your voice. “Come in!”

The topic of conversation steps into your office, shutting the door behind him. “Hey, I’m so sorry to do this, but we have to push our date tonight to tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” you question, taking in the way his face is pinched, grumpy.

“Yeah, I mean, no one’s dying or anything, but my dad just sent me an email, summoning me to meet with him about a potential investor.”

“Wouldn’t this typically be Soobin’s job?” you point out. Choi Soobin, the investor relations director for JinHit, typically would meet to discuss potential investors first before looping Seokjin in as CEO.

“Yes, but you know my father…”

“I’m sorry, bab—um, b-but, it’s okay, we can move it to Thursday.” You stumble over the words, trying to cover up the slip of tongue.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m so sorry to do this.”

“No, I get it. You want to prove to your father you got this, and rightfully so. You’ve done amazing helping me with everything, even though you have so much on your plate already.”

“You know good and well that you, Soobin, and the others take on a lot of the responsibilities, I just oversee it. It’s been nice to actually get my hands dirty with work, use my degree.” Seokjin’s phone chimes. After a roll of his eyes, he apologizes again. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” With that last remark and a wink, he leaves your office. You can hear laughter coming from your phone, forgotten in your hand. Bringing your grandma back to your ear, you speak before she can.

“Don’t even start, Grandma. I already know what you’re going to say.” You click on the email invite that Seokjin sent you about the holiday party at Namjoon’s, eyes re-reading the info. “So just help me think of a good present to get him for the party Saturday.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Seokjin can’t help but to grin as he walks back to his office. You almost slipped up and called him babe. Or baby. Either way, he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and tomorrow will be the perfect moment to tell you just how he feels. He hates that he showed up less than a half hour before you get off to cancel, but he would rather give you the respect of doing it in person than over text.

He scans the subject of the email he received while in your office, seeing it’s a reply to the email he sent yesterday, from Namjoon. Hustling back to his CFO office, he logs in and clicks through the various apps until the email pops up.

Seokjin, Thank you for keeping me up to date with the financial reports, the numbers seem to be trending back up thanks to the mitigating efforts you and your department have done. Make sure to tell your better half thank you, since I know it was really all her. Also, your signature is a little…informal for work…I would love to know who is on the receiving end of the “Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa” so I can congratulate her for tying you down. I would say bring her to the party, but I know you are already planning to bring YN, and it would be rude to swap them out last minute. Kim Namjoon, MA, BSBA CEO of JinHit Conglomerate

“Ah fuck.” Jin smacks his head, realizing his mistake. This is exactly the kind of fuck up you said couples dating at work would make, but luckily, his best friend is clueless to the fact that the same person Seokjin plans to bring to the party is the same person who will hopefully end up taking him off the market. Will this lead Seokjin to lose on Saturday? He doesn’t care about losing the bet and having to buy the shoes—he can afford to buy you the same shoes every day for the rest of your life.

No, what Seokjin is most worried about is that if he loses on Saturday, it will be the data that you need, the proof that will make you decide that you can’t be with Seokjin after this is all said and done. And he can’t have that.

He begins typing out a reply, mostly to say that he agrees with Namjoon, that his email was informal and he was sorry for not paying attention, oh and of course he would make sure to introduce Namjoon to the woman one day, hopefully soon, and that yes, it would be quite rude to swap out dates last minute.

It’s an hour later after he’s finished typing out this reply that he leaves work to cross town to meet with his father. Seokjin’s feeling a little sour about the fact that he had to cancel his plans with you and meet with his dad, especially since it’s not his job to do this part of the investment process, but thanks to Do Not Disturb while driving, he misses the message his father sends.

Jin (5:15 PM): I’m leaving work now, I should be there in time for the meeting at 6:30. 아버지 (Father) (5:45 PM): The investors can’t make it today, which is lucky since you aren’t taking rush hour traffic into account. I will let you know when it has been rescheduled, and I will make sure you will be on time. Jin (6:28 PM): [Request Pay from Kim Namjung ₩25,000 for gas]

Reader POV

By Thursday, your ankle is finally feeling back to normal but you don’t want to push it too much, so you put on your lowest heels. You figure this would be perfect with your cinch-waisted dress, held shut by the buttons running down the middle. Despite the chill as you head downstairs to wait for Seokjin, you are glad with your choice thanks to the appreciative look Seokjin gives your figure. His right hand rests along your thigh as he drives you to work, talking about the date he’s planned for the two of you tonight.

“I know it’s a little chilly out, so I figured we could go check out Seoul Sky tonight, and then eat afterwards. What do you think?”

“Wow, how am I supposed to top that? I’ve never been to the observatory, but it sounds amazing.”

“What kind of food do you want to eat? You seem to like most foods, based on what you eat for lunch, but what’s your favorite?”

You ponder his question for a bit, eyes roving around the car as you gather your thoughts. “Mmm…I guess my favorite is home cooking. I miss my grandma’s meals the most since I’ve been here.”

“Ahhh, home cooking always hits the spot. I used to cook a lot when I was younger. My father was always busy with work and my brother and I were left alone a lot. My mom scolded us once for bothering the staff too much for specific meals, so we decided to learn from them how to make the meals we enjoyed. In college, I would cook a lot for the fraternity and it became a hobby of mine. My brother actually is the head of Food Science for JinHit. He handles the cafeteria, catering for entertainment, as well as Nutrition for the idols employed.”

“Really? I’ve met him a few times to discuss finances for catering services and resources for nutrition programs! He’s really cool.”

“Don’t tell me my girlfriend secretly loves my brother and I have to duel him to the death for you.”

You burst into laughter, giggly peals filling the car as Seokjin just glances at you then looks back at the road. “No! He’s just cool and he feeds us, which is super important.”

“Okay,” Seokjin says as he pulls into his designated CFO parking spot, “so the way to your heart is through shoes and food, got it.”

You climb out of the car before he can come around and open the door for you. “And don’t you forget it,” you tease, walking away from him.

Your day goes well to start, with not too many taxing assignments with the weekend fast approaching. Tomorrow is the last day at work before the office is closed for a three day weekend. Christmas falls on Monday, and despite half of the company not celebrating religiously, it is a public holiday and enjoyed as a day off by all. With the work day coming to a close, you hear when the arrival of good news enters everyone’s inbox.

“Did you see?” Soobin sticks his head into your propped open doorway, a large smile covering his face from cheek to cheek.

“Not yet, but it sounds like it’s worth celebrating!”

“It is!” His happiness is contagious. “Our gracious CEO gave us off until the 2nd of January! Since it would be a short work week anyways, he wanted everyone to be able to enjoy the holiday with family, whether they live in Seoul or Busan.”

“That’s amazing!”

“I’m off to find Yeonjun in IT, we might catch the train home together.” Soobin ducks his fluffy head out of the entryway and disappears down the hall with a loud whoop! as others continue their cheering. You smile softly to yourself as you check the email; your last minute idea to have the office closed for the holiday would save the company more than it would lose during this time. The company would be able to save on day-to-day expenditures of running a company, work that typically does not happen because of the distraction of the holiday will continue to not be done, therefore the tradeoff between having the building open for work but no work getting done would balance out, and employee morale will be greater upon returning and resuming work in the new year.

It was an idea you had thanks to your talk with your grandma. When you pointed out that Seokjin was all play no work, and unserious, she had mentioned that you needed some of that in your life. Why wouldn’t the rest of the workers in a large conglomerate also need that? You knew you weren’t the only person with a Type A personality in this building, who worked too hard and barely rewarded themselves with a vacation or fun. So a little forced vacation will do wonders all around, without a loss in sight.

Stretching your arms above your head, you finish the last of your auditing and save your report before locking your computer. You’re excited to experience Seoul Sky tonight, and not just because it is your first time experiencing it, but because who you will be with is worth the trip to such crazy heights.

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

“It’s incredible!” The view you are witnessing truly is, Seokjin can’t lie. It looks as if the city goes on forever, and the fiery rays cascade along the horizon in a beautiful show of combusting fragments of stardust.

“We made it just in time, and we will get to see the night sky too before we eat,” he says. “Let’s step a little closer, you’re missing some of the view.” He ushers you to step onto the glass floor, your low heels clicking weirdly on the thick glass.

“Oh, Seokjin, it’s exhilarating!”

“From here, you can see JinHit, it’s right there,” Seokjin leans into you, holding you tightly as if you might fall from so high up. He aligns your body so you have a better chance of seeing what he’s pointing to.

“I see it! I bet it’s gorgeous at night.”

“Mmm, yes, but maybe we should shut off the power to save money...”

You laugh at his joke, and he feels his heart flutter a little. You’ve changed towards him, and the view offers more than just all of the sights of Seoul—so many opportunities lay at the tip of his finger, still pointing at JinHit—the first one being you.

“Can you imagine how the air must be from up this high?”

He can’t bear to make a negative joke about the air quality in Seoul as he sees the way your irises seemingly reflect the setting sun, a small milky way of glittering solar systems he could get lost in.

“Yes, Kicks, I think it’s rather breathtaking...like you.”

You turn away from the sunset and he sees you catch his gaze trained in your direction, and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. The view of Seoul at sunset from almost 1,821 feet disappears around you. You’re the only thing he can see, and he only hopes that you feel the same, or at least you are starting to feel the same about him as he does for you.

📈📈📈📈📈

“When you told me about how you can cook, I didn’t know you meant that you would be cooking for me!” Sitting at the large island in Seokjin’s lofted penthouse apartment, you watch as he moves sveltely between the sink and the island stovetop, pans heated as he adds the ingredients he chopped and minced with you.

“Ah, well I wanted it to be a surprise.” He looks great in his slacks, button-down sleeves rolled up with an apron around his neck and waist so he doesn’t stain the baby blue fabric. It is quite the surprise, and you tell him so.

“Homemade Japchae sounds amazing right now, are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do to help?”

“No, Kicks, you already prepped the vegetables and now it’s just time for you to relax and enjoy. Look around if you want.” Seokjin sets aside the stir fried vegetables as he adds the protein option to the pan, seasoning and cooking it until browned. You decide to give yourself a small tour, not venturing too far or into any closed doors. The penthouse is modern, with a lot of black furniture, grey accent pieces, and white walls. The glass walls are two stories, spanning the height of the lofted area as well, situated above the kitchen. You take a few steps up the stairs until you can see through the clear banister into what appears to be Seokjin’s bedroom, before returning to your seat. You’re much more comfortable there than exploring dangerous areas alone.

The two of you continue to talk about your lives outside of work as he cooks; you share more about your family and where you lived before Seoul, and him about his fraternity days and hobbies. Once the glass noodles were cooked in the Japchae sauce, and the protein and vegetables re-added, you move to sit comfortably on his couch, eating as you watch a popular K Drama on his large flatscreen.

“I really enjoyed tonight, Jin.” You can’t describe in words how you feel, you just know you haven’t felt feelings like this towards Seokjin of this caliber before. Something has changed, but you don’t know whether it’s you or Seokjin, or both. He places his plate into the sink where you stand, washing dishes, then leans against the counter to watch you. “Since you did all of the heavy lifting, I’ll clean up.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. This is still a date.”

“Yes, but even in relationships, people go on dates and I’m sure that they still take turns with household chores and stuff.”

He hums in agreement, then disappears out of the kitchen. You finish washing, lay the dishes on the rack with the pans, and then turn around to make your way back to the living room. You find Seokjin lighting the last of the candles he’s placed around the room, a tray and two flutes of champagne on the low glass table near the dark colored couch.

“What’s all this?” you ask, voice low in astonishment and something else. The room is dim, but the candles provide enough light to see and the ambiance is much more romantic than anything you’ve previously shared with Seokjin.

You watch as Seokjin’s features flit through different emotions before answering you, and before you can question him more about it. “I, well a proper date should be more than just a home-cooked meal. I also have dessert for us, and wanted to celebrate a bit, too.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yes,” he pats the couch next to where he’s sat. “I saw the preliminary reports. I think we’re gonna clear it this fiscal year. All thanks to you.”

You cross the rest of the distance to sit next to him, still feeling timid in his home. You take the flute of bubbly gold with a shy smile, still not used to this treatment and praise.

“You worked hard too, Seokjin. We did it together.” Clinking your glasses together, the two of you down the Dom Perignon. As Seokjin sets down his glass, he reaches for one of the chocolate-covered strawberries set atop the tray.

“Try this, these are grown on my uncle's farm,” he shares, scooting closer to you on the couch so he can feed you the strawberry. You lean in, mouth watering at the aroma of the chocolate coating the fruit. With the first bite, an explosion of flavor erupts in your mouth, and you moan a little at how succulent it is. A trickle of the red juice rolls from the corner of your lip. Too busy savoring the flavor, Seokjin slowly swipes up your chin to gather the strawberry juice, bringing it to his lips to suck the flavor off.

You watch as his tongue pushes through the part in his lips, the tip rolling backwards across his bottom lip as he brings his teeth to bite the plump, pink skin. The look in his eyes matches the candle flames and you’re positive yours reflect the same. Placing your hand onto his shoulder, you guide him back onto the couch so he can sit properly as you swing your leg over his thighs. Planted on his lap, it’s nothing to lean in, your mouth seeking him in a slow kiss, wet sounds filling the quiet as you press yourself into him harder, hips grinding down onto the tent pressing into your core.

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses when your mouth moves to his neck, biting gently to avoid leaving marks in visible spots. His hands grasp your ass, pulling you into him with a rocking rhythm with more force. His lips search to bring yours back to his, hands pulling at your dress. Once his hands breach the hem, you feel the warmth of his skin on your thighs, fingertips trailing up to the waistband of your panties.

He pulls back from the kiss, forehead resting against yours as you both try and catch your breath. “Do you want this?” he asks, fingers tugging gently at the lace.

“Yes,” you breathe out, not waiting for more words as you kiss him again, raising your hips to allow him to pull your panties down your thighs. You raise each knee off the couch, helping him until your bare skin meets his slacks. His fingers dip to your center, and you’re pleased at the sound he makes when he feels just how wet you are. You stay up on your knees as he explores, the subtle teasing around your clit only heightening the feeling you crave.

When he presses two fingers into you, you keen, face pressing into his neck as his fingers scissor and glide, thumb pressing into your clit with each plunge. You rock your hips, seeking more friction and he gives in, using his palm as he sinks deeper inside of you, allowing you to take control of your pleasure.

“You feel so tight, but you’re so wet,” he marvels after a particularly hard shudder, and you sit back, knees weak as he pulls his fingers free.

“Want you to feel me properly,” you pout as his tongue licks up the side of his finger before he sucks them both into his mouth. You clench around nothing, the action making you want him more. You finger the buttons on your dress, popping each open in secession. It’s your turn to reach for the waistband of his pants, eyes on his as you seek his consent. “Do you want this?”

“More than you know, baby.” You smile to yourself as you focus on the button and zipper on his slacks until his hands join yours to grip the edge of both his briefs and pants until he has them past his knees, hardened cock bouncy as it awaits you to take your rightful seat upon it. You gasp as your eyes take in the size of it being bigger than you expected; it explains the cockiness he exhibits in his day to day.

Spitting into your hand, you grip his member, thumb trailing down the pearlescent stickiness from the head. He breathes out a huff, the steely silk growing more solid with each stroke.

“Don’t tease me, Kicks, I’ve waited a long time for this.”

Once again you rise onto your knees, inching closer to him with hands on his broad shoulders for balance. You can feel Seokjin lining up the head to your core, running it across your pussy several times to coat it with your essence. Dropping onto his thick length, he fills you to the point of stretching you out, toes curling from the press into your most sensitive parts. You don’t wait, enjoying the way that the stretch burns as it turns to pleasure, and you let loose in a way you haven’t before.

It’s frenetic, the way each of your hands travel along each other's bodies, lips seeking and sucking into each other's skin, opening clothing for more points of contact, to bring you closer to each other than you’ve ever been. It doesn’t take long, riding him as you are, for the coil to build and snap inside you, crying out as you throw your head back.

“That’s it, baby, let me feel you,” Seokjin coaches you through your climax, holding you as you shake in his arms. You mewl as he shifts, thighs lifting you both as he stands, cock still sheathed inside of you. He steps out of his discarded clothing and walks you to the stairs that lead to his loft. He’s impatient, pausing every few steps to press you into the wall and fuck himself up into you until he makes it to the landing of his bedroom.

Getting you to the bed, he places you on your back at the edge, hands trailing up along your legs until he grips your ankles. Bringing them together in front of him, he rests your calves onto his shoulder before slow-grinding himself into you, your swollen lips suctioning him deeper as they mold to fit around him.

“Jin, fuck, you feel so good,” your voice a high pitch as you squirm.

“Yeah, baby?” He’s breathless, hips picking up speed as you clench around him, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching show just how good he feels. He spreads your legs then, picking you up and placing you farther on the bed so he can join you, this time sans shirts.

With a grunt, he pushes deep as his hands reach around and skillfully unhooks your bra. He slows his hip rolls as his lips toy with a freed nipple, tongue laving until it’s pert and he moves to the other to give the same treatment. He takes a hand, trailing it down the center of your body. His thumb presses into your clit, and he speeds up, pleading, “Cum with me, you can give me another one.”

You give him what he wants, his voice raspy with restraint is the thing that topples you over the edge, and his restraint is let go moments later when you squeeze him impossibly tight. The deep sounds that he lets out are loud, curses mingled with your name, not your nickname, but your real name, tumble from his lips as he releases into you, short pumps of his cock until he’s empty. He collapses his weight onto you, but it’s comforting, not crushing. You feel his arms wrap around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him to cuddle your body into his chest.

“I’ll clean us up in a minute, wanna enjoy this feeling.”

Seokjin closes his eyes, but you agree with him, you don’t want to move just yet, because the pleasure coursing through your veins feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and not just because of the sex—you’ve done that a few times. It’s because of the man whose arms you're in, but his light snores let you know it's too late in the night to tell him.

You wake long before your alarm, but less sticky than when you fell asleep, Seokjin keeping to his word. You feel his arm strewn over your middle, so you turn and take in his slumber-filled face. His hair flops onto the pillow, lips puckered slightly as quiet breaths escape him. Smiling at how peaceful he looks, you don’t want to leave just yet, not when the bed is so warm, and even in his sleep he wants to keep you close, but you have no clothes for work. You silently climb out of his bed, going to the bathroom to freshen up before getting dressed. You call for a KakaoTaxi, and once it arrives, you kiss Seokjin on the forehead before leaving.

Once at home, you take the time to shower and get dressed for work, thinking about what you can do for the last date tonight. You know you want it to be special, because after the amazing night spent in Seokjin’s arms, him between your legs and splitting your walls…you’ve come to realize something significant. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin and you don’t want to stop being with him once tomorrow comes.

Deciding to take a leap of faith, you channel your grandma’s advice and decide that tonight at dinner, you will confess your feelings to him. You’re pretty sure that he feels the same way, based on his words and actions last night when you both showed each other a whole new side. You send a text to Seokjin saying he doesn’t need to pick you up, that you’re heading to work early and you’ll see him later.

He sends a quick reply of Be safe, beautiful. Can’t wait. Which is more than you expected from him so early in the morning but makes you feel giddy, solidifying your assumption of how he feels about you.

Once in your office, you utilize the extra time to search for a place to take Seokjin that’s worthy of hopefully becoming the place where you and he can become a ‘we’, but out of the limited places you contact, there’s no reservations available. You don’t have the sway to pull strings the way Seokjin could, but asking him or your coworkers for help would break one of the rules of your agreement.

The sun shifts across your office, giving way to midday as you work with good old-fashioned paper, pen, and highlighters, but you haven’t seen him or his broad shoulders that you’re sure you left some marks on last night. Rolling your computer chair back from the desk, you lean back precariously as you take a much-needed deep stretch and vacate your seat. It’s a quick trip from the 48th to the 50th floor; you figure if Seokjin isn’t in his office near yours, he must be working in his C-Suite office upstairs. Unfortunately, when you peek your head into the room, the vast dark-oak desk is empty, his large Samsung monitor turned off when you venture farther in.

With a sigh, you leave the office, nearly walking headfirst into Kim Namjoon.

“Looking for Jin-hyung?” his low baritone questions. “He's at a meeting with his dad to discuss some financial stuff, he’s been emailing me all day asking to be rescued.”

“Oh, I wonder if he emailed me too. I’ve been reviewing printed reports all morning.”

“I made the mistake of answering him thinking he needed work-related info—nope! He just wanted to tell me about how he’s been craving the truffle pasta at Flavors.”

You laugh at this, unable to hold back the smile as you imagine how bored Seokjin must be to be emailing about food. You thank Namjoon and head back to your office, an idea of where to go now planted in your mind.

Everything is falling into place for tonight, and you send Seokjin an email before you leave at 5 PM, detailing the plan for your reservation at Flavors tonight at 7 PM. His response is full of excitement, shocked that you read his mind about his craving (thank you, Namjoon!), and that he’ll meet you there and you better not be late.

Closing down your computer for the long holiday weekend per IT’s email, you gather your belongings and head home to get ready.

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Seokjin tries to hide his grin from his father.

“What are you smiling about?”

Seokjin takes a breath to keep from rolling his eyes and relaxes his face into a look of innocence. “Nothing,” he shrugs, mentally doing the math as he clambers into the car his father has chauffeuring them around. “Are we headed back to the office now? I have a few things I need to do tonight for Namjoon’s party tomorrow.” And a hot date waiting for me, he thinks.

“Not just yet, actually. I have one last meeting for us at Paradise City.”

Seokjin groans. “Father, it’s a holiday weekend, there’s nothing more we need to do today that we can’t do after Christmas weekend.”

“It won’t be long, Seokjin, we’re around the corner already. I swear your work ethic is piss-poor, sometimes I regret naming you my successor.”

It might not be a long trip from the hotel they just finished meeting at to Paradise City, but they were already over an hour away from where he should be meeting you in less than two. Irritated, Seokjin quietly tries to do the math for how long this meeting can be before he has to be on his way to you, but knowing his father, he worries about making it to you on time.

As the car pulls to the front of the main entrance, Seokjin decides to message you, just a warning that he will be late due to his father’s overbearing and controlling tendencies. He exits the car first, standing to the side to type a quick message as his father follows him onto the pavement.

“Put your phone away.”

When Seokjin ignores his demand, his father snatches his phone from his hands, pocketing the small device.

“Really, Father, you are being insufferable right now.”

“And you, son, are being rude.” Seokjin’s dad leaves him to head into the bustling hotel and casino, and with his phone held hostage, he has no choice but to follow him inside.

Once seated next to the thief at a four-top, Seokjin begs for his phone, but his father ignores him as he smiles at someone behind Seokjin’s head.

“Lee Jaeyong-ssi!”

“Kim Namjung-ssi!” The man bows to the elder Kim before sitting in the seat next to Seokjin. Seokjin gapes in horror at his dad as he realizes what his father has roped him into when the 19-year-old daughter of the country’s largest GDP contributor walks around the table to sit across from Seokjin.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

You’re prompt, body electrified as you give your name for the reservation and are led to a quaint, black-marbled table. The only downfall to the seating arrangement of the restaurant is that larger group tables line the walls with comfortable grey booth seating, while the tables for couples fill the middle walkway. Smoothing the little black dress with baby doll straps, you sit in the chair pulled out for you.

You take in the romantically lit room as the Maître d' pours you a glass of red wine, leaving the expensive bottle in a wine chiller on a small stand next to the table. Checking your phone, there’s no reply message from Seokjin of his estimated arrival time, but you don’t worry too much, thinking he’s probably parking his car or nearby enough. It’s only minutes past the hour, so you shirk off the cropped, fur-lined jacket from your shoulders and drape it over the back of your chair.

It’s fitting that the table is in the middle of the room, out in the open as if a reflection of where you want to take this relationship with Seokjin. You think you’re finally ready to admit to him what you realized last night and this morning.

7:17 PM. The Maître d' returns to ask if you would like to order. You tell him that you are still waiting for the other person to arrive, and give a little white lie that he’s just running late.

“What is the name of the other half of your party? I will make sure to bring him promptly when he arrives.”

“Oh, it’s Kim Seokjin,” you reply shyly. His eyes widen minutely at your unintentional name drop, and that coupled with murmurs from the guests seated nearby, leaves you feeling a heat rising up your neck. He excuses himself, saying he will be back to check on you once your date arrives.

7:47 PM. The looks of pity start to trickle into your view as you turn your head to look towards the door for the millionth time. The Maître d' has walked past to escort other patrons to tables, but he avoids coming over to you—you guess it’s because he doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that you’re still alone, and he said he would be back only once Seokjin arrived. You appreciate his tactfulness, but you worry as you check your phone again for a message.

8:17 PM. Your phone is held to your face, dial tone ringing in your ear but you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve called him. All of your text messages have gone unread, and inside you simmer with feelings of shame and embarrassment. Your phone (along with others in the vicinity) chimed with a notification from the WeVerse App, reporting a major headline.

JinHit CFO Kim Seokjin Spotted with 19-year-old Samsung Heiress—And Their Fathers!

And in smaller font underneath: Marriage meeting? Should we expect wedding bells and a massive business union? The read more teases photos catching the quartet out at Paradise City.

A fool, you think, realizing Seokjin must’ve never planned to come. Paradise City is almost an hour and half by car at this time of night. I am a fool for even entertaining the thought of giving my heart to this man!

Standing from the chair, you don’t bother hiding your emotions on your face as you grab your jacket and toss the cloth napkin onto the table before fleeing to the front to hail a taxi, waiting in the cold as unique snowflakes begin to fall from the sky with fluttery movements, before melting away a few moments after making contact with earthly items.

📈📈📈📈📈

At home, you sit on the edge of your couch unclasping the delicate buckle on your Manolo Blahniks. Tonight’s fucked with your mind more than Seokjin has the entire time this deal was in place. What started as a way to win—a way to prove you were smarter than Seokjin, better at mitigating for the company, gain a pair of expensive shoes—is turning into a stock market crash of the worst proportions.

Your grandma’s words float through your head and in this moment, you’re hit with a sudden clarity that this was never about a pair of expensive shoes. It was about letting yourself take a chance to live a little and be happy for once—hopeful that happiness with another person was within your reach—the heel you clutch in your hand, having slipped it off of your foot, sails through the air, hitting the off-white wall of your apartment.

You wake, puffy-eyed and unexcited, thinking about how things will be weird tonight for the party at Namjoon’s place, because not only have you slept with Jin, he’s also shattered your heart into a million pieces. It’s not the first time the thought crosses your mind that he might have known he was going to be set up with a child (no offense to 19-year-olds, the age gap is ridiculous no matter how rich your daddy is) and chose to spend his last weeks of freedom stringing you along, choosing to finally sleep with you right before he was off the market.

You fell asleep easily, but your phone ringing repeatedly woke you up close to midnight. The screen was blinding, but you could see who was calling you and you decidedly ignored the call, silencing your phone. You were then unable to return to sleep until hints of sunlight peeked through the curtains, and the consequences of that are now reflecting in your mirror.

This is just Jin being Jin, your mind says, when has he ever been serious about anything? He’s just flirty, and wanted to get his rocks off before robbing the cradle in sickness or in health. This is nothing new and he was just having fun with you. Going through the motions of your skincare routine, the feelings of disappointment and hurt are there, lingering in your chest with each breath, but you’ve decided to be tough. Your brain doing what it does best, trying to rationalize everything that isn’t a fact, blaming the way your emotions temporarily made you dumb.

‘I should’ve known’ repeats like a mantra in your head no matter how you try to drown it out with music from your phone. You’ve always had an uncanny ability to be hopeful when you know you shouldn’t, because good things like this never work out. You just forgot that little fact, but last night is the perfect reminder.

The thoughts settling in help as you go through the motions: toner onto a cotton pad wiped along your face, moisturizer gently massaged into your skin. Once you’ve finished with your makeup, it’s as if you move on autopilot, your fingers deft as they put the final touches wrapping the gift for Seokjin you finalized after work yesterday. Your logical brain reminds you that this party is nothing more than coworkers hanging out, a chance to put the bet—and your fake relationship—to rest, and making sure to bring a gift like the invite said is your way to show Seokjin that he didn’t get to you. He might win the bet, he might’ve had you wallowing last night, but he won’t continue to win power over your emotions.

You reread the last message he sent before sending him a text as you slip into the persona needed to survive tonight.

Jin (2:04 AM) - Please, baby, just…let me know you’re okay. I can explain everything. You (1:14 PM) - I’m getting ready to go to the party, what time will you be here?

Your phone lights up as an incoming call flashes across your screen, but you ignore it, letting your ringtone play until he hangs up.

Jin (1:15 PM) - Can I come now? You (1:20 PM) - I’m not ready yet and have some things to do beforehand, so if you can just let me know what time to expect you, I can make sure I’m ready when you get here.

You set your phone down, watching the bubbles pop up and disappear, indicating that he’s typing, but it still takes him ten minutes to send five words.

Jin (1:30 PM) - I’ll be there at 7:30.

📈📈📈📈📈

The drive to Namjoon’s party goes well for you, if you say so yourself. Not ready to deal with being alone with Seokjin, you make sure to call one of your friends from back home, spending the entire trip with your phone glued to your ear, rudely ignoring Seokjin’s attempts to talk to you until he gives up.

Walking into Namjoon’s place, the distinct smell of a fresh Christmas Tree wafts into your senses as his fiance greets you at the door. She’s all cute and small with a pretty smile as she bounces through the home to lead you and Seokjin to the living room. You greet the others who have already arrived, Yoongi and his girlfriend Leah, and Hoseok and his fiance, YuRim. A table near the Christmas Tree holds the gifts, so you walk over to deposit your gift bag, Seokjin following with a bag of his own to set down.

The layout of the room is an open concept, and Namjoon stands in the kitchen with oven mitts on. It’s a little strange to see your boss in such a state, matching fleece Christmas onesies with Khaity, oven mitts covering his hands, and a stressed look on his face as he stares at the small timer on the counter.

“Oh, honey, let me take the cookies out, okay? Come sit down with our guests.” Khaity rises onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek as she slips the mitts off his hands before gently nudging him towards the sitting area.

Another knock rings out, and soon Namjoon leads Jungkook in with NaBi. You aren’t sure whether she came with Jungkook or arrived at the same time and was invited by Namjoon, seeing as she is his secretary, but the way they smile at each other softens the wall that you built up against love. Even if you and Seokjin were a failed attempt, you hope that those two blind co-workers might figure it out.

The macadamia nut cookies are first out of the oven, Khaity plating and placing them on the table between the couches where everyone is gathered. The last to arrive, Taehyung with Hana and Jimin, trickle in a few minutes later complaining that the cookies were all gone.

“We have chocolate chip ones coming out next, you can have first dibs, okay?” Namjoon appeases before his face turns into confusion. “Wait, where’s your plus one?”

“I ended things with Ji-Soo.”

Everyone shows various levels of shock, and despite avoiding him since arriving, you can’t help but to meet Seokjin’s eye with a raised brow.

“Really? Why?” NaBi asks, truly invested in their drama.

“She’s just…a little brainless. Nice tits, but let’s be honest, we live in the plastic surgery capital of the world.”

“Well, I guess we know who gets to wear the ‘Ho, Ho, Ho’ santa hat tonight,” Leah jokes, tossing the furry red cap to Jimin.

“Gladly! But I had to block her number, she’s been blowing up my phone the past few days, and it’s gotten to be too much.”

“Probably for the best, right? You start your last semester next month,” Taehyung reminds his best friend.

“We’ll see, I might need to find a hot tutor in the class, maybe I can convince her to do my homework.”

“Do your homework, or do you?” Jungkook asks deadpan, and everyone laughs, the room full of mirth and holiday cheer.

“Why not both?” you second, sending the room into another round of giggles, and despite the awkwardness with Seokjin, you feel yourself relax into the persona you’ve adjusted into place to get through the night. You can do this, you remind yourself.

And you do a great job meshing with the group, hanging out with your coworkers and helping Khaity in the kitchen with some finger foods and more cookies to avoid Seokjin until the inevitable moment arrives. Gift exchange.

“All right, I’m going to get more wine in the kitchen,” Jimin stands, stretching his arms high as he steps over the others to escape the lovey dovey atmosphere as the couples exchange gifts.

Seokjin calls to him to wait, and everyone watches as he grabs the gift bag off of the table. Holding one of the dainty handles, his free hand reaches in and reveals a decent sized wine bottle in his grasp. “Can you take this with you? I got it as a contribution to the party.”

Jimin busies himself across the room with an open bottle of wine and his glass and you wish you could join him instead of engaging in the most awkward event since everything imploded last night. You pass the gift over to Seokjin who takes it with a little bit of shock, as if he’s just realized what type of party he came to and what he was supposed to do—and how he just fucked up.

Leah opens her gift first, a lavender velvet box containing a necklace. A small slip of paper flutters out, and she reads it before sharing the information. “A 100% pure sterling silver necklace with amethyst stones spelling a morse code message.”

“What’s the message?” Hana asks, leaning to look at the glittering stones.

“Badass Bitch.”

Taehyung laughs the loudest, almost choking on the chocolate chip cookie he was chewing.

“So, Seokjin, wanna tell us about the latest WeVerse gossip?” NaBi teases from the floor where she sits cross legged, cheeky grin as she rocks side to side next to Jungkook. Her hands fidget with the small charm on the bracelet Jungkook gifted her that you’re too far away to see clearly.

“Oh fuck, what a nightmare. My father basically kidnapped me. Took my phone and everything so I couldn’t contact anyone and let them know I was effectively unable to leave or even signal for help.”

“You wanted to be rescued? I thought dudes liked young, hot, rich heiresses. Your own Paris Hilton,” YuMi asks, and you can see her question holds a little…bite to it. You instantly like her.

“Hell yeah, I did not want to be there. I actually had plans that I was really excited for, but my father…he kind of ruined my night.”

“But the hot chick made it better, right? You’re gonna marry into the richest company, right?” Jimin shouts from the kitchen, cheeks ruddy from the wine. You, on the other hand, are over the topic of conversation. Moving towards the kitchen, you decide to follow Jimin’s lead and drown your sorrows.

“No way, she’s like eleven years younger than me. She’s barely old enough to drink, just finished Secondary, and we have nothing in common. Besides, I’m not attracted to her.” You can feel Seokjin’s eyes piercing into your skull, but you refuse to give him what he wants.

Namjoon’s gift from Khaity interrupts Seokjin’s next words, as he drops the small box holding an egg vibrator and turns red as everyone begins to laugh at his reaction. Except for you. Your eyes finally look at Seokjin, challenging him to finish his thoughts from earlier as the group settles back into silence as the last few finish opening their gifts. Yoongi finally frees his gift from the box Leah wrapped it in; he holds up a black leather Valentino backpack to show everyone.

“I…actually—I’m dating someone else.”

The group instantly grows loud again, voices trying to speak over one another as various tones of disbelief, shock, and animosity filter through their accusations.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because, I wanted to make sure it didn’t interfere with work first, I didn’t need HR getting involved with my love life.”

“Oh?” Namjoon focuses on this tidbit of information, ears perked for more. “Do I need to worry? It’s not Ji-Soo, right?”

You sputter into your wine, but luckily the males in the living room are cackling at the accusation.

“NO! I draw the line at sloppy thirds, thank you very much.” You try to slink away, the balcony looking like a great hiding spot when Seokjin says your name and everyone turns to you. “I brought my girlfriend and wanted to tell you all tonight.”

The group goes crazy once again at this turn of events, with Leah being the voice of reason once everyone settles. “Seokjin, I promise you, we never would have guessed…you didn’t even trade gifts with her, so color me a little shocked!”

You know Leah means to call Seokjin out and make him feel shitty, but the reminder also makes you feel a little despondent. Even if Seokjin had no intentions of marrying that girl, his current actions speak volumes. He couldn’t even be bothered to get you a gift; Kim Seokjin was not actually interested in you.

As the group continues to pester Seokjin about how everything played out last night since he’s dating you, you take advantage of their deviated attention and head for the balcony to escape for some fresh air. You don’t really pay attention to the group behind you, but you can see shadowy movements as people get up and begin to filter out for the evening, a few of the girls coming to the balcony door to wish you a happy holiday break, their muffled voices saying jolly goodbyes.

You struggle to return their holiday spirit, and how can you, when you think about how while you’ve lost the real bet, you won the experience of having Seokjin as your boyfriend. This time with him has been…better than you ever expected. Living life with a little more color, risk, and fun, but now that the bet is over, you not only lost the shoes, but you’ve lost the taste of a different life, a fun life, with Seokjin by your side. Especially if his father demands that he marry that…child.

The sound of the glass door sliding open is quiet, but you hear it despite not turning to look. You can tell from the spicy scent of bourbon & vanilla that it’s Seokjin.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks by way of greeting, and from the corner of your eye you see him fidgeting with a wrapped box.

“I’m used to it.”

He hums, and you sense he wants to say more. A few moments later you are proved right.

“Thank you, for the gift. It, uh…means a lot, coming from you.”

“No problem.”

He huffs, and you can’t tell if he’s annoyed at your responses or if he’s annoyed at himself.

“Look. I’m sorry.” Seokjin’s voice is sincere, and you cave for a moment, meeting his toffee eyes. “I know that I royally fucked up last night, but I meant what I said earlier. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with you. I tried to text you, but my father—he’s a dick, you know?” His following laugh is empty of humor. “I hope that you’ll forgive me, Kicks. Holiday spirit and all, if you feel the same way that I feel…fuck—I don’t even know what to say.”

Seokjin hands the box he’s holding to you, stepping closer. “I know according to our friends, I won, but last night…it definitely violated the rules. So while I most likely would’ve won…I know in my heart I didn’t…but I think you had fun with me these two weeks, right? It…doesn’t have to end here, you know? I think the one thing I really want to win…is you.”

His gaze is too intense, too scary and full of the hope you stuffed way down, so you focus on the gift in your hands. Pulling at the open edge of the wrapping paper, you unravel the gift wrap to reveal a marbled cream box with gold letters across the top. Your breath grows shaky as cynicism sneaks into your chest, only to be replaced with astonishment. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment lay in the box, sparkling in the light filtering through the balcony windows.

“Jin,” you try to speak, but all you can say is his name.

“You deserve these, and not just because I lost on a technicality. You deserve these because you are just as magical as these fucking shoes are. You challenge me, push me to be better, and help me along the way. You believe in me more than my own father. You just,” he sighs your name softly, taking the shoes from your grasp and setting them on the outdoor table so he can hold your hands, “you see me. All of me. And if I remember correctly, you weren’t opposed to what you saw, might have even liked it.”

His light teasing, alluding to that night, has your body warming despite the December chill.

“Do you mean it?” You hate that you have to ask, but you need to know it’s real. Not just you reading into something because of false hope clouding your judgment.

“God, you are so brilliant and yet, so dense.”

Seokjin closes the remaining space between your mouths, plush lips firm as they show you how much he meant every word.

“I want to be with you. No bets, no rules, no strings. Just you.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

The drive back to Seokjin’s place is fast; neither of you can keep your hands off of each other and he refuses to slow at yellow lights in fear that he’ll combust if he doesn’t get you naked…

The moment he has you standing in his lofted bedroom, he pauses just to take you in. Seokjin swears he never thought he could get so lucky—he always thought his fate would be similar to Hoseok’s arranged marriage, though that turned out well in the end. But someone like you? He never saw it coming.

Shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders, he lets it fall quietly to the floor, stepping closer to you. His hands feel way too hot when he places them to your cheeks, but if he’s supposed to die from a burning desire, well fuck, he guesses there isn’t a better way to go. He’s falling hard for you, and as he ducks his head to meet your lips, he lets his hands move to undress you.

Seokjin doesn’t understand how you can be so soft, so warm, so inviting; everything about you envelops him until he’s consumed by you. Leaving you only in your underwear, he uses his hands to cup behind your thighs and lift you, carrying you to the bed.

“You look like an angel.”

Seokjin’s sheets are black, and with your white matching bra and panty set stark against the sheets, he’s in awe of you. He wants to savor you. He wants to defile you. Slowly, so slowly that you whine at him, he trails his lips along your clavicle, fingers lightly brushing your exposed sides. He pauses every so often to lave at your skin, supple beneath his tongue, before his dexterous fingers slide the straps to your bra down each arm. A quick tug frees your breasts, and his kisses continue to taunt and tease, circling but never reaching the pebbled nipple despite the arch to your back.

“Please Jin,” you beg, fingers fisting into his hair. He just chuckles at your neediness, your pleading words only adding to the pressure tenting in his pants. Trailing kisses lower down your stomach, his tongue traces the edge of your panties until he bites at the edge, making you squirm from his teeth.

He loves that he gets to have you like this; wants you like this always, pliant and happy beneath him. Settling himself lower, his chest between your thighs, Seokjin begins to mouth at your covered core, tongue searching for the slit between your lips where your clit waits, probably throbbing for him.

The sounds you make are pornographic, egging him on more. Wrapping his arms under your thighs, he curls his bicep so that his fingers can reach the edge of your panties. Pulling them aside, he pours his energy into leaving the sloppiest kisses around your clit and lips, strong arms not allowing you any room to pull away from the pleasure he’s delivering. Not that you’re trying to; your hands have a tight grip on his hair so you can roll your hips for maximum pleasure.

Tonguing at your leaking core, he flicks along your opening, reaching inside you before alternating to flick your clit. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, the pressure building as you cry out for more. Like a siren's call, he can’t deny you, so he surrenders two fingers to your pulsing walls, plunging them inside rapidly as you pant, moans slipping from your lips until you cry out his name.

He laps at you lazily as you ride your high, and when you pull back from over-stimulation, he pulls himself up along your body, flopping down to lay next to you where he can gaze upon you. You, his beautiful…girlfriend? Did you establish that? He ponders it for a minute until you call his attention.

“Fuck, Jin…You’re a demon.”

“I’m your demon,” he responds, looking for an opening to broach the thoughts on his mind.

“Only mine, right?”

He can hear the way your voice trembles as you ask, and he wants to kiss away any lingering doubts in your mind.

“Only yours. You’re my girlfriend, exclusively. If I’m honest, you have been since you agreed to my bet. It was only ever you.”

“Good,” you say, and he jumps when your hand rests atop his aching cock only two layers between your skin and his.

You eye his zipper before looking back at him, eyes low and simmering with heated desire. “Can I?”

Seokjin moves quickly to shed his remaining clothing, eager to have you in a way he’s only dreamt about. You laugh at his silliness, and while he was exaggerating a little to make you laugh, part of him really feels this way. Heart-racing and giddy, because of you.

You kneel onto the carpeted ground between his legs, waiting for him to lower himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He leaves his feet planted on the floor as he strokes himself, weeping with pre-cum that aids him in sliding his palm across his silky skin.

You trade out his hand for your own, delicate touches to show how much you cherish him before you take him fully into your mouth. He can’t look away, leaning back on one hand while the other strokes your head lightly, eyes on your face as your lips work up and down his shaft, tongue tickling his frenulum. Seokjin shivers with each pass. Your mouth is so warm, wet and dripping each time you choke a little on his cock, and your eyes look so pretty lined with unshed tears.

Fuck, Seokjin thinks he could fall in love with you fast, if you continue to look at him like that, with eyes wide as you deep throat his cock until your nose is tickled by the hair of his happy trail. Moaning as your throat convulses around his throbbing tip, light swallows squeezing the head. He almost says it when you pull off of him with a pop, just to take him deep again and add your hand to cup his balls as your dripping spit coats them to make for an easy slide through your fingers as you roll them in your palm.

Seokjin knows his own sounds are not very manly but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know how good you make him feel, and his breathy groans are a little higher than his normal talking voice but if anything when he lets out a sound it seems to invigorate you more and—shit—“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby—” spills from his mouth and instead of popping off him and letting him cover your beautiful tits, you hold yourself closer to him until Seokjin’s sighing out your name as he falls back onto the bed, his eyes screwed shut as fireworks shoot through his veins.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

Returning to work after a week off is always tough; having to adjust your alarms to wake up on time, no more lazing away in bed watching Netflix or reading a new Best Seller you were gifted. No breakfast in bed after being Seokjin’s breakfast in bed—no time when you’ve overslept your alarm after a late night on Facetime with your boyfriend.

Seokjin’s out at his family’s vacation home, has been just for the weekend, where he told his parents about you and successfully avoided the marriage plans his dad attempted to trap him in. Once he gets back, there’s plans to have dinner with them—apparently his mom is excited to meet you.

Seokjin’s entrusted his car to you while he’s been gone, saying it’s because the oil and gas shouldn’t sit and build gunk in the engine, but you have a feeling it’s because he thinks it’s sexy when you drive. And you love how the car smells like him, like bergamot and spicy vanilla—a warm hug until he returns to you.

Parking in his designated spot, you enjoy the perks of dating the CFO as you ride the elevator straight from the parking garage to your floor. It’s easy to settle back into your work routine, checking emails and reviewing reports until NaBi pops in on her way to grab food, reminding you of the time.

“Overworking already? I thought dating the CFO meant you could relax a little.”

You laugh at NaBi’s teasing, shoulder bumping her lightly. She presses the call button for the elevator to go down to the cafe. “I can relax a little. I just miss him, so it’s easier to focus on work until he gets—Ahhhhh!” You’re happily surprised when you see a slightly tanned Seokjin appear when the elevator doors open. The other workers hanging around the Property Acquisition cubicles startle and look over, but you don’t care.

You greet him excitedly, kissing him right there for everyone to see. Openly showing him affection, where before you would have shied away, you can feel Seokjin is receptive to this as he pulls you in closer.

“I got us lunch,” he says between quick pecks before releasing you, and you realize he’s holding a tied plastic bag with styrofoam food trays.

“Sorry, NaBi!”

She eyes you as if to say, ‘bitch, you lying’, but her smile shows she’s not mad at you. You have a feeling this is the perfect excuse for her to have lunch with a certain IT coworker…

Following Seokjin to his office, you hold his free hand with both of yours. “I missed you,” you muse, and he chuckles at the sappy look you give him.

“I was only gone for the weekend,” he says with a wink as he leads you to his massive desk, “but I missed you too, so I thought I would surprise you with lunch. I’m glad I did, I get to see this version of you that I’ve always known was there.”

His words have you furrowing your brow, tilting your head in question.

“You know, my girlfriend, who I’m able to be goofy with, but who still maintains the same work ethic and drive that I love, just with heart eyes only for me.”

“Ew, why are you being so cheesy?” His words make your heart flutter, so of course you have to wrinkle your nose at how soft he’s making you feel.

“Because, you know, I kind of like you. A lot.”

Seokjin gestures to the corner of his desk, and you notice that the photo frame you purchased him for Christmas sits there, ‘World’s Best Boss’ engraved in gold with a purple frame surrounding a picture of the two of you taken on the candlelit dinner cruise. The card, where you poured out some of your most heartfelt thoughts about Seokjin and how much you believe in him, lay open under the clear, protective placemat on his desk along with the photos of his fraternity days, his mom, and other notes from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi.

You feel an overwhelming emotion fill your chest, so you lean in and kiss him, unable to contain it.

“I like you a lot too, but honestly, you’re lucky to have me. Your lover, your friend, your partner in crime…in sexy ass heels.”

Seokjin laughs with his whole chest as he sees you’ve got on the shoes he gifted you, and you thank your lucky stars for whatever brought the man in front of you into your life to help you avoid the red.

202 notes · View notes

ugh-yoongi · 1 year

Text

riding fakie | ksj

(or, the one where you think you’re getting a fake boyfriend, but you end up with a whole lot more.)

→ pairing: seokjin x f. reader → genre(s): enemies to lovers (lite), fake dating | humor, fluff, angst → rating: mature → warnings: based entirely on this edit i saw ages ago so good luck, swearing, reader is a trust fund kid with awful parents so classism and screwy family dynamics, a very brief but referenced two-night-stand with taehyung who has a foot fetish (canon) and is ultimately plot irrelevant, this is lite enemies to lovers so sometimes they are not very nice to each other, kissing. i think that’s it? this is mostly tame, all things considered, but i will revise if needed. → word count: 14.2k → written for: the catch of the century collab. thank you to @raplinesmoon / @joheunsaram / & @kithtaehyung for hosting and allowing me to participate! ♡ → thank yous: my holy trinity for keeping me inspired and accountable and letting me know when i don’t word good. @the-boy-meets-evil / @hot-soop / @effortandmore. also my husband who actually skateboards and helped me to sound knowledgeable but will also never, ever see this. → a/n: [looking a whole lot like the dehydrated spongebob meme] hey, long time no see. this fic absolutely kicked my ass like nothing has ever kicked my ass before, but it’s finally done and here. i don’t think i’m super happy with how it turned out and i think it’s probably rushed, but i hope you all enjoy it regardless! now, if you need me i will be sobbing on the floor holding a locket with seokjin’s picture inside.

[THE THREAT]

The thing about privilege is—

Well, nothing. It’s just there, propped up in the corner, looming over every aspect of your life. And usually it’s fine. You want for nothing. People just hand things to you. But, just like the apple tree and Isaac Newton and the Law of Gravity—everything that goes up must come down. Nothing gold can stay. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. You might have your name and your money and your status, but you also have your parents and your brother.

Your brother, who has somehow found someone to marry him and is planning a wedding.

Your parents, who are threatening to revoke your trust fund if you don’t attend. And bring a date.

“I don’t want to hear it,” your mother says, preemptively cutting off your protests. She’s always had a knack for dictatorship, and another one for doing so as she barks orders to the hired help in the background. “This wedding is very important for us as a family. Do you know how bad it’d look if you not only didn’t show up, but showed up alone? It won’t do.”

On your end of the line, sitting at some bougie outdoor café with an overpriced latte in hand, you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t it look worse to cut off your only daughter and leave her destitute? God forbid, what if I have to get a job?”

An aggravated click of her tongue. “I don’t know where you got that smart mouth of yours, but it’s unbecoming. I’ve at least managed to talk your brother’s fiancee out of including you in the bridal party, so you could show a bit of gratitude instead of being a brat.”

(Impossible, you think. Your brother had taken all the suck-up genes and left nothing for you. Alternatively, you’d taken all the backbone, so it’s almost even.)

“Why don’t you ask the youngest Jeon boy? They’re coming anyway, and it would look good for your father if the two of you were seen together.”

You grimace. “Jeongguk? Absolutely not.”

Another click. “Fine, but don’t you dare even think about showing up with some—”

“Piece of shit loser,” you finish for her. Usually she’d scold you for swearing, but it’s apparently allowed in the name of shitting on the middle-class. “Yes, Mother, I get it. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare sully our good family name by associating with the poor.”

She doesn’t trust you, you can tell by the way she huffs and starts mumbling under her breath, but it’s clear she’s just as done with this conversation as you. “You have three months to figure it out.”

Privilege can go to hell.

[THE SEARCH]

Park Jimin is a lot of things.

He’s got money. He’s got hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers for no reason other than he’s hot. He’s got a closet full of in-season designer clothes, so he’d look stunning hanging off your arm in a tailored suit. He’s got charisma and charm and that innate ability to talk to anyone about all that boring shit you can’t stand.

Most importantly, he’s got a chip on his shoulder, too. He’s on your level.

Park Jimin is telling you no. “Sorry, I’ll be out of the country that weekend,” he says. He doesn’t look sorry. “One of those things I can’t skip. You know how it is.”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re full of shit.”

Park Jimin’s got a laugh that rings like Tiffany crystal. “Maybe.”

Still, you’re not above begging. The list of acceptable arm candy candidates (which you’ve taken to calling The Armcandidates, because you also got all the humor genes) is rapidly dwindling, and although Jimin’s not bottom of the barrel, he’s close. “Jimin, please. Whatever you want, I just need this one favor.”

“Don’t barter with things you’re not willing to give up,” he chides, nothing but heat. Would you fuck Jimin to keep your trust fund? Pillowy lips, slutty little waist, thighs that could crush your head like a grape—you could definitely do worse, all things considered.

“Who says I’m not?”

Jimin would come dead last in a poker tournament, the way surprise flashes across his face. “Well, in that case, I’m actually sorry I’ll be out of the country that weekend.”

You groan, head dropping onto your folded arms. “Can’t believe I outed myself like that and you’re still turning me down.”

Laughter trails behind him as he disappears into his massive closet. “Have you asked Taehyungie? He loves weddings.”

“The last time I talked to Kim Taehyung, he jerked off on my feet and cried. I don’t think I could look him in the eye, let alone invite him to my brother’s wedding.”

Jimin snorts. “He’s actually quite lovely once you get past the foot stuff. Think about it.”

Regretfully, not only do you think about asking Taehyung, you actually go through with it.

One day you’re talking to Jimin and the next thing you know, you’re once again on your back in Kim Taehyung’s bed. No weird feet shit this time, you’d told him, and, well, here you are. Skin tacky from sweat, entire room stinking of sex. Kim Taehyung is weird as hell but he’s unreasonably hot, and you’d made it all of ten minutes in his presence before folding.

(The last time it’d been five, so you’re making progress. Surely that’s something to be proud of.)

“I actually came here for a reason,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. Beside you, Taehyung hums an acknowledgement. You try not to wonder if he’s staring at your toes and that’s why he’s breathing so hard. “I need to bring a date to my brother’s wedding or my parents are gonna cut me off.”

He whistles. “Damn, that’s cold. Fully?”

“That’s what they say.”

“And you’ve decided to ask me? I’m honored, angel.”

“I asked Jimin first, to be fair.”

Taehyung’s face falls comically. “I’m no longer honored,” he jokes. “Jiminie’s great at weddings. He said no?”

You shrug. Something about his rejection still stings. You’re trying not to take it personally. Or think about it too much. “Said he’s going to be out of the country that weekend. Told me to ask you because you quote-unquote ‘love weddings’.”

“He said that?” Taehyung asks, voice pitched higher, dopey look overtaking his features. “Wow, we’re so in sync.” Wistful, like he’s lovesick. “We really must be soulmates.”

You choke. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no. Is the wedding the weekend he’s going to Milan?”

That ‘no’ seems to be carrying a lot of weight. You eye him suspiciously. “Apparently.”

“Ah, I’ll be in Paris. I asked him to come with me and he told me no, too. Guess you know how it feels.”

You sit up, sheets clutched to your chest. “Seriously, what’s going on with you two?”

Taehyung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “How much time do you have?”

You roll your eyes. “About three minutes.”

“Next time, then. Sorry I can’t help with the wedding. You’ll find someone, though.”

Another day, another rejection. You tell Taehyung not to look at your feet as you get dressed to leave.

Jung Hoseok isn’t generationally wealthy, but he’s got enough money to be deemed respectable in the eyes of your parents.

He’s also got a 24 karat smile and a meticulously highlighted and underlined study guide for your upcoming exam, so he’s currently ranked number one on your Armcandidates list.

“Hobi, have I ever told you you’re my favorite person?”

He eyes you over the lid of his coffee cup. “A few times, yeah.”

“Jung Hoseok,” you singsong, “actual sunshine, number one human, best thing since sliced bre—”

“If you finish that sentence with some fire of my loins Lolita bullshit I’m leaving.”

You pout. “I need a favor.”

He tosses the study guide in your direction. “Just take it. I have another copy in my bag.”

“Not that,” you say, but you take it anyway. Hoseok’s study guides are a thing of legend: even if you don’t use it, you’ll be able to sell it to some idiot underclassman for a week’s worth of coffee. The bougie kind with whipped cream on top. “I need a date for my brother’s wedding.”

Now it’s his turn to choke. “And you’re asking me?”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with asking you?”

He shrugs, suddenly antsy, like he’s too big for his skin. “I don’t know. Don’t you have, like, actual prospects? Every dude in our cohort wants to date you.”

“Because I’m hot and I have a shitload of money,” you retort, and Hoseok makes a face that says yeah, fair. “I’d rather be tarred and feathered than ask any of them. We’re friends, and I trust you. Additionally, your family’s rich enough to get my parents off my back and we’d look good together.”

“Ah, yes, that last point is very important.”

You scoff. “Of course it is, it’s my brother’s wedding. Do you know how many pictures I’m gonna be forced to take? Hundreds. Possibly thousands.”

“Sounds terrible.”

“It will be, which is why I need a brother-in-arms. A confidante. A comrade.”

“Have you asked Jimin? He’s great at weddings.”

You nearly start shrieking. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“...Is that a yes?”

“Of course I asked Jimin. I asked Taehyung, too. They’re both going to be out of the country and are probably fucking, and that’s not particularly something I want to get in the middle of.” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “It could be serious,” you argue. “Like, Actual Feelings kind of stuff, and that shit gets messy.”

“Yeah, fair,” Hoseok concedes, out loud this time. “Plus Tae has that weird foot thing.”

“Exactly! So you get it.” Finally, a lead! “Will you come, then?” You flutter your eyelashes. “Pretty please, Hobi.”

“When is it?” As you rattle off the date, Hoseok digs through his bag for his phone. Then he pulls up his calendar and frowns. “Shit, no can do, either. My elective rotation starts that prior Monday.”

“Ew. What elective are you taking?”

Hoseok nearly blinds you as he smiles. “Reproductive endo and infertility.”

Your eyes widen. “Holy shit, that one you applied to ages ago? You got it?” He nods. “Oh my god, Hobi, that’s amazing!” You launch across the table to hug him. “I still hate you for bailing, but think of all the tiny raisins you’re gonna help bring into the world!” You wipe away a fake tear. “You’re a god amongst men, Jung Hoseok.”

He takes a bow. “Thank you, thank you. Speaking of which, how’s the volunteer gig in the ER treating you?”

“It’s fine.” You groan, put-upon, and sometimes Hoseok is so smiley and endearing that you feel guilty unloading all of your burdens on him, so you aren’t going to. Not unless he asks. Because he’s prone to dramatics and neuroticism but not like you are, and you know it can be a lot for someone not expecting it.

However—

“That’s good. Is that annoying guy you told me about still bothering you?”

Wrong question.

You cock an eyebrow. “This is the third time this week.”

In front of you, Kim Seokjin just grins, dried blood cracking on his plush lower lip. “Yep.”

“It’s Tuesday,” you deadpan. The grin grows wider, warping the purple-black bruise beneath his eye.

Because he’s arguably the most annoying person on earth, Seokjin just hums an acknowledgement, leaning further against the reception desk. “Well,” he says, voice interlaced with honey, “you’d have to take that up with the Babylonians, since they invented the modern calendar. Not much I can do about that.”

A pause. Then, “You’re really fucking annoying, do you know that?”

“It's a bit rude to insult someone seeking out your services, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your tongue into the fat of your cheek. “Not really. Not if it’s you.”

Surprisingly—or maybe not, considering everything seems to roll off his back—a laugh comes tumbling out of him. “Listen, I know it’s probably overwhelming to be blessed with the sight of this face not once, but three times in a week. I can understand and excuse your insensitivity, so I won’t report you this time, but—”

Ignoring him, you slam a clipboard onto the space between you. “You know the drill.”

“What if I’ve forgotten it?”

“Name, address, insurance information, reason for treatment.”

“You know my name, you know where I live, insurance hasn’t changed, and I’m just here to soak in your sparkling personality.”

With as murderous a stare as you can muster, you push the clipboard further in his direction. It hits something solid. Probably a rib, judging by Seokjin’s pained wheeze, but you don’t get paid enough to care. “Do you need a pen?”

“Why, so you can stab me with it?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He rolls his eyes. Thumbs through the intake forms and pretends to read them, even though the last time he had to sign one he’d just drawn a stick figure giving you the finger. “Have you ever spoken to anyone about your sociopathic tendencies? Might do you some good.”

With prolonged eye contact, you toss a pen in his direction. Hits him square between the eyes. “A million times,” you deadpan. This is where you’d blow a bubble and pop it if you were allowed to chew gum on the clock. “I’ve been diagnosed with an incurable case of bitchitis. It’s a very tragic burden to bear. Fill out the form.”

Seokjin huffs. Stays standing right in front of you as he does as you say, ignoring the line of people behind him that’s rapidly stacking up. Someone towards the back yells at him to get out of the way, but the protest dies immediately once he turns around and smiles. You think an elderly woman faints. She definitely bobbles, at the very least.

“Thanks so much for your help,” Seokjin says, handing the forms back with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. They’re free of doodled middle fingers, so you wave him off. “Have a great day,” he lobs over his shoulder. When you look down, he’s giving you the finger at waist-height.

“Have the day you deserve,” you fire back.

Your skin needles with anxiety for the rest of the day.

Seokjin comes into the emergency room again on Friday.

He’s got a large gash just above his eyebrow that’s gonna need stitches. You tell him as much as he fills out the same forms as the day before, and he tells you to tell him something he doesn’t know as he rolls his eyes and winces immediately.

“Here’s something you don’t seem to know: karma is real, and she also thinks you’re an asshole.”

You get the finger again for that one. Honestly, you can’t say you don’t deserve it.

“Kiss my ass.”

You pretend to pout. “Health hazard. Against hospital policy.”

Seokjin pauses. Seems to study you for a while, and then he’s cocking an eyebrow and asking, “What do you actually do here, anyway? Besides be a giant bitch.”

Wordlessly, you point at your name tag. There, right beneath your first and last name, lies the answer to Seokjin’s question. He squints. Winces again. “You’re a med student?”

Again, you point at your name tag.

“That means I can write a complaint.”

“Go ahead,” you retort. “My mother’s on the board of directors, and luckily for you she already knows I’m a giant bitch.”

Seokjin snorts, jaw dropping slightly. Just enough to draw attention to his mouth, which you’ve seen a hundred times for a hundred different injuries, but it looks especially sinful today. Maybe it’s just because he’s being mean to you, which is something you might need to explore with Taehyung in exchange for pictures of your feet.

“Ah, I should’ve known. You’ve got overwhelming nepo kid energy. Probably never had to work for anything a day in your life, huh? Probably a legacy to whatever shit-tier medical school was bribed into accepting you, too.”

Until now, you’d thought your banter with Seokjin was relatively harmless. Barbed, sure, and definitely effective. You’d throttle Seokjin if given the chance, and you know he’d do the same. But it’s never been outright cruel.

You try to look unfazed. Try to look like you don’t care about Seokjin and his words at all, because they’re nothing you haven’t heard before. Not like you’d asked to be born to your parents, so shit like this usually rolled off your back.

Now, though—

Your face must fall, just a little, because Seokjin immediately looks remorseful. Moves to say something, but you’re retrieving his clipboard and intake paperwork before he can stutter out an apology. “Thanks. They’ll call you back shortly.”

“Hey, I—“

“You can take a seat over there,” you interject, eyes locked on your computer screen. If you tear up, you can just blame it on eye strain.

You don’t see Seokjin for another two weeks.

And that’s… fine. His absence has given you some time to digest, some time to mull things over, decide if you’re actually upset or if you’d gone temporarily insane. It’d taken ten days, but you came to the conclusion that it’d just been a fleeting moment of sensitivity. People are mean to you all the time in the ER; if you took each insult or attack on your character to heart, you’d be in for a world of hurt.

So, yeah. You’d had a rough day and Seokjin saying you were a good-for-nothing nepot stung a little. That’s it.

Because you’ve got more pressing matters to attend to. You’ve managed to piss away an entire month without securing a date to the wedding, and now you’ve got time breathing down your neck. Two months, your mother’s shrill voice shrieks in your head, and it devolves into weeks and days and hours the longer you let yourself spiral. It’d seemed like so long before: you’d been so certain you’d have a date by the end of day one, and then the universe had to go and humble you. Cruel.

But the universe is also fair, because one day it’s been two weeks since you’ve seen Seokjin, and the next it’s a painfully slow Thursday afternoon and he strolls in with splinted fingers and a sheepish, weary expression.

“Uh, hi.”

You look up from your computer, taking in all the bruises and scars that dot his face but take nothing away from the beauty of it. “Sorry, exorcism hours ended at noon.”

Seokjin swallows, nostrils flaring. He looks like he wants to argue, just because he’s him and you’re you, but he acquiesces with a little nod. “Fair. I deserved that.”

“Here for the usual?” you ask, tone dry and neutral. When Seokjin doesn’t answer, you grab a clipboard and start your usual spiel—name, address, insurance information, reason for treatment—and then there’s a choked-off sound, not unlike a cat dying.

He looks pained when you dare a glance. Face contorted into a grimace, just like all the parents who bring in their constipated babies. “No, no,” he says. Sucks in a deep breath, and you nearly roll your eyes in exasperation. This guy’s acting like he’s about to give a speech at the goddamn United Nations. “I’m here to… apologize?”

You blink. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you?” A pause. “Yeah, definitely telling you.”

“Okay.” Another pause. Seokjin fidgets, shifts his weight from one leg to the other, wipes probably-sweaty palms on his jeans, picks up every pen in the cup and drops it back in. “Well, the floor is yours.” More silence. His face seems to shift into reluctant acceptance. “Any day now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“I was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Okay.”

“I still think you’re really mean—”

“Sure, that’s fair.”

“—but I’d like to make it up to you. I think.”

“You sure are thinking a lot. Wanna give those brain cells a break?”

“Fuck you,” he replies automatically. “Here I am, trying to be nice—”

An idea strikes you then. Parts the hazy recesses of your mind like the Red Sea, and it feels like you’ve been struck by lightning. “How were you planning on making it up to me?”

Because he’s not wholly an idiot, Seokjin sends you a pointed look. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You’re sure your smile looks straight out of a Creepypasta, but there’s an opportunity here, and you’d be a fool to let it slip through your fingers. “Because I just so happen to need a favor, and here you are, ready to dish one out.”

“I never said it was a favor.”

You pout. “But Seokjin,” you whine, “you were so mean.”

One of his eyes twitches. “Why does this feel like a crossroads deal?”

“I think the Grinch felt similar. Right before his heart grew three sizes and he saved Christmas.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and you can almost see the scales tipping in his brain, weighing whether or not it’s a good idea to entertain you at all. Which is impressive, all things considered, because he doesn’t even know what you’ll ask for yet. He could be expecting something humiliating at his expense, or a monetary bribe—you’re pretty certain asking for a date will catch him fully off-guard.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing big,” you reply easily. Twirl your hair around your finger. Bat your eyelashes. “Just a little date.”

Seokjin sputters. “A what.”

“A date,” you repeat. “I just so happen to need a date to my brother’s wedding, and you just so happen to be overcome with guilt. It’s a win-win.”

“We don’t even like each other!”

You click your tongue. “Even better, because I don’t like my brother, either!”

“So this is… what? A game? Some kind of petty revenge? Bring the guy who looks like me to your brother’s wedding to rebel against your parents?”

“Yes, absolutely,” you answer, not even bothering to sugarcoat it. Seokjin doesn’t seem convinced. You sigh. “Look, you can say no. Or I can throw in something extra if it feels unfair—”

“Like what?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, I haven’t had time to prepare a fucking offer sheet, Seokjin. What do you want?”

“Depends. What’s this all entail? Is it a one-time thing or do I have to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

You choke. “My boyf—” But then it hits you: your brother will hate this. Your parents will hate it even more. Without even needing to ask, it’s clear Seokjin isn’t from your world, and if they’re ready to disinherit you for showing up to your brother’s wedding alone, might as well commit to the bit. So you clear your throat and smile again. “And if I say yes?”

“It’ll cost more,” Seokjin deadpans.

You nod, feeling a little like you’re swindling this poor man. “Add it to my tab, boyfriend.”

[THE MEETING]

Finding a date was supposed to be the hard part. Turns out, it’s only the beginning.

Your parents are thrilled and a little stunned when you tell them you’ve secured a plus-one. (So is your brother, but you have better luck with him listening when you tell him to fuck off. It’s a little hard to say the same to your mother and father when they’re dangling a trust fund in front of you like a carrot.) And, in true upper echelon form, they grill you. For hours. Family name, family business, how you met, what their intentions are, blah blah blah. You feel a migraine coming on somewhere around question two.

Eventually, your mother says, “I don’t know about this,” and your father grunts in agreement. You don’t think he’s used full words in years. Not with you.

“What’s there to know?” you whine, nearly rolling your eyes. “I’m not marrying the guy. It’s just a date.”

Your mother flutters around the kitchen, pointedly not looking at you. It’s weird seeing her like this: almost like a real mother, almost like she’s going to say something comforting and serve you a plate of freshly-baked cookies instead of huffing and puffing at everything you say and treating you like a pariah. “Do you even know this young man?”

“Of course I know him.”

“Do I need to remind you that it’s bad etiquette to bring a first date to a wedding?”

There’s a pang of annoyance that you have to tamper down. “It’s not a first date.”

“Oh? You’ve been seeing him regularly?”

This time you do roll your eyes. “Sure, Mom.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at your mother,” your father says, not bothering to lower the newspaper in front of him.

“How did you—”

“Is this young man your boyfriend?”

You think about what Seokjin had said: It’ll cost more. Not, you couldn’t pay me eight billion dollars to pretend to date you. Not, no thanks I’d rather die. Just, it’ll cost more. So, as you sit in this opulent kitchen with your parents and some ungodly amount of Italian marble, you think there’s nothing you wouldn’t pay to make these people miserable. These people, who never saw you beyond a status symbol. That traditional nuclear family tucked behind the white picket fence. Two kids. Golden retriever. Pool boy. Family vacations to five-star resorts, only your parents smiling in the pictures before they abandoned you and your brother with the nanny.

So, no, Seokjin isn’t your boyfriend. Not really. But he’s willing to play the part and that’s good enough. “Yeah,” you answer, and one simple word stops your mother in her tracks and gets your father to finally abandon his stupid newspaper, and just this little bit of power feels nice.

“Oh,” comes your mother’s reply. She shares a look with your father.

Because the patriarchy is alive and well and he loves to play the arbiter, he says, “I think we should meet him.”

And, because you’re not an idiot, you say, “Don’t forget the rule was that I had to find a date, not that you had to approve them.”

With a huff, your father disappears again behind his newspaper.

You: i need another favor

Rapid Onset Migraine: how much

You: shouldn’t my boyfriend want to do nice things for me out of the kindness of his own heart

Rapid Onset Migraine: no

(“Shouldn’t you have him saved under his actual name? Maybe a little heart emoji?” Hoseok asks, looking over your shoulder. “Unless he has a degradation kink, I don’t think anyone’s going to buy that someone named Rapid Onset Migraine is actually your boyfriend.”

“Shut up, Hobi. It’s one of those things that are violently affectionate and ironically cute.” A pause. Then—“Do you think Thunderclap Headache is better?”

“No. No, I definitely do not.”)

You: you don’t even know what the favor is

Rapid Onset Migraine: don’t care

You: fine

You: i would like to formally demand your presence at dinner with my parents this thursday at 7

Rapid Onset Migraine: i’m busy

You: i will literally venmo you rn to cancel your plans

Rapid Onset Migraine: i’m suddenly free. @jin-k92

Rapid Onset Migraine: five hundred dollars please

You: fuck off

You: $50. final offer. take it or leave it

Rapid Onset Migraine: leave it

You: sent. see you thursday!

It’s Tuesday night and you’re fresh off your shift, headed to your car, looking forward to doing nothing but absorbing into your couch and maybe using that new bath bomb, when someone on a skateboard crashes into you.

You’re on your ass before you can process, stunned, staring up at the fluorescent lights of the parking lot. A familiar face enters your line of sight, not looking all that apologetic. “Whoops.”

You groan. “Worst boyfriend ever,” you retort, sticking your hand in the air. “At least help me up.”

There’s absolutely no grace in the way Seokjin hauls you to your feet. Doesn’t bother to steady you when you bobble, either, and you have half a mind to give him the finger. Instead, you say, “Are you stalking me?” and delight in the split-second of panic that overtakes his features.

“No,” he eventually says, expression right back to neutral. “You’ve already agreed to date me. Why would I need to stalk you?”

“There’s at least seventeen different problems with that statement and I’m not going to touch any of them.” You take a second to look him over: no obvious injuries, still obnoxiously attractive. Hair a little longer than usual, rogue strands hanging loose and framing his face. No one should be allowed to look like this. He really, really gets on your nerves. “Why are you here, though? You look fine.”

“I am fine—”

“Uninjured,” you clarify, which earns you a scoff.

“I’m that, too,” he snarks, “but I came to find you to figure out the game plan.”

“Why didn’t you just text me?”

“I was already in the area,” he lies.

“Uh-huh.”

“And I thought I could con you into buying me dinner.”

“What’d you do with the fifty bucks I sent you the other day?”

Seokjin looks at you like you’re dumb. You’re really starting to wonder if you are. “I spent it.”

“On what?”

“Are you my accountant now?” he huffs.

“No, but you’re not my sugar baby, either. Buy your own dinner.”

He bats his lashes at you. “But honey…”

“Fuck off, Seokjin,” you say, stomping towards your car. Unsurprisingly, he’s right behind you, the wheels of his skateboard noisy as they glide along the concrete. “This is why you’re always needing stitches?” you ask, knowing he’s close enough to hear.

“Yep.” A louder noise; probably some kind of trick. You’re not going to dignify him by watching and being impressed.

During your second semester of college, Hoseok had gotten you into this horrible habit of parking far away. So you get your steps in, had been his reasoning, and it’s hard to say whether you’d given in to the 10,000 steps per day hysteria or just Hoseok’s convincing, evil little smile, but you still do it. And you’re really regretting it now, when you have to traipse through a half-mile of parking lot with the world’s most annoying person on your heels.

“Are you gonna take me to dinner, though?”

That’s how you wind up sitting across from him at a diner.

His cheeseburger is demolished in record time. Fries are halfway gone, too, by the time he asks what the plan is and seems genuinely shocked when you say there isn’t one.

“What do you mean there’s no plan?”

“There’s no plan,” you repeat, dipping your own fry into his ketchup just so he has to swat your hand away. “I mean, dinner is at seven, but that’s it.”

Seokjin looks confused, like you’ve tilted his world on its axis. “There’s gotta be a plan,” he argues. “There’s always a plan with you trust fund kids.”

Another dig, and you can tell by the way he avoids your gaze once he makes it. “There’s really no plan,” you say, ignoring the quip. There’s a reason you’ve got a fake boyfriend, and it’s not because your parents are benevolent and easy-going. “I don’t care what you tell my parents.”

“Now I know for sure you’re setting me up.”

You shrug. “Believe whatever you want.”

Seokjin studies you, clearly still unconvinced. “You’re telling me,” he begins, sticking the straw of his root beer float in his mouth, “that I can just walk in there and sabotage you? That I have carte blanche? That I can tell them you literally paid me to be there?” You shrug. There’s a disgusting slurping sound. You grimace.

“Well, I’m hoping you won’t, but I certainly can’t stop you.”

“You’re terrible at fake dating.”

A sigh escapes you before you can stop it. You don’t want to delve into twenty-plus years of parental trauma, especially not with this guy, but sometimes it can’t be helped. “Look, I don’t want to go to my brother’s wedding. I don’t like him, and I don’t like my parents. No one else wanted to fake date me”—you hold up your hand to kill the obvious comment before he makes it—“and, honestly, my parents are gonna hate you and that’s the entire reason I asked for your help. So, no, I don’t care what you tell them, because I don’t care if they approve. I’m sick of them making me jump through hoops just to be their kid.”

Unfazed, Seokjin breezily replies, “You obviously care enough to keep taking their money.”

“I consider my trust fund to be reparations.”

“That why you were so touchy about that nepotism comment?”

Nodding, you fidget with the hem of your scrub top, hands suddenly sweaty. “Well, it doesn’t feel great to have my accomplishments credited to my last name or whatever, but it’s not something I can stop anyone from assuming.”

“Are they?”

“It’d be naive to think they aren’t.”

“You got into med school, though,” Seokjin says, and you tamper down the flush that’s creeping in. You are not going to care about any man’s acknowledgement. “That’s not an easy thing to do.”

“Can you tell my parents that?”

A laugh bellows out of him, and you’re horrified to learn it’s a terrible sound. Everyone in the diner turns to stare, and you’re flushed crimson and trying to duck under the table.

Still, you can’t help but smile. Your parents really are going to have a stroke.

To your delight, Seokjin is good at getting people to hate him. Like, really good—almost scarily so.

He’d shown up twenty minutes late, having ignored the dress code entirely, clad in a pair of ripped black jeans and a plain black t-shirt, arm tattoos and innumerable scars proudly on display. He hadn’t bothered to shake your father’s hand or introduce himself to your mother, just fell into the seat next to you, stage-whispered a, this place is a shithole huh, and stuck his nose in a menu. When the waiter came by, he ordered a bottle of wine older than the two of you combined and the most expensive entree on the menu.

Now, an hour in, your parents are teetering on the edge of a major cardiac event.

“So, Seokjin,” your father says, voice gritty and forced, “what do you do?”

Seokjin shoves a large piece of meat in his mouth, making sure to smack his lips. “What d’you mean?” he asks, the question garbled around the food.

“For a living.”

Scarily good, you think. Seokjin pretends to choke, pretends to look shocked and appalled. “I don’t work,” he answers, tone bang-on to the one your parents use when they’re being condescending. “My parents give me money, and I figured I’d date this one”—he flicks you in the temple—“until she becomes a doctor and can support me. Then we’ll get married.”

Your mother gasps. Your smile is involuntary.

Your father, on the other hand, knocks over his wine glass. Spills it all over the table, goes red in the face, and it’s the most distressed you’ve ever seen him, usually composed to a fault, immovable. “You’ll do no such thi—”

Seokjin fakes a yawn. “You ready, babe?” He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just stands, tosses his napkin on the table, and grabs your hand. The two of you are out of the restaurant before either of your parents can utter a word.

Feels like one of those movie moments, you think: the cool breeze in your hair, against your flushed cheeks, your hand in Seokjin’s, both of you not daring to breathe or make a sound until you’re safe outside, away from your parents and their gobsmacked expressions. And then you crack, just enough for laughter to spill out, and Seokjin snorts, another horrible sound, and before you know it, the two of you are collapsed against the side of the restaurant, tears in your eyes as the brick scrapes against your skin.

Maybe something shifts. Maybe the smile Seokjin sends you is genuine.

[THE RELATIONSHIP]

Much to your horror, fake relationships aren’t all that different from normal, authentic ones.

Which means two things: one, that your brother and his wife-to-be both received an earful from your parents about Seokjin and The Dinner, and two, you still have to compromise.

The first one wasn’t so bad. Your brother had called you and issued a vague threat, of course, because he’s never had a sense of humor about anything, but you hadn’t answered so it’d been easy to delete the voicemail and forget about it. And, luckily for him, your future sister-in-law was far more lax. Bring him, she’d texted. He sounds like a good time.

You’re not sure you’d describe Kim Seokjin as a good time, but you replied with a thumbs-up emoji regardless.

All of that had been fine. You’re well-versed in dealing with your family by now, so it’s easy to let their bullshit wash over you and down the drain like rainwater.

No, it’s the fake but has to look at least semi-real relationship that’s proving to be difficult.

Because you don’t like to compromise. You want to do what you want to do when you want to do it, and you don’t want to hear about it from anyone. But here you are, doing a quasi-photoshoot with Seokjin so he can “soft launch” you on his Instagram—which, honestly, is a little daunting. He has a lot of followers. Not surprising, considering the way he looks, but the thought of being perceived by hundreds of thousands of strangers makes you feel like you’re wearing your skin inside-out.

“Can you try looking less constipated?” he asks, tone dry as toast as he scrolls through the series of selfies the two of you just took.

You scoff. “First of all, I don’t look constipated.” Really, you don’t. “Second of all, why do you even need to do this? We only have to convince my parents, and you pissed them off so bad I’m not sure they’ll ever ask me to bring a date to anything ever again.”

“Because I have a competition next weekend that you’ll have to go to, and I don’t want anyone asking any questions.”

“What if I’m busy?”

“You’re not,” Seokjin retorts, all conviction. “If I had to clear my schedule for that dinner, you’re free for this.”

“What if I have a school thing?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. He’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him through his phone camera. It’s really not fair, the way his face is. “Do you?”

“No, but what if?”

He takes another picture and cackles, gleefully showing it to you. “See? You definitely look constipated.”

With a glare, you wrestle the phone out of his hand and aim it the way you want—the way you know looks good. And maybe you do a little pout, too; do that thing with your eyes that looks seductive and a little dirty. Not because you care about what Seokjin’s followers think, because you’re hot and you know it, but because you want him to suffer. Just a little bit. It’s illogical, the way you want him to look at this picture and feel… something. Half pride, half longing.

So, you angle and pout. Delight in the caught-out expression on Seokjin’s face this time, like it’s the first time he’s learning that you’re hot and that it troubles him a little. “Is that better?” you ask, sugar-sweet.

Seokjin doesn’t respond, just posts the picture to his Instagram story.

Skateboarding has never been your thing.

Your brother had gone through a phase, once. Spent all his allowance on the video games and collected CCS catalogs, spending imaginary money as he’d thumb through the pages and circle everything he wanted. Never bought a real board, though—just developed a superiority complex because he listened to the Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 soundtrack one too many times and thought it was a legitimate substitute for actual pre-teen rebellion.

However, fake-dating Seokjin means you’re getting a crash course.

“What do these do?” you ask, holding up a set of wheels. There’s an alien holding a bong on them. They make you laugh.

Seokjin eyes you from across the shop and pointedly ignores your question. Instead, the disgruntled guy behind the register answers. “They’re wheels,” he says, tone clipped, which you answer with a surprised noise, like you’ve discovered something new.

“Wow, wheels,” you intone. “Cool.”

Done picking out new grip tape, or whatever the hell he’d said, Seokjin plucks the wheels from your hand and puts them back where you’d gotten them. “Fascinating invention, huh?”

The man behind the register smells like weed. Reeks of it, actually, and the stench is almost overbearing as you sidle up next to Seokjin at the counter. Yoongi, his name tag reads. You don’t think he looks like a Yoongi, because it kind of lends itself to a stoner character, but it also sounds kind of sweet, and the man in front of you looks like he could snap you like a twig and enjoy it.

Then—“Oh, you’re Instagram girl.”

You scowl. “I’m who.”

First, you’re reduced to nepotism and your family name; now it’s Instagram. There’s a huff halfway out of your mouth when Seokjin wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his side. You think he’d press a kiss to your temple if this was real. “My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, playfully hip-checking you.

Yoongi looks between the two of you, then pushes the tape back in Seokjin’s direction. “You know you don’t have to pay for this shit, man.”

“Sure, but I can. I have a rich girlfriend now.”

He yelps when you step on his foot with the heel of your boot. “Aren’t you so lucky,” you grit out.

You don’t see the way his gaze softens, but Yoongi sure does.

Anticipation crackles in the air.

Feels like the day you’d sat for the MCAT—that brand of nervous, determined focus, bordering on excitement. Something that will really only go one of two ways with a million variables, and it’s a small relief to not be the one in the hot seat.

Hoseok had been there last time. Now, a man that’s seemingly all limbs plops down beside you, ungraceful and awkward.

“You’re Instagram girl,” he says, before sticking his hand out. “Hi, I’m Namjoon.”

Seems like Seokjin’s idea of a soft launch is anything but. Briefly, you wonder how many more people are going to forego your identity entirely in the name of Instagram, but it’s kind of nice, too—nice to be someone other than your parents’ daughter, your brother’s sister, your family name. There’s a long way to go before the patriarchy is smashed entirely, because it’s not so nice to be newly reduced to Seokjin’s girlfriend, but baby steps.

For now, it’s all right.

For now, there are far worse things you could be.

“Hi, Namjoon,” you finally reply, because he seems out of place and nice enough—nicer than Yoongi, at least. Definitely far less gruff and abrasive.

He chokes a little, like he’s surprised you responded to him. Not for the first time, it’s just sort of par for the course when you are who you are. “Oh, sorry,” he says, cheeks flushing under the guise of the relentless afternoon sun. “I just—recognized you? And couldn’t help myself? Which probably sounds really creepy, which was not my intent, it’s just—Jin doesn’t bring anyone to these things. Like, ever. So it was a little shocking! Kind of like meeting a celebrity? Even though I’ve never really done that, either. Oh! I met Greta Thunberg once. That was cool. It was, like, on accident, though? So…”

On and on he goes, bless him, because he just talks endlessly without expecting a response. You look around: the bleachers are starting to fill up, awestruck kids with humored parents, and you wonder what that’s like. To have an interest in something and have it nurtured, instead of having to live up to expectations you never wanted. Maybe you would’ve been a skateboarder, too. Maybe you would’ve shucked all those societal norms and did something you wanted, even though it doesn’t really matter now.

“Hey,” you say, stopping Namjoon’s latest spiel in its tracks, “do you come to these things often?”

Namjoon lights up like Christmas. People must not ask him about himself much. “Yeah! Well, sometimes? I’m in grad school, so I come when I have time. I thought it’d be a good idea to get two master’s degrees, so I finished my first one—in philosophy, before you ask, which was pretty stupid, because what am I gonna do with that, you know? But I guess it worked, because I had a full-blown existential crisis and decided to get a second one to put off the inevitable second existential crisis over what I was going to do with my life—”

“What was that one in?”

Namjoon startles again, and it’s almost hopelessly endearing. “Huh? Oh, Botany and Plant Pathology.”

You blink. “Plant pathology?”

“Yeah! It’s really interesting, because everything’s connected, right? Like, you can’t really fight climate change and food insecurity if you have all these diseased crops and forests, and I leaned pretty heavily into biological philosophy for my first degree, especially environmental ethics and conservation—”

“...And you come to skateboarding competitions for fun?”

His ears turn red; his cheeks and neck follow shortly thereafter. “I like physics, and skateboarding has a lot of physics.”

Just your luck. “Can you explain to me what’s going on, then?”

Namjoon does as you ask, and takes his job very seriously. He explains the rules and the implications, the rankings and what they mean for the future, who’s who and the major players. He explains tricks as they happen—how they got their names, who did them first, notable events. You remember your brother screaming at the TV the night Tony Hawk landed the 900 at the X Games, and Namjoon’s smile is so bright when you tell him about it.

“Yeah, that’s—that was so fucking cool, man. You know he was 31 when he did that? I think about that sometimes. There’s all this emphasis on aging, this juvenile notion that life peaks in your twenties, that you need to have it all figured out before you’re thirty: the job, the marriage, the house with the white picket fence, and it’s bullshit. I know it’s bullshit, but sometimes I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything at my age, and I just think: Tony Hawk landed the first 900 when he was 31 years old, and now 10 year olds are doing it. That’s fucking dope.”

He’s off on another tangent almost immediately, telling you about how he’d met Seokjin and how they became friends. You hear none of it. Seokjin comes in second place. You don’t remember much of the celebration, either.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve been dunked in ice-cold water. Feels a bit like drowning.

You’re good at compartmentalizing.

You have to be, growing up in the family you did. Because Namjoon’s words had rattled you, sure, but you can’t linger on them. Lectures still need to be attended, hospital shifts still need to be worked, and it’d really hurt Hoseok’s feelings if you bailed on your study sessions, so you have to tuck away all those wayward thoughts for later.

Not until you’re alone, tucked into bed far too early for someone in their mid-20s, do you think about it.

Well, it’s less ‘thinking’ and more ‘ah, these are the existential crises Namjoon was talking about.’ Certainly not your first crisis, and it won’t be your last, but it’s still… unnerving. Being a doctor was something you’d always been rock-solid about. You hadn’t wanted to go into business like your father and brother, had no interest in kissing ass in the political sphere and wielding influence like your mother, but you’d been told all your life you had to do something. Something important, something impressive, something worth bragging about—because what were you worth if your parents couldn’t talk endlessly at fundraisers about how much better you were than everyone else?

You glance at the clock: almost two a.m. There’s only one person that’ll be awake at this hour, even though you shouldn’t. Seokjin has one job, and it isn’t talking you off the proverbial ledge in the middle of the night. Still—

You: you up?

Rapid Onset Migraine: this is happening a little fast don’t you think?

You: ??? huh

You: wait no

You: that’s NOT what i meant

Rapid Onset Migraine: yeah sure

Rapid Onset Migraine: well obviously i’m awake

Rapid Onset Migraine: you ok?

You: yeah, i’m sorry to bother you about this

You: i think i’m just having a bad time?

That’s that, you think, because minutes pass without a response. But then your phone’s vibrating, lighting up in your hand. Rapid Onset Migraine flashes across the screen, his contact photo set to a meme of Handsome Squidward just because you’d thought it was funny.

“Hello?”

“Sorry,” he says immediately, “I needed to make a pot of coffee before I had this conversation.”

You hum. The comment doesn’t sting. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink coffee.”

“I don’t,” Seokjin answers. “Well, not usually. Only if I have an early flight or something.”

“Or need to talk through your fake girlfriend’s two a.m. existential crisis?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin laughs, and it’s almost enough of a balm. “But I’m friends with Namjoon, so I’m an expert in those by now. I keep weird hours, anyway, you know? I’m either skating or gaming, so he used to call me at, like, four in the morning because he’d read too much Kierkegaard or Beauvoir and was spiraling.” You hear him take a sip of coffee. He starts sputtering immediately. “Shit, that’s hot. Fuck, I think I burnt my tongue off.”

“Luckily you know a doctor.”

“I do,” he says, and his tone is warm. Almost proud? “Anyway, what’s going on? You read Being and Nothingness, too, or what?”

For a moment, you’re just quiet, trying to think of the words to say. You’re well aware of your privilege, make a conscious effort to not throw it around the way others might, so there’s a lot of guilt that comes with something like this. You know what people probably think: poor little rich girl, with her family money and their connections, it must be so hard to be her. It’s not, and you’re fine, but—

“Did you always want to skate professionally?” you ask, because you figure it’s safe. Doesn’t give it all away, even though Seokjin’s smart enough to read between the lines.

And, to your surprise, he plays along. Doesn’t call you out or press on the bruise, just says, “Hm, no, not really.”

“No?” you repeat, incredulous. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he confirms. “This is really embarrassing, but I wanted to get into software engineering or coding. Whatever would let me make video games.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?”

“Because it’s me?” Seokjin forces a laugh, pure self-deprecation. “That’s the kind of stuff people like Namjoon do. And that’s—it’s fine. I’m good at skateboarding and I get paid to do it. That’s the kind of thing kids dream about, right? Getting paid to travel around and skateboard all day?” He sighs, and it’s broken in a way that’s unsettling and familiar. A sound that could be coming from your own lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it and I’m thankful I get to do this as a job, it’s just not what I thought I’d be doing with my life.”

A brief silence, and then Seokjin’s talking again before you can reply, which you’re glad for. Everything feels off-center. “Is that what’s going on? School stress?”

“Maybe,” you admit, still a little breathless. “I’m just… struggling? I think? With knowing what’s actual desire and what’s just expectation.”

“Ah, I see. I don’t think I can really help with that beyond empathizing, but I’m sorry you’re going through it.” Then, like he’s telling you a secret, “If it helps at all, I think it takes a lot of courage to do this kind of introspection. It’s not easy, especially when you’re likely to find things you don’t want to.”

You can’t help but snort, but it’s gentle. Quiet, though still loud in the stillness of your bedroom. “Thanks,” you eventually reply. “Surprisingly comforting.”

“Yah, I’ll have you know I’m a very comforting person!”

“Of course you are.”

“Besides,” he says, and his tone takes on such conviction you’re sure you’ll believe whatever comes out of his mouth next with no hesitation, “it’s fine if you decide this isn’t what you wanna do. It’s never too late, or whatever, but for what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be a great doctor.”

“Or whatever,” you echo, smile creeping up on you. “That makes it sound so easy.”

“I guess it is.”

What’s it like to live like that, you wonder. Completely devoid of expectations, just going with the flow, doing what you want without crippling fear of the consequences. Must be nice, is your conclusion. Life doesn’t work like that for you, and you’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with that, so it’s fine. You’re on a path and maybe it’s not what you would’ve chosen had you had time to look at all the possibilities, but you’re on a path and it’s yours.

You want to say this to Seokjin. You want to thank him, both for the pep talk and the unfounded confidence, but your eyelids feel heavy and he’s just babbling now, something about the first time he landed a tre flip, and it’s soothing. Comforting.

Sleep takes you before you can think about it too hard—think about how Seokjin used to be nothing but a menace, the worst part of your day, and now he’s not.

You’re on another night shift, third in a row, and you’re the kind of exhausted that has you smelling colors.

Nothing makes sense. Your bones hurt. When you think about going home and finally going to bed it feels like when you’re starving and wait too long to eat and don’t feel hungry anymore. Then you finally do and it’s not satisfying, kind of makes your stomach hurt, and the cycle repeats.

Seokjin texts you to check in. After your two a.m. convo, you’re hyperaware of how much time you spend venting, so you assure him you’re fine. He drops off a coffee and some snacks, anyway. Just because he’s already up.

—

There are other hangouts. You don’t call them dates, because that word has implications and meaning and this is fake, but you have them nonetheless.

Overindulgent takeaway, equally expensive alcohol that has sat unopened in your apartment for far too long, shitty movies playing in the background, and Seokjin’s inability to stop talking. He sneakily lobs popcorn at you when he thinks you aren’t looking. This prompts an all-out war, and you both have tears streaming down your faces by the time Seokjin calls a truce.

Just days later, you spread out a gingham blanket in the park. Seokjin makes up bullshit constellations, gives them horrific names and backstories, and revels in the sound of your infectious laughter. When your head feels too heavy to hold up, you lay back in the grass and try to keep your heart in your chest when Seokjin does the same, slender fingers searching out yours in the dark.

You want so badly to kiss him. Want to crash your mouths together and kiss him breathless, but you don’t.

On your third hangout, you cover each other in silly temporary tattoos and take too many selfies. Seokjin snorts at how dumb he looks in the filters and asks you to send him some, immediately setting a particularly couple-y shot as your contact photo.

And if you get butterflies when he posts one to his Instagram story? Well, that’s your business.

—

Seokjin gets the dumb idea that he’s going to teach you to skate.

Which is not only dumb because it’s impossible, but because you’re sure your skeletal system is probably insured for millions of dollars, knowing your parents. You can’t do any of your clinical rotations with broken bones—instant dismissal—and Seokjin knows this, but he’s annoyingly persistent and assures you you’ll be fine, so you relent because you trust him, despite all odds.

Physically, you are fine. Seokjin holds onto your waist and doesn’t let you fall, which is about all you can ask for when it comes to unwanted skateboarding lessons. Emotionally, though? Not so much. You’ve been close to Seokjin before. Enough to feel his body heat; enough to get goosebumps; enough to nearly become delirious with your want to taste him.

Normally that’s fine. But now, as he uses one hand to hold your waist and the other to hold your own hand, you can’t think of a single logical explanation for depriving yourself of more of this. Because he’s steady and warm, and sometimes you teeter and he grips tighter, causing your mind to wander and think about things it shouldn’t. You’re only human, and Seokjin is an otherworldly brand of handsome, so you don’t beat yourself up over it.

Still. It ignites something, that’s for sure, and if it’s anything like Seokjin himself, it won’t be easy to extinguish.

—

It’s by complete accident that you meet Jeongguk.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. You’ve met him before, at some bougie function your parents dragged you to, but it was brief and forced and awkward. Jeongguk was weird back then. Still is, probably, judging from his entire… presence, now.

He’s dangling upside down from a tree branch when you meet him for the second time.

“Oh. Jeongguk. Hi?”

“Hi!” he says, smile brighter than the sun, and before you can ask him why he’s upside down in a tree there’s a massive camera in front of his face. “Are you here to see Jin?”

Here is a public sidewalk, but you don’t say that. Instead, you say, “I’m on my way home. Why are you in a tree?”

His response is nonverbal, just a finger point dead ahead of you. Some Brutalist architecture leftover from the ‘50s—a large set of stairs, public fountain, weird art sculpture, a small crowd. Doesn’t take long to learn what they’re there for: Seokjin grinds down the rail, lands perfectly, nearly skates into the street and gets whacked by a car. Everyone cheers.

Ah, that explains the camera, too. You vaguely recall your mother telling you the youngest Jeon went to school for filmmaking. She hadn’t sounded impressed. You wonder what she’d think if she knew he was your delinquent, skateboarder, fake boyfriend’s videographer. Probably something aneurysm-inducing.

“He’s so cool,” Jeongguk says, whimsical and dreamy in a way that sounds like he has framed photos of Seokjin on his walls. Maybe his picture in a heart frame, like that one meme. “You’re so lucky.” There’s definitely some jealousy there.

You raise an eyebrow. “You wanna date him instead?”

Jeongguk seems to mull it over. Doesn’t move from his spot in the tree, either, and you reckon he’s got another sixty seconds before you forcefully turn him right side up. “Nah. He seems really happy with you.”

“We’re not—” Together, your brain finishes, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. So you cough, hope Jeongguk hasn’t caught it, and say, “Yeah, we’re not doing too bad,” instead.

—

“I think you’re too far gone, personally.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. What does Hoseok know? Okay, he’s probably the smartest person you know, but that’s medicine. He hasn’t had a long-term partner in years, so yeah, what does Hoseok know.

“I am not,” you insist, because the majority of your time in this library has been spent defending the validity of your love life, not studying. “Hobi, look.” You sigh, snapping shut your notebook. A migraine is forming just thinking about the amount of reviewing you’re gonna have to do at home to make up for this. “Does it really matter, in the grand scheme of things? Life is fleeting and we’re all inconsequential, so I understand why you’re grilling me on this and not the MLE review book we paid for—”

He pulls a face. “It was fifty bucks! You’re acting like I’m out thousa—”

“Not the point!”

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut. Pinches the bridge of his nose. Presses his fingers deep into his frontal sinus points. “I think it not being the point is the point, though? None of this was necessary. You could’ve just brought him to the wedding without having to pretend he’s your boyfriend.” You move to protest. He waves you off. “I know you wanted to get back at your parents. Your parents suck, so I get it, but don’t you think this is a little much?”

“How?”

Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to sigh. Put-upon, like he’s a beleaguered parent talking to a very idiotic child. “Uh, how about the fact that the two of you are going on actual dates, for one? And they’re definitely dates, so I don’t want to hear it. You took him to a Michelin star restaurant, quote-unquote, just because.”

“I was hungry!”

“Sure, okay, whatever you say.” He throws his hands up, clearly defeated, and it settles all wrong in your gut. Hoseok gets mad, sure, but never at you. Not even annoyed. “Have you given any thought at all, even considered just a teeny-tiny bit, that this might not be as fake as you think?”

“No,” you retort, petulant, because it is fake and you don’t need Hoseok to tell you that.

But Hoseok is smart, you know, so you were never going to get off easy. “I think you actually like him.”

“I know. You’ve said that a hundred times.”

“And I’ll say it a hundred and one, if I have to. Fuck, your head must be made of concrete.”

“Could be,” comes your breezy response. “Maybe that’s why my mother hates me.”

Hoseok chokes. Knocks his tea over and onto the MLE guide, which prompts a distressed shriek from him and a harsh shushing from the rest of the library.

So much for it only being fifty dollars.

—

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi does leave his skate shop, which comes as a shock for a man who has severe cavedweller vibes.

“Hey, Instagram,” he says, smelling like actual cologne and laundry detergent instead of a dispensary as he stands behind you in line.

Yoongi is clearly talking to you. You know he’s talking to you, but you still pause, fragile like a deer caught in headlights, and look over your shoulder as if he could be talking to anyone else. “Uh. Hi?”

He squints. “You are Instagram girl, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I thought so, but you looked at me like I was the one who’s stupid so I wasn’t sure.”

Did he just call you stupid? “Did you just call me stupid?”

Yoongi shrugs. “What’s good here?” he asks, changing the subject. He definitely called you stupid.

“I—most things? I don’t know, I always just get a cold brew with oat milk.”

He grimaces. “Ew, gross. I’m gonna go grab a table. Grab me a medium iced americano.”

You order him a small, purely out of spite, and Yoongi doesn’t come to this coffee shop often enough to know the difference so he doesn’t even notice when you set it down in front of him. Takes all the satisfaction out of being petty. He must know. “Thanks,” he says, not looking up from his phone as he unwraps a straw and stabs his drink perfectly in the center.

“Sure. I’ll send you a Venmo request.”

“Oh, I don’t have Venmo.” He finally looks up. “Are you going to Jin’s thing?” All he receives in response is a blank stare. “The skate comp. Second qualifying round for the big championship event? Surely he’s told you about this.”

Let no man ever say you’re a bad liar. “Ah, yeah, of course! Med student brain. It’s all memorizing neural pathways and… stuff… and forgetting skate competitions.”

“Hm,” comes Yoongi’s response, and he quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t question you further.

(You bring it up to Seokjin later, expecting him to laugh it off, extend an invitation out of obligation. Instead, he laughs in a way that sounds fond. Says, “Yoongi beat me to it,” in a way that brings his scarlet red neck and ears to the forefront of your brain, and follows it up with, “I’d really love it if you came, but I understand how busy you must be right now,” that has your skin flushing all the same.

You’re loath to make promises, but sometimes they’re easy.)

Time is not on your side.

You barely make it to Seokjin’s second competition. Barely have your ass in the bleachers, hairline dotted with sweat and anxiety coursing through you, before he’s dropping into the bowl for his first run.

He’d mentioned it offhand. Told you it wasn’t a big deal if you couldn’t make it, because he knew how busy you were with school and that you needed to study because exam season was relentless, but he’d looked so relieved when you joked that it wasn’t so easy to get rid of you, that you’d be cheering him on from the first row. That being anywhere else just wasn’t an option.

And that had… taken you aback. Watching him skate is a good enough distraction for all those thoughts. You don’t have to dwell on the whys: why the thought of sitting in your apartment, nose stuck in a book instead of being here, had been so unconscionable. Instead, you’re able to focus on him, which is almost worse. Because the way he looks—wind pushing his hair back off his forehead as he skates around, calf muscles flexing every time he kicks, shirt fabric darkening under a light sheen of sweat, smiling at kids and the countless people he knows—is a little overwhelming. You’re winded for two reasons.

It’s a beautiful thing, watching someone do something they’re passionate about. Seokjin especially, but you’re biased. You want only good things for him.

His first run finishes. He chews on his bottom lip as the judges huddle together. Numbers flash on the scoreboard. Good—great, even. You know what the stakes are: score high enough and he’ll advance to the championship. More sponsors will fall in line. Someone will present him with one of those comically large checks that he’ll probably spend on god-knows-what at Yoongi’s shop.

More skaters follow. Highs and lows. Seokjin watches them all, enraptured, just as happy for their successes as his own. Someone bails out right next to him, arms out to break their fall, making a sound an arm should never make, and Seokjin’s there right away. He’s good.

Except the universe doesn’t always reward goodness. His second run starts off well: smooth as butter, impressively technical. Seokjin is fluid when he skates. Makes it look easy, like you could hop on a board and do it just as well. You watch him, but you almost like watching everyone else watch him more: the wide eyes, the whistles under their breath, the nods of approval. Seokjin’s got all of it, truly thrives on the admiration. He’s good, he’s good, he’s good.

You know it’s coming. That trick he’d told you about—the one he’s never been able to land during a competition. The one that’s gnawing away at him. He’s going to try it, and you’re holding your breath as he kickflips, grinds his board along the rail, does some kind of dismount that looks absurd and impossible to your untrained eye.

Then he’s on the ground.

He’s still for a second. Huffs in frustration. Back on his board before you can blink.

Seokjin’s not a child, but you know it stings. You’re overwhelmed by the urge to comfort him, the way he’s done for you countless times, but you shouldn’t so you don’t. The two of you don’t talk until after, and by then it might not matter.

It isn’t until he’s about to drop in for his final run that he scans the crowd. You want to believe the look on his face when he spots you is relief, but it’s painted over in a nanosecond. He smiles, smug but content, and then he’s shoving his helmet back on his head, clapping someone on the back, and he’s off.

Maybe the universe does reward goodness, because everything goes right this time.

Seokjin lines up to attempt the trick again, because if he’s going to go out it’s going to be on his terms. Completely unshakeable, the kind of attitude that gets plastered on those bullshit inspirational posters about falling down nine times and getting up ten, and you wonder, briefly, if it’s stupid. A good score would be enough to get him through, but he wants to do this.

And he does.

Everyone around you erupts as soon as the trick is landed. Seokjin calls the run early—just a handful of seconds left, anyway—and his fellow competitors are on him immediately. Someone picks him up in a bear hug and spins him around, and the joy on his face is so pure, so unbridled, that you almost cry.

But the wait is torturous. His second run had gone so poorly and those in the top spots had done so well that it’ll be close, even with a gazelle flip under his belt. Nothing is certain, and the way you can barely bring yourself to look at the scoreboard is proof enough. Seokjin is good, and you want only good things for him, and you can barely look at the scoreboard but you can’t look away, either—

The roar of the crowd is deafening.

A freeze-frame moment. All around you, there are fists in the air, shrill yells of Seokjin’s name, maybe a chant, nothing but chaos. You can hardly hear yourself think, but you can see just fine, and what you see is Seokjin’s gaze locked on yours. The corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. A flicker of hesitation before he’s gracefully shrugging everyone off of him and making his way over to you, and then it’s just reflex. Here, you know what to do.

You barely flinch when he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in.

Everything is soft. Feels a bit like floating.

Seokjinnie: do you wanna come over later?

Seokjinnie: i can either cook or get takeout, your choice

The apartment is small and you love it because he kisses you at the door. Seokjin has lips you want to memorize, so you kiss him again as he pulls away. The two of you kiss for a long time: throughout the “tour,” which is just the large studio space and the bathroom, all over the kitchen as he finishes cooking, until he exaggeratedly pulls out your chair, until you have to shove food in your face to keep your mouth off of him.

Seokjin has the kind of lips that leave you questioning if it’s really this easy.

Because Hoseok had been right: this isn’t fake for you anymore. Hasn’t been for a while, if you’re being honest, and maybe before this would’ve been a realization that scared you, but this doesn’t. Not when it’s Seokjin. So, yeah, maybe it is easy.

“Wait,” he says, chest heaving, gently pulling away from you. “Before I—wait, I have to talk to you about something.”

You just smile, hands still grazing over warm skin. “I think I already know.”

He stills. Takes a few seconds to reboot his brain before he’s smiling, laughing in a way that almost sounds unhinged. “God, yeah. Yeah, me too. But it’s—not that.”

“What, then?”

Immediately it’s clear this is not going to go well. Seokjin sighs, tilts his head back against the arm of the couch. His neck is gorgeous, littered with marks from you, but you gear up for a fight nonetheless. “The competition,” he says, as if that’s enough explanation. “The final round got pushed up.”

Your stomach drops. You know what’s coming, but you still ask, “To when?” because you’re a little bit masochistic. Because maybe you’re itching for the fight. Itching to say see, I told you so, I knew this was never going to work, because it’s always been fake. Itching to hurt, because you want what’s familiar when you hurt.

“Saturday.”

The day of your brother’s wedding. “Of course.” You snort; the universe loves a good dose of irony.

He sighs again. Looks so genuinely distressed that you find it hard to truly be upset. “I’m sorry. I just found out today.”

“It’s fine,” comes your instantly reply, auto-generated. Some silly, naive part of you refuses to spiral, stubbornly convinced you can salvage this. You’d found a date. That was the rule. You’ve done exactly what your parents asked of you, and you think with a rueful smile that they’ll probably be relieved when you show up alone.

But Seokjin’s not convinced. There’s still turmoil painted across his face—some silly, naive part of him clinging to something stubborn, too. “I’m going to ask you to be there.”

Yet another freeze-frame moment. The part in video games where it’s clear you have a very important choice to make, neon signs practically blinding, saying you better choose right, better not fuck it up. But you’re going to. You’re going to say no, and it’s going to hurt Seokjin, and you have about ten seconds to come to peace with that.

“I can’t.”

To his credit, Seokjin doesn’t look surprised, and you think that might be more painful. He’d expected nothing from you and you still let him down, so his snort is sardonic and derisive when he says, “Of course you can’t.”

And your tone is defensive and disbelieving when you retort, “What’s that supposed to mean? What exactly do you expect me to do here?”

“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to do anything, I’d foolishly hoped you’d say yes.”

Your jaw drops. Snaps shut when you swallow around the lump in your throat, because you’re not going to cry at not living up to another set of invisible expectations. “It’s my brother’s wedding, Seokjin. It’s not some small thing I can blow off.”

“Is that it?” he challenges, eyebrow quirked, expression bemused. “Or do you not want to lose your precious little trust fund?”

“Are you serious? Of course I don’t want to lose it, but I—”

“You don’t even like your brother,” he continues, giving you absolutely no reprieve. No chance to catch up, catch your breath. “You don’t even like your family, but I guess you like their money. Nothing was ever gonna be more important than that, huh?”

“That’s not fair, Seokjin.”

He hums; knows you’re right. Doesn’t try to get in anymore jabs, but he looks broken. “I don’t think this has been fake for either of us for a long time. It was stupid to think you’d go against your family on this, but I thought maybe, for me—”

“Again, that’s not fair.”

“I know it isn’t fair,” he shoots back. “I know that. I just…” He rubs his hands over his face. “I can’t skip this, and you’re not willing to skip yours, so I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”

“I can just go alone,” you say, because it seems simple. “I already did what they asked, so I can just go alone. It’s fine.”

“It’s not like that for me.”

You’re stunned into silence. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s irrational, but it’s… the principle. For me. I’m never going to match up, you know? I’m never going to be from your world. I can make all the money in the world doing what I do and I’ll still never come close. So I had this stupid thought in my head, like, if she comes then it’s real for her, too. It means something. If she’s there, we can figure it out.”

“And that’s the only way? It’s only real if I do this one thing? Doesn’t matter how we feel?” You laugh, exasperated, and you’re up and halfway to the door. “That’s bullshit, Seokjin. How am I supposed to live up to these expectations you’ve got of me if you never tell me what the fuck they are? You know, that’s—this is exactly what my family does, and you—you know that, what the fuck.”

“Hey, no—”

“I can’t belie—” Things go all glassy. Crystalline. You need to get out of here. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I’m sorry.”

“Wait—”

You press harshly into your eyes. You’re not going to cry over this. “Good luck, Seokjin.”

[THE CHOICE]

Things come full circle during another two a.m. crisis.

You’d stared at the ceiling. Scrolled mindlessly through your phone. Ignored Seokjin’s texts and thought about texting Hobi but decided it wouldn’t be fair and instead went cross-eyed watching some questionable late night paid program. Tried to disregard the crippling weight on your chest. Couldn’t. Thought about what Namjoon might do, because he seems well-versed in these sorts of crises, and looked up Sartre quotes on the internet. Got as far as one and quit, both because it hit too close to home and because all you can think about is your last two a.m. crisis.

Seokjin’s voice had been so soft. It wouldn’t have that same tenderness if you called him now and that stings, knowing you had a good thing, something velvet, and you let it go.

And still you think about Namjoon, about the ethics of conservation: when to preserve and when to let die. Does preservation ensure survival, or does it stave off the inevitable? It all gives you a headache, because nothing is guaranteed but that doesn’t mean you don’t try.

Jimin goes to Milan. Taehyung posts a selfie looking sad and beautiful on some balcony in Paris. You don’t want to be like them, doing some perpetual song and dance. Resisting an obvious thing.

Your brother answers on the second ring.

“Hello?” Groggy and confused. A voice you’ve heard a million times that still feels indistinguishable from a stranger’s.

“I can’t come to your wedding.”

A moment of silence, both literally and for your trust fund. “Uh, okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you rush out, because it feels important to say even if you don’t necessarily feel sorry. “I, uh—I am sorry, because I like your fiancée and I know this is probably a huge inconvenience considering your wedding is in a few hours, but I can’t—”

There’s some rustling. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to your brother in the middle of the night before. “It’s really fine.” He yawns. “This couldn’t wait ‘til the morning, though?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Why do you sound like you’re about to have a panic attack?”

A lightbulb moment: he doesn’t know. “I am. You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That Mom and Dad threatened to cut me off if I didn’t show up at your wedding with a date.”

More silence. Then, slowly, the trickle of laughter. Just a quiet snort at first, and you’re a little confused, wonder if you should be laughing too, if he’s laughing at you, and then it compounds until he’s nearly in hysterics. “Oh my god.” He’s almost shrieking. “Holy shit. That’s why you brought that guy to dinner, isn’t it? The one they hated?” It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound like this.

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking hilarious. Fair play.” You wonder why you’ve spent two-plus decades hating this man on the other end of the line. “Okay, then. Why can’t you make it?”

You talk until you’re hoarse: about the competition, the fake relationship that hasn’t been all that fake for weeks, about the trust fund and growing up under the weight of your family’s money and expectations and always coming in third behind societal ass-kissing and your brother. You’re not looking for an apology but you get one anyway. A heart-to-heart in a moment that’s not entirely built for one, because the sun is coming up and your brother is still getting married in a few hours even if you won’t be there to witness it.

“All right, I really gotta go, but listen: I’ll talk to them, okay? And I’m rooting for you. Maybe in a few weeks you and Seokjin can come over for dinner, if it all works out.”

“Yeah, sure.” You agree readily, and it’s nice to have someone that shares your name in your corner. “I’ll make sure he behaves.” Your smile drops, chest cracked in half. “If it works out.”

Your brother says goodnight and wishes you well. Hangs up, and the silence is deafening and consolatory. You think about the Sartre quote again: Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

Whatever happens, you think you’ll do just fine when it’s on your own terms.

Perhaps naively, you expected the day of your brother’s wedding—and subsequently Seokjin’s competition—to be gloomy. Of course, the weather is perfect. Mid-70s, light breeze, cloudless blue sky. When you’re wounded everything feels like an attack, so maybe before it would’ve felt like the universe was mocking you, saying look how beautiful and intact the world is when you’re falling apart, but you see something else.

You’d done a lot of thinking. Soul-searching and introspection and all those uncomfortable, vulnerable things you and Seokjin had talked about before, and you’ve made it to the other side, so a cloudless blue sky on a beautiful afternoon doesn’t feel like an attack. What you see is clarity being reflected back at you.

But it still takes a lot of courage. Instead of putting on a stunning, designer dress and painting on a smile to pacify your family and anyone else important enough to be granted entry, you’re pulling on normal clothes and normal shoes. It doesn’t matter if your hair and makeup are done. Everything feels wrong for a moment, like you’re forgetting something important, and you suppose that’s normal. This is arguably the biggest and most consequential decision you’ve made thus far in your life. No wonder you’re out of sorts.

Normally, this is where you’d compartmentalize. Tuck all that discomfort away for later: a problem for Future You. But that had been your go-to for years, and it did nothing but turn you into an emotionally constipated mess, so you’re done with that—trying to be done with that. Which is fine, because you don’t have a plan, not really, but sometimes it’s enough to simply show up, so that’s what you’re going to do.

Rejection is likely. You’re smart enough to know that, and you’re mature enough to accept it, if it comes down to it. But you don’t want Seokjin to feel rejected. Not again. That’s more important. So you’re going to show up, heart on your sleeve, and if he rejects you, fine, but you’re going to be there. And you’re going to cheer when he wins, even if your voice is drowned out.

Another packed event. It helps to feel anonymous when your sympathetic nervous system is working overtime like this. You’re trembling by the time you find a spot—a little out of the way, no room left on the bleachers. Seokjin probably won’t see you here, wouldn’t think to look, and it’s okay. You’re here for him but you’re here for yourself, too. Just to prove you can. Just to prove that you’re still human.

It all goes by in a blur. The skaters you don’t recognize, some you do. Scores that are both meaningful and meaningless until they aren’t. Seokjin’s name gets called and your stomach drops, but it’s okay. You see Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jeongguk, all nervous energy and bit fingernails and cautious smiles. They don’t see you, but it’s okay.

Two runs happen in a nanosecond. Seokjin holds steady in third. The guy sitting in first falls on his final run, and it’s best of three so you’re not breathing easy yet but your fingers start tingling with anticipation. The guy in second does well but nothing good enough to improve his score. Your phone’s blowing up in your pocket. Presumably your brother’s told your parents by now, and you can wait just a little longer to get cut off. What’s in front of you is more important, it is, and you know it when—

Call it divine intervention, but Seokjin looks up just as he’s about to drop into the bowl. Looks right at you, and the tingle spreads from your fingers all over. Another freeze-frame moment; the two of you are getting good at this.

He smiles. He wins.

Feels a bit like falling in love.

As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

#btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #bts imagines #bts scenarios #seokjin imagine #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x you #jin x you #bts fanfiction #bts fic #seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfiction #seokjin fluff

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raplinesprince · 7 months

Text

Libra | KSJ

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Genre: Non-idol AU

Synopsis: Jin surprises you with an unexpected gift on your birthday. One you'd always hoped for.

WC: 1.2k+

Posted: 18 September 2023

The air was crisp, the sky clear as you stared at the stars overhead. You just needed a few minutes, a breather, a little quiet. It was your birthday, another year swiftly passed and here you were sitting on the ridiculously overpriced outdoor couch on top of your friend’s rooftop to escape your own birthday party. You loved the gesture but so many people began to get a little too much. Hobi was hosting and he knew how to throw an amazing party.

Jin had wanted to take you out for a nice quiet dinner, that's what he'd suggested to Hobi but with Jimin's birthday just around the corner too, he simply HAD to make it a big get together.

So here you were staring at a bottle of Jack Daniels, millions of miles away from reality. Waiting for something to pull you back down but what you wanted would never come.

Or so you thought.

The sound of a door opening caught your attention but you hadn't fully pulled yourself back to earth. The wind brought that familiar scent to you, you knew immediately who it was. You didn't have to come back to reality just yet. You were safe.

“Mind if I join you?” Jin enquired as he walked over to you.

“It's peaceful here.” Jin assumed that was a yes and sat down next to you.

His eyes rested on you. You'd been friends with Jin for a while. He knew everything about you, remembered all the little things no one else ever cared about. There was a bond between the pair of you that neither of you had with anyone else. He loved you, but never said or did anything. The man full of confidence turned into a shy little boy whenever he was around you.

Jin had been a serial dater for the past several months. He'd come back to you complaining about how painfully miserable the date was, how dull the conversations went and if he was feeling particularly Jin-like on those days, they couldn't handle his personality. The last one you couldn’t even remember why they broke up. Something about him putting in enough time or effort.

In the poor girl's defence, he did spend most of their relationship with you.

"Too much?" He asked, pulling you back to earth when she slipped a stray hair behind your ear. Greeting you with a soft smile. "There she is"

You blush, covering your face.

"Don't do that!" He pulled your hands away, holding them so you couldn't hide again. "It's just Jinnie."

“I appreciate the surprise” You state, in defence of your departure. Your fingertips and Jin's absentmindedly playing with the others.

“I did try to tell him but he wouldn't listen,” Jin sighed, defeated in his tone. “I wanted to take you out, have dinner, maybe a movie or both and we could have cuddled up on the couch. Just the two of us. I don't like all these people around either.”

He wasn't shy about wanting to spend time with just you, nor was he shy about his love either, admitting just how much was the problem. Jin regularly said he loved you, but you, one of two idiots in this equation, only thought it was platonic, a close friendship, the two single friends making each other feel better. He squeezed your hand to make you look up at him instead of your intertwining fingers. He felt the alcohol burn in his throat or maybe it was the words he wanted to say and really mean them. Declare that, in fact, he did not want to be just friends with you.

“Thanks for my gift” You distract from your pounding heart as you lock eyes with him. He’d given you the prettiest new necklace, one he knew you'd been eye up for quite some time. Of course, chocolates and flowers too. Your favourites, without fail.

“You're very welcome,” he replied. "Always the best for my best girl."

Failing into a peaceful silence again, you pass the Jack between you both for a little while.

“Can we talk?” Jin said, breaking the silence.

You nod for him to continue. Clearly something was running through his mind.

“I haven't been entirely truthful to you” He admitted, blinking nervously. Jin lied to you? He would never. You'd lose all faith in him, and men in general, if he had. He was one of the only people in your life that would never betray you. Like he could see your mind going into a panic, he quickly continued. “I met someone"

“Oh, I'm happy for you.” You lie, heart shattering into tiny little pieces. You forced a smile regardless. You'd be happy for him no matter what.

“She's quite amazing actually.” You didn't know if you wanted to hear about this woman but his eyes lit up like dynamite and his smile was so big at just the thought of this woman, you didn't interrupt him. "She has all the right reasons to be a mean person but she's not, she's kind, patient and loving, even if sometimes people don't deserve it. I wish she knew how amazing she is and even if I told her until I was blue in the face, she probably still wouldn't believe me"

"She seems nice."

"I'm not finished" He shushed you. " You can share all of your secrets with her and know they are safe. She makes me laugh even when I don't want to laugh and without even trying too. She's helped me through some of my most difficult times and I'll never be able to tell her how thankful I am. She supports me, cares for me, loves me in ways I never thought anyone would even want too."

"Maybe you should be telling her this?" You felt sick at this point, blood boiling over a woman you didn't even know. Ready to tell your best friend and talk shit the minute the two of you were alone.

“Y/n, you’re my favourite person in this entire world, my best friend but I want to be more than that,” Jin admitted. What now? His heart raced as he scooted closer to you “I love you and I want to be yours.”

"That's not funny, Jin." You had tears welling in your eyes.

Without hesitation, he leaned in to kiss you. He could feel you smile into the kiss, his hand caressing your cheeks.

You eventually allowed yourself to break the kiss briefly “I’ve loved you for a while. Too Long” You confessed.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Why didn't YOU say anything?" You asked with a soft giggle.

“I... Yeah... Fair" He laughed, His brain scrambled for one coherent thought. Instead opting for the obvious...

His lips met yours again. You moved your hand from his face to his neck. His hands slipped to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. He didn't even care about the need for air until he heard applause, hollers and cheers from inside the house. The boys and their partners, which included your best friend, were standing behind the window. Your best friend and Hobi standing cuddled up with each other with shit eating grins on their faces.

“Finally!” Yoongi yelled.

His ears turned bright red, nuzzling his face in embarrassment into your neck as you let out a soft laugh.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” Jin looked at you once again with a soft smile before you pulled him in for another kiss

authors note: this fic was written for my amazing best friend, @lifeinakpopbubble's birthday. i wish you the happiest of birthdays and can't wait to see you open your gifts and spend the day with you!

i didn't plan on posting this so soon but she's impatient.

tags: @sopebubbles-read

#jin #kim seokjin #bts jin #jin fanfic #jin fanfiction #jin fluff #october 10th is her birthday btw #for my besties birthday #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #wwh jin #raplinesprince writes

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hot-soop · 5 months

Text

don't let me tempt you / ch.2

pairing: angel!seokjin x angel!f.reader ⇢ au: angels & demons ⇢ genre: forbidden romance, friends 2 lovers, comedy(?), fluff, eventual smut (not in this chapter), lite angst ⇢ summary: Seokjin is temporarily banished from Heaven and you're not all that good at paperwork. ⇢ chapter wc: 4k ⇢ rating: fic rating is explicit/18+ for eventual smut; chapter rating is 16 & up bc they're the equivalent of ken dolls rn, but minors please DNI anyway. This isn't for you. ⇢ chapter warnings: LOTS of religious imagery but please remember that this isn't meant to be accurate, it's crack Good Omens style nonsense. Author is an atheist. Swearing. Drinking. Implications of loss of faith. If there's any tags you think I'm missing, please let me know - I'd hate to be the cause of any upset or discomfort ⇢ a/n: thank uuuuuu @ugh-yoongi for reading this over, i adore you

chapter 1 here

chapter 2

736 BC

August 12th. 6:13pm. Sunshine.

It’s been ninety-one years and twenty-six visits to Earth since your first cup of tea. Since then Seokjin has shown you could enjoy so many more earthly pleasures than you thought possible. He makes an effort to show you something new every time you visit, and humans, as it turns out, are so much more creative than angels give them credit for. You’re really starting to enjoy it here. Every time, you wish you could stay longer. And so you learned you could convince Turiel to add routine patrols on all your banishments - by all accounts you’re only ever visiting Earth on ‘Official Business’.

(‘Managed to convince’ isn’t really the right turn of phrase, more like you briefly floated the idea and Turiel near bit your hand off to add more to your workload.)

Of course the visits mean more reports in theory, but truth be told there aren’t that many banishments to keep on top of, and you spend far less time with the other banished angels than anyone else need know. That isn’t the case for Seokjin’s visits. No, you could spend an entire day in his company and feel like it’s been no time at all. For those reports alone, you need to twist the truth.

Your stomach growls and Seokjin tuts.

“If you didn’t wait thirteen years between visits,” he grumbles. “Your stomach wouldn’t be so loud.”

You open your mouth to say that the only reason you have any interest in Earth is because of Seokjin and his friends (though maybe by now they count as yours too, it’s something you’ll have to ask Taehyung) but the sour look on his face gives you pause.

(Ah yes. Taehyung. Your readers will probably be wondering why he’s still alive. Well, they all are. As it turns out the change from human to vampire was irreversible, and all Seokjin had been able to do was make it so they’re not quite as immortal as angels and demons are. In short - one could kill the three of them with a stake to the heart, if they should wish. When you found out Seokjin had omitted the truth (his words) about their lack of demise, that had been the biggest (and only) argument you’ve had in the centuries you’ve known him. Jimin had cried. It was very embarrassing.

Of course, you’d moved past it, because there was little to be done to change anything, and you actually rather like the company of the vampire trio. Yoongi is another anomaly, he should be dead too, and he kind of- he sort of is. Seokjin calls him a ghoul. But having met him, you can’t say he’s as evil as the handbooks make ghouls out to be. A grouch, definitely, but you can see why Seokjin likes to keep him around.

Anyway, the point of this opening was not Seokjin’s lie of omission. The point is Seokjin’s current disposition.)

“Why are you in such a mood?”

“I’m not in a mood,” Seokjin shoots back.

“You are,” you counter.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Seokjin flicks you on the forehead.

“Ow!”

“Please stop,” snaps Namjoon from the corner of the room. “Some of us are trying to study.”

You crane your neck to spy on the book he’s reading. Heraclitian Philosophy.

Seokjin notices you looking. “Namjoon fancies himself as one of the new age philosophers,” he whispers. “He won’t listen but I keep telling him they’re a bunch of miserable fu-”

“I can hear you,” says Namjoon, pointedly.

You and Seokjin share a private smile.

“We missed you,” he murmurs.

“Missed you too,” you say, cheerfully.

You dip a spoon into the pot Seokjin is standing over, and he chastises you for tasting too early (it’s not ready, so he says) but it’s so good that you can’t help yourself.

“Mmm,” you hum, appreciative. “My favourite.”

He’s strawberry red again.

“Where do strawberries grow?” you ask.

Seokjin laughs. “You always ask such weird questions.”

You bonk him on the head with your spoon.

“Answer please.”

“Dunno,” says Seokjin with a shrug. “I haven’t seen any here.”

“In Europe!” Namjoon calls over.

“Thank you!” you shout back.

“Why do you ask?” says Seokjin.

“I want to try one.”

He tilts his head, a curious puppy if you ever saw one.

“I invented them,” you answer his unasked question.

“You?”

You frown. “Yes, me.”

“You made food?”

“I made lots of things.”

“But you didn’t try anything?”

“Well why would I? I made lovely things in pretty colours just like they asked and sent them off to Agriculture.”

Seokjin smiles sardonically, saying, “such a good little angel, aren’t you?”

You beam even though it’s a non-compliment, and Seokjin rolls his eyes, but this time the look in his eye is one of affection.

“What else did you invent?” Seokjin asks, and off you go, listing all the things in your roster until you lose your breath.

After dinner, Namjoon goes out to meet the others for a dinner of their own, leaving you and Seokjin sitting in front of an open window, sipping tea and catching up on the happenings over the last decade.

Seokjin seems down. He leaves his tea to go cold and picks at loose threads on his tunic.

After a while, you ask, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Your friend’s face falls into a dejected pout. “Time’s almost up,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Thirty years left and I’ve hardly been anywhere. Hardly seen a thing.”

Seokjin always claims he’s not sentimental, but you look at the home he’s built for himself, the friends he keeps, the trinkets that adorn the room, some four-hundred years old, and you deduce that there is little truth to that statement. What he isn’t is someone who tends to feel sorry for himself.

It’s unsettling, seeing him like this.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him. “Once you’re back home you’ll have your miracles, and you can have all of this and more in Heaven.”

Seokjin rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I’ll be there too,” you tack on.

His responding smile is a little pitiful, but a smile is a smile, and if that’s all he’s got, you’ll take it.

729 BC

January 28th. 6:56pm. Snowing.

Taehyung says he’s invented a game. It’s called truth or dare, and the objective is to tell the truth when you’re asked a question, or do something at the other player's request. Despite asking on several occasions, there seems to be no clear rules on how to win.

“This isn’t a criticism of your creativity, Taehyung,” you say gently. “But it seems as if there’s no real point in playing if your point scoring system is flawed.”

Taehyung stares at you. Jimin hides a laugh behind his hand.

“How do we know when to end the game if there’s no objective winner?” you ask.

They ignore you, and Namjoon suggests it would be better to write down the dares and questions and draw them from different jars. For yours, you write down things like eat exactly 2/7ths of an apple and what time is it?

Jimin pours drinks, because apparently there’s also ‘forfeits’ in the form of ‘taking a shot’ if you can’t answer truthfully or complete a dare, but you can’t imagine why either thing would be such difficult tasks to complete.

“Why would I lie, though?” you ask again. “It’s my job to be divine.”

“You’ve lied for me on more than a hundred occasions,” Seokjin reminds you.

“Nonsense,” you say, haughtily. “That was for the greater good.”

Jimin and Taehyung share a funny look.

Namjoon coughs. “Shall we just play?”

You grumble something about rules being made to be followed that the others pointedly ignore, and Yoongi is the first to draw from the dare pile, and Taehyung- who is reading over his shoulder- shrieks.

Run naked to the end of the street and back <3

Oh.

Yoongi turns as red as a ghoul can go (which is to say, not very) and says he’s glad he can turn invisible, and promptly disappears from view. The only suggestion that he even leaves the room is the door opening and closing. Jimin says pointedly that he bets Yoongi is still in the room, but a minute later the door goes again, and Yoongi appears once more at the table, pink-cheeked and panting. Jimin scowls like a child and calls him a spoilsport.

The game continues in this vein until Namjoon gets your dare.

“Put on socks?” he says, confused.

“Yes!” You nod. “It’s very cold.”

Seokjin laughs. “You really are an angel.”

You beam at him.

Namjoon goes to find socks.

“Stop making googly eyes at each other,” says an exasperated Jimin. “I’m bored.”

Taehyung nudges the jars toward Seokjin. “Your turn.”

He makes a drawn out show of searching for the best one while not actually looking, claiming he can tell who wrote it by the way they folded the paper. He pulls out one he says was ‘obviously’ written by Yoongi, but by the gleeful look on Jimin’s face, you wonder if it was really him.

“Kiss your favourite person in the room,” reads Seokjin. He stares very hard at the paper. He’s not even blinking.

Taehyung and Jimin break the silence with a giggle. Namjoon is back, with more socks on, and his eyes dart between you and Seokjin. And now your eyes have turned into curious little fiends too, looking from Seokjin to the paper to Seokjin to the paper, to your hands, which are suddenly very interesting for no reason at all.

Seokjin looks at you for a long time. Seokjin turns red. And then Seokjin kisses Yoongi on the cheek.

“Forfeit!” yells Namjoon.

723 BC

March 9th. 8:02pm. A little chilly, but not unpleasantly so.

Today, the cold weather has you craving kimchi jjigae, and Seokjin has only complained three-hundred times about it. He says he made a table full of food, he asks why you can’t wait until everyone else arrives, he says of course you’d want the one thing he hadn’t made. He makes it anyway, and mutters that none of his other friends are as demanding nor as needy, including Taehyung.

The reason for the sheer amount of food adorning the table is because today is Yoongi’s birthday, and Seokjin is throwing him a party. Even though he’s sort of dead… and doesn’t need to eat. (It’s both pointless and confusing.)

You sit in front of the fire, bowl of jjigae warming your belly, kicking your legs contentedly while you wait for the guests to arrive.

Seokjin is anxious. He adjusts the position of the furniture six times. He wipes over his ornaments twice. He sweeps the floor three times and shoots you a glare when you try to help by using a little miracle to evaporate every speck of dust in the entire house. Normally he appreciates the privilege your miracles bring, since he lost access to his own, not tonight apparently. At first you attribute his sour mood to the idea of people he hardly knows invading his space, because while Yoongi is the quietest being you’ve ever known, he’s somehow friends with everyone in a twenty-mile radius. But Seokjin has hosted before - it’s nothing unusual for him to play host for others and dissolve into the background once everyone starts enjoying themselves.

No. Something else is going on here.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

“Talk about what?” Seokjin mutters with a scowl, distracted by fussing over a china pot that’s apparently three millimetres out of place.

“Whatever it is that has you acting like you’re not enjoying my company.”

Seokjin looks up at you, expression unreadable. The silence hangs uncomfortably until it’s interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. It’s the first guests, bringing with them gifts of food and wine.

People filter in quickly after that. You don’t know many, but those you recognise offer a friendly hello or a polite bow in your direction. You tend to keep your distance from most people, at least those who don’t know your true identity as an Angel of the Lord, but you do enjoy their idle chatter. It’s ever so interesting, the matters that concern them, the small things that bring them joy in their (without any disrespect) insignificant lives. You’d tried engaging a human in conversation once, at a market Seokjin brought you to, but Taehyung had laughed and suggested you needed more practice interacting with people. After that you lost your confidence.

Perhaps tonight could be another opportunity, if Seokjin has enough wine to make his guests less suspicious.

You jump up, fetching bottles and cups from the other room and passing them around with a smile. The humans accept them gratefully. There’s nothing like alcohol to get people talking. Thirty minutes later the room is full, and loud, and everyone is on (at least) their third drink. With a wave of your hand, the guests' cups are refilled, and thankfully it’s only Seokjin that seems to notice. He waves you over from the other side.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Helping,” you say.

“We don’t need to get everyone drunk before he arrives.” He stares at the door.

“I don’t think Yoongi would mind,” you say. “Hasn’t he been half-drunk every time I’ve seen him?”

“Oh, not him,” Seokjin says absent-mindedly.

You frown.

“Who then?”

Just then, the door bursts open and a dishevelled Yoongi is carried through on the shoulders of Taehyung and Jimin, with a panicked Namjoon following closely behind - hands outstretched as if that would help Yoongi if he were to fall.

Everyone cheers. Someone pours them a drink. Seokjin continues to stare at the door.

Weird.

After leaving Seokjin to his own devices you decide to work the room and quickly discover how right you were about the alcohol. It’s been forty-five minutes and you can’t escape a man who doesn’t seem to know whose birthday it is, but is very glad for the opportunity to talk about his herd of goats and all the trouble he’s having with one particular fox.

“I wouldn’t mind if it was a one off but it seems like the bastard has it out for me.”

“That’s terrible.” You commiserate, trying to look interested while scanning the room in search of an out. The few people you know well enough to call for help from are otherwise occupied. Taehyung is pouring wine into Jimin’s open mouth. Yoongi and Namjoon are sitting around the table deep in conversation with an elderly woman and her husband.

“-usually one a day,” he says, slurring his words. “Sometimes two!”

“Awful,” you agree.

Seokjin is standing by the door, face impassive, talking out of the corner of his mouth to a man who wasn’t here earlier. He’s impossibly tall, doesn’t look like anyone else in the room, all sallow skin and sunken eyes. Seokjin has a wrinkle in his nose suggesting there’s a bad smell nearby. You’d bet your immortal soul it’s the man next to him.

“-at this point it’d take a bloody miracle to save my herd-”

“A miracle,” you echo, hardly listening, too busy looking at how the man holds out his hand. The eager gleam in his hollow eyes. How Seokjin’s lips curl with distaste but he shakes his hand anyway.

“I’m fucked if it carries on,” your companion says, voice breaking.

“Yeah,” you breathe. There’s a pit forming in your stomach. “Fucked.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, me too,” you say. “I’ve just got to- uh- go… Over there.” And you’re weaving through the people in the room to get to Seokjin and the stranger who has your hackles raised like no one else has had in centuries.

“Seokjin!” you say with false brightness, smile tight. “Who’s your friend?”

Seokjin turns to you, eyes wide and desperate.

“Not now,” he whispers. “Please.”

You stand firm, undeterred. “I’m Seokjin’s friend-”

And then the man turns his glare on you, and you see it. You smell it.

A demon.

You can hardly contain your gasp.

The demon grins. His teeth are unbrushed. “The angel says she’s your friend, Seokjin, and you haven’t told her what you’ve been doing? Who you’ve been talking to. Tut tut.”

Your gaze snaps to Seokjin who looks like he’s about to be sick.

“Told me what?”

“Not now,” Seokjin snaps.

You’ve never seen him like it, not once in three centuries. Face suddenly hard and unmoving. Not even during your fight about his friend's lack of mortality. The pit in your stomach grows. Something horrible is happening and you can’t figure it out.

“Go home,” he says, resigned. “We’ll talk later.”

“But it’s Yoongi’s birthday-” you start, but the hard line of Seokjin’s lips tell you your argument is pointless.

“He’s my friend, Angel,” he says, voice raising enough to attract a few looks from the people nearby. “Mine. Not yours. Go.”

Seokjin shouts. Shouts often, in fact. A drama queen if one ever existed. But Seokjin doesn’t shout at you. Not like that. One last wary glance between your friend and the demon at his shoulder, and you’re back at your desk wondering what in Heaven just happened.

723 BC

March 10th. 6:42am. Cold. Uncomfortably so, but perhaps that’s just the vibe in the room.

Seokjin doesn’t notice you’re back. But then he is fast asleep in his chair, several empty bottles at his feet. There’s drool running down his chin.

“Wake up,” you say. The miracle helps him along with stirring. You’re impatient this morning. He blinks awake, and upon seeing you standing above him, he groans.

“M’too drunk for this righnow.”

“Then sober up.”

Seokjin scowls and slurs in an accusatory tone, “you took my miracles, remember? You’ll hav-to wait for me to do it the human way.” He’s very green. “Pass me a bucket won’t you, m’gonna be sick.”

You arch an eyebrow, thoroughly disgruntled, and he groans louder as the alcohol dissipates from his bloodstream.

Now sheepish, Seokjin straightens up awkwardly. He doesn’t look at you.

“I don’t care for the way you treated me last night,” you begin.

Seokjin nods.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“I also don’t care for your meeting with demons.”

Seokjin shifts awkwardly, rubs at his forehead, but the apology you expected is noticeably absent.

You suck in a breath. “Aren’t you going to explain?”

He nudges one of the bottles on the ground with his toe, watching it turn on its side, letting the silence hang heavy around you.

After a minute, you can’t bear it any longer. “Seok-”

“Can’t you see I’m miserable?” he cuts in.

You sigh. “Well, yes I had noticed.”

You know it’s been a long time since he’s been home, there’s bound to be some apprehension about returning. But you’ll be there too. You’ve got sway with the committee now that you’ve been “putting in the work” with the banished angels, you can put in a good word for him, get him into a position that gives him more freedom to visit Earth now and then. You explain all this, but Seokjin shakes his head, but apparently that wasn’t a good idea because he holds it in his hands and groans.

“Angel, you don’t get it,” he snaps. “Why would I want to go back? Back to that place where they only give a shit about one corner of the world-”

“That’s not true-” you interject.

“It is true,” Seokjin insists. “The past four-thousand years it’s been Jerusalem this, Jerusalem that. Bethlehem and Jordan and Egypt.”

“They’re great places!”

“Yes, but everywhere else is great too. What makes one place better than the rest? What was the point of making all of this beauty if the one book of any importance doesn’t talk about it? If it’s just going to be gone-” He snaps his fingers. “-in two thousand years. All anyone goes on about is Noah, and Abraham, and Joseph and his stupid fucking coat! What is the point of me? Of us?”

“It’s in the plan-”

“Oh- who cares about a coat? What could the plan possibly say about that?” Seokjin is standing now, red faced and pulling at his hair. “What about these people?” He’s raising his voice again. “These people here? The people on the other side of the world? Where are their stories? Why isn’t anyone writing about them?”

“They will!”

“When?”

You don’t know. You don’t know anything.

“When it’s significant!”

“Isn’t everyone significant? Isn’t that the point?”

Yes. Yes and no. They’re obviously significant to each other, but not necessarily in the grand scheme of things. Seokjin doesn’t like that answer. His frown deepens when you suggest his faith is being tested.

“That was the stupidest idea they could’ve come up with,” Seokjin rants. “the notion of testing and tempting. No one can live without breaking one of these ridiculous made up rules or else our souls be damned for eternity. What’s the point? Be miserable for your entire life or be miserable for eternity. Can’t anyone enjoy anything without worrying for their immortal soul?”

“I don’t like this conversation,” you say.

“Of course you don’t,” says Seokjin bluntly. “Makes you uncomfortable, does it? You know I have a point and you don’t like thinking badly of our Heavenly Mother.”

You frown. “I’m not thinking badly of Her. It’s just- I don’t know. I don’t like it when you make me question things. We’re made to obey.”

Seokjin scoffs. His eyes are so unusually cold. “I don’t want to obey.”

Your breath catches.

“What are you saying?”

Seokjin hesitates. There’s a moment where you think he won’t say it, but then - “I hate it up there, Angel,” he says, and your throat goes dry and tight and uncomfortable as you remember the way the demon’s tongue rolled around the word angel, how it’s so different from the way Seokjin addresses you. You recognise the demon now, know him for exactly who he is and what he did to your friend. Leviathan, Prince of the Seraphim, tempting mankind and angels alike into heresy.

“You can’t seriously want to join their side?”

Seokjin’s face goes tight. “Of course I don’t. I want to be on my own side.”

There’s a beat of silence.

You stare at one another.

“I’m not going back,” he says, brows knitting together.

“You have to.”

“Angel-” he says it gently, with a tenderness so at odds with the way he spoke only moments before. “I can’t. I won’t be a hypocrite.”

“No-” you shake your head, reaching out and taking his hands in yours. He stares at you, confused by your insistence and your tears threaten to spill over. “Seokjin you don’t understand- if you don’t go back, they’ll know, they’ll kill you for defecting-”

“They can’t-”

“They can,” you insist. “Holy fire.”

Seokjin pales.

“You haven’t got your miracles. You can’t survive it.”

He drops your hands. Sinks into the chair behind him and stares blankly at the wall.

“Come back when you’re called, Seokjin,” you say, resolute. “For my sake.”

His eyes flit to meet yours.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” you say desperately, but you don’t know who you’re trying to convince at this point. It might be your home but Seokjin has never liked the way it’s run. But he’ll be safe, and that’s what matters. “I’ll help you.”

Seokjin smiles weakly. “Alright, Angel.”

“Another thing I don’t care for is the way you’re calling me Angel.”

“Why?”

You reach out, pick a loose thread from the shoulder of his tunic. “It implies we’re too different.”

“Aren’t we different?” he says.

He’s not looking at you. Instead his absent gaze is turned into the empty fireplace, staring at the ash left over from the night before.

“Not in that sense.”

Seokjin’s lips twist in a way that silently says not yet.

#ksj x reader #ksj fic #ksj x you #jin x reader #jin imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfction #jin fanfiction #jin x you #fic: don't let me tempt you #bee writes #jin scenario #jin imagines #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin x you

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tinylint · 2 years

Text

BTS Reactions - you keep getting disappointed by your dates and they are your best friend but secretly want to date you

---------------------------------Masterlist----------------------------------

Jin

You could not believe how sloshed your date was, he’d arrived to your date already buzzed and had already ordered 3 drinks since you two sat down to dinner. You told yourself you could handle it just fine but he started getting handsy, was not understanding the word no, and was significantly stronger than you.

You texted your best friend for a rescue, he lived just around the corner and you were pretty sure he was home tonight. You just had to keep the man in public until Jin arrived. Surely he wouldn’t do anything too unseemly in plain view of the rest of the restaurant?

‘SOS. Date is drunk and getting handsy. Can you rescue me? At the bar around the corner from your place.’

You tried to be discreet about sending the text and then realized it didn’t so much matter because your date was much more focused on your cleavage than on what your hands were doing.

Not 5 minutes later your date looked behind you and said “Wow that guy looks mad, wonder what’s wrong with him?”

That’s when you knew Jin had arrived. You turned around and you honestly had never seen Jin that mad, it was almost frightening.

Your dates amused face fell as soon as Jin stopped at your table and started shouting at him.

“What kind of absolute douchebag gets this drunk on a first date and tries to force himself on a woman? Well I guess that’s a hypothetical question because the answer is obviously you. You shitfaced jackass. You don’t deserve to look at this woman let alone have your hands all over her!”

Jin’s words tumbled out quickly as he grabbed your date by the lapels, pulled him up, and repetitively poked him in the sternum.

“Who the hell are you?” Your date slurred out in confusion.

“I’m her best friend and man you better be grateful we’re in public or I’d be beating the absolute shit out of you,” Jin towered over my date and then a beat later looked at me, his face melting only slightly. “You okay Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m great now,” I said trying not to laugh at how quickly my situation had turned from being worried about my physical safety to watching my best friend just verbally clobber this asshat of a man.

Unfortunately my reaction seemed to give my date some defiant courage and he tried to get back in Jin’s face (even though he was at least 4 inches shorter than him…). “Who are you to come and save Y/N? You’re just her friend, trying to be her boyfriend huh?”

You could tell that your date thought that would be a blow to Jin’s ego. The truth is you’d always wanted Jin to be your boyfriend, but he’d never shown interest in dating in general. You almost wondered if he was gay or asexual or something, he just seemed oblivious to it all.

“Maybe I am trying to be her boyfriend! What’s it to you!? You can bet that if I was her boyfriend I would never get drunk and try to get up on her without consent so I’ve got that over you.”

You gasped after the first sentence. Was he being honest or was he just trying to get in your date’s mind?

“Y/N, let’s go. This douche shouldn’t take up any more of our time,” he faced you while opening his wallet then threw some bills on the table. “This should cover your dinner and a cab home. You are not fit to drive dude.”

You stood up and followed Jin out the restaurant, incredibly aware of how many eyes were on you after his loud altercation. Even though he was still mad he bowed to the staff and apologized for the scene even though some of them even voiced their support for what he’d done.

You let a few moments pass while you walked on the sidewalk together before you asked your question.

“Did you really mean that? That you’re trying to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes!” Jin exclaimed, still sounding angry. “I can’t watch you date any more idiots! I’ve wanted to date you for months and I just keep hearing about all the dates you have with these absolute asshats and I can’t take it anymore! I would treat you so much better than that!” His indignant rage didn’t lessen through his whole speech though his lips did get more pouty, especially as he talked about how he would treat you.

“Well,” you said, grabbing his hand, “you’ve definitely tried hard enough. Jin will you be my boyfriend?” You smiled up at him.

He continued to pout at you but his gaze definitely softened. “It’s about time you asked.”

You were on your third date with a man who seemed promising. He had even asked you to go dancing to your favorite club! Things were looking up for the first time in a long string of bad dates.

Until.

After a drink or two and about 20 minutes of dancing you went to the bathroom. You came back to find your date dancing, nay grinding, on another woman. You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and waved to him to try to get his attention. He saw you, ignored you, and went back to dancing with the other woman.

Seriously? You finally thought you’d found a good one and this is what happened? Just then you got a text from your best friend, RM.

‘How’s the date going? Isn’t the third good date the one where you get lucky? 😘😉’

You texted back quickly.

‘Well it would be if my date hadn’t ditched me after 20 minutes and is now blatantly ignoring me while grinding on another woman 🙄😩🙃’

‘What!?’

His reply was almost instantaneous.

‘Where are you? Did he drive you? I’ll come and get you.’

You were a little surprised at his insistence on coming to get you. It’s not like he could drive you anyway, not having a drivers license and all…

‘No I’m fine Joon I promise! I’ll just take an Uber myself.’

‘Take an Uber yourself my ass, I’m at a cafe literally around the corner anyway.’

You resigned yourself to wait for him, honestly you weren’t looking forward to a car ride home all alone after such a disappointment.

‘Alright fine, but only because I don’t want to sit in a car by myself after being rejected so obviously 😭’

You sat at the bar near the entrance so you could see Namjoon as soon as he walked in and could get out of there.

Namjoon walked in a few minutes later and he was seething mad. You had honestly never seen him this mad, you’d never even really seen him anything other than lightly frustrated. This was a whole new side to him and you had to admit it was kind of hot. He saw you quickly and walked over.

“Where is he? Which idiot did this?” He asked gruffly, looking around the dance floor as if he could spot him on his own without knowing what he looked like.

“Joon no, don’t worry about it let’s just leave.”

Namjoon’s eyes darted toward you and darkened, “I’m not leaving until I give this guy a piece of…well…something.”

Your eyes widened and you weren’t sure what you could do other than point toward your date and the woman he had chosen to ditch you for. “He’s over there, in the green jacket.”

Without a word Namjoon set off in the direction of your date and with his long legs had covered the length of the dance floor between them quickly. He grabbed your date’s shoulder, turned him around to face him, and punched him square in the face.

What!?!? Did Namjoon honestly just punch another man in the face? Kim Namjoon? Your decade-long best friend who has never gotten into a physical altercation in his life? Who cares for bonsai trees and bought baby shoes for his future child just because they looked cute?

You barely had any time to think because Namjoon was soon back at your side, holding your elbow and guiding you outside of the bar.

“Namjoon!” You finally exclaimed once exited the club. “You just punched someone! What the hell?”

“You bet I did, and that little weasel deserved it. I can’t believe he ditched someone as beautiful as you to dance with that blonde. Everything about her was obviously fake. And the way you look tonight?” Joon’s eyes flickered to you, looking you up and down very quickly and then shaking his head, “must be out of his damn mind.” He nearly muttered the last phrase under his breath.

You blushed deeply and suddenly were incredibly aware of Namjoon’s hand on your elbow. His warm strong hand that had just punched a man in your honor. Normally you didn’t condone violence or anything, and you never thought you wanted to be a maiden in distress, rescued by Prince Charming but suddenly…

“Namjoon can we stop a moment?”

Namjoon stopped and turned toward you.

“Where is this anger coming from? I’ve had bad dates before, this isn’t even necessarily the worst date I’ve had. Remember the comic book guy? He was awful!”

“I know I just…” Namjoon hesitated and then sighed. “I just can’t take it anymore. I can’t watch you date all these losers anymore when you deserve someone so much better. Someone who will actually pay attention to you and care about you and…”

“Well hell Namjoon I want that too! But until I find someone who wants to date me that’s as great as my best friend here I’m shit out of luck aren’t I? I just have to keep trying.”

“What if….” Namjoon started, “…what if you did date me?” His eyes looked at you shyly but earnestly.

You involuntarily gasped at the suggestion, not because it was a bad idea, but because it’s something you think you’d always wanted him to say but never knew it.

“Never mind, just a joke,” he stuttered out after hearing your reaction. He started to walk away.

“No! Joonie, I really hope that wasn’t a joke,” you stopped him and turned him around to face you. “Because I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.” You smiled up at him. “So what do you say? Do you want to date me?”

He raised his eyes from the sidewalk slowly to meet yours, shyly meeting your gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, a smile slowly spreading on his face, “yeah I really do.”

You got on your tiptoes, put your hands on his broad shoulders and smiled at him.

“Well then come down here and kiss me you idiot.”

He smiled and leaned his head down just enough to meet your lips in the middle. Sweet and warm and soft, just liked they looked.

Suga

You cannot remember the last time you’d been this angry. Who did that douchebag think he was? You’d been in the middle of a perfectly fine argument (I mean, he was clearly losing but that’s not your fault) and he had the audacity to shake his finger in your face and belittle you?

‘You obviously don’t know what you’re talking about, I can’t believe you would have such an infantile opinion.’ He had honestly said that to your face! Not once stopping to realize that the “opinion” he was talking about was in fact a well-researched specialty from your masters degree. Like…where did this absolute douche canoe get off?

He had barely even finished his statement before you had stood right up and left, without any comment. Because if you did let yourself say anything you surely would have caused a scene and you weren’t really interested in that.

You angry walked halfway home until you realized you had to vent about this to someone or you would explode. You didn’t even have to think of who to call, within seconds you were calling Yoongi.

“What’s up Y/N, I thought you were on a date.”

“Oh I was about three minutes ago but he was so terrible I walked out in the middle of the date and am now power walking home. Fueled completely by rage.”

“Wow, I’ve got to hear about this. I love hearing about your rage. How close are you to my place?”

You look around you, you haven’t actually been paying great attention to where you were going in your rage walking and you weren’t so much walking toward your place as much as you should have been. But that did mean that you were now only a couple of block’s from Yoongi’s place.

“My sub-conscious must have been guiding me, somehow I am like two minutes from your apartment building.”

“Well then get the hell over here. I’ll have some shots ready, sounds like you might need them.

“Absolutely fucking right I will. Okay see you soon Yoongs.”

He ended the phone call with an unintelligible grunt. So wordy that Yoongi.

Soon I was in his kitchen, finishing my first shot and slamming the glass down so hard I was worried it would break.

“Whoa there Y/N, don’t take your anger out on my personal belongings!” Yoongi laughed. “Alright, tell me everything. I can’t wait to hear about this dude. I haven’t seen you this mad since you were in a conversation with a man telling you feminism was a government conspiracy.”

“Oh don’t you remind me about that guy, I don’t need to be any madder than I already am!”

I recounted the experience to Yoongi, recreating my date’s demeaning finger wag in my face to great effect.

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together and his eyes widened in shock, “this dude knows this is the exact thing your fucking masters thesis was on right? Like he was aware you are a literal expert on the subject?”

“Oh he definitely knew! We had talked extensively about my masters degree and thesis on this wretched dating app before he asked me out.

“Wow. This guy’s a real treasure.” Yoongi poured us another round of shots.

I swallowed the second shot with a little less ease than the first, now that my anger was ebbing the drink burned a bit more.

“Ugh, Yoongi, will I ever find someone who isn’t an absolute dick? A man who is not intimidated by intelligence and confidence and feels like he needs to somehow prove himself when all he’s doing is proving that he is an idiot?”

“Well…” Yoongi started but didn’t finish. Instead he poured himself another shot and drank it quickly.

“Well what Yoongi? Ugh, are you going to tell me that I’ll never find one? There are just too many trash men out there. What the absolute hell do I do?”

“I was actually going to say,” Yoongi started again, not looking at me but staring instead into his empty shot glass, “what if you’ve already met him?”

“What do you mean? You’ve heard about all the men I’ve met in this horrible thing I get to call my dating life, which one of them have I overlooked?”

“Well maybe it’s not someone you met in your horrible dating life, maybe it’s just someone you’ve known for a long time. Someone who answers your calls at 11 PM on a Friday night because he was anxiously thinking about how your date was going and feeling equal parts horrible for hoping it went bad and jealous because it wasn’t him.”

You looked at Yoongi for a long time before answering. It took a moment for your now lightly buzzed brain to fully comprehend you had heard.

“I didn’t overlook you Yoongi. I assumed you weren’t interested. I assumed you would have let me know…” you faltered realizing you had put all the responsibility on him. Because the truth is you definitely hadn’t overlooked him. In fact when you first starting talking to Yoongi you had wanted him to ask you out. He didn’t, but you two had quickly become friends, the moment passed, and you tried to push the attractions to the back of your mind. Yoongi was too great of a guy to not have around just because you couldn’t stop feeling fluttered over his smile. But had you ever even really showed him that you wanted him to ask you out?

“Oh come on Y/N, you know I’m not great with words. I liked you from the beginning but you seemed so content and happy without a boyfriend, I figured you didn’t even want to date anyone. And then when you started downloading all those dating apps again we had been friends for too long for me to say anything about it.”

“Well,” you took the shot glass out of Yoonig’s hands and set it aside to try to get him to look at you, “will you ever imply that you know more about my masters thesis than I do? Or insist that feminism isn’t real? Or call me a communist?”

Yoongi laughed and finally looked you in the eyes, “Y/N you know I’d never do those things.”

“Well then you’re hired. You’ve officially been promoted from best friend that I secretly have feelings for to official boyfriend. Do you accept.”

Yoongi smiled, slid his hand behind your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Well kisses to be precise, quite a few in fact. The shots had really loosened him up and it turns out his tongue was just as talented as you’d always hoped, slipping in and out of your mouth and warming you more than the shots ever could have.

When he finally pulled away he leaned back in to the side of your face, breathing in your ear and then quietly growling, “I accept. Now let’s make up for lost time.”

JHope

You’d been stood up. Again. How did this keep happening? This was literally the third time in a row and this time you’d had to pay a hefty sum for parking before realizing your date was never coming. You couldn’t decide which you were madder about, being stood up or having to uselessly pay for parking. You texted your best friend JHope as soon as you realized what was happening. You always text JHope about your dates, especially ones that you had met online. He was always worried about your safety and had forced you to share your location with him and also required texts before and after dates and sometimes even during if he was particularly nervous. He was such a good friend, you’re not sure how you could have gotten through all these bad dates without him to talk to about it. If you’re being honest you probably wouldn’t be going through all these bad dates if he was interested in dating you. But it never felt like you two were on the same page about that and was it really worth it to ruin the best friendship you had ever had?

‘Stood up again. And I had to pay for parking this time 😩’

You quickly received many texts from him in succession

‘WHAT!? What the hell is wrong with these guys!?’

‘He should have to pay you back for the parking, what a dick.’

‘I mean seriously, this doesn’t even make sense.’

‘Come to my place and let’s have a way better time than you would have had with him.’

You smiled at his texts. Jhope was a vigorous texter but you could tell that he was particularly enraged by your situation and it always made you feel better when he responded in a protective way toward you. It was nice.

‘On my way. Do you have alcohol? I may want to get sloshed…’

The response came at lightning speed.

‘What a stupid question, I always have alcohol. And let’s not get too sloshed , he doesn’t deserve a hangover.’

Fair. He may have gotten mad quickly but he was always able to keep his head when he was mad.

Within 10 minutes you were exiting your Uber and walking up to his apartment building. You were still stewing over all the dates that had been standing you up, going over and over all the possible reasons it was happening.

As soon as JHope opened the front door you splurged into those stewing thoughts.

“What’s wrong with me? Do they come, see me, and then turn around to leave? Do they do it all as a sick joke, thinking it’s hilarious that I would ever think I’m in the same league as them? What am I doing wrong? Do I need to lose weight? What’s wrong with my face? Whe…”

JHope put his hand over your mouth after letting the first few negative thoughts tumble out. He pulled you in the door, closed it behind you, and pulled you into a hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Whoa whoa whoa. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. There is, however, definitely something wrong with these ridiculous so-called men who keep leading you on.”

You breathed a sigh of relief but were slightly embarrassed to have tears in your eyes.

“Then why does it keep happening? It just seems like at this point it must be me instead of them.”

JHope stayed silent for a moment and laid his head on top of yours. His big, warm hands lightly rubbed your back.

“You just keep choosing terrible men, that’s the only thing you’re doing wrong,” he lightly chuckled. “Any man who doesn’t want to date you is an absolute idiot.”

You laughed lightly, “But wouldn’t that also make you an idiot? Probably shouldn’t say such a strong blanket statement.”

Instead of laughing along with you, there was silence from JHope. And with your head on his chest you could hear his heart beating faster and faster.

“Well I’m…I’m definitely not an idiot.” JHope said slowly.

You pulled your head back quickly and looked at JHope eye to eye. With bated breath you managed to say “Do you want to date me?”

JHope let a beat of silence go by, you could see some slight fear in his eyes before he answered “Yes.”

You smiled widely. You can finally delete the apps. You can finally have a functioning relationship, because you know that a relationship with JHope will be full and happy and communicative. How could you not have a good romantic relationship with the best friend you’ve ever had. Especially when he’s as good looking as JHope.

“Well then why have you been letting me date all these duds when I could have been dating you all along?” You playfully flicked him on the chest.

Jhope’s smile was a slow one as he realized what you said likely meant.

“Hey Y/N, do you want to date me?” He formally asked.

“Absolutely I do.” You answered with a smirk.

Jhope’s eyes brightened. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you suddenly got very nervous, the good kind. “Yes,” you answered with much less confidence than the previous question.

First JHope’s thumb swiped over your bottom lip, his eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips. As soon as he started to lean in you closed your eyes, mostly because you were nervous.

His lips were just as warm and soft as you’d always imagined. The kiss ended far too quickly for your tastes, and apparently he also regretted ending it because no more than half a second after you had separated he said “Can I kiss you again?”

You smiled, opening your eyes and seeing his beautiful face. Eyes still closed, eyebrows furrowed from the previous kiss.

“Please,” you responded, closing your eyes again and leaning back in.

Jimin

You knocked on Jimin’s door after yet another disastrous date. This time with a man who had claimed he was an entrepreneur when really he was just knee deep in an MLM. And when you’d refused to kiss him he’s gotten indignant and angry. You almost shut his damn hand in your car door. The nerve.

Jimin opened the door smiling when he saw you but then his face quickly fell, “Y/N! What are you doing here? Wait…aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“It was horrible Jimin! Another absolute dud!”

He stepped back and let you into his apartment. You were here often enough that you knew where to find a spoon and ice cream. Ice cream that was always your favorite flavor and you could tell he never touched and clearly was in his freezer just for you and nights like this.

Once you were settled on his comfy couch, leaning back, with your legs draped over his you told him all about the most recent terrible date. He gasped at all the right places and rolled his eyes at all the right places and dissed the dude at all the right places. Ugh. He was the perfect best friend. The perfect best friend who also happened to be uncomfortably beautiful. Sometimes it hurt just to look at him, like your eyes wouldn’t quite allow themselves to focus. But you were letting yourself get distracted.

“Well sounds like a real loser and aren’t you glad you didn’t spend more than one date to figure that out?” Jimin responded after hearing the whole dreary affair.

You sighed loudly, “I guess so. I’d just love to go on a date that wasn’t absolutely terrible for once.”

Jimin signaled for you to turn around so he play with your hair, which he knew relaxed you. You turned around and fought the urge to just fully lean back into his chest.

As he gathered your silky hair in his hands he said, “Y/N these men just don’t deserve you, they don’t deserve your attention and stress.”

“Oh Jimin you always say that. According to you no one deserves me! How will I ever find someone if they’re all beneath me?”

There were a few moments of silence while Jimin gently braided your hair before quietly saying “I’d like to deserve you.”

Thankfully you weren’t facing him, your eyes widened in shock and your cheeks blushed furiously. You didn’t know how to respond and accidentally left his confession lying out in the cold air.

“I just think, I mean I know, I would work hard for you and try my best to be the best boyfriend. I would always listen to you and take care of you and care about you and calm you down and…I would try so hard for you. You deserve someone who wants to try for you. I would do that.”

His speech brought tears to your eyes and you finally got the courage to turn around and face him.

“Oh no! Did I make you cry!? I didn’t mean to I just…” Jimin started but you stopped him before he could finish apologizing for being the absolute sweetest man on the planet.

“Shut up and kiss me Jimin.”

And so he did, a kiss that was fiercer than you expected for such a soft declaration. A kiss that implied a lot of patient waiting behind it. But you were so glad he had waited.

You’d just come home from the worst date in….well in at least the last couple of months. And that was a hard title to get. You’d been going on at least a date a week in the last 6 months, desperately trying to find a solid person and relationship. There had been a few okay dates, but wow, a lot of terrible ones. You tried to laugh off the bad ones but the past four or five have been so appalling that they just made you come home depressed.

So you did what you always do when you’re trying to process but you come home to an empty apartment and no one to talk to. You post about it on your insta stories. Sure it’s not the greatest way to do it but you always get lots of validation from your other friends about how men are terrible and that’s what you really wanted right now.

Well…that’s one of the things you wanted right now. But what you really, really wanted was something you didn’t like to admit even to yourself. You really wanted your best friend, Taehyung to see our insta story and finally realize that he wanted to date you so you could stop going out with all these schlucks. So after posting your story you checked every few minutes to see if he had seen it. About 10 minutes after posting you saw that he had viewed it. This gave you at least some satisfaction, but he didn’t even send a message about it. Dang.

You got in your sweats and decided to get on the couch, cuddle your dogs and watch your comfort show for the umpteenth time. About 10 minutes into the show there was a knock at the door. Who could be at your house at this hour? Your dogs were just as confused as you were and barked up a storm. But then you heard a “don’t worry it’s just me” come from behind the door.

Once your dogs heard V’s voice (they’re obsessed with V) they stopped barking and started whining, waiting for you impatiently to let him in. You opened the door to see V wearing a perplexed face.

“What the hell is up with all these terrible dates you’ve been having? I can’t stand it anymore Y/N!”

“You can’t stand it!? Look at me! I’m in my PJ’s watching Netflix while I should be out there getting sexed up by some beautiful man. But here we are.”

V pushed past you and into your house, “I couldn’t agree more.”

You closed the door and followed him as he made himself at home in your front room. You and V had been good friends for a while, long enough for your dogs to love him, long enough for him to know the layout of your kitchen cupboards and where you kept your extra blankets. And long enough for it to seem like perhaps the moment to try for anything other than friendship had passed.

V sat on the couch and looked at you with a determined look on his face. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“We!?” You laughed at him, “since when are you suddenly part of this process?”

“Well I think I need to be part of this process, since you’re obviously not figuring it out. Sit down and let’s figure out how to find you a, what did you say? A beautiful man to sex you up?”

You laugh and sit next to V. “That’s the idea.”

“How about this for a brainstorm, let’s both write lists of the kind of man we think would be perfect for you and then compare them. You must have a defective list, which keeps landing you defective dates.” He pulls out his phone and motions for me to do the same.

You sigh loudly, “Fine.”

“Alright, three minutes and then we’ll swap lists.”

The three minutes were more or less agonizing. You wanted to be honest in my list it would it be painfully obvious that you were largely describing V? You decided to just throw caution to the wind and be honest. By the end your list mostly looked like a list of qualities you liked about him. Some of them even referred to specific experiences you’d had together. But you figured you’d be reading them out loud to each other, so you could self-edit to make it seem less like you were pining for him.

A beeper sounded.

“Time’s up! Hand your phone over!” V shouted with he voice of some kind of game show host.

My eyes widened, but before you could protest he’d grabbed your phone out of your hand and shoved his in yours.

It took you a moment to be able to effectively read anything on the screen because you were just freaking out about the fact that he was reading yours. But then your eyes glanced at the bottom of the list and you saw the last thing on his list.

‘Me’

Your eyes shot up to him. As soon as your eyes were on him he looked up at you.

“Did you read it already?”

“Not all of it, but I did catch a glimpse of the end.”

“Well? What do you think? Whose list do you think is better?” He asked trying to be suave but you knew him well enough to sense his nerves, waiting for your answer.

“I think both lists are the same. I was just describing you in my list V.”

He smiled, “I was hoping so. I couldn’t imagine you’d had an incident in an ice cream shop with anyone else quite as specific as the one you’d described here.”

There was an awkward silence while you both tried to decide what to say or do next.

“So…are you going to delete all those dating apps?” He asked, waving your phone in front of you.

“Absolutely, in fact, I’ll let you do the honors,” you bowed and gestured toward your phone, presenting it to him.

His eyes lit up with something like maniacal glee. “If I get the deleting honors, then I also get to read through your message threads on them. Just so I can know exactly who to compare myself to in the future. You know, to keep reminding you that you made the right choice dating me,” he quickly starts scrolling through the first dating app he finds.

You shriek and try to take the phone away from him but he has already starting reading out some particularly embarrassing flirty messages and you’re quickly laughing too hard to fight back. You decide to just give in. You lay your head on his shoulder while he scrolls. His free arm snakes around your shoulders and you wrap your arms around his waist, melting into his side.

“You really did write a good list V,” you closed your eyes and smiled, breathing in his scent and feeling relaxed for the first time in months.

Jungkook

You’re not really sure how you got yourself in this situation. You were on a second date with a guy you’d had misgivings about on your first date but you couldn’t point to anything concrete so you gave him the benefit of the doubt and accepted a second date.

40 minutes into the second date at a bar near your house and it was becoming obvious what your misgivings had been about. This guy was handsy, and while you were generally comfortable shutting men down your date was just drunk enough to not really understand that you were shutting him down and kept boxing you in, not letting you leave.

Just as you were about to flag down the bartender to help you out of your situation you saw a finger tapping on your date’s shoulder. What was happening?

You looked behind your date to see your lifelong best friend Jungkook. Wait, Jungkook? What was he doing here?

Your date turned around and looked at Jungkook, “What do you want?” He asked testily

“I want you to step away from Y/N and then walk your ass right out of this bar. I’ll even pay your tab for you, which based on the smell of your breath must be pretty high. Just get the hell out of here and keep your hands to yourself.” JK spoke evenly only thinly veiling his anger.

“Or what?”

Instead of answering, Jungkook kept his eyes on my date while grabbing a couple of walnuts from the bowl of nuts on the bar. He raised his hand in front of my date’s face and cracked the walnuts one-handed. “I don’t think you want to know the or what,” he glowered, his anger bubbling to the surface more obviously.,

My date looked at me, “Who does this guy think he is?”

I answered before Jungkook could get any angrier “he’s my best friend and I’d listen to him if I were you. And until you learn how to understand the word no please lose my number.”

After glancing between you and JK for a few seconds your date finally decided to give in and leave. “You’re a fat bitch anyway,” he murmured to me as he left. I had stand in front of JK to make sure he didn’t jump the guy.

“He’s not worth it Jungkook, I know I’m not a fat bitch. Just let him go.”

Once he’d left JK and I sat down at the bar. “What the heck are you doing here?” I asked him.

“I was just checking on you…you had told me you got bad vibes from this dude and honestly I didn’t trust him. I know you can take care of yourself and all but…”

“No, I’m glad you came JK. I like to think I can always take care of myself, but I was in a pretty tight situation there. I really needed you.” You looked at your best friend with grateful eyes. What would you do without him? Why couldn’t he just date you so you’d never have to have these bad dates again?

“I’m always here for you Y/N. I always have been and I always will be.” Jungkook put his hand on top of yours and looked in your eyes. It gave you just enough courage.

“Have you ever thought…have you ever considered…” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish your question.

“About whether we should date?” He finished, still looking at you earnestly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve definitely thought about it. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I came here to check on you because I was at least a little bit jealous. Especially when you didn’t even have that great of a time with him on the first date. How can a douche like that get a second date when I can’t even bring myself to tell you how I feel?” Jungkook confessed too quickly for him to regret it.

“And I’d be lying if I said that I’ve often thought about how stupid it is that I have to try to date a bunch of terrible men when all I want to do is spend time with a perfect one like you.”

We both smiled at each other for a moment, those goofy smiles you get when something wonderful has happened and you can’t quite believe it yet.

“Do you want to go back to my place…for some ramen?” JK asked mischievously, with a boyish glint in his eye.

“Definitely,” I answered with a smile. “But can it also include actual ramen? Because I am honestly hungry,” I laughed nervously, in anticipation of the non-ramen eating activities he was suggesting.

“I guess we can eat some actual ramen first. It will give us the strength we need…” he winked, grabbed my hand, and led me out of the bar to what became the best first date of my life. And hopefully the last.

---------------------------------Masterlist----------------------------------

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jinkookspencil · 2 months

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i got you | ksj

back from his service, jin tests out his strength and a theory of his

tags/note: jin x chubby / plus size / curvy reader (f) / fluff + suggestive / established relationship (they're engaged!) / low-key seokjin has soft-dom loving energy here but it doesn't get that steamy

wc: ~1.3k words

description/note: just domestic fluff in the kitchen / spoiler alert for jin's theory: he's sure he can carry his fiance and wants to try it out / no mentions of insecurity on yn's part, she just doubts jin can actually do it / intended with a plus sized woman in mind, but i think you can read and relate even if that doesn't apply to you? as long as you have any doubts that jin can carry you lol / no mentions of idol life, this jin can be whatever you want him to be / they're in the kitchen and jin had been cooking but no other mention of food / i actually wrote a jk version of this first but i will post that second - very soon, it's basically done! i have such a thing for fics based around jin's return i miss him yall / i shared an update post recently detailing where i've been and how i'll be with this blog moving forward! /also, happy valentine's day, here's a lil love from me and jin to my fellow chubby/curvy/plus-sized beauties!! <3 again, jk version coming very sooooooon! / update: jk version available to read here!

The clang of pots and pangs echoing through your apartment warmed your heart. It was an irritating sound when heard regularly, of course, but considering how long it’s been since you’d had your fiance messing about in the kitchen… it was more than welcome. Following the noise, you find Seokjin with his back turned to you, cleaning his used kitchenware and cutlery in the sink and quietly humming a tune. You cursed yourself for not peeking in earlier just to see the man in action - it always was a turn-on seeing Seokjin’s dedicated, sweaty, albeit chaotic cooking. This still did something, though. Hopping onto the freshly cleaned marble-topped kitchen island, you take it all in: the faint smell of something delicious in the oven, the sound of the gushing tap water, more clangs of metal on metal, but you really focus on the man that stood before you. Your man. His adorable growing hair was too short to be long, too awkward to be short. His broad shoulders and new muscles now pressed through his tee instead of his bones. His silver singing voice, even as a gentle whisper, which you hadn’t realized abruptly stopped.

“Drink it in. I’m enjoying this just as much as you are.”

You wonder what gave it away. The sound of your footsteps, the ruffle of your pajama fabric, or perhaps an admiring sigh you hadn’t noticed escaped you. It didn’t matter. You were enjoying the view, surely, but it was even better now when he turned to face you, a shy smile on his face.

“Missed cooking that much?”

“Cooking, yes, I missed being in the kitchen. I don't need to tell you how much I fucking missed your bratty ass, but what I meant was that I am enjoying you. I’m elated I finally have my girl and soon-to-be wife ogling me instead of the men at the base.” He chuckles, turning away and hiding a sudden shyness while drying his hands with a kitchen towel.

“And I'm elated just to be with her... Now that that’s done…” he whispers, undoubtedly ready for what you were with his hands and eyes on your plush thighs, his fingertips toying with the hem of your pajama shorts.

“It’s like you read my mind,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to pull him in for a kiss, only for him to pull away.

That was a first. Since Seokjin was back, at least. The two of you barely kept your hands off of one another….

“Or not…” you ask curiously, cupping his face in your hands. “Seokjin?”

Your fiance silently continues tracing the skin of your plush thighs, squeezing the flesh in his hands. He exhales before doing it once again and finally looking up at you.

You jump from the counter and face him, trying to look into his eyes, but he’s lost in thought. You pull his hand to lead him to the bedroom, but he doesn’t budge.

“Seokjin…?” you ask once again.

“Jump back on the counter for me, love.”

You do.

“Wrap your legs around me, honey.”

“Well, I was going to anyways,” you say, following his orders. “In there…”

“I’ll take you there.”

“What? No!” you shriek, unwrapping your legs from his body.

“Yes, come on, honey,” he says, his voice steady yet soft as he reaches for your leg.

“Seokjin, you cannot carry me,” you say, now pushing him away while he tries to tug you closer.

“Yes, I can,” he insists with a sternness to his voice that reminds you where he’d spent the past 18 months.

“Just because you’re all buff now doesn’t mean you can carry me, stupid. I’m still big, you know?”

“Well, guess who’s also big now? I mean, I always was, of course,” he says with a giggle and a flushed face as he raises his brow and tilts his head downwards, reminding you that he’s still your Seokjin. You promptly roll your eyes with a smile, pinching his arm. He regains his composure in mere seconds, a hand brushing your hair and tilting your face up towards his.

“I will admit that I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it before enlisting, but… I can now, honey. I can.”

“I don’t want you to,” you pout, unable to meet his gaze no matter how intense you knew it was, so knew it was best to shut it down as quickly as possible. Seokjin never forced you to do something you didn’t want to do…

“You.. why not?”

“Because in the case that you try to carry me but then realize you cannot, we could drop to the floor and one or both of us will get hurt. You could get hurt physically since I have padding and you don’t. I’d get hurt mentally, and I’ll be so fucking embarrassed that it was because of my weight.”

“The number of things wrong with that…,” Seokjin tsks, cupping your face and forcing you to look him in the eye. “First of all, I can carry you. Second, muscles are a form of padding, too, idiot.” He pokes your forehead and puts your hand on his shoulders to feel how strong he’d gotten while he takes your soft thigh in his hand. “I can take it, sweetie - all this tells me is I haven’t told you just how much work I did in the service. Third, it’s not because of your weight - nothing ever was. It’d be because I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Seokjin… I don’t know.”

“And you have nothing to be embarrassed about, my love. Ever. I mean… it’s me. I’ve seen and touched you in the most ungodly ways possible, and this would be what would embarrass you? Falling? When I-?”

You shake your head and interrupt him with shushes - nothing he could’ve said would have helped his case. “Can’t we at least put a mattress down or something? In case we fall?”

“Babe, this isn’t Jungkook’s apartment. We don't have an excess of mattresses here…”

The comment makes you giggle.

The way Seokjin rubbed your skin calmed your racing mind.

The kiss he plants on your lips reminds you that this is home.

This is safety.

This is love.

“Just trust me,” he whispers.

You nod, allowing Seokjin to wrap one of your legs around his torso and then the other. His hands sneak their way between your thighs and the marble countertop, digging into your plush skin already. You’d expected Jin to start a countdown, ease you into it at least… but before you knew it, his head was nestled in your chest, and you were off the counter, held up high in his arms.

A loud shriek escapes you, making your fiancee giggle beneath you.

“See, love? I got you...”

He was holding onto you securely, with no sign of any struggle on his part…. If he had been struggling with the weight of you, he hid it well…

“The view’s nice up here,” you smile, resting your head atop Seokjin’s when he finally looks away from you and buries his face in your flesh, kissing and biting you there.

“Seokjin, I can’t smell your shampoo anymore. When was the last time you showered?”

“Mm,” he says against your skin. “Fuck, that’s… that’s a perfect idea, honey,” he says, wide-eyed and excited, though he misunderstands. “It’ll be like a movie scene. But first…”

Seokjin dashes towards the bedroom with you still in his arms, shrieking until he plops you down onto your shared mattress.

“Safe?” he teases, pretending to check your body for any bruises before you pull him towards you until he’s leaning over you, his face a centimeter away from yours, with his hands already all over your soft body.

“Safe,” you say happily.

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ahundredtimesover · 2 years

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The Light of Dead Stars (09) | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x (f.) Reader; side Seokjin x (f.) OC; side Reader x Namjoon

Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, fake romance, boss/workmate aus; angst, drama, fluff, smut; slow burn

Chapter Warnings: Foul language; alcohol consumption, being passed out drunk; hurt and crying (18+)

Chapter Word count: 12.3k

A/N: Thank you for joining these idiots’ frustrating journey and loving them through it all. Here’s my favorite chapter for you to enjoy! 💕

Also, thanks to anon for recommending Sunday Crossword by J.Maya, and to my lovely friend, 🍧 anon - How Can I Love the Heartbreak by AKMU fits in that last scene.

Series Masterlist | Muse Moodboard | Setting Moodboard

Status: Complete

Series summary: Your unconventional arranged marriage with your company’s President, Kim Seokjin, is necessary, practical, and simple - both your families benefit, and he minds his own business and so do you. But when a slip-up causes his parents to believe that you and he are in love, you have no choice but to pretend you are, especially with the trip to France for his brother’s wedding coming up. When you get back to Seoul, things start to change, and Seokjin is faced with the most difficult decision he has to make.

The moon was full last night. You think it’s a silly game that the universe played on you.

How many stars does it take to light up the sky? Jin had asked when he took you to the Han River after you recovered from your infection. But all you need is one moon.

He made you think a lot then. If he’d already felt something for you that time, maybe he was trying to tell you that it could be him.

Beautiful but closer, you recall. You should’ve thought harder and seen through the quality time and affection much earlier; maybe it wouldn’t have caught you off guard, maybe it wouldn’t have hurt this much.

The truth is, you’re unsure what hurt the most.

You two were going somewhere, and for a marriage built on a lie and a romance that you faked, it was quite ironic that all you wanted was for him to be honest. But that mattered a lot - you were both lying to everyone else, that’s why it was important that you weren’t lying to each other.

The sequence from that time you got the message from your brother, to the thought that Jin was probably still seeing Seri behind your back, to learning that he wasn’t but that he still lied about her, and then finding out that he’d been in love with you this whole time… it all felt too much. Perhaps one to two would be bearable, but all of that and all at once? It was too much for your stubborn, guarded heart to take.

He looked sorry, sure, but it doesn’t take away from what he’d done and what happened. How long was he going to keep it all from you? If you did reciprocate, did he plan on eventually telling you everything?

Perhaps it hurts as much because you trusted him. That’s when it starts going to shit, actually - once you trust someone, you give them the power to break it. And he’d done just that. Every action of his meant something more to him, and you’d been going on unknowingly, thinking he was trying to get over Seri, without knowing there were other motives to how he’d been acting with you recently.

You release a long breath as you continue to make sense of everything and all that you’re feeling, as your brother advised. You called him last night after you calmed down a bit since he’d been messaging nonstop after you hung up.

“Just give yourself time,” Hoseok said. “And give him time, too. I don’t know about him but it’s been a while since you got into a conflict like this with somebody you cared about as more than a friend so don’t rush it. You don’t want to say something you’ll eventually regret.”

You took that to heart, which is why you decided against telling your best friends about it first since the wound is still fresh. It’s also why you couldn’t sleep and only realized when you woke up this morning that you left the TV on a sports channel on mute.

Your brother’s right; you’re quite rusty when it comes to managing personal conflicts. But then again in the past, you always made yourself small and was the one who gave way so the issue wouldn’t get bigger, and that’s why it was hard to stand up for yourself during the times it got too much, and why you forgave too easily, and why you buried the pain for the other person’s comfort.

It took long before you could unlearn those, and it just sucks that Jin is the least deserving of this treatment, but you just find it hard right now to understand his side.

You move around the bed and hug the pillow, finding another comfortable position so you could try to fall asleep again - which is really what you plan to do all Sunday - when there’s a light knock on the door.

“Mrs. Kim, it’s me.”

You quickly open the door to see Mrs. Kang with a tray of beef bone soup and rice, and the scent is enough to make you forget the crisis you’re in even for just a short while.

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring it up here,” you say, taking the food from her and placing it on your desk. “I could’ve, uh, well…”

“I just figured that you wouldn’t be leaving your room for a while after last night,” she says quite shyly. “Mr. Kim hasn’t left his room, too, and—”

She stops at your wide-eyed reaction. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross a line. It’s just, uh…”

“You heard us last night?”

She nods.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kang, if we disturbed your sleep. Seokjin and I aren’t in a good spot right now. But I appreciate you bringing this over, thank you.”

She looks like she wants to say more but she stops herself, and you appreciate that, too. She bows and leaves you to your meal, and like you hoped, the tasty broth and soft beef brisket calm your mind and your body a little bit. It’s probably already the highlight of your day and you’re barely halfway through it.

Almost an hour later, you open the door to leave the tray outside, when across the hall, you see Mrs. Kang take a tray from Seokjin as well.

He sounds gruff but you hear him clearly. “Has ___ eaten?” He asks.

“I’m just about to ask for her tray back, Mr. Kim, but she looked pleased with what I prepared.”

“Okay, good,” he responds. “Ask her what she wants for dinner and you can prepare the same for me. We’ve still got beef and prawns, some scallops and squid that she might like. Thank you.”

You quickly close your door and wait for the knock before you return the tray.

“What would you like to have tonight?“ Mrs. Kang asks.

“Just naengmyeon,” you respond. “And some boiled pork, please.”

The older woman sees you glance at the door across the hall, and any fear she had last night that you and Seokjin would be over fades a little.

You still clearly care for each other, choosing the other’s favorite dishes to be served because you know how much food makes you both happy. She just wishes that it wouldn’t take too long for both of you to realize just how much the other cares. She hopes it’s not too late for the two young people she’s come to care for like her own.

You’ve never been so bored in your life. Usually, you enjoy idle time - you get to just scroll through your social media for some dish or product inspiration, or read a book. But neither is working in keeping your mind preoccupied, as it constantly shifts to the man across the hall, probably gaming or watching TV.

You try to recall everything you did in France and everything you did after. Thinking about them now, maybe you could’ve been more observant so you could tell exactly when things started to change, but you were going with the flow and spending half the time enjoying yourself there, and the other half feeling guilty. He had been the one who made sure you got to savor your time there and reminded you that everything was going to be okay.

Any hints of more or different on your end from them didn’t seem to matter much. Sure, you got to see just how hot and handsome he is; you got to see his playful nature. You felt just how comfortable it was for both of you, and you told hold him as much, but they all seemed quite trivial - nothing to completely shift your thoughts or make you rethink everything. You wonder what it was that did it for him, and you wonder how differently things would’ve been if he told you about it then.

You try to enjoy dinner but can’t help imagining Seokjin’s excited face. His cheeks go out and angle a certain way since he has a tendency sometimes to stuff his mouth with food, especially if it’s his favorite. He has this satisfied smile, too, like all is well now that he’s eaten. You try to rid yourself of those thoughts but it proves to be more tiring; you’re glad it helps you sleep better that night, though.

The next morning, you purposely take longer to get ready, knowing that Seokjin has a schedule to follow and must leave the house at 7AM. During the times when you can’t get up that early, you agreed that he could just leave without telling you and you’d drive yourself to work, and that’s what happens, as you hear him walk down the stairs and call out to Mr. Lim. You do have a feeling that he knew you wouldn’t want to be riding with him, though.

You head to the driveway to get in your car when Yoongi standing by it startles you, knowing that Seokjin needs to have his assistant for his usual rundown of his schedule every morning.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” You look at the man curiously.

“I’m here to take you to work,” he replies, his face a little softer than usual.

“Did Seokjin ask you to do this?” You frown.

“No, I offered.”

“Here to apologize on your boss’ behalf and advocate for him, is that it?”

“I’m his secretary, ___. I follow orders and do what he says, but I’m also his friend, and as his friend, I call him out on his bullshit,” Yoongi explains. “I did so when he started developing feelings for you, and even more when he lied about Seri resigning.”

“So you knew all this time? Doesn’t that make you complicit?” You argue.

“No,” he huffs. “It makes me respectful of my boundaries and the relationship you both have. But like I said, I’m still his friend and I hate seeing him act like he’s losing everything good in his life because he screwed up.”

“Why are you here then? Doesn’t he need you more?”

“I spent my Sunday listening to his voice messages; I think I’ve heard what he wants to say. I just felt like maybe you want to do that, too, with someone who also knows his side,” Yoongi reasons. “And also, just in case you’re not in the mood to drive; we can take the Genesis. But if you are and you prefer to be alone, that’s fine, too.”

You think about it for a bit and decide it’s not such a bad idea. It’ll be better to have someone else on the wheel in case you space out.

“Okay, then,” you say, walking past your humble Elantra and getting in the passenger seat of the SUV.

Yoongi doesn’t say much as he drives out of the gates and the neighborhood. He lets you drown in your thoughts with the soft music in the background as you look out the window and appreciate the clear sky. It’s when you’re close to downtown when he asks if you’ve had breakfast and if you want to pass by a cafe. You agree; you need something delicious before facing Jin in this morning’s executive committee meeting.

You’re seated at the corner of a family-run cafe. Yoongi wanted to take you somewhere less busy and he said he found this while walking around this part of town one time. You sip your coffee and hum in satisfaction at the savory crepe that you ordered, suddenly remembering the one time that you and Seokjin found a place in the alleys of Saint-Tropez that sold crepes similar to this.

“How, uh,” you clear your throat, “how is he?”

“Pretty much what you’d expect of someone who screwed up and got into a fight with the person they care about the most,” Yoongi responds. “Guilty, apologetic, a bit hopeless and helpless. He laid in bed the whole day yesterday; didn’t pick up his game console, nor the remote. Well, that’s what he said. He also didn’t mention work once. That was kinda the biggest tell.”

“Is that, uh, is that normal?”

“For a Kim Seokjin? Not normal at all; you know how he is. You’re probably the only other person who knows him best, and that says a lot,” Yoongi tries to smile. “But when it comes to his relationships, I wouldn’t know. Jin hasn’t been in one since that woman from college, and he and Seri barely fought, if they ever did. Or it just wasn’t serious enough for him to tell me because he never did. But with you… I guess I was the first and only person he called.”

“I’ve also only told my brother,” you sigh. “Well, because I learned about Seri from him and he would’ve panicked if I didn’t call back. He also can’t just fly here to fight Jin on my behalf. I feel like my friends would have a lot to say and there’s just so much on my mind right now.”

“You can talk to me if you want, or not, it’s really fine,” Yoongi says. “But I also wanna know how you are.”

“Confused. Hurt, mostly. I don’t like being lied to; that’s one of the first things I told Jin,” you sigh, recalling how you’d listed all the basic things you didn’t want from the men in your life and he’d remarked that your standards were too low because those should be a given already. “And I guess from his feelings to the whole thing with Seri and what they initially implied… I was under the impression that we were both figuring things out along the way. It was him and me facing the world together, you know? And I’m just really upset about it that I don’t know what to say to him nor do I know what I want him to say to me.”

“Is that normal for you?”

“I… actually don’t know,” you sigh. “I haven’t been in a relationship for years. I don’t know how this new version of me takes things like this, what it wants or what it needs to move past it.”

“Seems like you’re both on the same boat, then,” he says, earning him a nod from you. “And normally I’d say you should talk and figure it out together but this is new territory for both of you. You won’t know how to fix things without knowing how to fix you, and that means you and him, separately. You don’t have a past as a couple or even as friends to fall back on at times like this.”

“I know, and that could really mean anything. Whether things go back to normal or not… that’s, uh, that’s what we’ll learn, I guess,” you respond.

Yoongi nods this time, thinking of the worst. With your trust broken, he doesn’t know how you’ll handle it or how you’ll respond to Jin, if you’ll even let him make it up to you because there really is no precedent for this, given your unusual married-but-not-in-love relationship. But Yoongi will help in whatever way. As the person who spends the most time with you and Jin together, he knows that the happiness you give and get from each other is something special enough to fight for.

You both go back to the car to head to the office, and it’s not long after when you ask him what he thinks about all this, particularly about Jin’s decisions on everything.

“Jin would’ve been honest about how he felt with you but he wanted to make sure that it wasn’t just the wedding fever or the fake romance thing. And he wanted to cut ties with Seri first before he’d done anything with you,” Yoongi explains.

He turns towards you at the stoplight, looking into your eyes, something you don’t recall him ever really doing, and you know just how well he means by trying to say things on Jin’s behalf.

“___, I know he’s not perfect. He’s done questionable things and I won’t use his being rusty in relationships as an excuse, but you also have to know that he didn’t want to hurt her even more the same way he didn’t want to hurt you, and I know that counts for something to you.”

It does, a lot more than you expected it would, so you nod and give him a smile.

Yoongi says he’ll drive you home but you insist, saying you’re feeling better and don’t want to tie him to your schedule when he should be assisting your husband. Yoongi accepts and says he’ll pass by your room to give you the car keys, and you go about your morning, trying not to think of having to see Seokjin in the conference room later.

You work on the emails that piled up over the weekend and review your report before heading to the conference room and taking your seat in the area on his left. He arrives 5 minutes later, 10:00 on the dot, and begins the meeting with none of his usual greetings or check-ins with the directors. His expression isn’t the usual one, either. It’s more serious yet blank at the same time.

The directors provide key updates as is done every week. For each person who speaks, Seokjin looks straight ahead, towards the screen where data is being presented, while taking notes on his tablet. At the call of your name, he waits for a few seconds before he turns to you.

He looks at you the whole time you report. You can see it from your periphery since you’re looking at everyone else across from you and towards your left, trying not to linger on his face. You respond to your senior director’s question and glance at Jin, briefly meeting his soft, apologetic eyes before he turns to the screen, with the serious expression back on his face.

It’s not the meeting you’re used to where he has many clarifications, hence why it would often drag on until past lunchtime because there are many things he wants to iron out. Today, he lets everyone just talk and ask questions, which aren’t many, since they also seem to be a little on edge with their President’s disposition. He doesn’t seem angry, but he also doesn’t seem to be in the mood.

Seokjin ends the meeting after 2 hours, saying he’ll email each one with further questions and clarifications by 4PM so everyone still has time to revise them. You wait until 5; he doesn’t send anything to you.

You decide to work until early in the evening, choosing to have your dinner in the cafeteria instead and then heading for home by 8:30. You arrive with Seokjin’s car not in sight, and you figure that he’s staying late in the office again.

You both find ways to avoid each other. You spend the next 2 days going on site visits with your teams in the farms then you hole yourself up in the lab, observing and assisting the staff as they work on the recipes for the curry set of products. On those days, you leave for work later than Seokjin and come home earlier. You tell your best friends that you’re busy, that's why you’re unresponsive in the chat group, and that wouldn’t be the first time.

Hoseok calls you every night just to make sure you’re okay. Your husband hasn’t reached out, you say, and you’re not exactly sure if you’re waiting for him or if you’re glad that you don’t have to deal with him yet. You’re still working around the story in your mind. All you know are from the things you pieced together and based on what Jin said, which you didn’t allow him to do much of.

“I know I said to take your time but you’re gonna have to speak to him at some point,” your brother advises. “He’s still your husband and you’re still colleagues. This is gonna boil over soon enough if you don’t do something about it.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m just confused about a lot of things. I’ve kind of calmed down a bit. I’ll talk to my friends this weekend and I don’t know… figure out how to move forward.”

“That’s at least something. But hey, you choose yourself at the end of this, okay?” Your brother reminds you. “Whether it’s with him or not, you choose you. Always. I love you, little sis. I’ll see you soon.”

You return the affection, thankful that he’s still looking out for you even if he’s in another country. Your younger sister, too, even if she’s thousands of miles away. Miyeon may not know everything that’s going on but she doesn’t fail to send you encouraging messages every week. The fact that she gets to do so much good and live her life as a scientist in Canada is enough to remind you that you did what was right for you and your family; that she didn’t have to make the choice you did to marry into the Kim family and protect your own.

It’s the next day when you’re busy reviewing proposals for new products when Sejeong knocks and enters your room and proceeds to take a seat in front of you.

“Hey,” you say, returning her charming smile with a forced one from you.

Her face falls a little bit at the sight.

“Are you and my brother fighting?” She asks with a sullen expression on her face now.

“Me and Seokjin? Why would you think that?”

“Because he has the same sad, blanked out face like you’ve had this whole week,” she pouts. “He hasn’t been teasing or smiling, and I’ve barely even seen you. What’s going on?”

You’re stumped for a bit, unsure how to respond. Sejeong doesn’t know the whole story, and you don’t want to bring her into this mess in any way.

“Ah, well, you know how it’s been a tough couple weeks. For all of you, actually. And you know him, he takes work so seriously and things like that just really affect him.”

“Enough to have it affect his marriage, too?” She wonders.

“You know how arguments happen when people are under a lot of stress,” you sigh, knowing you’re not entirely lying. “We’ve never fought since we got married so we’re kind of just feeling things out, letting things settle. I think that’s best for us right now.”

“Okay, I trust you. He’s not talking about it and well, he’s always been like that,” Sejeong huffs. “He’s a lot more private than people think. He was never really one to share his emotions about anything but still, I haven’t seen him like this since he and his ex broke up and that was like, a decade ago. I never knew how to help him get through tough things like this.”

Seokjin’s ex. He’s never talked about her and you never asked. It’s telling how the breakup is the incident that’s always referred to, and now you’re wondering what really happened, but you’re also unsure if you’re ready for whatever it was.

“I’m sorry,” you say, feeling like it’s all you can tell her.

“Don’t be. Whatever it is, I hope you’ll both figure it out. Seokjin cares deeply, you know? He’s not perfect but he cares so much, more than he can handle sometimes,” she manages a grin. “And I know this is silly to ask but can you, uh, make sure he’s okay? I worry about him a lot since he’s never really open about his struggles but yeah, not forcing you or anything.”

“Okay, I will,” you manage a half smile, too. There are ways to ensure that without being the one who does it directly.

“Alright. Thanks a lot, ___,” she stands up. “And uh, don’t worry. My parents won’t know about you and my brother.”

“Thank you, Sejeong. I don’t want them to worry and I’m sure neither does he.”

She nods then leaves.

You go to your group chat with your friends and ask them out to dinner, knowing that you need them tonight more than ever.

“I’d like to say I should’ve seen it coming but also, fuck, I didn’t see that coming,” Jungkook exclaims as he munches on his pork belly from your favorite barbecue place that all 4 of you are eating in his apartment. “So this whole time, he’s been in love with you and you were just going on like things were normal? And that Seri resigned because he’s in love with you? And you’re angry because he’s in love with y—”

“Yah! You made your point,” you kick his shin. “And he said he was falling in love with me. There’s a difference.”

“No, there isn’t. You’re just being dumb,” Dara says. “That’s kinda like, softening the blow, I guess, considering that you were adamant about not being in a relationship and still being hung up on Namjoon. And the fact that you did the deed before all this revelation and I still need the deets.”

“I am not still hung up on Namjoon,” you correct, but backtracking at her knowing face. “I mean, not as much as before. Obviously, there’s that past that I haven’t gotten around to completely letting go and resolving so, yeah. And can we focus on the issue at hand please and not the sex?”

“The sex is a part of the issue, you dummy!” She spits.

“Where does that leave Joon, then?” Jimin asks. “And where does that leave you and Jin?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” you sigh. “I haven’t heard from either of them and especially with Jin, I don’t know what he’s thinking, or what else he’s feeling. And I’m not gonna be the one who’ll reach out.”

“Are you still mad, though?” Jimin wonders. “Like, anger is an acceptable first reaction. But what about now?”

“The shock’s worn out a bit but there’s still a lot to process - what he feels, what I feel. I mean, I was taking my time and now I feel like I have to speed it up just because he already knows what he feels and I just don’t like not being on the same page. He and I always were.”

“But what else are you confused about?” Jungkook asks. “You clearly feel something for Mr. Boss Man Husband. And he’s in love with you, and you can be, too. I mean, yeah you have this grand plan of divorcing and shit but honestly, that sounds pretty stupid right now compared to all that’s going down at this moment.”

“It’s still an option,” you respond.

“Okay, but that was before all this. Before he broke up with Seri because he wants you. Now my man’s gonna be alone for the rest of his life and not until you make up your mind about Namjoon, if, by some miracle, he even decides to come back, then so will you,” he counters.

“I wouldn’t really mind,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes, you do. Because I know deep down, you want to be loved, you want to be cared for, to have someone you can enjoy this life with, and there’s nothing wrong with that!” He says passionately this time. “Those assholes took so much from you and I get it but—”

“Exactly, Kook! They took so much from me and I loved them,” you choke. “I haven’t even given much to Jin but he already hurt me. What happens when I do? What do I have to live through and survive this time?”

“Okay, not that I defend the lying because I’m still gonna give him shit for it,” Jungkook replies, “but he’s clearly way better than those fuckers. And fine, even if it’s not Jin, or the heck, it can even be Joon but what I’m also trying to say is that ___, you deserve love and yeah, it may hurt a bit but the right one won’t hurt all the time. I just hope you won’t have your wall up forever and actually see that some things and people are worth getting over your fears for.”

You let your best friend's words settle. This is a man who watched you grow up even if you lived 130 miles from each other, the one who saw the worst and best of everything about you once you became an adult; he even got arrested for yes, beating up your ex, and you know he means what he says that he just wants the best for you, in whoever or whatever form that might be.

Because he’s also right - you do want that love, you want that care. You worked hard to be where you are now and you want to enjoy it with someone who wants the same things as you. But as you learned, it’s not always easy.

“I just don’t know what to expect with Jin,” you sigh. “With Joon, I’ve come to expect it, you know? We have such deep care for each other but I expect him just being away, or not following up on his promise yet. Better that I know than not at all.”

“That’s valid but you also wouldn’t know until you work it out with Mr. Stupid Handsome Husband. Listen to him or talk to him, and maybe reach out to Joon, too. It’s about time you also decide what you want from him,” Jungkook responds, earning him a nod and an affectionate lean on his shoulder from you.

“Just to be clear, you’re not in love with ___, right?” Dara asks Jungkook, who visibly chokes along with you. “I mean, you had an impassioned speech and I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t misinterpreting it or anything.”

You’re laughing now, and it’s a good distraction, really, as you constantly shake your head.

“Just to be clear - no,” Jungkook responds. “I want to be babied and ___ hates it. She wants a strong, independent man and that’s not me.”

“You’re right, you’re a literal man-child,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Now since that’s settled,” Jimin gets everyone’s attention, “what are you planning to do now?” He asks you.

“I guess… give Jin a chance to say what he wants to say, if he plans to,” you sigh. “And maybe call Joon or something, see how he is and maybe he could help me figure things out.”

That last bit wouldn’t take long, you find out. Later that night, as you lay in bed and wait to fall asleep, you get a text message you weren’t really expecting. It’s from Namjoon.

Seokjin drags his feet up the stairs, and like everyday since Sunday after your fight, he looks at your door and waits a few seconds before he heads to his room.

It’s that silly little hope he has that you’d exit at the right time when he’s outside and he could see your face that isn’t on his phone screen. Those photos from France have been his saving grace this whole week; without them, he doesn’t know how he would’ve survived, knowing the terrible state of your relationship.

The first and only time he was able to look at you was during Monday’s meeting. You delivered your report well, as you always do, but he was too much of a coward to comment or email you for questions. So many times since then, he wanted to just go inside your room and talk to you - about food, about work, about this video he watched, about you, about what he feels… and how sorry he is for making every stupid decision he could ever make since he realized he’s fallen for you.

He wants to apologize for everything, tell you that he meant what he said about being in love with you, something he hadn’t expected to feel this fast or this certainly. He wants to ask for another chance, to ask what he can do to prove to you that he’s nothing like your exes who would just lie and cheat and take advantage of you, to ask how you can both move forward, together.

He’d find the guts to exit his room and stand outside yours, but at the very last moment, he realizes he can’t do it. There’s always that chance you’ll hear him out and speak to him, and that may mean forgiving him and letting him in again. But there’s also a chance that you’ll want out, that you’ll say you’ve made up your mind and you don’t want anything to do with him anymore, and he’s not ready for that.

But he’s been such a mess all week. Yoongi talks to him every night. Taehyung visits him in his office every morning and invites him for dinner and drinks and whatever; even to play golf over lunch just so he’d have something to look forward to, but it’s really hard to be excited about anything. He usually ever really gets excited even about the simplest things with you.

But he also knows he’s been letting himself go a little too much. He’s quite absent-minded at work and it takes him hours to get focused, leaving him staying in the office until the late evening just to get something done. He’s been trying to figure out how best to approach you, on what he should say to make things clear to you - that he’s sorry, that he wants you, and that he’ll make it up to you.

He finally finds the strength to do it tonight. He had dinner at Taehyung and Hyun-a’s place and they were the ones advising him how to deal with conflicts and arguments like this.

“You just have to go through it, hyung,” his brother had said. “There’s really no simpler or better way. You just have to tell her in whatever way you can. Find out how she will listen and let her know you mean every single word.”

So that’s why he’s here, knocking on your door and cutting off your question on who it is. You’re at least here and you’ll listen, but he’ll make sure not to make it any more difficult for you.

“I won’t come in, I promise,” he says, leaving the door open just enough for you to hear each other. “I just want to say what I’ve been meaning to say all week but just didn’t have the guts to because I’ve been so scared. Is that okay? If you don’t want to, just let me know. I, uh, I don’t want to force you into anything.”

He hears you shut the TV off and when you don’t say anything else, he continues.

“I was gonna send you voice messages but I kept deleting them because I sounded terrible,” he chuckles, ironically tinged with sadness. “And you could just delete them I guess and I’d never know so uh, I decided to just do this instead. It’s kind of nerve-wracking; my hands are actually shaking right now. It’s like that though, right, when you care about something and someone? Everything is scary, losing them is scary. And I could just feel that that’s so close to happening with you.”

His throat is dry and his heart is beating incredibly fast, but he remembers what his brother said about just doing it because there’s literally no other way. Jin can spend the rest of the weekend wailing over what happens after.

“I guess it was somewhere between exploring the streets and discovering new things, to your snoring at night, to the comfort of your presence and your smile,” he continues. “It was just so easy with you; it was comfortable and natural and it’s so silly to think that we were supposed to be acting but during our time together, I didn’t feel like I was playing a role. I was just being myself and that felt amazing, you know? It felt new and different and liberating.”

It’s something I miss terribly, too, he doesn’t say.

“I thought maybe it was the wedding fever but I just knew something had changed. And a part of me hoped and maybe believed for the briefest moment that they changed for you, too, because it somehow felt real. Or maybe that was just my heart and my mind convincing me because the truth was harder to accept - that you didn’t feel the same way, and that there’s no place for me in your heart that you’ve been rightfully guarding. And for good reason. I hurt you before you even let me in and that’s not a good way to ask someone to love them back.”

On the other side of the door, you’re rooted on your bed, knees propped up as you hug them for comfort. This is the most that you’ve heard him speak about his feelings, and they’re all quite overwhelming for you.

Maybe he felt the comfort you felt with him, too, perhaps that’s why he says it seemed like something changed for you as well. You were in awe of his beauty and his charm, the way he looked so free and electrifying in so many ways, but you knew there was no place for any of that. It all felt straightforward to you - you only had each other to hold onto, to confide in. It felt natural because it was, in a way that was different from what he was feeling.

Maybe it was on you, too. Because you didn’t reinforce enough what it all was. Maybe you made him hope without knowing it.

But he still chose to lie when you got back here, when he said it was all okay with Seri, when he didn’t tell you the truth about why she left. And you believed it all, and it seemed so hard for him to tell you things when all you wanted was his trust and his honesty.

“Things were simple with Seri because I didn’t ask for more and neither did she, but I guess she was waiting for me to make it official and I just didn’t have enough reason to. I guess I was being blind to that, too, because it was easier since things were convenient,” he goes on. “This is gonna sound so cliche but the past months with you showed me what I’ve been wanting and missing all this time, and to feel all that with you - little by little and then all at once - was all I needed to make the decision, and I’m so sorry that I lied about it, about her and me and why she left.”

His voice starts to shake as he recalls the fight from last week, how hurt and betrayed you looked, how for a moment you thought he was seeing her behind your back and breaking your trust.

“I’m so sorry that I gave you a reason not to trust me, that I’m maybe making it difficult for you to trust someone again. Or think that someone can’t be good for you but I want to be that man, ___. I’m not perfect and I still have a lot to learn but I’m going to work on them. There’s nothing holding me back now.”

“I do,” you finally say, surprising him.

He wasn’t expecting you to say anything, even if he wished you would, but now the possibility of what you’ll say is making him hold his breath and feel like his heart is about to break into thousands of tiny pieces.

“Tell me, we can work it out,” he croaks.

“Namjoon, he’s, uh. He called me yesterday, said he got an offer at this Art Institute,” you say, your voice trembling at the information. “He’ll do monthly travels but the base is in Incheon. It sounds like a good opportunity for him and he gets to be back home.”

“That’s, uh, that sounds great, ___,” Jin says after what seems like a minute or so. “That means there’s a chance for both of you, huh? Finally, right?”

“We’re gonna talk about it, actually,” you say as a consolation, though you’re unsure what that would do. “He’ll be in Hong Kong next week for a conference and I plan to meet him there. I’ll head out during the weekend and see him, discuss things.”

You hear him constantly clearing his throat and sniffing, and a crying Jin is a sight you don’t want to see or even think about. But he’d just laid his heart out and you’re breaking it while it’s at the palm of your hand as he offers it to you, and you’ve never felt more ashamed of yourself for doing this to a man whom, deep down, you care deeply about.

“I’m so sorry, Jin,” is all you could say.

“You have nothing to apologize for, okay? He means so much to you and I understand that. Just, uh, just let me know when you’re leaving, alright?”

“I will,” you reply, unable to stop the tears from falling now.

Somehow saying something as certain as this makes it all so real, and it’s breaking your heart, too.

“Okay,” he mumbles. “Go rest now. Goodnight, ___.”

He closes the door before you even get to respond. And even from behind it, you could hear his heart breaking even more.

You wake up the next morning still feeling tired. As has been the norm, you didn’t sleep a wink last night after that exchange with your husband. It was tough hearing his voice crack, and you can just imagine how much it took for him to even talk about his feelings and even more, to support you in something that might as well cause him to lose you for good.

The bed pulls you back down, as you want to lay in here longer, but you agreed with Dara that you’d join her in her yoga class since she insists it’s gonna help you clear your mind a little bit, given all that you’re thinking and feeling.

You get dressed and head out, glancing at Jin’s room that’s surprisingly open. There’s some clanking you hear and with how last night transpired, you just know that he wouldn’t be leaving his door open like this.

So you walk towards it, almost tiptoeing like you’re sneaking in, not wanting to scare him or anything. But instead, you find Mrs. Kang rummaging through piles of clothes on the couch.

“Hi, Mrs. Kang, is everything okay? And where’s Seokjin?”

“Hi, Mrs. Kim,” she bows. “Mr. Kim was called for a meeting by his father. He was in a hurry and didn’t have time to look for his wallet and he asked me to look for it, uh, here.”

She looks around and sighs, and even you could sense her disappointment. She’s been Jin’s caretaker since he was a teenager and she’s mentioned so many times before how she always appreciated the elder Kim always being neat and organized. She never had to worry about misplaced clothes or personal belongings, unlike this place that’s so far from the Seokjin you both know.

It’s not the messiest but as per your husband’s standards, this is a hellhole. Coats and trousers are hastily placed on the couch when you know he always fixes them for dry cleaning every week. His trash bin is full and some crumpled papers are on the floor when he usually empties it out every 3 days. His bed is messily unmade when he’s a stiff sleeper. Yet what catches your eyes the most are the whiskey bottle and empty cans of beer on the side of his couch.

Seokjin may have a fairly high alcohol tolerance but he considers himself a casual drinker, doing it mostly during business events or dinner for the purpose of socializing. He isn’t the type to drink by himself with the intent on getting drunk. And well, the sight tells you otherwise.

Mrs. Kang sighs and looks at you apologetically, though you’re unsure what it is she’s sorry for. She picks up the trash and you kneel to help her, but she stops you before you can continue.

“It’s not your job to clean up your husband’s messes, Mrs. Kim,” she tells you.

“Is it not?”

“No. Your job is to love him. That’s what gets his butt off the bed so he could clean up all this,” she smiles, and you can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.

But you turn serious when you think about what she says.

Love. It seemed so easy for him to feel that about you. You wonder if you’d just been so numb and oblivious to it that you didn’t realize it was staring at you, living with you, breathing next to you.

“What if I don’t? Or don’t know how?” You mumble. “To love him, I mean.”

“Sometimes the heart feels before the mind can process it,” she says wisely. “I think that’s how it is with you. Seokjin used to love so naturally, so joyfully, so deeply. It’s been a while, but I’ve never seen him laugh or hurt this way.”

You merely nod and smile, not wanting to get into this right now because you wouldn’t know how to tmanage your emotions if they do get too much. So you turn and fix the bed, fluffing the pillows and pulling the duvet covers over them. You find Jin’s wallet lodged between the bed and his night table, so you pull it out and hand it to Mrs. Kang so she can send it to your husband through Mr. Lim.

You bid her goodbye and meet up with Dara for your yoga session followed by a hearty lunch and a shopping spree on her end for an upcoming family vacation she’s taking.

You finally tell her what happened the night you and your husband had sex, and give her enough details so she could tell you what signs you missed. There was more passion and intensity and desire you overlooked and mistook for him just wanting to release his stress.

“There was more loving than fucking,” Dara had basically screamed in the store for everyone to sideye both of you. “And I know that it’s been a while since you felt that, if any of your exes even did, but the fact that you thought it was different with Jin in some way should’ve already told you that it wasn’t your usual bang.”

You let her “analysis” settle and then decide to hang out at Jungkook’s place after so Dara could try to beat him at some game while you and Jimin talk about work gossip that doesn’t involve you. You go home after dinner and try to sleep, but the fact that Jin hasn’t gone home since this morning is putting you a bit on edge.

You’re actually quite nervous to message him, not knowing how he’ll respond to you after last night’s conversation. So you watch crime shows on Netflix until you get sleepy, and once you feel like you’re about to enter deep sleep, a loud banging almost jerks you out of bed.

Fear creeps into you for a moment before you remember the state-of-the-art double security system that Jin had installed after you mentioned that you’re more afraid of robbers than you are of ghosts. You put on your robe and cautiously open the door, and you’re startled again after another loud thump.

Out in the hallway, you see your husband being dragged by two men, and from the silent curses and laughter, you assume them to be Yoongi and Taehyung. You follow them into the room where they dig up their last bolts of energy to get your husband onto the bed, dead weight and all. They both tag-team again to get him to lie on his back so he doesn’t suffocate, and then catch their breath after what seemed like a marathon that they ran.

“Rough night, huh?” You say, startling them before they make out that it’s you.

“He’s not gonna fucking hear the end of this,” Yoongi groans.

“How much did he drink?” You ask, seeing the sorry state of your husband. He looks absolutely terrible.

“More like how much and how long,” his brother scoffs. “And well, he drank a lot for a long time, but I guess he feels better since he got to release all his anger and frustration.”

“Tae, does he look like he’s better to you?” You frown.

“At least he’s not wailing and shit,” the younger man shrugs. “But uh, he told us about last night… And I’m sorry for how all this happened. I shouldn’t have suggested faking it.”

“There was no other way, okay? Your brother’s the one who slipped and well, we’re here.”

“Yeah, he slipped and fell in love with his wife. What’s the worst that could happen, right?” Yoongi says, wincing at your shocked face at the subtle dig. “Sorry, I’ve been dealing with him like this an entire week and it took so long for him to talk to you until that Namjoon guy got to you first and now he’s… well,” he turns to look at his friend. “He’s like this.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “It’s quite a lot for both of us and those around us.”

“Yeah, well, love hurts. You both know that enough,” he huffs. “Anyway, I’ll get me and Tae some water. I’m exhausted from dragging Jin’s ass from the bar to here.”

Yoongi leaves you with Taehyung who puts his arm on your shoulder. “How are you holding up, sis?”

“Terribly, but not enough to pass out like your brother.” You turn to the man next to you. “What happened, Tae? He doesn’t… drink. But we found bottles and cans of alcohol in his room earlier.”

“Hyung doesn’t really have vices. Well, aside from work. But when that’s drowning him and his heart’s a mess, he doesn’t have anything or anyone else to turn to,” Taehyung explains. “Whiskey knocks him out. He says it’s been hard to sleep the past week and I don’t blame him. It’s been tough.”

You hum, not knowing what to say, walking towards Jin to remove his shoes and socks instead to keep you preoccupied.

“Is Namjoon your ex?”

“Uh, not really,” you stammer. “I mean, we had something going but we were never in the same place at the same time. And now we could be, that’s why, uh, that’s why I’m seeing him next week to talk about it.”

“Ah, that’s why,” Taehyung hums. “Hyung didn’t give much background about the guy but he kept saying you’re going back to him and stuff. He kinda lost it then.”

When you don’t say anything, Taehyung continues.

“He and his ex, Nabi, were together for 3 years. He considered asking her to marry him but her ex came back and she left him for that dude. It’s been tough for hyung ever since.”

So that’s why Seokjin never talked about his past relationship, why his family always talked about 10 years ago as the last time they’d seen him happy, why maybe it’d been hard for him to fully commit to Seri, among other things, and why the news about Namjoon is hitting him this hard.

“I… I didn’t know that.”

“I know. He hates talking about it; he hates talking about himself, actually. Not like me, at all,” he chuckles. “But hyung keeps himself at a distance from people, and he’s so good at it that you wouldn’t really know it. And I didn’t realize it until you.”

“What… what about me?”

“I used to think that what he had with Seri was something, you know? But when I asked her what her favorite dish of my brother was, what he liked to eat, she couldn’t answer. I mean, 5 years and she doesn’t know the most intimate thing about him? And I don’t mean the birthmark on his butt.”

“Didn’t ask for the image, but thanks, I guess,” you scowl.

Taehyung gives a cheeky smile but continues. “I thought that was on her but no, it was on him. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to share something so personal and intimate about him with her. He thrives in comfort, in stability, and they started in the complete opposite.”

“Your brother and I started based on a lie, Tae. We’re no different.”

“Are you? Did any of the laughter or the affection or anything else feel that way?”

At your silence, he offers you a sincere smile. “I love my brother and I’ll vouch for him until there’s nothing left of me, so you can take this with a grain of salt but I really think that if you’ll let him, he can truly make you happy.”

Right on cue, Yoongi enters the room with a glass of water for Taehyung and another one for Jin, which he places on the night table.

“Were you just outside listening?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, seemed like a pretty serious conversation and I didn’t want to interrupt,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I’ve been so fucking thirsty!”

You smack the younger man at his loud voice and tell him to quiet down.

“Nah, hyung will be asleep for like, 18 hours max. Don’t worry about it; he’ll just be really hungry after.”

You nod and thank them again, and they leave you alone with a passed out Jin, painfully unaware of all the thoughts in your mind.

It’s quite ironic how you felt like you were slowly getting to know him after France, because Taehyung was right - the laughter and affection weren’t lies. And then when things fell apart, you felt like you didn’t know the man. But now, as he continues to hurt and let himself go, it’s like you’re getting to know him, all over again, all at once.

You’re getting to know the pain and fear underneath, the worries and failures. You’re getting to know how little he lets people in, and how much of himself he’s willing to give to those he wants more of. You’re getting to know how he loves. It’s unfamiliar, it’s a little unnerving, and you don’t know if you’re ready for it.

You take a washcloth and dip it in a basin full of lukewarm water. You wet his arms and his hands then dry him after. You wipe away whatever invisible thing there is on his face with cold water this time, still amazed at how he can look handsome and peaceful despite his current state. You leave an aspirin on his bedside and try to go to sleep. It’s 4AM, and you just hope you have enough energy and courage to face him in the morning.

You do see Jin in the morning, after you wake up at 11 and pass by his room, but as it turns out, he does sleep for 18 hours.

It’s 6PM by the time he reacts to your leg-pulling and constant calling of his name, propping himself with his elbows and complaining that you’re so loud.

“I’ve been loud since 12NN, and that was 6 hours ago. The hangover soup and dak galbi are now cold,” you pout.

“It’s 6PM?!” He gasps, checking his phone and scowling at the dozens of messages and calls from Yoongi and his brother. “What ha— I, uh, you’re… you’re here,” he stammers, as he finally takes in your presence.

It feels like it’s been so long since he’s last seen you. It’s officially been the worst week of his life.

“Where else would I be? The guys dragged you here at 2AM since you’ve been passed out at the bar for hours. Did you rent the VIP room so you could drink and sleep?“ You frown, arms crossed now. “And I’ve been trying to wake you up because you haven’t eaten yet nor taken your vitamins. And yesterday, Mrs. Kang cleaned up after your mess, with all the empty cans and bottles on th— what?!”

You’re scowling at his calm, smiling face, which is totally misplaced.

“I just missed your voice,” he says.

“I’m being serious here, Seokjin.”

Your stern voice and use of that specific name cause his smile to fall.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Not to the guys though, since I’ve done my share of caring for their drunk asses but I’m sorry if I woke you, or kept you up, or got you worried.”

Your turn away at the last word, not wanting to give much away. Of course you’re worried, but you’re also still quite upset and well, very much confused.

“I’ll heat your food and bring it up here. You should take a shower. I’ll be back up in half an hour.”

He nods and stands up too quickly, losing his balance, and you’re quick enough to catch him before he falls on the floor.

With your arm around his waist and his arm around your shoulder, you’re the closest you’ve been in a while. His heart is beating fast and so is yours, and you look at each other briefly like a terrible dramatic scene from a TV show before you look away.

“Aish, be careful. You’re hungover and you slept for more than half a day, you’re not that well,” you scold him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again, gaining his balance now as he makes it to the bathroom with your help.

You leave him alone and heat his food. You knock before he tells you to enter and then place the tray on his bed.

“Eat with me,” he says. “Here, take my spoon.”

He deflates at your lack of movement but you accept the offer and sit on his side, taking the other bowl and halving the food with him. You did prepare a meal for 3, after all.

It’s tense and a little awkward, something you’re not at all used to with Jin. There’s always a joke or a teasing remark or a meal idea, not silence and side glances and the clanking of utensils against the ceramic bowls.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” You give in first. “Give your body time to rest and recover.”

“Okay,” he responds, surprising you that he doesn’t relent. “And I’m sorry again, and thank you. You didn’t have to take care of me last night and right now.”

“I’m still your wife, Seokjin. I still have a duty.”

You say it so coldly, so certainly, as if for the first time, you’re playing a role.

“You don’t,” he sighs. “You’re not bound to anything, or to me. You don’t have to be. And even your care, I— I lost the right to receive it after what I did. I’m sorry again.”

He doesn’t look at you, and it’s suddenly so hard to breathe. He’s not being defensive or desperate. He’s just being accepting, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“What do you want from me now, Jin?” You ask after a beat of silence. “What am I supposed to do with your confession? What am I supposed to feel?”

“I want you to love me back, ___. That’s what people hope for when they confess their feelings,” he responds defeatedly. “But I can’t demand that from you, not when you don’t trust me. Not when you’re still guarding your heart and waiting for someone else. You… you’ll have to want me, too.”

The words are heavy, almost final. Like an ultimatum that you don’t know how to respond to. You wish you did.

“I don’t know, Jin, I don’t know what to do with all this.”

“Then just take it,” he pleads. “Because I don’t know what to do with it either when it’s just all here”—hand on his chest—“hurting.”

You turn away, afraid he’d see the look on your face. That guilt, that sadness, that confusion and fear you want to get over.

“I’m… I’m supposed to go on that trip and meet Namjoon,” you remind him. “That’s on Friday night.”

“So you could talk about things, right? Figure out how you two could work out?” He says after a while.

“I guess. I mean, it was always going to be hard because of his lifestyle, and now, because of—”

“Because of me. I get it.” He offers you a smile, perhaps the simplest and most generous one he could give. “You should go on that trip. You deserve to be happy, ___.”

You nod and start cleaning up, unable to stay here any longer. He tells you that he’ll take a leave tomorrow but that he’ll spend the rest of tonight working out just to try to feel better.

He thanks you again then calls you before you step outside.

“I’m accepting a company award on behalf of my father on Wednesday. Do you, uh, do you think you can come?”

“I, uh, my dad has another procedure on that day. I was planning to stay with him since my mom can’t and it’s just gonna be me and Hoseok with him.”

“Oh, alright, no problem.”

He tries his best to maintain the smile, but it falters too quickly for you not to notice it.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, ___. It’s just some award.”

It turns out, it’s a pretty big award, which is given to the company that rated highest not just in sales but in global impact and culture as well. It’s given during the most prestigious national ceremony for corporations, something you’d only heard about.

It’s quite the private event despite it being telecasted; Seokjin’s parents were always the only ones invited. But this time, they had to fly to New York for an emergency meeting, leaving their eldest to represent the family here.

You hadn’t known how big of a deal it was until Jimin sent you the link for the live telecast, telling you that he overheard one of the directors ask Jin in the elevator if you were coming since you took a half-day leave.

It’s a shame, the director had said. That’s a pretty special award to your family.

Your husband had reasoned that you had to look over your father in the hospital and that’s always been a non-negotiable for you. That’s true; that was one of the first things you told Jin when you were discussing the “terms” of the marriage. It’s also true that your brother is home and a few hours of you accompanying your husband wouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Your only consolation is that you’re at least able to watch it. But you think it’s more of a punishment than anything - the food looks delicious - or perhaps a way for you to ease the guilt, or maybe make it worse.

“You’re regretting it, aren’t you?” Hoseok nudges your shoulder as you both sit on the couch of the VIP room since there were no more available private ones. “I know that look, ___. You rarely have it, so I know it’s hitting you hard.”

“I just can’t get the image of his face out of my head,” you sigh. “The way his face just fell and I actually considered going but then I thought - press, socialize… I have to act like everything’s okay. And I kinda chickened out.”

“Did you see him this morning?”

“Before he left. I said good luck and apologized again and he just smiled, like the kind where he’s trying hard to make it believable.”

“Like the one he has on now?”

You turn to the screen of your laptop and spot Seokjin in his slick black suit, one that you accompanied him to get from the tailor a few weeks ago. He’s bowing, shaking hands, greeting the fellow guests, and he just looks so… empty. His cheeks don’t even get close to his eyes when he smiles. He looks stiff and a little dazed, though he constantly looks around, as if waiting, looking for someone.

You can’t look away, and you watch him walk to his seat. The camera doesn’t pan to his area as the program begins. There are speeches and then a performance when dinner starts, and while that goes on, you’re welcoming your father from the operating room.

He’s still a little groggy but he’s able to greet you and huff out a scoff.

“What are you doing here?” He asks. “Shouldn’t you be at your husband’s event?”

You scowl at your brother because you know he told on you.

“You have an operation, Dad. And I need to be here, all the more that Mom couldn’t make it.”

“Precisely, because it’s not major,” he points out. “Plus, it’s why I have a son in Tokyo who can fly in anytime.”

“You mean that’s why you have a daughter in Seoul who can drive here anytime,” you argue. “I’m still your child.”

“My only married child,” he corrects. “Arranged or fake or whatever, Seokjin is still your partner. You stand by each other whatever happens, between you or around you.”

“You literally just said it’s fake,” you frown.

“And you try to make it work if you can; that’s how it can be real,” he counters. “That’s an option, you know?”

You turn away, and both he and Hoseok know that your father hit a nerve. Your parents may not know everything, but they do know enough. They’ve seen you dodge men - good men - and back out from anything that could be a potential relationship, holding onto Namjoon because it was safe, it was familiar, and for many years, you felt that it was the best you could do.

“You and Seokjin weren’t a match made in hell, ___. If you don’t consider the romance, what you two have is what any married couple could only dream of - respect, trust, an uncanny ability to make each other laugh,” your father smiles. “A deep care that’s more than romantic or grand or lustful. There’s friendship there, and that means a hell lot more than you think.”

You turn away so you could discretely wipe the tear that falls, pouting at your father and saying he’s probably still high on his anaesthesia. He merely laughs and closes his eyes, leaving you with your brother’s knowing look.

“Didn’t think he had the wisdom in him,” Hoseok laughs. “But you know he means well; definitely doesn’t hate Jin as much as he used to after treating you so well.”

“Seokjin’s actually difficult man to hate,” you admit. “I mean, I don’t hate him. I’m just scared, I can say that now.”

You lean on your brother’s shoulder as he sits next to you, watching the telecast with Seokjin now being called on the stage.

If you were there, you would’ve spent dinner time with him enjoying the dishes. You would’ve people-watched and taken weird photos in your fancy clothes. You would be tickling and playing with his hand during the speeches. And you would be taking his photos and giving him a thumbs up sign like the stage wife that you are while he’s in front, giving his speech that you didn’t know he was going to make.

“I, I miss him,” you utter, as you watch him constantly looking around in the audience, on the sides, and something inside you just knows, as you think about the invitation on your desk, that he’s looking for you. “Fuck, I miss him so much.”

You arrive home around 10, after having dinner and coffee with your brother. You’re surprised to walk up the foyer stairs and find Seokjin on the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of juice.

“Hey, you’re home,” you say, surprised he’s back so early.

“Yeah, I left after the awarding,” he hums. “Nothing else to do there.”

“Oh, okay. Uh, nice speech, by the way,” you smile.

“You were there?” He asks excitedly, and you hate that you have to hurt him like this.

“Oh, uh. Live telecast, actually. Dad’s operation finished right before your speech. I’m sorry.”

“Right,” he replies, his smile faltering. “How is he doing?”

“He’s okay. He’ll go home tomorrow and then go back to the doctor in 3 months, but they said there’s not much to worry about anymore. He just needs to exercise and not be stubborn with his meds,” you chuckle.

“That’s good,” he says, sounding a little too formal for your liking. “Uh, you’re uh, leaving on Friday, right? For Hong Kong?”

“I am,” you mumble, not ready to talk about this with him. If you’re being honest, you’re not ready to think about the trip at all.

You return his gaze, as if words are being said between you but unlike before, you don’t know what they mean. There’s apology, sadness, longing, and you can’t help but think that you mirror them, too.

“Okay. Everything’s ready? I asked Mr. Lim to drive you to the airport so just let him know what time you’ll leave. I’ll be here then, to wish you goodbye.”

You’re only able to nod, returning the goodnight that Jin mumbles, and watch him walk up the stairs and softly close the door of his room.

You feel the weight of the upcoming trip pull you down. It’s odd, not feeling that much excitement about it when you remember a time when you’d always be waiting for Namjoon’s call, for his letter, for that offer that would bring him home, or for any arrangement that would make a relationship between both of you finally happen. But not this time, as it gets clearer what you’re losing, as the day you see the man you’ve held onto for so long draws close.

Namjoon is a memory, a dream at one point, but he hasn’t been your reality for years, as your brother had told you earlier. You were holding onto him because you thought that was the best you could do, even if he wasn’t around, because he made you feel wanted, even from miles away. He’s your safe zone, Hoseok reminded you, and that may mean not getting hurt because you know what to expect, or in the long-run, that may mean keeping other people out.

You drag your feet up the steps and glance at the closed door across the hall. Behind it is the one who, like your brother said - wants you, loves you, and he’s here. That’s something to think about, isn’t it?

You pointed out Hoseok’s change of allegiance, but he corrected that he was always on your side. Seeing how you’ve been the past weeks just clarified what that meant, but it’s up to you to make that decision.

Seeing Namjoon is important to you. This time, you know it won’t just be a casual catch up but a talk of what would now become of you. There’s so much history between the two of you - of love, forgiveness, sacrifice, and you can’t just leave that behind. You’ll be losing something whatever you do, and you didn’t hold onto his promise only to cut short of knowing if he’ll keep it, if it’ll work out, if it was all worth it in the end.

Mr. Lim picks up your luggage from your room and heads out to put it in the car. You follow after, wondering where Jin is because he’d left his door open. You walk downstairs and find him standing in the living room, hands in his pockets, and a smile tinged with sadness on his face.

“You have a safe trip, alright?” He says. “Could you, uh, could you let me know when you land?”

“I will,” you smile.

He nods, his gaze lingering, before he takes you in a hug. “Take care there, okay?” He whispers. “Don’t eat just anything because you can still get an infection.”

You respond with a tightened hold around his waist. It feels like it’s been so long since you last held him, got close to him, felt him.

“I will,” you whisper.

He tenderly kisses your forehead, lingering, and somehow this feels different.

“You’ll miss your flight. Go on,” he lets go. “Goodbye, ___.”

You wave back and get inside the car. Why did it feel exactly that - a goodbye?

As you head towards someone and leave someone else behind, somehow it’s the latter you can’t stop thinking about - Jin, and his soft eyes that were trying to tell you something. Jin, and his bread cheeks and his sweet smile and his infectious laugh that you miss. Jin, and the comfort of his voice and the tenderness of his touch.

He’s all you’ve been thinking about, but with just a few hours away of seeing Namjoon, you try to fill your mind with him; this is a long time coming, and you know you have to focus on this trip to get that closure you know you need.

You remember the envelope with his letters, and the ones you’ve written since coming back from France. It’s in your carry-on luggage, and as you search for it in between a few of your clothes, you find something else.

There’s a brown envelope with a note plastered on it, and you can easily identify your husband’s handwriting.

I know what this trip would mean. You’ve talked a lot about seeing him again and making plans this time. And much as I can’t deny what I feel for you, I feel like it’s too late. You deserve love, ___. I hope what I can give is enough. In case it isn’t, then I’m gonna have to let you go.

You scramble to open it and see the contents inside, and your heart drops at what you find - divorce papers, signed, Kim Seokjin.

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