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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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kyoho | ksj

You love your grape boy, and your grape boy... well, he might just love you a little too much.

pairing: seokjin x f!reader

rating: pg13

genre/warnings: established relationship, swearing bc when is there no swearing in my fics, mentions of seggs, suggestive themes, fluff, crack?? idk, my brand of fics is Unedited y'all know that's how we roll

word count: 1.8k

notes: i've been buying a lot of grapes lately (am i a grape person now??) and i've been eating them almost every day and of course i had to think about grape jinnie my beloved, my ultimate favorite seokjin and i want him to come back to me :((( idk that's how this lil thang came to me lmao it's the most crackhead shit i've ever written sOoOoOoOo please laugh or else ! 👿 jk but not really

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"If you do this, we're done."

"Y/N."

"I swear, if you go through with this, we are over!"

Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly not expecting you to be so passionate about the subject at hand. "The appointment is in an hour," he says.

"Cancel it. I don't care!" you cry. "Please don't do this. Don't take him away. He means the world to me."

Your boyfriend stares at you, mouth agape, then points to his head incredulously. "Him? My hair?"

"Yes!" You crawl over to his side of the couch to straddle his lap, actual tears welling in your eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and silky it feels in your hands. His gorgeous, gorgeous purple locks. The ones he's ready to sacrifice in favor of half blond, half red hair by demand of one Jeon Jungkook.

You shouldn't be this upset over him dyeing his hair, but you are, despite knowing full well that the purple will be gone soon anyway. His dark roots are starting to show already.

It's shark week, and there are not enough words in the dictionary to express how devastated you are that he's taking away your emotional support Grape Jinnie.

A couple months ago, when he told you that he'd be dyeing his hair purple, you were highly skeptical of the decision. You didn't know if he had the face to pull off purple of all colors, even though you had already seen him sport every other color of the rainbow and absolutely rocked every single one.

The whole week leading up to his salon appointment, you teased him endlessly - started calling him Grape Boy, bought him box after box of Kyoho grapes, photoshopping Kylie Jenner's purple hair onto his head and making it your lockscreen... It was mostly just grape puns, you were really milking that whole thing.

But then he came home, hair freshly bleached and colored, and your jaw dropped to the ground and stayed there for ten whole minutes.

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets from how good he looked.

No, he didn't just look good. He was stunning, breathtaking, mindbogglingly beautiful and all the other synonyms that one could name.

The man fucking ate and left no crumbs.

That night was one of the best sex you two have ever had.

To say that you were obsessed with this shade on him is the understatement of the year.

"Don't do it," you plead. "If you really love me, you won't do it."

"You're being so dramatic. It's just hair." Seokjin puts his hands on your waist while you keep yours on his head, clutching his strands like a lifeline. "Plus, I have to honor the bet!"

Your expression turns stony then, as your eyes travel from the silky purple down to his face. You tighten your grip on his hair and tug on it sharply until your boyfriend is scowling in discomfort.

The bet. The stupid fucking bet he made with Jungkook.

You had explicitly told him there no chance in hell that he could win, but Seokjin could be an overly confident asshole sometimes.

He was in way over his head, and now you're the one suffering.

"You idiot," you hiss, pulling on his hair again, "why the fuck did you think you could do more pushups than Jungkook?"

"I don't know! We were tipsy and it seemed possible at the time!"

Releasing his hair, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

"Why am I being punished for your actions?" you mumble against his skin, then you ask, voice full of futile hope. "What if you just... don't do it?"

"Then I have to buy him a new mattress. He cut his mattress with scissors to make it fit into his bed frame and now it's all fucked up."

You give yourself a minute to think. There has to be a solution to your distress. You just gotta think. Think, brain, think!

And then you remember. Seokjin is still a man.

You lean back to look at him properly, straightening your position on his lap. You give him your biggest puppy dog eyes before you say, "I promise I will blow you every day from now on if you keep the hair."

If he was drinking water, you're fairly certain that he would've choked. Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise, his skin turning a dozen shades warmer, blushing from his cheeks all the way to the top of his ears.

Bingo.

"What?" he asks, like this is something so scandalous.

You lean forward to pepper kisses all over his face, putting more weight on your offer. "I promise," you say, pecking his cute cheek, "to blow you," then his forehead, "every single day," then his nose, "from now on," and finally his lips.

You linger near his mouth, not pulling away just yet. Your lips brush against his once more until you feel his hands tighten on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you press forward, giving him a proper kiss to seal the deal.

Seokjin practically melts underneath you. Victory is so close that you can taste it. You're doing this for the greater good of mankind, for Grape Jinnie. Jungkook can fuck off with his half seasoned, half fried bullshit.

But then, Seokjin abruptly rips away from you to shriek, nearly blowing your eardrums out. The suddenness of his movements almost make you tumble off the couch.

"No, don't try to tempt me! Mattresses are expensive as fuck!"

It's been a few hours. He should be back any minute now.

Ever since Seokjin left to go to his hair appointment after having to peel you off of him because you were clinging to his body like a goddamn koala, you've been wallowing in your misery. You even busted out the big guns - Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream (with real peanut butter cups!) - to help you through this difficult time.

You're in full grieving mode now. Goddamnit. Fate is a cruel mistress.

Or in this case, Jungkook. Jungkook is a cruel mistress. That fucking guy.

When you hear the door open and the subsequent clanging of Seokjin's keys as he hangs them on one of the hooks in the entryway, you prepare to give him the biggest pout you can manage.

But then, he comes into view a few seconds later, and you gasp. You actually gasp. Before he knows what's happening, you're rising from the couch and sprinting toward him, launching into his arms with the biggest smile on your face like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You're still a grape!" you squeal joyously.

Seokjin lets out a surprise Oof! at the sudden force of your body knocking the breath out of him.

"What a warm welcome," he mutters. "I don't think you've ever been this happy to see me."

"What happened?!" you ask, eyes wide, grin even wider. "Did you change your mind because you love me so much?"

You run your hands through his hair to make sure that it's real, that you're not hallucinating this because you just love the purple so goddamn much.

And it is! It's still here! His hair is still that luscious shade of purple that you adore with your entire being.

Seokjin eyes you for a moment before he says, "I compromised with Jungkook. Did something else instead."

"What did you do?"

"I got a tattoo."

"You what?!"

"He said I wouldn't have to dye my hair if I got a tattoo of his choosing."

"Oh, no," you try to sound sympathetic but fail miserably. You cover your mouth with your hand to hide your smile, already sensing the absolute crackhead chaos that will ensue in a matter of minutes. Having been friends with Jungkook for years, you know that dude comes up with the craziest shit sometimes.

Seokjin turns around and pulls up his shirt, and you almost die from the fit of ugly snorting laughter that immediately rips itself free from your mouth. His skin underneath the transparent cling film is still slightly red, but the letters adorning the expanse of his lower back is clear as day.

You cannot find it in yourself to blink, not when the black ink is just staring at you like that. The font, so formal and classic, and yet the content of it... what a contrast.

"Kim Seokjin!" you wheeze, wiping tears from your eyes and struggling to catch your breath. "How could you possibly think that this is a better idea than to just dye your hair!"

"You begged me to keep the hair!"

"I did," you agree, clutching your stomach as giggles continue wracking through your whole body. It's almost painful at this point. "But I don't want my boyfriend to have a tramp stamp that says fucking Chicken in Times New Roman!"

"It was either this," he says, turning back to face you, "or a sketch of his head on a chicken's body."

"What is up with him and chickens? Is that his new thing now?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"Well, thank you for doing that for me," you say appreciatively as you pull him in for a kiss, which isn't very graceful because you're still tittering the whole time. "But please tell me that's not permanent."

Seokjin stays quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor, and you stop laughing immediately.

"Oh my god," you say. "Is the Chicken tramp stamp permanent?!"

"No," he finally admits after a moment of hanging it over your head. As funny as the whole thing is, you do not want the love of your life to walk around sporting the most ridiculous tattoo in human history. "It's supposed to fade after a month."

You lean into him again, heaving a giant sigh of relief and wrapping your arms around his neck. One of your hands go for his hair again, weaving through the soft locks with your fingers because how could you not? "I love you, Grape," you say, pecking his cheek with a grin.

Seokjin rolls his eyes affectionately, but returns a peck to your own cheek. "I have a tramp stamp of the word Chicken and my parents might disown me for that, but at least you get to keep your Grape Boy," he says, making you giggle again.

"Because you love me so much, right?"

"Hmm. You're lucky I do."

You give him another kiss, one full of gratitude, for indulging your antics. When you move to return to the couch, Seokjin tugs on your wrist, pulling you back into him.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," he says, acting all coy and shit, "but I recall you making me a promise earlier, no? What was it again?"

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sailoryooons · 7 months

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Trick or Treat!🎃

Kit kat+ Frankenstein + The Addams Family!

Happy Haliween!!🕸🎃💜💚

☾ Pairing: Serial Killer! Seokjin x Serial Killer!f. reader

☾ Summary: For as long as you’ve worked at the upscale grocery store in the northern part of the city, you’ve hated Seokjin. He’s charming and smooth and you’re always fighting for employee of the month. It isn’t until you both show up at a house in the middle of the night that you realize how much you have in common.

☾ Word Count: 3,245

☾ Genre: Enemies to Lovers(ish), Slasher, A little humor

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Thoughts about murder, references to murder, reflection on being a murderer - literally, this is a drabble about two serial killers, they do not actually commit murder in this but literally the entire subject is MURDER!! Like reader thinks about killing people multiple times, this is disturbing but not necessarily graphic, and there are overall just. Themes of insanely morally corrupt people. Also contains explicit language, breaking into homes, knives and threats, stalking, prepping to murder someone, profiling people to be victims, sexual tension, and implications. Ambiguous ending, we don’t know if they kill their victim.

☾ Published: October 8, 2023

☾ A/N: I am so sorry if you don’t like strange serial killers to lovers(ish), but for this Haliween trick you have selected Kit Kat + Frankenstein + The Addam's Family which equals Seokjin, Enemies to Lovers, and slasher! I kept this light-hearted and there’s no actual murder or anything, but this is absolutely unhinged and was an experience for me to write from the POV of a killer. I hope you love these two competitive lunatics with zero moral compasses discovering they have more in common than they think!

☾ A/N 2: Mini shoutout to @minisugakoobies and @daechwitatamic for their input on my ruminating about what to do with this Haliween combination. Their musings inspire this wild little masterpiece and I could not have gotten the brain chugging without their comments.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests

NOTE: TUMBLR PHYSICALLY WILL NOT LET ME ADD A READ MORE LINK TO THIS EVEN IN HTML, THEREFORE I WILL NOT REBLOG ANY REVIEWS OF THIS FOR THAT REASON AS OF NOV. 27 2023

There are days you wonder if you should kill Seokjin.

It would be too complicated, though. Not only would someone notice if he doesn’t show up to work, but it’s too close to home. Murders should always be removed. There should be no connections between you and the victim. Anything within seven degrees of separation is far too close.

And everyone knows you hate him.

Hate the way he charms everyone else so effortlessly. There isn’t a soul at the store who doesn’t like him except maybe you. He is perfect. Not a hair out of place, his handsome features painfully symmetrical and alluring, his ease with people so crystalline that you want to scream. Glasses that are perfectly perched on his perfect nose. Effortlessly chic hair. A knockout mouth structure.

It’s hard to imagine anyone is that perfect, but it appears Seokjin is. No matter how much digging you do, you never find anything incriminating. There’s nothing. He hardly seems to exist outside of the store.

You hate him for it. Especially when you see he has beaten you for employee of the month again. Seokjin walks into the break room, looking at the announcement on the board. He smirks when he sees it, eyes coasting over to you. The grin grows and he shrugs.

“What can I say?”

“Nothing, ideally,” you offer.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

You feel your eye twitch. You imagine how satisfying it would be to smash his teeth in. To feel the bone break beneath your foot, to hear the crunch.

The thought of it makes you smile and turn to him, suddenly calm again. “Congratulations, Seokjin. I look forward to celebrating with you during our meeting.”

Tying an apron around your waist, you leave the break room and head out onto the floor. Your calm intensifies, muscles loosen. The store is not open yet. Outside, the world is gray. The fluorescent lights shine down on the perfectly lined aisles, every item in place. Above, soft music plays.

Mornings at the grocery store like this are second only to the high of watching the light fade from someone’s eyes. Here, you are alone and in peace. You feel the quiet of the world, undisturbed. Like a god walking through the land of their creation while everything is asleep.

But it’s when you see someone looking at you as they embrace death that you know you are a god. You are the final thing they see, and right before they fade, they see you as their ender. Their maker.

Seokjin might be able to take the employee of the month from you, but he cannot have this. These two moments. Different sides of the same coin. He could never understand the power that peace and death give you.

No one else understands. No one else could.

When the store opens, your day unfolds. It is an upscale grocery store with organic foods, fresh pressed juice and swollen, ripe strawberries. You see all manner of people come in and out: assistants doing the shopping for their wealthy employers, socialites snapping pictures of their smoothies and juices, the upper class toting name-brand bags and watches as they hand over metal credit cards.

It is disgusting, in a way. But in your way, it’s become beautiful. A hunting ground for people who jet around the world so often, no one will know if they go missing. You’re always so so careful with your marks. They have to be right. Perfect. You have to spend weeks making sure they are the one.

The one problem with this ritual is how long it takes. The need to feel that power and the need for safety and caution wage a war inside of you, neither giving ground to the other. It’s been months since you’ve had a fix, and with Seokjin’s employee of the month win, you know it’s time to sift through your options.

Your list is small. The sweet, doe-eyed boy Jungkook is an easy mark in the sense that he has a very small social circle, his life is built on routine, and he is wildly trusting. Because of his routine, though, he might present a problem when he goes missing. That, and he is physically a danger to you if you don’t knock him out first.

Taehyung isn’t bad, either. He comes and goes, traveling the world and staying in hostels, losing his passports across countries and sharing all of his travels on social media. He lives loosely enough that if he vanished, it would take a while for anyone to find him. But that social media feed of his would eventually attract attention.

When Hoseok gets into your line, you feel your heart stutter. Perfect Hoseok. He is quiet and solitary, a fashion designer who often vanishes for long periods at a time. He doesn’t leave his quiet, lofty mansion in the hills often when he is in a fit of designing for a new season, and he is prone to hospitalizations for working himself near to death.

Perfect Hoseok, who smiles like Apollo and smells like the sun. He is an entity. A light that you cannot help but stare at. And you decide him. What would it be like, to see someone like Hoseok look at you and beg. Please. Like you’re his god. The only thing between him and death.

Your palms get sweaty as your line shortens. He’s just four back - it’s a busy day - but you try to get through your customers quickly. You want to make small talk with him. To get his weekend plans.

And then Seokjin steps into the register next to you even though he’s supposed to be on break, and he turns the light on. “Hoseok! Come on over, let’s get you through.”

Rage. You stop ringing up items. The conveyor belt hums and the products on top of it begin to pile up. White noise roars in your ears. You watch as Hoseok gets out of your line and swaps to Seokjin’s. They shake hands and start talking, Seokjin leaning back with a laugh.

High-pitched ringing sings in your ears as you watch Seokjin bag Hoseok’s items and offer to walk him out to the car after flicking the light off at his register.

“Ma’am?” You blink and the ringing vanishes. The man in front of you stares, raising his brows. His cat-like eyes are sharp and concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you rasp, voice suddenly dry. It’s a lie. “Yeah.”

“Do you like stealing my customers?” you ask Seokjin, pressing the knife down hard through the apple you’re cutting at the break room counter. “Is that how you got employee of the month? Turning on your light to ring up one person and then fucking off?”

“Ooo,” Seokjin answers, closing the fridge with his hip. “We are still touchy about my great awards, are we?”

“You know that was a bitch move.” You slam the knife down on the cutting board. It’s a Wüsthof Classic Butcher Knife, which is wildly obnoxious for cutting fruit. And, you realize belatedly, it’s from Seokjin’s personal collection. You file it away, wondering what he knows about good knives. “Stay the fuck away from my business when I’m working.”

“Hoseok isn’t yours.”

His tone makes you look up. Seokjin’s demeanor shifts, a chameleon adapting to a hostile environment. The telltale signs of his true annoyance are all there: red ears, vacant eyes, blank face. His shark face. You see it so rarely that it shocks you to see it now.

It’s in moments like this where… he is almost your mirror.

“He was in my line.”

“Funny how that isn’t the same thing.”

“Customer poaching is desperate.” You pick the knife back up and slice through the apple, hearing the crisp, wet crunch like breaking a bone to get to marrow. “Are you that desperate, Jin?”

From the corner of your eye, you see his fingers twitch. For a split second, you think he might grab the knife. A flutter of excitement runs through you, unfettered. You wait to see what he does, holding your breath as you slowly turn to look at him.

Is he going to do it?

The moment clings to the air a moment longer. Then Namjoon opens a shelf and spills several boxes of granola, shattering the weaving tension between you and Seokjin. He takes a step back and you turn back toward your fruit, knife abandoned.

When he leaves, a shiver runs up your spine, quite unsure what that was.

You also think that perhaps Seokjin is... more attractive than you give him credit for.

Two weeks. You tap through your phone, lighting up your face in the dark of your room. Hoseok will begin his descent into designing for his Spring collection in two weeks. It’s the perfect amount of time to prepare yourself, to begin the ritual of hunting. To watch, notate, and practice.

You hit the button to turn off the lock screen and you’re bathed in darkness.

Two weeks and you can feel the rush again.

Two weeks and you’ll be fed on the high for months.

Not even Seokjin can get you down at work. You look at your time requested off on the calendar every morning you clock in. A blissful spread of days in which you’ll need to prepare, execute, and come down for the euphoria before coming back to work.

No amount of goading from Seokjin can upset you this week. You are locked in. Focused. So honed on your rapidly approaching desire that nothing can bring you down.

“Switch weekends with me,” Seokjin says, stepping in front of you before you can clock out. It’s late, both of you staying overtime to help unload a late shipment. You growl at him and try to jockey him out of the way, but he’s like iron. He doesn’t move. “I need that weekend off.”

“No.” Seokjin’s stance grows firmer. You push him again but he is unmovable, making your lip curl. You slowly start to drag your eyes to his, where he is pouting. “Move or I will make you.”

“That’s the best reaction I’ve gotten from you all week. What plans do you have, huh? A date night with a bubble bath and a vibrator?”

You frown. He isn’t entirely wrong. The need to lay in warm water in a post-kill daze and bring yourself to an orgasm is part of the after routine. Still, you manage to shove him aside and punch in your number.

“Please,” he says gently. “I need the weekend.”

“No. Not for you. Not in a million years.”

“What do you want? I’ll trade you anything.”

You face him after clocking out, giving him a wonderful smile. “You have nothing to offer me, Jin. I know you’re not used to hearing that.”

Slowly, Seokjin’s face changes. He goes from charming and warm and melts into something else. Ice in a glass, losing its form and weak attempt at holding false shape.

“You’re lucky we work together,” Seokjin murmurs. There is something dark in his voice. An abyss you’ve never heard from Seokjin, but you’ve touched yourself. It is the secret, dark voice of threat. Of promise. And then he grins, shrugging. “I guess I’ll ask around. Have fun with your sex toys.”

You watch Seokjin walk out and all you can think about is that low voice. That darkness. Like the thing that lives inside of you.

One day. Hoseok has locked himself away. His social media has gone quiet. You watch as the trash cans go without being taken out. No one comes. No one goes. The only light that remains on is the one in his second-floor office. Hoseok comes outside a single time to look at the rain as it comes down hard on a Thursday before going back inside and not coming out again.

Tomorrow.

You watch the office light go off at five in the morning.

Tomorrow.

Making a murder look like an accident is not easy. It is your least favorite method, in fact. You prefer people who vanish. A ghost is harder to trace than an accident. There are too many questions involved.

Hoseok, though, cannot be a ghost. You knew that when you picked him. You haven’t orchestrated an accident in some time, but you will now.

Hoseok likes to drink. He likes to fuel his designs with so much whiskey that sometimes he falls asleep in his office with the lights on at his desk, glass full. Other times, he crashes into furniture and knocks it over, shattering lamps and slipping down the stairs to get to his bedroom.

Tonight, you have everything you need. A little bit of Xanax, which he has a prescription for. A little bit of chloroform to help knock him out. Epinephrine for you to give you a carefully measured and tested boost of adrenaline and strength. Gloves. Wrapped shoes. A list of all the blind spots in his alarm system and its codes.

Crickets sing to you as you watch. You walked the full three hours to his home tonight. It was nice with the rush of cars around you and the crunch of your shoes on gravel. Once in the hills, you meticulously changed your clothes at a gas station, wiping off sweat and grime before taking the fifteen-minute trek into the lower hills where Hoseok lives.

Light pollution makes it hard to see the stars, but the world stretches out beyond you as you stand in the murky darkness of an unsold home across the street. For the past two weeks, you have been an impromptu gargoyle perched among the trees.

Hoseok should be happy he will not be around when someone moves in. The trees that offer the home privacy offer an entire vantage point to watch him through his uncurtained home. Even just climbing to other limbs gives you a view of other windows. Other ways in.

The way in though, is easiest through the backyard where his spa room leads outside to the pool. The spa door has no camera and is in the blind spot for the camera under the patio pavilion. It additionally is rarely locked, a feature of Hoseok’s home he rarely uses.

It takes five minutes to get from the spa bathroom to the office. His stairs are well-made and don’t squeak. He leaves no other lights on. It will be just you and the dark.

You look at your watch. It’s four in the morning. For the past few days, Hoseok has gone to bed at five. He’s made it all three days in a row, not falling asleep at his desk. Tonight, he will do the same thing. He will get up, turn the lights out, and head to his bedroom.

Except this time, you plan to be in the hall. A little chloroform. A little forced Xanax to make him weak when he wakes up and prevent him from fighting back. A jolt of adrenaline for you and a snap of his neck before he falls down the stairs and-

A shadow crosses the wall of Hoseok’s yard. You straighten in the tree, watching it make its way across the yard toward the back. Without even thinking about it, you move. The thought of someone breaking into the house and killing Hoseok by accident and stealing your high makes you bolt.

Your heart hammers. Your hands get sweaty. This isn’t how your night is supposed to go. You’re up and over the wall and sliding along the glass windows as you walk toward the spa bathroom door in a heartbeat. You feel rattled and out of sorts - not at all what you should be feeling on a night like this.

Any other time, you might call it quits. Should call it quits.

But you don’t. It’s been so long and Hoseok has been taking from you once this month already. You cannot let it happen again.

Like a shadow, you slide into the home. It is cold inside. Already you’re working out how to factor in another person. You had not intended to stage a home invasion, but the third person is a liability and a threat. You’ve never taken two at once before, and though the promise of what that might feel like makes you giddy, you also don’t know the math of this. You don’t know what this looks like.

And still you creep forward.

Hoseok’s house is modern art. It is all sleek edges and warm tones washed in art on the walls and sculptures. Thankfully, it is also big and full of negative space. Nothing gets in your way as you creep up the stairs, eyes swiveling back and forth as you look for where the intruder has gone.

When you get to the top of the stairs, the hair on the back of your neck tingles. You swivel, bringing up your hand just as a knife stops in front of your face, only restricted by the iron grip you have on your assailant's wrist. You know the make of it immediately. It’s a Wüsthof Classic Butcher Knife.

Neither of you move. You cannot make the features on your attacker's face. Slowly, you see their other arm come up. You somewhat see they are holding up a hand. A white flag. Trembling, you loosen your grip on their knife arm, your other hand wrapped firmly around the hunting knife sheathed at your thigh.

Together, you step away from Hoseok’s office door. One step. Two steps. A waltz backward and toward a guest room, where the door opens and you step inside with your opposite. Friend. Foe. You’re unsure.

Moonlight filters through the window and your counterpart steps backward into it.

Your breath catches in your chest and the urge to laugh suddenly takes you, swelling up so abruptly that you have to press your lips firmly shut to stop the madness from spilling out.

Seokjin looks good in all black, standing in the gray light of the moon. His shark eyes stare at you, face blank, waiting. The Wüsthof Classic Butcher Knife is still in his hand. It doesn’t shake. He holds it loose. Casual. A fast striker, you think.

“What a strange thing,” Seokjin whispers. “To see someone so unlike me be my very mirror. What are you doing here?”

“It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain,” you whisper back, recalling a quote from The Tell-Tale Heart. “But once conceived, it haunted me day and night.”

He hums. “They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

Hoseok opens the door in his office. You both freeze, listening to his stumbling steps as he clambers down his stairs. Not a sound slips between you as Hoseok shuts the bedroom door downstairs.

The silence is roaring.

“What well it be,” Seokjin whispers. “Friend or foe?”

You tap the handle of your knife. “I want to be employee of the month next month. Try less.”

“What do you like to do after?”

“What was it you said? Take a bubble bath with a vibrator?”

He sheaths the knife and offers a hand. “I can give you more.”

You carefully hold out a hand to him. Not an enemy. Not a friend. Perhaps… an equal. “We are the same, then?”

“A mirror.” He pulls you in a little, just enough that his mouth brushes against yours. You want to take that dive suddenly. To lean into him. Past atrocities are forgotten in light of this new, beautiful darkness you share. “A mirror.”

You descend the steps together, two workers from the store. And a little more.

#seokjin fic #jin fic #bts fic #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x you #jin x you #jin drabble #seojin thriller #seokjin imagines #jin imagines #haliween #minors do not interact #minors dni

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wintaerbaer · 8 months

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in between (ksj)

summary: It's nights like this that are embedded into your memory—your face fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of your head, your arms and legs thoroughly tangled together.

pairing: Seokjin x Reader

rating: all ages

genre: established relationship au

word count: 1.8k

warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, heavy angst, mentions of traumatic pregnancy/labor if you squint

a/n: this was originally a small piece i wrote for a class about a decade ago, which i then adjusted into a fic for a fandom that's no longer around. since i've never been able to get it out of my head, i figured it'd be fun to revise and re-release it again! dedicated to @btsborahaee who is apparently the angst demon that possessed me when i wrote it <3

MASTERLIST

He never fails to amaze you.

You lean in the doorway, watching as he cradles the baby to his chest and croons soft phrases of love into the girl's ear, trying to get her to fall back asleep. He's shirtless, flannel sleep pants slung low on his hips, bare feet pressed to the hardwood floor.

He's never looked more handsome in his life.

After a couple minutes of the baby's incessant cries, he moves to the rocking chair by the window in surrender. The moon turns his face a silvery white, highlighting the ruffled hair and stubbly shadow of a beard. You’ve never seen him with a considerable amount of facial hair before, and you don’t yet know how you feel about it.

He rocks back and forth gently—the chair creaking under him and the baby still whimpering pitifully in his arms. He doesn't see you as you watch him calm the child, whispering now. His voice is so low that it's hard to hear, but you definitely pick up something that sounds like "So pretty. Just like mommy."

Amazing how he can make you smile even when he doesn't intend to.

His quiet whispers mollify the baby faster than would seem possible, and it's not long before the girl has drifted off to sleep, tiny face pressed into his bare chest. He continues to gently sway in the chair, staring at the wall, and when he shifts his head, you can see that his eyes are shining.

The sight of his tears has you backing out of the doorframe and padding down the hall, feeling sick to your stomach. The walls around you are so horrifyingly blank and merely add to your growing anxiety. You wonder how long they'll stay that way.

You take the stairs down to the living room, not knowing what to do except make yourself scarce. You pace around the room, dodging all sorts of new things for the baby—items that haven't found a place in your home yet and are therefore just sitting in the living room until they do. Somebody really should make an effort to clean it up, but no one has the time.

It's eerily quiet down here. The only sounds are the soft ticking of the clock in the kitchen and the occasional creak from the rocking chair upstairs. Moonlight filters in through the window, casting a glow upon the room that should be calming; instead, it highlights all of the objects haphazardly strewn about the couch and the table and the floor, and the overall effect is nothing short of creepy.

You take a seat on the couch, right next to a stuffed elephant that stares up at you with beady eyes—a gift from one of your aunts or some distant cousin. You run your hands over the tiny thing, wondering what its fate will be. A future favorite of your daughter's perhaps? Or will he be condemned to a life in one of the closets? His melancholy gaze seems to ask you why you even care in the first place, and truth be told, you don’t really know. Maybe you just identify with him at the moment, with a fate so unpredictable and currently feeling as though you’re stuck in some kind of middle ground where you’re neither homeless nor sheltered.

The sound of a door closing startles you from your thoughts. Slipping across the study and into your bedroom, you find Seokjin lying on the bed wide awake, his eyes still glistening. Crawling in next to him, you press yourself into his side, stretching your body over warm skin. It's nights like this that are embedded into your memory—your face fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of your head, your arms and legs thoroughly tangled together. You lie together in near silence, his ragged breathing the only thing disturbing the quiet. You squeeze closer, willing him to sleep just as he had done with your daughter moments ago.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispers as his eyes finally slip shut.

"I know," you tell him. "I know."

You’re sitting in the kitchen when you hear the front door open and shut.

"Honey, I'm home." His voice drifts to you from the foyer, the first lines of a ritual you had created in jest during college when you’d return to your shared apartment after days of classes.

"Hello, dear. How was work today?" is the traditional response you call back.

"Just swell, sweetheart. Just swell." He'd usually laugh after that, unable to contain his boyish amusement over how cheesy it is, but when he delivers the line today, his voice is soft and sober.

He hesitates by the stairs, leaning ever so slightly against the railing and kneading his forehead with the heel of his hand. He takes in the sight of the kitchen with all of the food that is lying around, practically covering every surface. Sighing, he moves to the sink, pressing his hands against the counter.

You stare at him, not knowing what to do, when his legs suddenly buckle and he's sliding down to the floor, shaking with sobs.

You leap to your feet, rushing over to where he's sitting up with his back against the counter and his knees pulled up nearly to his chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you brush your lips against his forehead, his ear, whispering anything and everything and just begging him to stop. Because, dammit, Jungkook and Hobi are right upstairs taking care of the baby and you don't want anyone else to see him like this. Not when he's been doing so well.

It's not long before you find that your own cheeks are wet, tears stinging your eyes. You hate having to see him this broken, hate even more how there's nothing you can do to help, how all you can do is hold him and pray that he'll get better.

Roughly ten minutes pass before his friends come bustling down the stairs to see what the commotion is. Even they can't help crying as they join you on the floor, offering hugs and words of comfort as he continues to break down.

Another half hour passes before he finally manages to compose himself and goes upstairs to see your daughter.

You huddle outside the bedroom door, listening to Seokjin read the girl a bedtime story. Your daughter is so incredibly quiet, soaking up the words like a dry sponge. Occasionally she'll ask a question about the story or one of the characters, but for the most part, she doesn't say a word—she barely even moves.

When the story is over, you hear your husband shifting around, closing the book and putting it back on its shelf in the corner.

"Daddy?" comes your daughter's voice after a moment.

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"Did Snow White and the prince live happily ever after?"

You hear a creak as he sits back down on the side of the bed. "Yeah, sweetie, they lived happily ever after. They got married and had a beautiful little girl just like you." There's a squeal as he leans down to tickle her.

Once your daughter's laughter has subsided, she asks another question, "Daddy, did you and mommy live happily ever after?"

There is a pregnant pause where everything in the world seems to go completely still in anticipation of his answer.

"Yeah," he eventually says, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Yeah, we did."

The sound of rustling sheets fills the void as he properly tucks her in. "You need to get some sleep now. You have a big day tomorrow."

"School!" she squeals.

"That's right, baby. School."

"Is mommy going to visit me tonight since it's a big day tomorrow?"

You hear him take a ragged breath. These questions must be taking their toll on him. "Mommy visits you every night, sweetie."

"Because she loves me?" your daughter asks.

"Yeah, because she loves you."

There's a pause as the girl thinks this over. "I love mommy too, daddy."

"I know, baby. Me too." And he must be crying now because there's a telling catch in his voice.

But that's okay because there are tears streaming down your own face.

You peek your head in the doorway, watching him press a kiss to the girl's forehead before he stands, turning off the light as he leaves the room. When he passes you, you examine his face--dark shadows that weren't there five years ago lurk under his eyes and his cheekbones are more prominent than they used to be. But still, you’re proud of the fact that he hasn't completely let himself go.

Once he's gone down the hall and disappeared down the stairs, you move into your daughter's room and sit on the edge of the bed, just as Seokjin had done only moments before.

The girl is completely buried under the covers with only her head sticking out. She's a tiny little thing, with her father's dark eyes and her mother's smile. And she's smart. She's so incredibly smart, with one hell of an imagination to match.

You run your fingers over your daughter's face, her hair, but not touching—no, never touching. You can't. You simply can't. Can't touch; can't feel. Most days, you don't know if this existence that you’re living is a blessing or a curse. Because you get to see your little girl grow up, but you do this knowing that your child will never know you—she'll never know the mother who died giving her life. And on top of that, you also bear witness to every second of your husband's grief.

But right now, looking down at your daughter, you just can't regret getting to see her grow older.

You brush your lips against the girl's forehead, her nose, her cheek. Then you make yourself pull away, whispering a "Good luck tomorrow, baby" before you stand up, taking note, as you always do, of the plush elephant that's sitting on the nightstand and bathing in moonlight.

And then you leave, taking the familiar trip downstairs and into your bedroom (because no matter what it will always be your bedroom) where your husband is lying on the bed, eyes wide open. This, too, has become a sort of ritual for the two of you, even though he doesn't really know it. And yet, he never seems to be able to sleep until you’re cuddled into his side.

"I love you, Y/N," he always says right before he closes his eyes.

"I know," is your reply. "I know."

a/n: sorry :') please remember to like/reblog!

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin angst #seokjin fic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin imagines

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dawnagustd · 1 year

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bruised || ksj

⇝ title: bruised - Seokjin is intentionally trying to make your day harder but two can play that game. ⇝ pairing: seokjin x f!reader ⇝ genre: smut ⇝ rating: 18+ ⇝ word count: 1k ⇝ warnings: unedited | strong language | a bit of mma training/fighting | seokjin with tattoos is definitely a warning | not so decent public acts | dry humping/grinding | scissoring/tribing.. whatever you want to call that but (yeah, i said it) | dom!reader | sub!seokjin | they both have a small crushing fetish | wrist pinning | ruined orgasm | open ending ⇝ author’s note: Written for the Catch of the Century collab. Thanks for having me and sorry it’s late.

read on ao3

“Asshole!”

Your flesh smacks the mat as your body is slammed hard. Once again, Seokjin has managed to make you look like an idiot. The gym has been closed for hours now, but he still wants to practice and make you suffer for a vendetta he has against you.

“If you fight like this next week, you’re going to be the biggest disappointment in history,” he taunts.

You lie on your back, allowing your head to loll in his direction. As he brings the water bottle to his lips, he glances over at you, catching you in the act. Quickly, you revert your gaze to the ceiling.

As you’re focusing on the light fixtures, you curse your trainer for checking out on you and sending his egocentric son as his replacement. Someone you haven’t seen since your rookie career. The same guy that was so sure he’d hook up with you but was left in shambles when you rejected him.

You groan and pull yourself up, feeling his eyes follow you.

“Will you stop it? You know you aren’t trying to help me.”

You don’t have anything against him, but he just irks your nerves.

You sit on the ropes, tying your shoelaces before you two go at it again. When you look up, you find him removing his hoodie. His white loose-fitting tank does not cover any of the ink drawings covering his biceps and forearms. Again, he catches you staring, making you want to slap yourself for feeding into his already overflowing confidence.

“Then why am I here?”

You see that he’s getting into position again, so you mimic his stance. The smirk on his face only riles you up, and you make up your mind that he’ll be the one who hits the mat this time.

“One more,” he suggests. “If you can handle me.”

“Handle you?”

When he nods, you can’t help but laugh.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“You can be full of me too if you want,” he winks.

Your mouth falls open after hearing his lewd remark. “You’re so disgusting.”

“I heard you were into that.”

“I’ll kill you!”

You get into position, and he counts down, rushing you at the final second, but this time he’s unsuccessful. He’s been relying on his strength to overpower you, but you have speed, and you use it to your advantage.

Seokjin’s back hits the mat with a thud and his eyes grow wide when you straddle him. He’s too shocked to move, but he can’t anyway because your thighs are squeezing him tight.

“Aw. That’s the same face you were wearing when I said I didn’t want your number,” you tease. “It hurts to take a loss, doesn’t it?”

“Get off me.”

His tone turns bitter, and you relish the moment of his defeat.

“Do you really want me to?”

He almost chokes. “Uh..”

“Uh?”

“Not really,” he gulps.

You can feel his palms starting to sweat as you pin his wrists to the mat.

“Well, tell me where I should sit.”

“Maybe a little lower?”

You lift a brow, smirking as his face begins to turn red.

“I think I know what you want, Seokjin.”

You drop your ass right on his crotch, drawing a whimper from his lips.

“I can handle you. But can you handle me?” you quiz.

The bulge growing in his pants presses against your center, piquing your curiosity more and more. Your thin spanks don’t provide much of a barrier, so you can feel everything.

Though you aren’t fond of Seokjin, you are interested in knowing if the “good reviews” are accurate. You can’t tolerate his large ego, but when he’s turning into a puddle beneath you, he’s more enjoyable.

“I was made for this.”

“Oh.”

You release his wrists from your grasp and place your hands on his broad shoulders. The first thing he does is touch your thighs and his slender fingers begin to explore your skin.

With your weight smothering his cock, you glide back and forth, using the friction to stimulate your clit. Seokjin bites back his moans, not wanting to appear worked up so easily but you make it your priority to make him lose control quickly.

You move into a different position, putting your knee on the mat while your other leg is thrown over his body. You can feel his dick jumping, his thigh muscles tightening like he has tension building in his core. He begs, but you don’t show him any pity.

“You have to take it easy,” he pants. “I might–”

“Come in your pants? I hope you do–”

“Hey, are you almost done? I gotta lock up.”

You’re quickly standing on your feet as the custodian’s voice travels through the empty gym. Seokjin does the same and the two of you pretend as if nothing’s happened.

“We’ll just be a few more minutes,” Seokjin answers.

The man is annoyed but agrees and leaves the room. Seokjin grabs your arm before you can rush and gather your belongings.

“This isn’t over,” he mutters.

You pat his chest with a smile.

“I never said it was. Meet me in the showers?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“Well, you should go get it ready while I grab my shit, yeah?”

He nods. “For sure.”

Seokjin leaves the cage and makes his way to the locker rooms. Little does he know; you won’t be joining him. You pack your bag and rush to your car to head home.

You’ll tend to his bruised ego eventually, but right now, you’ll enjoy having fun with him.

#seokjin x reader #bts x reader #seokjin smut #bts smut #btsafterdarknet #thekpopuniverse #btshoneyhive #bangtansorciere #kvanity #bts fanfics #seokjin fanfics #bts imagines #seokjin imagines #sugakookitty

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effortandmore · 1 month

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caught looking: chapter 3 (knj x ksj)

summary: of course Seokjin has heard the rumors. most of them boil down to this: kim namjoon will get fired from the kiwoom heroes after this season is over. he’s the kbo’s youngest manager in history, one of korea’s darlings, always on every 30 under 30 list, and everyone is sure he’s about to tumble from the tower he’s built. or, namjoon is probably going to lose his job and seokjin is probably never going to make his dad proud, but they have a better shot at overcoming those two things together than they ever have alone.

pairing: seokjin x namjoon

rating: e for everyone for now but there is adult content in later chapters so no minors pls

genre: etl, fluff, eventual smut

au: baseball, specifically the kbo

warnings/tags: idk... swearing, drinking, and general sports things? some blackmail kind of and discussions of homophobia in sports. eventual smut of the gay variety.

wc: chapter- 4400

chapter summary: maybe kim namjoon isn't so bad

here are chapters one and two if you'd like them. or the whole thing is on ao3 here . as always, this is for @ugh-yoongi without whom i would not have written this, so thank you because it's been very fun

Seokjin’s favorite things to do on a Saturday night include: catching up on webtoons, playing MapleStory, watching American reality shows and wondering if the subtitles are actually real because he can’t believe people talk like that, and doing elaborate skin care routines with Hoseok while they get wine-drunk and gossip about the men Hoseok meets on the rare nights he goes out.

His least favorite thing to do is to go clubbing in Itaewon after the day has already turned into the next one, getting hit on by strangers, and wondering what all the vodka and second-hand cigarette smoke is doing to his face.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what he finds himself doing this Saturday.

After a week of losses at work, he’s managed to convince Yoongi (and, in turn, his father) to sign the second baseman they’d discussed the week before, as well as a shortstop from Samsung. They’re both small and fast. Neither of them can hit the long ball, but they get on base, and what’s better is that they can both field. He should be celebrating this victory by kicking some random teenager’s ass in Overwatch, but instead, he’s leaning against a (probably sticky) bartop in Itaewon, watching his roommate dance his worries away amidst a sea of men who all seem interested in taking him home.

Seokjin supposes being able to move one’s body like that gives Hoseok an advantage in places like this. Fortunately for him, he’s never needed to dance to pick up, although he finds himself a little jealous of his roommate’s aptitude for it. Hoseok has been taking street dancing classes since Seokjin can remember, and he’s dragged Seokjin to a few over the years, but it’s not ever really been his thing.

Saying no to Hoseok has never really been his thing, either, he realizes, or he wouldn’t be here in the sweaty, dark club, tucked in a basement on a side street.

“Hey!” A voice calls from behind him, and someone taps him on the shoulder. He turns around to see someone who looks vaguely familiar. Short, muscular, with silver hair and pouty lips. He’s attractive. He’s—

“Park Jimin! You’re Kim Seokjin, right? We met last week. I work with you!”

He’s Park Jimin, trainer for the Heroes. And there have been a few times in the past where his work life has collided with his personal life, but it’s never happened so quickly before. He’s instantly a little nervous.

“Oh, hi!” Seokjin takes a quick swallow of his drink and sets it down so he can wipe the condensation off his hands. “It’s uh… I mean… I don’t usually run into people from work when I’m… out.”

Jimin laughs and it’s instantly endearing. “I see what you did,” he says. “Out. When you’re out. Because we’re at a gay club!”

Someone approaches them from the side, putting a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “Sorry, my friend’s a little—Seokjin-ssi?”

Oh, shit. Because it’s not someone with their hand on Jimin’s shoulder, it’s Kim Namjoon with his hand on Jimin’s shoulder. Seokjin panics a little; he doesn’t talk to people at work about being gay, only Yoongi. For years, it’s only been Yoongi. Baseball players, baseball executives… they’re less friendly than average people about queerness. It’s just not something they talk about. But he’s here, so there’s really no question. He hates when people say things like—

“I’m just here for my friend,” Namjoon blurts out.

Jimin and Seokjin both look at him, eyebrows high and lips pursed. “Oh, come on, Namjoon,” Jimin says, “we’re all here, aren’t we?”

Namjoon looks nervous, a little pale, like he’d turn and run out the door if Jimin wasn’t staring him down. He runs a hand through his hair and gives a sheepish smile. “Yeah, sorry. You’re right, Jiminie. We’re all here. So…”

He’s interrupted by Hoseok, sliding up to their group, skin sweat-slicked and a little out of breath. “Hey! Introduce me to your friends, hyung,” he says breathily before taking a swig of his water bottle.

“This is Park Jimin, and this is Kim Namjoon,” Seokjin says, gesturing to his co-workers. “We work together. And this is Jung Hoseok, my roommate.”

Hoseok practically vibrates with excitement. “Kim Namjoon!” he practically yells. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

Seokjin wants to evaporate. It’s not the vodka that’s making his face feel hot, he’s sure. Who lets this many people into these clubs anyway? It’s got to be a fire hazard. “Who wants a drink?” he interrupts.

Jimin is watching all of them carefully, but especially Hoseok. Seokjin wonders if there’s something going on between Namjoon and the trainer, if Jimin thinks Hoseok is interested in Namjoon, if that’s why he’s paying such close attention. It’s not a thing you ask your new co-worker, though. “Oh hey, I know I didn’t remember your name, but are you dating the man I just ran into you with at the gay club?” Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. And he doesn’t get the opportunity, anyway. Jimin stays behind with Hoseok, claiming to be more interested in dancing than another drink, and Namjoon follows Seokjin to the bar.

“Just a beer,” Namjoon shouts when the bartender acknowledges them. “And whatever he wants.”

Seokjin’s a little surprised, he’s older, after all. He should be buying. “I can get my own, don’t worry about it.”

“Please, let me,” Namjoon argues. “A ‘welcome to the team’ drink.”

“Fine. A lemon drop, please.” He orders his drink and tries not to look over at Namjoon for his reaction. People (Yoongi is people) always tease him for his drink choices. He doesn’t give Namjoon the chance, though, asking, “Which team?”

Namjoon looks confused, cocks his head like he wants Seokjin to repeat himself. “Which team?” Seokjin asks again, a little louder. “Kiwoom, or you know,” he gestures around the club, “this team?”

Namjoon laughs loudly at the joke, his smile wide with all his teeth showing. Seokjin has the fleeting thought that he’s pretty like that, happy and genuine. “Well, if you’re new to this team, congratulations, I guess. It’s never too late to figure yourself out. But I meant Kiwoom.”

The bartender slides their drinks over, and Namjoon pulls his attention from Seokjin to pull out cash.

When he gets his change, he turns back to Seokjin and smiles. “So, do you dance?”

“No.” Seokjin shakes his head. “I’m really just here for my friend.” He hooks a thumb over in the direction of Hoseok, who is back to dancing, this time with Jimin.

Namjoon gives him a curious look. “Really?”

“I mean, I’m gay, too. But I wouldn’t be out clubbing at one in the morning if it weren’t for Hobi.”

“Oh, me too,” Namjoon agrees, with a look passing over his face that could be relief, Seokjin isn’t sure. “I never know what to do with myself at places like this. Mostly, I just make sure Jimin gets home safely, but I’m not much of a dancer.”

Because it’s often that Seokjin’s mouth is disconnected from his brain, especially when he’s already had a few drinks, he says, “Too bad. You’ve got the body for it.”

It’s dark in the club, but there’s no mistaking Namjoon’s reaction. His eyes go wide and he ducks his head sheepishly, both dimples showing before he busies his mouth with taking a drink of his beer. “Thanks,” he says softly after he swallows, barely audible above all the noise. “I think.”

Seokjin’s mortified that he said it out loud, not quite an intrusive thought, but close enough he should have kept it to himself. He doesn’t even know what it means. Anyone has the body for dancing if they can keep a rhythm, just because Namjoon is tall and broad and—It’s just that he’s in a gay bar, and all he’s used to doing in gay bars is flirting with other gay men, and there’s a painfully attractive one right in front of him, buying him a drink—It’s just muscle memory. That’s all. And now he can’t exactly walk it back. He should keep his mouth shut, bob his head along with the music, let the awkward silence that’s settling in linger a little longer. But Namjoon has other ideas.

“You do, too,” he admits, and when Seokjin looks up, Namjoon’s no longer bashfully looking into his drink, but looking right at him, cheeks a little rosy, eyes a little glassy from the alcohol. He’s so nice to look at. And he’s being kind and complimentary, making it so very hard for Seokjin to stay annoyed or to think he’s an asshole. Everyone has their moments, anyway.

He can feel himself getting a little woozy, and he doesn’t know if it’s the booze, the stale air, or the way Namjoon is looking at him that he’s definitely trying not to take as interest. How could it be, when Namjoon is clearly here with Jimin, hanging around in a dance club he doesn’t want to be in just to make Jimin happy? But in an effort to remove at least one of the possibilities, he finally breaks eye contact with Namjoon and looks out across the dance floor.

Hoseok is lost in the music, dancing with Jimin and a couple other men that they’d been talking to earlier at the bar. His friend looks happy, and more importantly looks like he’s not necessarily planning on leaving anytime soon.

“Looks like it’s going to be a long night,” he remarks, tilting his drink towards Jimin and Hoseok.

Namjoon laughs again, agreeing. “It’s always like this. I have to drag him home at four and he’s still begging to be out dancing somewhere until he falls asleep on my shoulder in the taxi.”

“Cute,” Seokjin concedes, because it is, and because he’s glad someone can relate to what his nights out with Hoseok are like. “Hobi’s the same. Doesn’t drink much, but dances until he can barely stand up. I practically have to carry him home sometimes.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Namjoon says.

“It goes both ways.”

Namjoon nods and stays quiet for a moment, finishing his drink. When he sets his glass down, he says abruptly, “They look fine and I’m hungry. Want to get out of here?”

It’s hard to hide his surprise—he and Namjoon aren’t exactly friends, and Namjoon’s maybe boyfriend is out there, maybe drunk, dancing with Seokjin’s roommate who he just met less than an hour prior, but Namjoon seems sure. He’s punching out a message to Jimin on his phone, explaining to Seokjin that they have a system for nights like this, nights where Namjoon can’t find a way to keep himself sober enough and awake enough to almost see the sunrise. He explains that Jimin is fine, and if Hoseok is fine, too, Namjoon would really like to get some hotteok.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s sober, and he’ll call me if he needs anything,” Seokjin concedes in a sort of haze. He’s not sure he should be leaving the bar with Namjoon, but again, muscle memory. A cute guy is asking him to go eat, and Seokjin basically never isn’t hungry, so there’s not much reason to say no. In order to maintain some semblance of sanity, he tunes into the part of his brain that’s reminding him that Namjoon is a co-worker, that they maybe don’t get along, that he’s probably not single and this is just a friendly thing to do.

While Namjoon types, Seokjin makes up his mind. It’s just street food. He sends a message to Hoseok and lets himself be escorted out of the club by Kim Namjoon. Life is so surreal sometimes, he thinks. Even a few days prior, he wouldn’t have had this on his list of things that were likely to happen.

It’s still chilly for May, and a burst of cool air hits Seokjin’s face when they walk outside. The air is a little humid, and there was a lot of dust earlier, so Seokjin puts a mask on even though he wants to just suck in deep breaths of the night breeze. Even then, it’s definitely less stuffy than the basement club, though, and he feels some of the dizziness he was feeling inside escape him as he makes his way up the stairs to the street, Namjoon close behind. Namjoon, for his part, pulls up a tired-looking green scarf around his neck and then smiles when he notices Seokjin looking. “My sister made it. It’s falling apart, but I like the color.”

They walk quietly, but fortunately it’s not too uncomfortable between them anymore. It’s interesting, Seokjin thinks, that Namjoon is in some ways very much the same both inside and outside of work, and in some ways so different. For starters, he dresses the same: casually, but everything’s clearly expensive, like he never got out of some vaguely trendy streetwear phase in college and now he has the money to pull it off. Tonight, he’s wearing gray joggers and brown boots, with an oversized graphic shirt underneath a denim jacket. He’s got a beanie pulled low over his hair now that they’re outside, even though it’s only a little cold. He looks comfortable. It’s sort of cute. He’s also quiet here like he is at work, but observing. It’s one of the things Seokjin knew about him before they worked together, just from being at the same events and in the same peripheral circles for a couple of years. Namjoon is always watching, looks like he’s making mental notes of everything happening around him. It’s probably one of the things that makes him a good manager. And he is good, even though the Heroes’ win record wouldn’t attest to that at the moment.

But, on the other hand, he’s more relaxed than at work. Smiles more freely, his shoulders aren’t as stiff. Maybe it’s the beer, maybe it’s that it’s approaching some ungodly hour of the morning, who knows.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks Seokjin, making it clear that he’s still observing, even now.

“Ah…” He feels caught out, feels heat rise up his neck a bit. “If I’m being honest?”

Namjoon nods. “Please.”

“Just that you’re different here than at work. But also the same.”

“You think I’m a dick here, too?” Seokjin looks up expecting to see him irritated, but he’s smirking, instead, waiting for Seokjin to be in on the joke he’s making about himself.

“I don’t think you’re a dick.”

“Really?”

“Well…” Seokjin purses his lips. “Maybe a little.”

It’s nice, the way they both laugh at that. Then Namjoon stops walking, rubbing the back of his neck and looking like he’s deep in thought. “About that,” he starts.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin interrupts.

“No. It’s not. I owe you a proper apology. I’m sorry about what I said about your dad, sorry I didn’t give you a chance. I’m not used to…”

“People disagreeing with you?”

Namjoon cringes. “Something like that, yeah.”

“It’s alright,” Seokjin says. “Really. I think in the end, we both want the same result, but we’re not always going to agree on how to get there. That’s life. I’d like to just start over with you, if that’s okay?”

“I’d like that, too,” Namjoon agrees, giving what Seokjin is starting to recognize as a habitual head-bowed smile when he’s a little nervous. “Thank you.”

As they walk, air a little less confining around them after Namjoon’s apology, the conversation comes smoothly between them. Apparently, Namjoon’s known Jimin for a long time—they came as a package deal out of the baseball program at the university they’d both attended. He speaks fondly of the trainer, and it’s sweet. Seokjin hasn’t had the chance to hear Namjoon talk about anything personal, so it’s a nice change of pace. He mentions Taehyung, how they all have been friends for years, working with each other off and on, and maintaining a relationship outside of work, too.

“Is it hard being their boss?” Seokjin asks as they walk.

“Hmm… No, not really. Tae’s always been easy to lead, and I played on a team with him for a while, too, so he knows me. Jimin reports to Yoongi, so we don’t have an issue there, and of course, we try to keep things professional when we’re at work. What about you, though? Is it weird to work for Yoongi? You’ve been friends forever, it seems like. He’s been talking about you since I’ve known him.”

“I thought it would be harder, honestly,” Seokjin says. “But Yoongi is… Well, he’s great, you know? He’s always trusted me more than I think I deserve.”

“He speaks highly of you,” Namjoon agrees.

“And you, too.” The compliment makes Namjoon smile prettily, the corners of his eyes crinkling beneath his beanie. It’s cute. It’s nice to see him, so far usually a little stoic, loose and happy like this.

They make it to the night market, and it’s a mass of people—busy and loud, and Seokjin loves it. He makes Namjoon stop at all the fishmongers and learns that Namjoon does not eat seafood, and thinks fish should be his friends instead. Seokjin makes voices for all the squid and mackerel on ice, taunting Namjoon. “Namjooooon, you should have saved us,” he squeaks in a high-pitched voice, waving a lobster in front of his friend.

“God, you’re annoying,” Namjoon shouts, but he’s laughing along, doubled over every time Seokjin makes up a new accent for a new sea creature.

They finally find fried food—Seokjin orders cheese hotteok and Namjoon gets honey—and they walk through the market to the other side, emerging on a different street than they started from, snacks almost cool enough to eat as they turn back towards Seokjin’s neighborhood.

He tears into his pancake, letting the cheese stretch long before it snaps and he pops a bite into his mouth. Around the food in his mouth, manners forgotten with the alcohol and the hour, he asks, “So, who knows?”

Namjoon pauses mid-bite, eyes wide, and doesn’t say anything for a moment. He regards Seokjin carefully, then starts walking as he chews. “About me being gay, you mean?”

“Yeah. It’s hard in our line of work,” he says.

“It’s hard everywhere,” Namjoon counters, some of the harshness Seokjin’s seen at work creeping back into his voice. “Sorry. You’re right. People aren’t very accepting. I try to keep it to myself, mostly.”

“Me too,” Seokjin agrees.

“Um… Well, Jimin of course. Taehyung knows, too. And Yoongi. And your dad, who was surprisingly okay about it?”

Seokjin tries not to sound bitter. “Probably more okay when you’re not his son.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t know what to say.” Namjoon speaks tentatively, like Seokjin wasn’t successful in masking his annoyance.

“Not your fault,” Seokjin shrugs. “It’s fine now, but it was harder when he first found out.”

“How old were you?”

“Nineteen. Brought a ‘friend’ home from university for break. Got caught being too friendly one night.”

Namjoon groans. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was less than ideal,” Seokjin agrees. “But it’s mostly fine now. He knows I won’t change, so even if he doesn’t like it, my dad’s never had time to fight fights he knows he can’t win. It’s bad business.”

He doesn’t really blame Namjoon for having nothing to say to that. He wouldn’t either if it weren’t his story—sometimes he still doesn’t.

“But yeah… In my personal life, everyone knows. My dad, Yoongi, Hoseok… At work, it’s now you and Jimin, I guess. My ex.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow lifts at that. “Your ex is in sports, too?”

“Sure is. He plays in Busan.” Seokjin should feel bad for where this is going, maybe. Seungwook probably wouldn’t want to have their relationship discussed, but his sexuality is an open secret, he’s been photographed with men before, but he’s been good enough at the sport that everyone just buries it, pretends it doesn’t happen.

“Seungwook,” Namjoon says softly. “That makes sense, I guess. That’s how you know him?”

Seokjin nods. “We met in college, before I started working for Doosan. Tried to make it work even with the distance once he went to Busan, or I did, anyway. We dated for a couple of years. I thought it was serious. He thought it was serious when we were in the same city and casual when we weren’t. Irreconcilable differences, as they say.”

“That’s awful,” Namjoon replies, and when Seokjin looks over, it seems like he really means it. His brow is furrowed and his lips are pulled to one side in what’s maybe annoyance or disappointment.

“It happens. The worst part is that he never really tried to hide it, you know? I just thought… I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe he would change.”

“They don’t change.”

“Sounds like you’ve had experience.”

Namjoon shrugs, non-committal. “I bet we all have.” They keep quiet after that, finishing their snack and walking toward Seokjin’s building. They’ve made it past the organized chaos of the campus nearby, and they’re about to pass the park where all the ajummas walk fast laps in their tracksuits at night when the air is cooler and the dust settles a bit. He can see the top floors of his building behind another, towering above eyeglass shops and restaurants and convenience stores. The complex is large, seven or eight towers, and nothing like the luxury ones of Hannam-dong or Gangnam, but it’s nice enough and he’s able to save a lot of money and help out Hoseok, so he’s happy there. It’s also a good location, right between two metro lines, so he can get almost anywhere in the city relatively quickly.

As they pass the park, bowing shallowly to the women who ignore them as they walk by, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Namjoon’s must, too, because they’re both pulling their phones out at the same time.

“Jimin,” Namjoon says, holding his up.

“Hoseok. Did yours make it home alright?”

Shaking his head, Namjoon sighs. “I think he’s going to be out for a while.”

“Ah, Hoseok, too. Says not to wait up.”

Namjoon pockets his phone again after typing out a brief message. “I’m glad we did this,” he admits, not quite looking over at Seokjin.

“Me too.” Seokjin pauses to yawn, sleep finally hitting him after walking for a couple of hours as he approaches the entranceway to his building. “It was nice to get to know you a little bit,” he offers.

Namjoon is standing against the corner street sign, hands shoved in his pockets as he watches the ground intently. It seems like he wants to say something, jaw clicking as he works it in slow circles. Finally, just when Seokjin is about to pull the, “well, this is me,” card, Namjoon speaks. “Sangwon,” he says, still staring at the ground.

“Ah… don’t worry about that, Namjoon-ssi. It’s late. We can talk about work next week.”

He looks up and shakes his head. “No. Sangwon. He knows, too. And he’s not…” Namjoon blows out a long breath. “He shouldn’t know, but he does. I was stupid, made a mistake, he saw it, and he’s never really let me forget it.”

And with that admission, things click into place for Seokjin. Why Namjoon is protective of Sangwon, why he won’t entertain talk of trading him, why he got so defensive about it, why he wouldn’t even listen to Yoongi about the pitcher’s decline. Seokjin has no idea what Sangwon saw, but he understands Namjoon’s desire to keep it private, and understands why it’s not something he talks about. But it’s fucked up, too, that someone could be basically blackmailing him apparently.

“He doesn’t want to be traded, am I right?”

Namjoon hums in agreement. “He knows he’s slipping. Knows he’ll never get as good of a deal as he has with Kiwoom right now. Told me if I stopped any trade, he’d keep my secret.” He still can’t seem to make eye contact—and he shouldn’t be the one who’s embarrassed, but Seokjin thinks he gets that, too. He’s about to say as much, but Namjoon keeps talking. “I feel terrible about it, you know? I know it’s wrong—for the team. I know I’m a coward.”

“You’re not,” Seokjin says firmly, waiting until Namjoon finally lifts his eyes from the sidewalk. “It’s a shitty position to be in, and you’re doing what you think is best to protect yourself. No one would fault you for that.”

“I shouldn’t be in this position to begin with,” Namjoon argues.

“No, you shouldn’t. But not because of anything you did or didn’t do, but because only an asshole would use it against you.”

“Maybe you’re right… I don’t know anymore.”

“Of course I’m right, I’m your hyung. I’m always right.”

Finally, Namjoon smiles again. “Thank you,” he says.

“I had fun with you tonight,” Seokjin replies. “This is my building though. Are you close? I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask.”

“I am. Just a couple streets over. Less than 10 minutes.” He pulls himself upright from where he’d been leaning against the sign post. “I had fun, too. Goodnight, hyung.”

When he turns to walk away with a wave, Seokjin realizes he hates that he likes the way Namjoon addresses him with familiarity for the first time, hates that he had fun in a way that felt a little like a date… Namjoon’s probably headed back to Jimin, and it’s not right to be wondering if Namjoon’s dimples and the faint flush he’s been sporting have anything to do with the way his hand brushed against Seokjin’s as they walked or the honesty they shared—more than coworkers, now. Maybe friends.

“We’ll figure out what to do about Sangwon, Namjoonah,” he calls after Namjoon’s retreating figure. “I promise.”

It’s one he doesn’t know if he can keep, but something about Namjoon makes him want to try, when the other man turns around with a wide but tired smile. “Thank you. For listening, and for all of this,” Namjoon says, walking backwards a little clumsily.

When he stumbles over a crack in the sidewalk and into the side of a tree, laughing at himself before turning around again, Seokjin realizes two things.

He is hopelessly endeared, and utterly fucked.

#seokjin fic #namjoon fics #bts fic #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin imagines #namjoon imagine #namjin fic #kvanity #bts imagines

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theharrowing · 1 year

Note

Headcannon idea: porn preferences? 🤔🤔🤔

Only if you feel so inclined!💛💛

greetings, anon! 💛

i certainly do feel so inclined. let's dive in!

putting this one under a cut because it is nsfw. descriptions are not too explicit, but there is mention of jerking off.

what type of porn do the members watch?

Namjoon: our leader loves an armature video shot in high enough quality that it seems like they definitely spent a little money on nice gear, but not so high of quality that it appears studio produced and scripted. he loves watching overstimulation, and when the participants use toys, he takes notes, making sure he can look them up later, to add to his stash, especially if it is something that can pleasure himself and someone else at the same time.

Seokjin: our Seokjin likes the hardest, dirtiest, most degrading shit, but he does not watch it to get off...he just likes to stare at it in wonderment, taking in the scene, observing the various mechanisms, toys, and gadgets. and then he turns it off to jerk off in silence. or he watches hentai.

Yoongi: our Yoongi enjoys a little of everything, but nothing too wild. not that he isn't into the fetish stuff, but he is more into watching everyone enjoy themselves, sometimes preferring the slower-paced, vanilla videos that capture every tremble and faint movement the person(s) makes. he also has all his favorite actors' names memorized, and supports them on their various platforms when possible, rather than seeking out videos on free sites.

Hoseok: porn is often too embarrassing for Hoseok to watch; even when there is no possible chance for someone to be in ear shot, he only watches with the volume off or with earbuds on, or he scrolls through photo galleries, instead. when he does indulge, he likes something with a nice, believable storyline, or with an interview before or after so that he can see different sides of the person(s) performing in the video.

Jimin: rather than seek out porn, Jimin likes to jerk off to the photos and videos that his partner(s) send, or he watches their homemade videos. nothing gets him off faster than someone he is into. when he does watch someone else's videos, though, he loves armature pov porn, especially when it takes place somewhere public or semi-public.

Taehyung: who needs porn when Taehyung has a stack of vintage magazines? sure, he could get anything he wants in video form, but there is something so enticing about the set design, costumes, and lighting that comes with magazines. the freeze-frame of someone in absolute bliss is unmatched -- even if it is staged for the shot.

Jungkook: our Jungkook is absolutely fascinated by "real hentai" videos, and loves to reenact them, buying only the best tentacle-shaped toys. he also loves the high production studio shit that is well lit and shot in nice mansions. bonus points if the sexy clothing the actors wear stays on.

find more headcanons in my master list!

#bts headcanons #bts imagines #seokjin imagines #namjoon imagines #yoongi imagines #hoseok imagines #jimin imagines #taehyung imagines #jungkook imagines

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delugguk · 2 years

Note

86 “see what happens if you rub your ass on me like that again.” & 83 “pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic” with Jin 🫠

• pair: seokjin x reader

• what happens here?: smut.

• word count: 653

from this promt list, send a member x your number!

seating on your boyfriend's lap, you were speaking very enthusiastically with your friends. I said very, because you did not seemed to notice the way you kept swaying your hips from left to right everytime you got excited with anything. - giving your beloved boyfriend a hard time in between forced smiles and comments, in order to keep calm.

but it justㅡit wasn't working.

"babe, stop moving-" he whispers to your ear as you tilt your head to the side. "you're kinda, uh," he pauses as he looks down his crotch an you totally get it.

but..

too bad for him, you feel playful today.

"oh, I'm sorry babe." you cutely say while holding his face, leaving a kiss on his cheek.

little did he know that was the beginning of your game.

the moment he told you, you immediately shifted your position to get more comfortable between his thighs but it was more.. to feel at what state his bulge could actually be. - smirking at yourself, you pretended that everything went back to normal, so you lean back to your friends table while perking up your ass. meaning, that you'll push yourself harder down his crotch and that clearly makes something to seokjin.

there was a clear intention to it but still, you wanted to be discreet. you just liked to tease him, that's all.

..but the moment you suddenly start to feel a big warm palm wrapping up agaisnt your thigh, it is enough to know you're over.

..and you're wearing a skirt.

shit.

you were definitely not going to survive.

"what did I tell you?" he mutters on your ear. hands slowly taking up the hem of your skirt.

you say nothing. staying still.

seokjin gently opens your legs as your friends can't see, "keep talking with your friends."

but the moment his fingers touches your embarrassingly wet panties fabric, he manages to go up, changing plans to excuse the both of you to go outside to 'take pics along the sea'.

what a bullshit that was because nowㅡhere you are, in a huge fancy bathroom getting fucked by your boyfriend's fingers and all because of your stupid teasing. but hey, you weren't mad about it.

"damn, look at you.." he takes his time to admire the mess you were doing for him. "pushing back against my fingers already? how pathetic." he says and gives a tiny slap to your pussy which makes you jump.

"agh, babe-" you moan to his ear and you can't stop it now that you both started. you need him bad and you need him now.

your hips rapidly moved against his fingers, trying to match him.

"tell me your wish, baby." he says between a messy kiss.

"f-fuck me. I need it, p-please"

"shit, keep it low baby, unless you want them to hear."

"I don't care! just fuck me-"

and with nothing more to say, he fucks you against the sink, turns your back away and fucks you hard. It's crazy how wet you were that he didn't even had to keep teasing you. you were already a mess for him and he loved that so much. It turned him on so much.

so he keeps fucking you until you're both satisfied. panting agaisnt each others lips with both coloured cheeks.

he starts to speak, "see what happens if you rub your ass on me like that again?"

and you can't help but giggle. "If I know you'll always do this.." you pause, jumping down the sink to fix your clothes and hair as he does the same. "I might consider doing it all over again." giving him a mischievous look.

"you're insane.."

"yeap, but you are more!" you laugh. "literally dragged me here to fuck."

"you give me no choice." he quickly gives up.

and you roll your eyes as you both laugh at this. you surely were a different type of couple..

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chemicalpink · 2 years

Text

Delightful Affair | KSJ

➵ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader, with a side of Kim Taehyung x reader

➵ Genre, AU: Pride and Prejudice AU, s2l, smut, angst, fluff

➵ Rating: 18+

➵ Word Count: 7k

➵ Summary: You had never thought you would find solace in Kim Taehyung after the midsummer nights you had spent with Kim Seokjin, his long-lost brother.

➵ Warnings, tags: cre*mpie, mentions of de*th, historically accurate mis*gyny, che*ting, pregnancy, family drama, longing, Seokjin forever advocating for the early femin*st movement, probably inaccurate historical timeline (I tried my best but I gave up somewhere)

➵ A/N: This work has been in my docs forever, and it kept getting longer every time I tried to finish it (it’s a Seokjin’s fic type of thing ig) I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! This is a repost because the other one wasn't working on the tags.

The day is grim like no other Seokjin has ever been a witness to in his whole twenty five years of age, his hands are both contrastingly sweaty, the garments his mother has made him wear for the evening don’t seem to stop constricting his throat in the worst way possible, he thinks– perhaps is he were a daughter instead of a son, the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind, watching his soon to be wife down the altar, flowers all but decorating the path that is supposed to mean their ever after happy ending.

She’s a pretty woman, he has to admit as much, red hair that goes down her spine– a foreigner– his father had mentioned, a daughter of some important overseas merchant that might be key to the prosperous future of the rather small town they live in, he can’t help but wonder if his own future may look as boisterous as his parents suggest this marriage will serve as for them all.

Can’t help but wonder, if this would be the one time in his lifetime where he would very much rather choose himself over his parents. You see, Kim Seokjin is a simple man, a madman some would call him as times go by and the shadow of running away from his own wedding as a cowardly excuse of a man, looms over him. Born from a well-off family, educated with the very best their country could offer, raised to take over his father’s ever growing land– yet it didn’t take as much time or effort for his mother to mark him off as a lost cause, helping in the kitchens at fifteen, writing a rebellious downfall of the system–as his father had titled his studies– at the ripe age of eighteen, passing days under the summer sun reading sonnets ‘By a Lady’ at twenty, and now– selfishly running away from what could have been the marriage of the century, in the name of love at twenty five.

Kim Seokjin is a simple, yet no ordinary man, contrary to his younger brother, Kim Taehyung, always excelling in what Seokjin has seemed to lack, even while being three years younger than him, Kim Taehyung is a rather stoic man, playing by the rules only, perfectly cut for the place Seokjin was supposed to play, the Duke of York and Albany, the pride and joy of the Kim family.

Kim Taehyung is everything Kim Seokjin is not, no rebellious downfalls, or poetry, and most definitely not love.

It comes to no one’s surprise when the Duke, Seokjin and Taehyung’s father, brings home the news of Seokjin leaving for the colonies as a private political advisor of King George III. There are no shedded tears from his mother, who bless her heart has had to endure being the talk of the town after her handsome son had been accused falsely of adultery, leaving the poor red headed foreign girl by herself on her wedding day. His younger brother doesn’t even show up as he is set to sail, tight fists around a couple of packed bags that contain his best garments along with a few books he is sure his father would disapprove of. The latter curtly waved his first born farewell after advising him against messing up such an amazing opportunity.

Kim Seokjin is a simple, yet no ordinary man, which is why it comes as no surprise when he is thrown away from King George III’s inner circle and sent back home on a rather humble boat where he is set on working the kitchens after suggesting the setting of judicial powers in the colonies. It comes as no surprise to his mother, who limits herself to watch her eldest son with teary eyes, something akin to pity on her gaze. It comes as no surprise to his brother, who scoffs and rolls his eyes as he smirks at him in disgust from the place is perched near the door. And it most certainly doesn’t come as a surprise to his father– at least he doesn’t think so, if the way he pinches his nose and strips Seokjin of his noble title right away is any indicator of said fact.

Kim Seokjin, Viscount of Hereford. A small patch of land that has been part of the Kim family for years on end, a rather lonely, unproductive and overlooked piece of land that tends to flood and get buried in snow during winter. Seokjin loves the dichotomy between his new title and the place he occupies in the Kim family. Disposable. Set aside for the best interest of his family. Forgotten. A small unfortunate spec of dirt in an otherwise rich, fertile land that carries the future of the country within themselves. He thinks his father’s love is shown in the way he is being merciful enough to let Seokjin keep some sort of title– a mirage of the life he was always taught to live.

“I do not believe there is a way for you to ruin your life this way, Seokjin” his father’s voice is carried by the noises outside his study, the man placing a portfolio full of gold in front of his son, he believes his father is even throwing in a few of his own earnings along with the Viscount ones.

Seokjin isn’t even sure if he can address his own father the way he used to do before– he knows if it were any other man with his title, he wouldn’t. “Live well, and I’ll do so too, your grace”

Kim Seokjin is a simple man, but by no means ordinary. As the rumours died down, mostly forgotten by whatever other pressing matters occupied the habitant’s minds, he prefers to keep to himself inside his manor, a humble yet decent place that still gets covered in snow during the harsh winters, an ever running fireplace and the constant smell of freshly baked bread as he watches the days go by much like he did before, his relation to the Kim family long faded as his father passes and Taehyung occupies the title, the tiniest pang of jealousy inside his chest– or perhaps longing– as he watches the younger bestride by his property on summer days, face set stoic as ever, without so much as a disgruntled look his way, in times when Seokjin isn’t required by the royal court for his self made diplomatic career– he sometimes wonders if he could have proved his father wrong as he made a name for himself, or perhaps the old man wasn’t as disappointed in him as he said he was, letting a letter of recommendation for his eldest son slip to the King’s court as a way for Seokjin to make a better living for himself. The truth is, he might have to live without it.

“Will you ever listen to mother when she is to call you for dinner?” your sister berates you as she rounds the corner to the place where you hide away near the infamous Kim manor. You can’t be exactly proud as to the way it has become a routine of sorts to stray from your own home to pass the summer days hidden away some place near Kim Taehyung and his daily activities.

You don’t even turn to look at her, intently watching the way the Duke keeps on being seated along the flowery patch, beige attire, jewellry adorning his hands as he has a book perched in between his fingers–poetry, most likely “He is such a boring man, is he not?”

“Y/N…”

“Come on, just look at him! What are such pompously rich people even set to do!” To any bystander– or any family member, for that matter, your daily activities were surely set to be product of an untended for crush on a wealthy man of town, you have no real energy within yourself to set the ideas straight, simply amused by such a way of living some people get to have while the rest of them– like your father, are set to work until they drop if they must upkeep their living arrangements, sustaining his daughters for the lack of a male in the bloodline “I bet he gets to have dinner in his chambers”

Your sister sighs loudly and finally follows your gaze “Kim Taehyung, Duke of York and Albany? What could be so interesting about the man to have you out here for days on end?”

“There isn’t anything interesting about the man- which was exactly my first point!”

“He does seem rather- apathetic” she giggles and you can’t help yourself but follow her lead– not without one last look towards the man. Kim Taehyung does truly look a lot of things, apathetic being just one of them.

“Children! What are you doing so far off? Come come, your father has brought news from the city!”

“This is such great tidings! I will finally live to marry one of my daughters off to a wealthy family!” Your mother declares as she clasps a hand over her heart, ever the theatrical self she has posed herself to be within the family.

You can’t help but frown as the information sinks into your brain “Is it not worth of any attention to be given my own feelings, mother?”

“Oh Y/N dearest, but your marriage to Duke Kim Taehyung has been on the talks since you were an infant, it had just been a matter of time”

Your father turns to you as your mother busies herself the way that she tends to do when excited, “Y/N daughter of mine, the Kim family will be able to give you all the things that you deserve in this lifetime”

“I have everything I could wish for right here, father, is it not enough to want to marry for love?”

“I’m sure with enough time, Duke Kim would be able to-”

“Oh don’t be a silly girl, Y/N, no great marriage is ever to happen from love, if only it is ever a bonus of such a great arrangement as this one”

“Mother I-”

“I will not hear a word of it, oh goodness dear, we must travel to the city to get some new garments, fix your hair, find yourself a tutor and-”

“Viscount Kim will be in charge of the last bit”

Your mother scoffs, smile pulling the sides of her mouth “A viscount, you surely do not expect such a low ranked gentleman to prepare our daughter for a Duke”

“Do not be afeard woman, this man was raised to take on his father’s Dukedom once upon a time”

As it comes down to it, Viscount Kim was set to arrive as a guest to your parents’ summer home a little over a month after your father had granted you the news. Something along the lines of travelling all the way from a foreign land as he dismissed his job as a diplomat in favour of tending to your educational needs for the duration of the season. Your father was set on the man making the proper and poised woman a Duke would undoubtedly marry, while your mother fussed over the littlest things in order to take care of her property for Viscount Kim’s arrival.

Soon enough the small manor was filled to the brim with life, a set of personnel to take over the house’s duties along with freshly imported fabrics that decorated the place near the lake– a set of land that made it all the easier to watch the Kim manor from the gardens.

“I am awfully sorry for the small place we were able to provide for you on such short notice, my Lord. The house is fully equipped with people to tend to your needs” your mother’s voice travels all the way to the back lounge, enough to have you scurrying down the hall to peak at the man– incredibly handsome and tall, plump lips that seem to be perpetually stuck into the smallest of smiles, glass skin, raven hair that travelled to the base of his neck, meeting the awfully expensive-looking shirt he sported.

“It is of no trouble, do not be concerned, my lady, this is all the more I could have hoped for, as you would understand, I am rather used to taking care of my own needs as I travel so much for work, it simply seems impossible to keep trusty people around” his voice is smooth, the way he stands tall and poised reminds you awfully to the way Duke Kim Taehyung carries himself– if only Viscount Kim seems a lot more relaxed. You make your presence known into the room, making sure to bow as instructed by your mother, receiving a bow from both in return.

“Ah, this is my daughter, Y/N” your mother presents you, along with a smile on her face “She is to be taken care of from you, I beg of you to set this child on the right track”

“I assure you, my lady, it will be be no trouble at all” you can’t help but get lost in Viscount Kim’s posture, soft murmurs and pouty pillowy lips that enunciate every word at an excellent pace as he seems to leave his soul bare with every word he says, tall, strong and very much evidently a handsome man that leaves you expectant for the upcoming days under his instructions.

As Seokjin makes a home out of the small cabin he was presented with, you can’t help but be amazed at how different his routine seems from Kim Taehyung’s, opting to switch out your routine in favour of entertainment in between lessons as the latter keeps himself busy roaming his manor’s gardens while the former opts to wake upon the rising of the sun and get to chores around the house all the while– quite the sight to be seen from a man, especially one of Seokjin’s calibre. The man is nothing quite ever seen before around the land as he dutifully reads the paper over coffee– all done by himself, heading over to get himself ready after having breakfast and fetch you for lessons, which once over, settle him down with some light letter writing– you can only guess due to his working duties as a government official. All taken into account there is no denying that Kim Seokjin has no flaw on his perfectly carved self, if only it wasn’t for his title.

“Proper ladies are to entertain with songs over tea, Y/N” his voice is soft, you can’t even tell if he’s scolding you for plainly taking the seat right across from him as soon as you finished tilting the teapot to pour him a cup of his own “At least that’s what my brother expects”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, suddenly feeling equal parts curious and embarrassed at having Duke Kim’s brother right in front of you, although it has yet to make any sense in the way that Seokjin surely seems to be older, yet not in line for his father’s Dukedom has you rising questions as your eyes open resembling platters “B-brother?”

The man simply nods his head ceremoniously, pushing the cup against his lips before taking a sip, curiosity getting the best out of you this one time “My father did not mention what happened between you”

“Love happened” Things are quiet after that, it is quite evident he does not wish for it to be talked about any further and you don’t want your curiosity to bring any embarrassment to any of you both at such an early stage of your preparation– even if it has been a few weeks now. Which gratefully, you didn’t even have to as he goes on with his story “People can be quite unforgiving of feelings and strong opinions, Y/N. And while I do not deem any of them atrocious as people as my father do, it is in your best interest to mould yourself to their ways of life, or else you end up like me for believing myself worthy of true love”

You can’t quite push the matter aside, as the image of his saddened smile keeps you awake in the evenings, the absolute pure way he had talked about such matters, being the first man you had ever known of being able to talk so freely about his feelings, believing in them so strongly he had traded his very own most prized possession– his title– for it.

Seokjin sits himself under the shade of the biggest tree around the small manor, small book in hand– looking rather beaten up with the passing of time at the way that its yellow-coloured pages hang to each other as the man’s soft voice recites practised words that seem to have never left his mind for some time, verses on the scenery, the love for life, the gratefulness of the kingdom, the passing of seasons and the beauty of women all seem to somehow pull you in as never before, the way that it seems like he could have the answers to the world if he could, entrusting his every syllable as you sit on the blanket across from him, the sun hitting your face as a smile draws upon you, unhelpfully rejoicing in the dull imagery of the words being his own, whispered to you in lovely rhymes, rather than out of some sort of compromise.

“I brought something with me this time” Seokjin had travelled to the city for a few days, deeming you responsible enough to go on with your studies on your own after some more weeks and extensive curriculum being almost over with as you now carry yourself with much more poise and delight. He had noted his absence as ‘taking care of private matters’ yet he had extended his intentions in one particular evening as he let you know he was visiting a friend, no name included, merely something about being asked to look over some literary work. He extends his hand for you to take the book he presents himself with, a new looking, covered in golden pieces one. “It’s an original piece, I believe you will surely enjoy reading, quite a commotion this one has caused”

You look at the cover, the name simply engraved out as ‘a Lady’ has you gasping while turning to look up at Seokjin in surprise. Whatever commotion it had caused had always been a matter to your liking– as Seokjin came to know. The books always kept far away from the small town you resided in, under the pretence of not messing with ladies’ heads. You can’t help but leap towards the Viscount, embracing him out of thankfulness as you hold the book closer to your chest, the widest smile he has ever seen on your face.

Seokjin’s voice had always been alluring in all ways possible, from the soft tone to the perfectly enunciating of his syllables, the way his eyes resembled every feeling the author had so gracefully placed in between sonnets, “…whatever must I do to keep on living this way, each summer as it came, to feel your love within me, and why shall I ever pray for you to refuse under the guise of being my muse…”

His words get carried by the wind, you swear the investment on some of the portrait painters that sometimes make it to the side of town would be completely worth the pieces of gold if their were to immortalise Kim Seokjin like that, sitting across the gardens, back against a tree as words leave his mouth, sun kissed skin glowing under the light–he was surely a sight to behold in a way that keeps on leaving your mind wandering places you don’t quite want it to, if Seokjin had once lost all he had in the name of love, would he be opposed to his brother’s plan and do it all again? Were he the man that had sworn on his life pledge to his very own bizarre priorities, would he turn a blind eye to whatever everyone else had to say and be yours instead?

“Y/N were you even listening to the piece? This is a must have repertoire on-” Seokjin’s eyes are as wide as platters the moment your lips crash into his, soon enveloped in the heat from the sun and Seokjin embracing your body as if afraid to let go, his hands are soft and cautious, merely holding your weight as your lips pour every once of love into each other, he can’t help but let a smile draw on his face as you separate from each other a second before diving back in “I am just getting myself in so much more trouble”

Kim Taehyung hadn’t even been meaning to eavesdrop– as hard as it was from the giggles coming from the other side of the Kim manor’s gardens, used to hearing them from a completely different direction as you played with your sisters. Certainly he hadn’t quite estimated how baffled he would be at the image right in front of him, a man he had grown up to look up to, even as he was casted away from the place– no one had ever questions Seokjin’s manners and gifts as a fully trained elite in town. And the woman he was meant to be marrying over the summer. It had almost seemed like out of one of his elder brother’s novels their father always berated him for reading, a ladies’ story, read in the dim light of a candle after hours. The happiness evident in your faces as both of you played around the garden, chasing one after the other, only for you to come crashing against Seokjin’s chest, lungs heaving as the man is sent to land on his back with your whole body on his, lips fairly pressing into each other as he turns to have his leave for the day.

Seokjin can’t help the smile that draws on his face as he packs up his things, looking one more time at the garden behind the manor, part of it longing for the days he had shared with his younger brother under the sun, the rest of it filled with your laughter as you both had done just about the same, the cold air is letting up as summer draws closer. He hears the familiar voice before he is even able to see him.

“You’re back” Taehyung’s voice had always had an uninteresting baritone tone to it even as a child, cold and alienated even if deep down Seokjin knew it wasn’t quite like it.

Seokjin had to try and race down his guilty heart at having his brother appear in such a way after years of the man openly denying their familial bond– he was mostly okay with it, could see where he was coming from, so he simply bows his head in respect as a greeting, knowing his place as well as the next gentleman, voice almost breaking at having to guide himself as such in front of his younger brother “Your grace”

Yet Taehyung would seem to have grown a lot like the strong man he remembers his father to be– always reproached him for being. “Cut the bullshit Seokjin, I saw you with the woman I am to marry” Seokjin can’t help but find his shoes entirely more interesting than the man rightfully accusing him of stepping over boundaries with his betrothed, the younger sighs deeply, most probably let down at Seokjin’s behaviour, as he has every right to be “When will you ever stop disgracing this family?”

He’s almost out the door as Seokjin mutter a somewhat unuseful “I’ll leave, the day after tomorrow”

“Good”

“You’re leaving?” your laugh dies in your throat as Seokjin’s fingers stop tracing your exposed skin– a tremendous mistake, your mother would input, having you offer yourself to Seokjin mere days before you’re being married off to his brother.

Seokjin pulls his head down to level with yours, lips barely touching yours as his fingers caress your cheek, “My job here is done”

The quietness in the room makes up a lot of noise as you look straight at him in the eye, rays of sunshine dripping through the window as they warm up both of your naked bodies laying in bed “I don’t think I can marry your brother”

Seokjin’s heart aches inside his chest as soon as the words leave your mouth, yet he finds enough strength within to say “You can, and you will” he pecks your lips “You will be the most beautiful Duchess out there” a kiss to your forehead “Y/N of York and Albany” lips to your temple “Your grace”

His body is on top of yours in a flat second, hands caressing the side of your exposed body before his fingers travel down to your folds, lips all over your face, kisses resounding in the heavily warm room. A gasp escapes past your lips and a smile draws on his face as soon as two of his fingers go inside your cunt, he barely moves as he lets you adjust to the new feeling, you can feel some wetness down there as he removes his digits, opting to coat your folds with your juices, thumb circling your bud as his mouth travels down to the expanse of your neck, teeth barely grazing your skin as you feel yourself clench around nothing, hips moving up and forward in a futile attempt to recreate the friction he had been doing before, bringing a bubbling laugh out of Seokjin’s throat. Yet he complies. This time, he starts pumping his fingers in and out gently, leaving you closed eyes and moaning–relishing the moment as the sun hits the side of his face, almost angelical. You barely have a second to process the reality of it all, rutting against Seokjin’s hands as he speeds up his movements. Your hand travels down his body, barely grazing the tip of his cock that has him hissing, yet all he does is let his open mouthed kisses travel along your neckline.

“Wait-I- I wanna help too” you manage to moan out between breaths and him adding a finger inside you, scissoring the ones already inside.

“This is all about you, Y/N”

Seokjin is quick to remove his hand as soon as you start quirming to much, opting to let himself sit on his knees, your neck straining to try and steal a look at his doings as he reclines himself, hands on the back of your thighs, propping your legs on his shoulders as he dives right in, wet muscle against your already wet and shiny and worked up folds, the warmth of his movements on your clit have your back hitting the bed further not long after he’s slurping you up, fingers coming back at their own thrusting pace as you feel a knot forming in the pit of your stomach, head spinning as Seokjin nibbles on your bundle of nerves, allowing you to ride through your climax.

Your eyes open after a brief moment, coming eye to eye to the image of Seokjin handling his hardness, hand jerking himself off, growing stiffer by the second before he catches your eye, smiles tenderly, eyes shining brightly, voice barely above a whisper as he lines himself with your entrance. “May I?”

His thrusts are gentle, lips catching yours, always slow and reassuring every time your brows furrow awkwardly, the sheer amount of touching, along with his increasing pace has you clenching around him, the sounds the both of you let out resounding in the room in a way that has you thanking the loneliness such a cabin provides. His movements soon turn erratic, less paced and chasing in a way that has him painting your walls white with his seed, marking you down as forever his before he collapses beside you, sweaty bodies sticking together, smiles plastered on both of your faces that seem to at least temporarily make the scary and unstable future fade far away.

The days seem to all blend between each other perfectly, the voices around you barely muttering a word your way as the wedding becomes the talk of the town–it is indeed, not everyday that such a high ranking family like the Kims are willing to unite a son heir of Dukedom to a much lower ranking family; you can’t help but remember the words Seokjin so softly spoke before, sweet nothings on true love and freewill that now just seem nothing more than a figment of your imagination. Seokjin had returned to the city, a longing gaze along with a sweet smile and a kiss on the top of your head as he walked off. Soon enough the manor was back to being what it was before– inhabited, cold, lonely. No traces of such a human as Kim Seokjin ever lived there, with his morning tea, freshly dropped newspapers and soft gazes to the horizon as the sunlight embraced his perfectly handsome face. You find you can’t really fathom Kim Taehyung ever being related to Kim Seokjin. Not when the man stands boorishly against a worn out tree, nor when he mentions three days being left before the wedding, not even more so as you stand across from him on the altar as both of your families–and most part of the town– get together to celebrate such a joyous day.

Vows are practised and quickly enounced, a small part of your heart breaks when you turn to the public, watching Kim Seokjin sitting at the back of the room, the last bit of hope shattering right in front of your eyes as you watch him leave the place with a stoic frown on his face once the infamous line on intervening the union comes around. You don’t see the elder man ever coming back in, something deep down tells you you have lost him as soon as you are pronounced Taehyung’s wife.

“Ladies aren’t supposed to laugh over dessert, Y/N” Taehyung’s tone is berating, almost automatically making you roll your eyes, wonder if this is what Seokjin had so much as warned you about when he mentioned his younger brother being “A bit stale on the humour”

Your mind can’t help but recall all the times Seokjin had corrected your manners on the table, giving out useful pointers, always accompanied by some sort of praise on being glad you were always being yourself over your poised facade. Can’t help but let your mind wander how different would life be if Seokjin was standing in Taehyung’s place.

Mornings with Kim Taehyung are quite uneventful, the man quite insisting on keeping separate rooms for the night, pronouncing words about working late hours– yet you are still not sure what exactly he could mean about it.

The first morning sickness comes exactly two months after your wedding, a quick trip to the bathroom in order to spill the contents of whatever snack you had munched on the night before after dinner, although by the second week of it being a common occurrence, you can’t help but wonder if it was time yet of any bug being around town. The urgency behind getting an assisting doctor overriding whatever silent pact you and your now husband had had for the past few weeks, in order to approach him in his study hours where you are greeted by the impassive man with glasses perched on his nose as he carefully eyes you before opening his mouth to speak.

“Mother and father do not have the need to know, they’ll be a Kim either way” the last part of his sentence gets lost in the way that he disdainfully goes back to the papers spread on his desk.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re with child” and it seems like he had drawn the conclusion himself, no need for medical opinions, pure observance and a hundred percent certainty in his voice–you can’t help but wonder if he had learnt such a thing from his brother; Taehyung takes the time to look up at you and mutter three words that have your whole world spinning and threading some sense into the events from the past few months “My brother’s child”

Word spreads like fire after the Kim manor’s staff gets a hold of the information along with watching your body adjust to welcoming the new life inside of you. As much as Taehyung seems to navigate the lie perfectly with carefully curated polite words, bowing of his head at the congratulatory words and accepting gifts with utmost care, you can’t help but roam your eyes around the room everytime someone mentions the pregnancy. You soon find you can’t hold eye contact with his parents over dinner anymore, even behind all those layers of gratefulness and tender heartedness that come with knowing you’re carrying Kim Seokjin’s child, you can’t help the shame that goes along with your husband knowing and accepting you are to birth a rightful heir to his Dukedom that is not his, but his exilated brother. A man you are still not quite sure which place he holds in the younger’s heart.

Shame turns into something just a tad darker as soon as your belly grows and Taehyung is softly mumbling words that you can’t quite hear as his large hands make a home on the side of your stretched stomach, feeling firsthand the life both you and his brother had created out of what you can only pronounce as true love. There’s a sad longing on his striking features as he does so, the sun going down illuminating the lounge as he seems to contemplate the universe as a whole, staring off into space as his fingertips touch every cervix of your clothed belly. It had never been a secret just how much Kim Taehyung had aspired to be a father, the people absolutely delighted and congratulating him on his first born–if only it wasn’t about to be the one who was conceived at the heights of a delightful summer affair behind closed doors, by none other than his then future wife and his very own free spirited brother.

As soon as morning sickness lets up, you can’t help yourself from roaming around the gardens that take you to where Seokjin had once made a home for the both of you, the early morning breeze chilling your bones as your naked feet wet themselves with morning spring, heart leaping at the reminiscence of what could have been if possible. Taehyung can’t help the sadness inside of him, thinking back to all those times he had silently watched from the very own window he’s staring down from, as you and his brother played around like infants in the gardens that collided with the Kim manor. Deep down he had always known his brother wasn’t cut for the part he was born and raised into, always preferring to walk his own path rather than take the easier way out– now he can perfectly see how the two of you would work together. It was such a pity he had always been the one to do a toll, taking every step his father had once taken that landed them in such a great position. If having to raise his very own child as his, no questions asked, he would do it in a heartbeat. On gloomy days where your feet seem to drag you just a tad slower, he can’t help but wonder if the child would take after both of you, soul full of light only reaching for the beauty in the world, the best in people, their own happiness. If the child would also run the disgrace of finding a free spirited soul like them– like you both had done– the universe placing them together only to be ripped apart, condemned to a future of longing.He wonders if then, his mother would know the child would be too much like Seokjin for anyone’s comfort.

Taehyung also pretends he does not see the letters coming in.

He pretends he does not recognise the perfectly calligraphy that adorns the envelopes as if he had not grown on the extensive writings his older brother had so gently provided for him in an effort to show his love for the younger. Kim Seokjin is nowhere to be found, not by him, nor his father, nor yourself. So he lets you have as much.

Kim Taehyung also pretends he does not write letters of his own back to his brother, using the unofficial mailman he has hired for such things, letting him know the child, a precious little girl, had been born and was healthy and well cared for. Not a word comes out of his mouth as the letters double in quantity after that.

You’re holding your baby in your arms, barely asleep in the comfort of your warmth when Taehyung comes into the feeding room, the softest gaze you had seen him sport on his face, and all while very clearly aware of whose child it was, you can’t help the words slipping out of your mouth “You’re a great man, Kim Taehyung, for I know I am nothing but lucky to have you take responsibility on something that wasn’t yours to take, but you are a man as cold as the winter that envelops this land”

He’s by your side in a second, you can’t seem to shake away the feeling that this was the very first time he had really taken a look at you. Taehyung’s heart fills with something he had deemed lost too long ago, after his brother had left the manor under his father’s persistence, the years of hearing his mother cry herself to sleep, mourning her son’s departure breaking whatever small ability he had ever poses of feeling a sense of familiarity of his own. He would have blamed it on endorphins if asked, the way his lips are warm against yours for the very first time after the wedding.

Seokjin’s letters had stopped, not a word ever mentioned on whatever trips of his that had seemed closer to each other as he expressed his eternal gratitude of being able to rank just a little bit higher during one of his expeditions. Words thrown around about being able to give you and your child every single piece of gold you both deserved, wanting to provide, perhaps at the expense of whatever crazy idea had crossed his mind that day, at this pace I could become king, Y/N, so wait for me. His last letter had been read.

Entering Taehyung’s study wasn’t completely off limits, at least you could pretend as much, even as he acted more open to your marital life, no real conversations had ever taken place. The man was out for some business as you let yourself in. A velvet sealed letter resting atop of his wooden desk, the words Important matter: Kim Seokjin written in gold. Curiosity takes the best of you as you open the envelope, vision growing blurry as soon as your mind registers the words you had just read.

“Dearest Kim Taehyung, your Highness.

It is with immense regret and bewilderment that I write this letter to inform you of your late brother’s passing on duty. I accompany you and your family in your grief, for he was an excellent man. Please allow me to ask you to contact me further for the preparations.”

The passing hours feel like an eternity as you find the information on the letter. A tear stained face, a newly born baby to a man that was deemed gone without a proper goodbye, A promise of someday and forever all at once and your heart ripping your chest apart as the words fail to register themselves fully in your mind.

Taehyung’s bed is always empty, now the small faltering handwritten note that lays beside him is a newly presented commotion itself, even more so as the words utter sonnet upon sonnet on thankfulness and true love, along with an empty room and a lonely crib that has the smart man deciding upon taking an irrational leap of faith and onto what his father had always called a coward’s way of life, choosing to believe your words on true love and hoping that you would find whatever it was you were looking for.

The condolences are almost refreshing on his scorched heart as he put on a show on you and your child’s disappearance, assuring everyone that you would most certainly not come back. The caskets are shut and empty inside. It’s such a pity, after what we heard about your brother just last month. Some others deem it a curse that he’s sure is now being suspected of being passed down the Kim lineage.

If true love truly did exist, he can only hope both you and Seokjin find it.

The market had always been a city thing, impersonal and aloof, something to distract his running mind during the weekends he could let himself travel. Taehyung is always left surprised at the rate at which the city keeps on growing. It has become a hiding spot of sorts. Which is exactly the reason why he does not even bat an eye as his gaze runs into a much too familiar one, Kim Seokjin stands proudly, dressed like something more than a Duke himself, crouching down to envelop a little girl’s body in a hug, a bow of his head let his brother know he is seen and had done well, some might even say thankful for it, if only they were to properly be able to acknowledge each other. You turn around, face glowing, all too familiar protruding belly as the second one is on their way. He can’t even reprimand his own decisions, going against what he once stood for as he watches the both of you glow under your own light, love tearing the seams as two ghosts of his past keep on walking the path they had always dreamed of. Their very own path. Kim Taehyung wishes he could do things all over again. He gets it now.

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thebangtancloud · 2 years

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Hi! can i get a Jin text au where he finds y/n's number in a lost sketchbook and tries to return it to them and y/n gets embarrassed that he saw the messy doodles and illustrations inside.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

A/n: this was super cute omg, I really hope you enjoyed this as much as I did making it!!

Permanent Taglist: @royallyjjk , @joondiary , @0xnna0 , @cuteipat , @koalasandcuddles , @bangrauhl13 ,@blissedjoon , @underratedbitch-number13 , @tinyoonsblog , @itachi-chi @sparkyprotectionsquad @scuzmunkie @uno7 , @jhopesucker , @kitty-kair , @persefoneniverse , @k1ngsnak3 , @rapmonie2047 , @i-cant-choose-a-username-help

#kim seokjin scenarios #kim seokjin imagines #kim seokjin fluff #kim seokjin text imagines #seokjin fluff #seokjin imagines #seokjin fluff imagines #seokjin text imagines #jin fluff #jin text imagines #bts fake texts #bts text imagines #bts smau

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raplinesmoon · 1 year

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OTR! Headcanon for Jin Day:

OC spent hours baking him a cake, losing her gdamn mind over the recipe bc between the two of them, she’s not as culinarily gifted, only for this man to karate chop it clean into half (much to her chagrin)

Eventually she understands why he did it though, bc the baby giggles and squeals in the background put the biggest smile on both of their faces

#everybody meet baby kim!!#who loves watching their appa be a fool #kim seokjin #Seokjin #Jin #fic: on the ropes #Seokjin x reader #Seokjin x you #Seokjin fic #seokjin fics #seokjin imagine #seokjin imagines #Seokjin headcanon #Seokjin fluff

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dreamescapeswriting · 2 years

Text

Kinktober ~ Day 19 ~ Breeding ~ KSJ [M]

⤜WORD COUNT: 0.8K

⤜PAIRING: Jin x Fem!Reader

⤜GENRE: smut, minors DNI, non-idol, unprotected sex, breeidng kink, pregnancy kink,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - Kinktober 2022

⤜MASTERLIST

The sad face on the pregnancy test was there to haunt you, you were almost sure of it. For months now you and Jin had been trying to make a baby and it seemed as though the world wasn't intent on giving one to you. Though all of the doctors told you it could take time but you were a little too impatient when it came to things sometimes. Jin stared at you as you walked back into the bedroom and threw the stick into the bin,

"Not pregnant," You mumbled trying not to cry at the stupid little symbol, Jin's eyes saddened a little, he was just as excited to get pregnant as you were and to see you so disheartened killed him inside. This time he'd been almost sure it would have worked, the two of you were constantly trying to stay optimistic about it all but it looked like it was going to be another long few months of trying not that either of you minded. You loved hearing how animalistic Jin would sound whenever he was fucking you, even now the thought of it alone was turning you on.

"It's okay baby, we can keep-" He didn't have time to finish his sentence before you began kissing him roughly, peeling off your clothes as you made your way over to the bed. Jin smirked against your lips as he was suddenly pushed down onto the edge of the bed,

"F-Fuck, try right now?" He smirked at you as you nodded at him, licking your lips as he took off his clothes leaving you both completely naked.

"You're so hot," He whispered as he slowly starts to rub your clit in circles, your hips bucking against his touch as you look at him and whine, you weren't in the mood for teasing tonight.

"No teasing," You whined at him, sliding your hand down and pumping his already hard cock.

"Of course," He smirked laying you down on the bed as he aligns his tip at your entrance. Jin leaned down and kissed you deeply as he slowly pushes into you, both of your moans muffled as you kissed softly.

"You're s-so fucking wet baby," He moans out as he looks down at you, his fingers reaching down to rub your clit.

"G-Gotta get this pussy ready for breeding," He smirks at you, his thrusts starting to get rougher as you clench around him as your hands made their way into his hair and fisted it softly.

"Ugh fuck, Jin," You cry out, feeling your stomach tightening ever so slightly with every thrust he was giving to you, you dug your heels into his ass pulling him deeper into you. Jin groans your name as he looks down at you, spearing into you as a wave of desire floods over you both.

"Fucking hell, d-don't stop." You begged, your nails dragging down his back as he continued to shove into you roughly. Both of you left panting and sweating heavily,

"Feels so fucking good," He grunts at you, thrusting harder as you moan his name out loudly. This was your favourite part, whenever he would just let go of everything and fuck you with no thought about anything else.

"Going to breed that perfect little cunt," He growls, both of you whimpering as he continued his roughly fast-paced thrusts.

"J-Jin!" You scream out, getting closer as he smirks at you, he knew you were close he could feel it with the way you were gripping his cock like a vice.

"G-God, don't stop," You begged, looking up at him as he continued to pound into you, his hands on your hips tightening.

"B-Baby," He warns you as you nod at him, letting him know that it was okay for him to cum. You moan his name out louder as he slams in and out of your pussy, your legs starting to tremble and shake against him.

"Shit! JIN!" You scream out as your orgasm suddenly hits you, sending your hips bucking. Your body arched away from the mattress and Jin sucked on your nipples, smirking as he pounded into you.

"F-Fill me up baby,...P-Please," You beg as Jin lets out an animistic grunt and spills into you, hissing a little as you clench around him. Jin held himself still as he looked down at you, refusing to pull out as you let out a small giggle at the feeling of it all.

"S-So fucking hot," You whine at him, slowly stroking your hand through his curls as you stared down at one another.

After a couple of minutes, you slowly felt Jin starting to get hard again and you whimper at him,

"J-Jin?" You moaned out in surprise, staring at him as he winks at you.

"I told you I was going to breed that fucking cunt and I meant it," He smirks at you, sucking on your neck as he slowly begins to thrust all over again Jin was going to make sure you got pregnant even if it was the last thing he did.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @rjdy-367 @rjsmochii @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @army24--7 @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @kimahnjung98 @halesandy @ethereallino @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @psychosupernatural @lyoongx @heeseunger24 @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts smut #seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin imagine #seokjin imagines #seokjin smut #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin imagine #kim seokjin imagines #kim seokjin smut

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Note

Congratulations once again on the milestone Jen! You are amazing and deserve every big milestone coming your way! For the request can I please get prompt 19-“i’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.” with Jin? Thank you in advance and I hope you have fun writing it!

pink bean fever | ksj

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre/warnings: best friend's roommate to ??, college au, fluff, swearing, mentions of pink bean but they're 1000% inaccurate bc i know nothing about maple story pls don't come for me, unedited !!

word count: 1.8k

note: jiya !! thank you so much for requesting this :') i had fun with it and i hope you like it too!! also, it's still jinnie's birthday somewhere so i will still consider this a birthday fic lol

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Kim Namjoon, you’re going to kill him.

Kim fucking Namjoon.

Forty five minutes ago, you were getting ready to walk to your best friend's dorm so you two could go get dinner together somewhere nearby. Now, you're sitting on his bed, Namjoon nowhere in sight, just a few feet from his roommate Seokjin.

The guy that you have the biggest, fattest crush on.

You swear Namjoon did this on purpose. That motherfucker.

You watch Seokjin as he practically screams into the mic attached to his headset, his fingers skillfully bouncing on the keyboard of the laptop in front of him, playing a game you know nothing about.

"Jungkook ah! Where the fuck were you?! I almost got killed!"

This has been going on for almost twenty minutes now - you awkwardly perched on Namjoon's bed while Seokjin either screeches in excitement when he wins, or wails in agony when he loses the game. This is the fucking worst way to spend a Saturday evening.

You glance at your phone, praying to every god to make Namjoon reply to your hundredth text message cursing him out and asking where he is. You never should've told him about your crush on his roommate. He even had the audacity to laugh when you finally revealed who the object of your affection was. That fucking guy.

Objectively speaking, Seokjin is pretty lame. From what you can tell, he basically has no social life. He doesn't party, doesn't go out, doesn't take an interest in anything that doesn't have the words "Maple Story", "Super Mario", or "League of Legends" in it. All he does is play video games all day with his friends, whom you assume are the same people he's yelling at now. Namjoon told you that once, Seokjin forgot to eat anything for two days straight because he was on his computer the entire time.

That begs the question: If Seokjin was so lame, why are you so enamored with him? The answer is very simple. Seokjin is as cute as he is lame, which is to say that he is very fucking cute. When you met him earlier in the semester when Namjoon got assigned a new roommate, it was love at first sight.

However, you don't think you've ever held a one-on-one conversation with him before. Tonight might be the first time, when he opened the door for you and said you could wait for Namjoon here. You had squeaked out a shy Yes and followed him into the room where he offered you a glass of water before he returned to his computer, leaving you to wait around for a person you knew had left you to fend for yourself in the wilderness. This is exactly why Namjoon is doing this, you think. He's been telling you for a couple weeks now to just talk to Seokjin like a normal person instead of tripping over your words like a lovestruck idiot.

Occassionally, he looks over his shoulder at you, and you have to whip your head to the other side of the room so quickly you're surprised you didn't pull a muscle, just to not make it obvious that you've been staring at him like a weirdo.

After a while, Seokjin takes off his headset only to replace it with a hat. A... cap? You don't even know what it is. It's got a face of something pink with big round eyes and purple horns, and looks like it should be a plushie instead of something to wear on one's head. His friends have probably gone elsewhere, because he turns off the shooter game he was previously engaged in to play something else by himself.

"Sorry," he says. "I was pretty loud, wasn't I?"

"No, it's fine. I didn't mind," you tell him sheepishly. "Did Joon, uh, tell you when he'd be back?"

Seokjin shrugs. "No. He just said he was going for a quick walk. Went out right before you got here, actually."

Someone give you strength.

He turns back to his screen when you give a hum in acknowledgement. You go back to sitting in silence again, only this time, you notice that when he curses at the game, he makes an effort to lower his volume. Seokjin has a really nice voice, you think. Even when he's cussing, you just want to put it on a tape and listen to it for hours on end.

Okay, that is one thought that you should probably never say aloud. Especially not to Kim fucking Namjoon.

Another 15 minutes pass until Seokjin pauses the game to down the glass of water on the table in front of you - the one between his and Namjoon's bed. You pretend to look around the room even though you've got it memorized at this point. It's pretty small, and the guys don't really have a lot of decorations. Aside from a couple of Namjoon's art prints on the wall and a few of Seokjin's stuffed animals - how fucking cute is that? Jesus Christ, you are so whipped - the room doesn't have that much personality.

You can feel him looking at you as he gulps down his water, clearly not knowing what to say either. You could pass out from the sheer awkwardness that's suffocating the space.

You clear your throat. "Can I, uhm, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What is that on your head?"

Seokjin puts down the glass and takes off his cap, holding it out so you can see it better. "Pink Bean!" he says with a grin. Goddamn, he is beautiful.

"Is that a character?"

He gasps, running a hand through his hair - which looks so, so soft that you want nothing more than to just run your fingers through it. His eyes widen until they're almost as big as the ones on the strange Bean creature. "You don't know what Pink Bean is?!"

"Should I?" you ask, unconsciously making yourself smaller as he stares at you. Seokjin looks equally as excited as he looks offended, shooting up from his chair to bounce onto Namjoon's bed, right next to you.

Your chest almost explodes. In your head, there's a series of question marks floating around; in your heart, there's a bunch of exclamation points detonating like fireworks. Oh god, what is happening?

"Uhm, yes! It's just one of my favorite characters of all time, duh! Okay, okay, so-"

Seokjin launches straight into a whole TED talk on Pink Bean, giving you its extensive backstory and just about everything in the universe that's related to Pink Bean - the quests, its powers, something called a Chaos Pink Bean? Every word he's saying is going into one ear and out the other. To you, he might as well be speaking a different language because you understand none of it and frankly, you don't even care.

But holy moly, he is so passionate about it. He talks about this stuff like Pink Bean is the love of his life and he's gonna marry it one day. Even though you're retaining about zero percent of all this information, watching him ramble is so endearing. His eyes are so bright, and throughout this impromptu presentation of his, he has to pause for a few seconds to catch his breath from all the talking.

You stifle a laugh, and he stops. Seokjin scratches his neck, putting the cap on his head again and looking at you with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to talk your ears off."

"No, no, it's just-" You shake your head with a chuckle. "I've never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you freeze. He freezes. You want the ground to open up so you could fall into that chasm and never be seen again. Life does not have any meaning anymore. Fuck Namjoon, you're not staying here anymore.

"I mean- Not that I think you're cute, it's just- Well, wait, no, I do think you're cute, but it's not-"

You could see a deep blush painting Seokjin's face, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. You tear your eyes away from him like the idiot that you are. Your lips part, but no words come out because your brain is just blank at this point. You knew you would say something dumb and now you're knee-deep in embarrassment in front of your crush. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

Seokjin clears his throat. "Do you and Namjoon have plans tonight?"

You purse your lips and nod, though you're not sure if he's still looking at you because you're suddenly so keen on not looking at him. "We're just getting dinner," you say with faux nonchalance, as if you hadn't just called him cute two seconds ago and both of you seemed to have absolutely no idea what to do about it. "Joon said there's a new ramen place or something near campus."

"Is it the place where they have ramen sliders? I told him about that place. I've been meaning to go too but, uhm, I don't have anyone to go with."

Oh, hell no. You are not going to invite him to join you and Namjoon after that comment. In fact, you're not going to see Seokjin ever again. You're going to make Namjoon apply for a room reassignment just so you don't have to cross paths with Seokjin. Welp, this silly crush has been fun and miserable. Goodbye forever-

"If Namjoon ditches you, we can probably go together. Or something. Maybe. I don't know."

Your body stiffens, and you know he can probably tell since he's still sitting so close to you and you're not exactly being subtle. Heat creeps up your neck and splatters color onto your cheeks. You're thankful that your hair can cover some of it to preserve what little dignity you have left.

"It's okay. You don't have to. I'll probably- I should, no-" you stammer, "I'll just go home."

"Y/N," Seokjin says, "it's dinner. I'm pretty sure we'll survive a meal together."

"No, I know. It's-"

"Okay. Then let's go."

Before you can say anything, he's standing up. Your panicked eyes follow him as he moves to his side of the room to grab his jacket and ditch the Pink Bean hat. You rush to your feet, spluttering out every polite variation of No, please don't make me do this. I'm practically in love with you and this will only kill me dead that you could think off, but Seokjin is already ushering you out the door.

When he stops by the entryway to grab his keys on bowl next to the door, you could feel his chest pressed against your back. You're going insane with nerves and butterflies and mortification and anticipation and infatuation with this man and this is not fucking helping.

Behind you, Seokjin's low voice sends shivers down your spine with what he tells you next.

"For the record, I think you're cute too."

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin fluff #seokjin imagines #seokjin scenarios #seokjin reactions #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts fic #seokjin #bts #fic: pink bean fever

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hellbornsworld · 19 days

Text

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(12).° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ

🪩 Miracle Of The Season | Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader | OneShot | @cybrsan

🪩 There’s Only Me When There’s You | Jungkook x Reader | OneShot | @koostattoos

🪩 PRINCESS TREATMENT | JK X Reader | Series | @2hightocare

🪩 best friends..? | best friend!Jungkook x fem!reader | Series | @just4koo

🪩 Home for the Holidays | jungkook x f. reader | OneShot | @jjungkookislife

🪩 Closer To You | Rich, spoilt brat!Jeongguk X Doctor! Reader | OneShot | @back2bluesidex

🪩 First type of Soul Mate: The Soul Crossing Mate | Prince!Jungkook X Reader | @beautifulfuckup99

🪩 What he wants, he gets | Jeon Jungkook x Reader (idol au) | OneShot | @wildestdreamsblog

🪩 Debut | sunbaenim!JK X Reader | OneShot | @yankpop

🪩 Cruel Beast | idol yandere Jungkook x Idol Y/n | OneShot | @kangmoon27

🪩 PREDESTINED | Mortal/commer jk x goddess reader | OneShot | @keen-li

🪩 ＤＥＡＴＨ | Yandere! Dark! Android! Jeon Jungkook x Widower! Fem! Reader | @pynkgothicka

🪩 Daddy Daycare | Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader | Series | @bunnyhugs77

🪩 Yours Truly | popular jungkook x tsundere f reader | @solemnreads

🪩 Cherry Flavored | Biker!JK X Reader | OneShot | @jungkookstatts

🪩 Oath | JK X Reader | Mafia AU | Series | @bangtan-yeonghon

🪩 too young | single dad!jungkook X Reader | series | @jeonggukookies

🪩 How to Get Rid of Your Virginity | badboy!jungkook x theaternerd!reader | OneShot | @strvngeweather

🪩 Mr. Take Your Bitch | Idol!JK X Reader | OneShot | @bunnyhugs77

🪩 Focused on her | aged jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @000jeon

🪩 sorry (not sorry) | JK X Reader | OneShot | @angelguk

🪩 ALL AT ONCE | unhinged jungkook X shy oc | Series | @muniimyg

🪩 Valentine Vixen | Stripper! Reader x Rich! Jungkook | OneShot | @bunnyhugs77

#bangtan #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook smut #yoongi #seokjin #jk recommendations #jk jk #jk icons #jk x reader #jk x ck #jk x you #jk x calvin klein #bts army

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levanterhaze · 1 year

Text

✧ SEOKJIN IMAGINES ✧

HOW TO LOVE (drabble) — just a drabble with how the hyung line demonstrates affection & love.

#seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #seokjin x you #seokjin imagine #seokjin imagines #kim seokjin x you

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effortandmore · 9 days

Text

caught looking: chapter 7 (knj x ksj)

pairing: seokjin x namjoon

rating: e for everyone for now but there is adult content in later chapters so no minors pls

genre: etl, fluff, eventual smut

au: baseball, specifically the kbo

warnings/tags: idk... swearing, drinking, and general sports things? some blackmail kind of and discussions of homophobia in sports. a drunk ex being drunk and pushy. eventual smut of the gay variety.

wc: chapter: ~4800

chapter summary: jeongguk has them all figured out, and seokjin finally figures out one very important thing

hello! here are chapters one two three four five and six if you'd like them. or the whole thing is on ao3 here . thank you!

***

Even before Seokjin officially started at Kiwoom, he thought bringing Jeongguk onto the team would be a good idea. Now that it’s a done deal, he knows without a doubt it was the right move. Sure, it’s not a seamless transition, nothing is, but even though he still has to look at the positioning card with every hitter, he’s fitting in faster than anyone could have expected.

The team loves him, which is the most important thing (at least according to Namjoon, who seems to have forgotten that pitching is technically the most important thing).

Taehyung’s mood since Sangwon left has been vastly improved, and he takes it as his personal mission to spend as much time as possible getting Jeongguk up to speed. Daily now, Seokjin sees them together everywhere: the locker room, the weight room, on the field, the training room. They’re practically inseparable, and it’s done wonders for the whole rotation.

Jeongguk is slotted in second, and he’ll be starting once or twice a week. He still likes to pick up bullpen innings, but the pitching staff has cautioned against it, and Jimin agrees. They have to protect his elbow. Jeongguk is young, with a lot of potential, and overthrowing now will only lead to problems later on when he presumably will hit his peak. Namjoon explains this to him in hushed tones, and Jeongguk listens with wide eyes, like it’s the most interesting thing anyone’s ever said to him. Seokjin is sure this is one of the things people like about the kid immediately—it’s hard not to feel like you’re incredible and important when someone’s looking at you like that.

And he always looks at Namjoon like that.

Seokjin isn’t at all a little jealous, but only because he thinks that the way Jeongguk is so obvious about thinking Namjoon is incredible might make the way that Seokjin thinks so, too, a little less obvious. Or, he hopes it does, anyway.

For a week after his arrival, Jeongguk watched every game from the dugout. Everyone could tell it was making him crazy to be so inactive—he spent them pacing around and muttering to himself when he wasn’t watching each batter intently, trying to memorize every small detail about them.

Today, though, is his first start. Seokjin and Namjoon have been talking through strategy with the coaching staff, holed up in Namjoon’s office.

(When things are busy like this, and they’re focused on work, Seokjin almost forgets the unprofessional thoughts he sometimes has about Namjoon. Almost forgets laughing in a hotel room with him in Busan, almost forgets the way Namjoon sounded when he said, “I think you’re great, hyung,” in a low rasp.)

“Hyungs,” Jimin calls as he taps on the doorframe, “I think something’s wrong with Jeongguk, can you come?”

Namjoon shoots Seokjin a panicked look as they both rise and follow Jimin to the training room. There’s two hours before the game starts, about forty five minutes before they need to be on the field, and Jeongguk is sitting in an ice bath with his eyes closed and his headphones on, belting out an IU song that Seokjin hasn’t heard in years.

“He won’t move,” Jimin says. “He shouldn’t be cold like this before he starts and I can’t get him out.”

Leaning forward, Seokjin grabs one side of his headphones and pulls it away from the pitcher’s head before he lets go and it snaps back. Jeongguk’s eyes fly open and he scrambles to sit upright in the tub when he sees them all standing around him.

“Hyungs?” he says curiously as he pulls his headphones off. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you hurt?” Namjoon asks, the words coming out quickly. He’s concerned, obviously. Players don’t just choose to sit on ice unless they’re injured and Jimin makes them.

“No, I would’ve told you if I was, why?”

The poor kid looks genuinely confused.

“Most people don’t use the ice unless I make them,” Jimin says. “And you’ve been in there a long time.” He bends over and grabs one of the pitcher’s feet, hauling it up out of the water as evidence. “You’re getting wrinkly.”

Jeongguk smiles brightly. “This is my pre-game ritual! Being in the ice bath sucks, right?”

All three men around him just nod in agreement. Jimin and Namjoon look as bewildered as Seokjin feels. “It does,” he agrees. “So, why are you in there?”

“Because then, when things are hard during the game, I remind myself that I made it through the ice bath, so I can make it through anything.”

It would be insane if he didn’t look and sound so completely genuine about it.

Namjoon is the first to say something. “That actually… makes sense I guess.” Jeongguk nods happily. “But you should get out soon, okay? We need to get your arm warmed up.”

“Yes, hyung. I promise.”

Jimin still looks horrified, but something about how earnest Jeongguk is about the whole thing makes Seokjin think it will be okay. He steers Jimin away and leaves Namjoon and Jeongguk to talk through any last minute adjustments or ideas for the game.

“He’s a weird kid,” Jimin says. It comes out slowly, like there’s more to the sentence that he doesn’t add.

“Yeah, it seems like it.”

“I think I like him.”

“Me too, Jiminie.”

***

Whether it’s because of the unusual pregame preparation, his talent, or something else, Jeongguk pitches a nearly flawless game. Seokjin and Yoongi watch from the box as he sails through seven innings in 92 pitches. It’s not perfect, but it’s about as close as anyone would have imagined.

Yoongi is grinning like Seokjin hasn’t seen him do since university, and every once in a while, after a particularly well-delivered pitch, he slaps Seokjin’s thigh and bounces up and down in his seat a little, like an excited kid.

“How’d you know he could do this?” Yoongi asks, pleased.

“I didn’t.” Even Seokjin is surprised at the performance. “I knew he could keep the ball on the ground, but I didn’t realize he would get so many strikeouts, too. It wasn’t like that in Busan.”

“Taehyung’s influence?”

Seokjin shrugs. “Must be.”

Winning with Jeongguk as the starting pitcher brings Seokjin the kind of pride he’s always chasing. That silent confirmation that he’s good at what he does, that he knows how players will work (or not) together. It’s a win for the players, of course, but it feels like a personal victory, too. He even gets a text from his father telling him it was a good call to bring over the kid. Praise from Minjun is always sparse and feels hard-won, so even though Seokjin stopped measuring his worth by his father’s approval a long time ago, it still feels good.

By the time he makes it down to his office after the game, he’s in a great mood, ready to have a victory drink with Hoseok and play video games until he thinks he might have carpal tunnel syndrome. Yoongi told him to take the next day off, so he’s extra optimistic about how much progress he’ll be able to make in his game that night. It’s been a long time since he’s let himself indulge in foregoing sleep to play more, but he might allow himself that luxury tonight.

He’s packing up his bag and thinking about what delivery to order when there’s a knock on the door.

“Hyung?”

“Oh, hi Jeonggukie! You worked hard today, thank you.”

Jeongguk smiles wide, his teeth on display. “Thank you, hyung! That’s why I’m here, actually. I wanted to, well, thank you for the opportunity. I know you convinced everyone that I belonged here, and I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” Seokjin agrees. He keeps packing, but Jeongguk makes no move to leave the doorway. “Is there something else?”

The pitcher nods quickly. “Yes. Some of us are going out to celebrate and I was hoping you would come, since I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you to ask, but I’m kind of busy—”

Suddenly, Namjoon appears next to Jeongguk in the doorway. “Are you coming with us?” He looks like he’s just gotten out of the shower and changed, his hair still damp and sticking to his forehead in places.

Well, this changes things, even though it shouldn’t.

“Yeah, of course. Just let me finish packing up.”

Jeongguk looks between him and Namjoon and won’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. Seokjin knows he’s been caught, and he just hopes the kid has enough goodwill toward him to keep his mouth shut.

Luckily for Seokjin, he does. Instead, as they walk to the subway, Jeongguk grabs his sleeve and pulls him to the back of the group, teasing him quietly. “I know your secret, hyung,” he whispers. This earns him a flick on the forehead which is enough to distract him from the way Seokjin flushes with embarrassment. Soon, the two of them are half-walking and half-wrestling all the way to the station, where they start getting looks from every passing adult, wondering why two grown men are tackling each other down the escalator.

“Everything okay back there?” Jimin calls when he and everyone else make it to the bottom of the escalator well before Seokjin and Jeongguk.

Jeongguk freezes and looks embarrassed. “Yeah!” he shouts back. “Hyung flicked my head.”

“Hey! You tried to trip me!”

“You took my hat!”

“You deserved it!”

They argue all the way to the train when Namjoon finally asks if he needs to separate them like they’re his children.

“No!” They both practically yell at the same time, before turning to look at each other and then bursting into laughter. He can’t even remember what they were fighting about in the first place when, out of the corner of his eye, he catches Namjoon watching them double over with a fond look on his face.

They suck it up and behave for the train ride, just quietly kicking each other to see who can take it the hardest without flinching or making noise. By the time they make it to the same sort-of divey sports bar he’d met Yoongi and Namjoon at weeks ago, he’s sure his shins are bruised.

It’s loud in the bar, and thankfully, Jeongguk is distracted enough by everyone offering to buy him drinks that he finally leaves Seokjin alone for a while—long enough for him to find a booth to slide into and text Hoseok to see if he wants to meet up with them. Before long, a pink cocktail gets set right in front of him, and Namjoon takes the seat across the table.

“What’s this?”

“Dunno,” Namjoon shrugs. “Told the bartender my friend liked disgustingly sweet things, and he sent me back with this.”

Next to him, Yoongi snorts. “You’re a dick,” he tells Namjoon.

Yoongi’s right, but Seokjin takes a sip of the drink anyway. Unfortunately, it’s delicious.

“You like it?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah, thank you.”

The three of them don’t even have time to start a conversation before Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk are pouring themselves into the booth, too. Jimin sits, of course, across from Yoongi, right next to Namjoon, and smiles at him sweetly before he whispers something in his ear. Seokjin feels a little sick, the now familiar combination of jealousy and guilt making a home in his stomach again.

At the other end of the table, Taehyung and Jeongguk are rehashing the game excitedly. Even though he’s not really involved in either of the conversations, he’s glad he came. It’s not an all-night gaming marathon, but it’s just as nice (maybe better) to see Yoongi and Namjoon arguing the finer points of modern defensive strategy—Yoongi is surprisingly pro-shift and Namjoon thinks it ruins “the spirit of the game the way it was intended to be played”—while Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk passionately debate who would be better at darts.

“It’s obviously me,” Jeongguk says confidently, taking the opportunity to flex his bicep.

“Sure, you’re good at throwing things, but darts is about finesse, and Jiminie is the most graceful person on the whole planet,” Taehyung retorts.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “You haven’t seen me try to be graceful. I can be graceful! Plus, you’re biased.”

Jimin laughs, clearly pleased with the attention. “You’re right, Jeonggukie, he’s my soulmate, after all. Also, he might win. He’s willing to cheat.”

“Hey!” Taehyung protests, but it’s all a show. He winks at Jimin when Jeongguk isn’t paying attention, instead looking around the bar for an empty dartboard.

When he spots one, the three of them scramble out of the booth to prove who’s the better player, but Seokjin just feels frozen listening to them.

Yoongi and Namjoon don’t seem to have been paying them much attention, because they’re still talking about how any change to baseball ruins the sport (Namjoon), and modernization isn’t always evil (Yoongi).

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Seokjin blurts, absolutely interrupting their conversation.

“What?” Yoongi asks.

“No, not you. You.” He points at Namjoon. “Doesn’t it bother you that Jimin calls Taehyung his soulmate?”

At the question, Namjoon looks thoroughly confused. Maybe it’s some sort of open relationship thing? But that, from the apparently kind of traditional man who thinks the designated hitter would be some sort of death blow to the institution of baseball and everything it stands for, seems unlikely.

“No,” he says carefully. “Why would that bother me?”

“Well,” Seokjin says, gesturing a little wildly, “because of— well, because of you know! You and Jimin!”

Namjoon says nothing, just continues to look at Seokjin like he has two heads. Yoongi, for his part, smirks, looking like he’s about to burst, and asks, “What about Namjoon and Jimin?”

“I saw you!” Seokjin whispers loudly to Namjoon. “In Itaewon, remember?”

Yoongi is in full-on hysterics now, laughing so hard he’s wheezing. Seokjin isn’t quite sure what the joke is.

“You saw us…” Namjoon says slowly. “You saw us, and you thought we were… together?”

“Obviously,” Seokjin replies.

It’s no longer clear if Yoongi is even getting any oxygen, he’s flushing and has tears on his cheeks and every once in a while he just slaps the table.

“Seokjin. Hyung.” Namjoon is amused now, a dimple poking out as he smiles at Seokjin and speaks softly. “You know that Jimin brought your roommate home that night, right?”

“What?”

“While you and I were out, Jimin brought Hoseok home. And, if I’m not mistaken, he’s done it after that several times.”

Seokjin feels dizzy. Logically, he knows the booth isn’t moving, but it seems like it is. He feels hot and dizzy and a little confused because Hoseok had been trying to tell him, and there may have been other signs—like Namjoon showing up to Seokjin’s hotel room in Busan, or falling asleep on his shoulder, or just the sheer amount of time Namjoon seems interested in spending with Seokjin and not Jimin.

“So, you and Jimin…” he says weakly.

“Are friends. From college. Like you and Yoongi.”

“And Jimin and Taehyung?”

“I’m pretty sure they share a brain cell, but they’re definitely not together. In fact…” Namjoon points to the high top where the three of them are playing darts. Jimin is giggling while Taehyung practically hangs off of Jeongguk, and he’s either whispering something to the pitcher or sucking on his neck, Seokjin can’t tell. “I think Jimin’s been trying to play wingman since Jeongguk got here.”

Yoongi, finally not laughing anymore, chimes in. “Pretty sure that’s not the only match he’s been trying to make.”

Namjoon hides his face and whines at Yoongi, “Can’t you go back to shutting up?”

Seokjin can’t even process that, he’s still stuck on the fact that Jimin and Namjoon aren’t together. Which means that all this time…

“You’re single?” Seokjin chokes out. It’s not any more embarrassing than anything else that’s happened in the last several minutes, but asking does make his neck hot and probably his ears turn pink.

It also throws Yoongi back into hysterical fits of laughter.

“Painfully single,” Namjoon confirms before taking a drink of his beer.

“Oh.”

“You know we have a no-dating policy on the team?” Yoongi reminds him for absolutely no reason because Seokjin is definitely not thinking very hard about what Namjoon looks like shirtless now that he’s decided he’s allowed to, since Namjoon is confirmed single.

“I think you’d better remind Taehyung of that,” Namjoon says, tilting his beer toward the high top, where things are escalating past the limits of public decency.

“You’re their boss,” Yoongi says quickly. “I’m not going near that. Actually, I don’t think I need to be here for any of this, but thanks for the entertainment.” He scoots out of the booth and pulls his coat on. “I’ll see you in a couple days. Don’t be stupid. Or, don’t be more stupid than you have been.”

Seokijn and Namjoon give a coordinated eye roll at their boss and wave goodbye.

“So, do you want to talk to them?” Seokjin asks, nodding toward Taehyung and Jeongguk. Jimin looks positively gleeful watching Taehyung say something to Jeongguk that makes the pitcher choke on his beer.

“No fucking way,” Namjoon says, shaking his head. “Once Taehyung decides he wants something, it’s futile to try and stop it.”

“Try and stop what?” Jimin asks as he approaches the table.

“Nothing,” Seokjin and Namjoon respond in unison.

“Mmhmm… Well, have fun, hyungs. I have to go meet Hobi.”

Seokjin squawks. “My Hoseokie?”

“Oh, hyung. Cute. But I’m pretty sure he’s mine now,” Jimin says with a wink.

“Should I…” Seokjin trails off, not sure how to ask.

“Nope! You’re safe. He’s coming to mine. See you on Friday, hyungs! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Namjoon mutters something about the list being impossibly short, which makes Jimin cackle as he shrugs on a denim jacket and walks away.

“I can’t believe you thought—”

“Shut up,” Seokjin interrupts. “Respect your hyung.”

Namjoon is laughing, and he’s gorgeous, and Seokjin finally doesn’t feel guilty for thinking so. It makes him practically giddy.

“I’ll respect you by buying you another drink?”

“Sure Namjoonie,” he says, placated, as Jeongguk and Taehyung approach the table.

“You’re leaving, too?” Namjoon asks.

Jeongguk has the decency to seem a little bit embarrassed, but Taehyung has no shame. “We sure are. Gonna go practice.”

“Practice?” Seokjin repeats, an eyebrow lifted.

“Yep! But I think Jeonggukie is doing the catching this time, if you know what I—”

Namjoon lets out a loud groan and drops his head to the table. “Stoooooop, please,” he whines, muffled.

Thankfully, Taehyung and Jeongguk leave after that, and if Seokjin didn’t now know more about their potential sex life than he ever wanted to, it would be cute—they’re hand in hand, and Jeongguk looks absolutely smitten.

“Well, it’s just us again,” Namjoon notes as he lifts his head back up.

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, the atmosphere suddenly a little awkward. Or, at least he feels a little awkward. Now that he knows Namjoon is single, and he thinks maybe what he’s been feeling isn’t entirely one-sided, he doesn’t actually know what to do. They work together, which complicates things, and Seokjin hasn’t even tried with anyone since Seungwook (which didn’t really boost his confidence for obvious reasons), so he’s a little at a loss for what comes next.

“Still want that next drink, hyung?”

Namjoon’s voice sounds a little wobbly and his knee is bouncing, like maybe he’s nervous. And when he smiles at Seokjin across the table, kind and sort of hopeful and a touch shy, Seokjin thinks maybe, for the first time since even before they met, they’re on the same page.

He thinks back to the night they walked all over town, and how brave Namjoon was at the end to tell him about Sangwon, and Seokjin thinks maybe, this time, he can be the brave one.

“Another drink sounds good. Want to come back to my place for it?”

Seokjin can’t remember the last time he brought someone home. He tries to be respectful of Hoseok, and Seungwook wasn’t really into getting to know Seokjin that well, anyway, so it’s been a long time. So, the taxi ride to his is quiet—he looks out the window and tries desperately to remember how much dirty laundry is on his floor (thank god for Hoseok being a neat freak so Seokjin’s room is the only one he needs to be concerned about), and Namjoon is still bouncing his leg like he was at the bar, only now, Seokjin can tell he’s also occasionally sneaking glances when he thinks Seokjin won’t notice. It’s sweet.

Once they’re inside, it starts to miraculously feel more normal between them pretty quickly. Namjoon busies himself looking at the photographs and figurines around the living room while Seokjin makes them drinks. Neither he nor Hoseok really drink beer, but he does have some whisky around from last time Yoongi came over, and Namjoon seems happy enough with that.

“Did you want the tour?” he asks, handing Namjoon a rocks glass.

“Sure! I like it already,” Namjoon says. “It’s so different from my place.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll have to see it sometime.” Right after he says it, he grins and covers his mouth with his free hand, like he can’t believe he said it.

“Smooth,” Seokjin remarks, feeling a little more confident than he can remember feeling in… forever.

“Was it?”

“No, but you’re cute so I’ll allow it.”

Namjoon laughs. “Cute? No one says I’m cute.”

“Ah, well,” Seokjin shrugs. “It’s the dimples. Without them you’d be a five at best.”

For a second, it’s like Namjoon isn’t quite sure if Seokjin is joking or not, but then they make eye contact and both burst into laughter. It helps to make Seokjin feel like the nervousness is leaving his body. It’s nice.

“Tour?” Namjoon cocks his head toward the hallway when he catches his breath, and Seokjin leads the way.

The apartment isn’t big, but there’s plenty of space for both him and Hoseok. They each have a bedroom, Seokjin explains that Hoseok has the master because Seokjin is a benevolent hyung who is always willing to make sacrifices (even though it’s really because Hoseok does most of the chores and keeps the place clean and it’s the least Seokjin can do).

When they get to Seokjin’s bedroom, Namjoon pays more attention, asking him about his gaming computer and all the things that go with it, looking at his shelves carefully, like he’s cataloging little facts about Seokjin as he goes. For his part, Seokjin doesn’t think there’s anything that exciting about any of it, but it’s keeping Namjoon entertained, which is putting off anything awkward.

He’d got Namjoon to his apartment, but now that they’re there, he’s nervous about everything (or nothing) that might come next.

Finally, after answering Namjoon’s one hundred questions about MapleStory, it gets quiet.

“It’s not that interesting,” Seokjin says as he sits on his bed. Namjoon’s spinning half circles in the gaming chair, complaining that it’s so much nicer than his office chair and that he should get one like it for work in between asking who all the characters in the game are.

Namjoon sets his drink on the desk, and Seokjin tries not to cringe that there’s no coaster—at least it’s not in a room where Hoseok will notice.

“Maybe I just like to hear you talk,” he says, planting his feet so the chair stops spinning and he’s facing Seokjin directly.

There is a 100% guarantee that Seokjin’s ears are pink. “That’s a line, Kim Namjoon.”

He gets a smirk in response. “Not if it’s true.”

The air feels summer evening thick between them, despite the aircon running in the apartment. Seokjin swears he can practically feel it hanging there, the way that birds know before lightning strikes. He swallows, and even his throat feels syrupy slow.

“What is this, Namjoonie?” he whispers, realizing that somehow, since Namjoon stopped spinning, they’ve been moving closer together, imperceptible movements compounded to the point that he can feel Namjoon’s breath on his lips.

“I think this is me about to kiss you,” Namjoon replies, and all the teasing is gone from his voice. “If that’s something you want.”

Seokjin nods. “Yes, pl—”

“Hyung! I’m hooooome!”

Hoseok.

Namjoon and Seokjin both drop their heads at the same time, and knock them together. Seokjin yelps and spills his drink all over himself and the bed, while Namjoon groans before he starts laughing.

Seconds later, Hoseok appears in the doorway. “Hi hyung… And Namjoon-ssi.”

“Hey, Hobi,” Seokjin says. “I, uh,” he gestures to his whisky-covered shirt. “I should go clean this up and change.”

Standing, Namjoon clears his throat before grabbing his glass and downing the rest of his drink. “I should go,” he says. “It’s pretty late.”

The disappointment Seokjin feels is palpable, and apparently written on his face, because Hoseok looks apologetic, and Namjoon asks quietly, “Walk me to the door?”

Luckily, Hoseok takes the hint and says goodbye to Namjoon, excusing himself to his room, and Namjoon uses the restroom, giving Seokjin the chance to change into something not covered in alcohol. Without thinking much about it, he pulls on an old hoodie that had been strewn across the back of his desk chair. It smells a little like Namjoon now, and he’ll never admit how much he likes that.

“I had a good night, hyung,” Namjoon says, when they meet back in the living room.

“Me too. Sorry about Hoseok,” he replies.

Namjoon just laughs quietly and shakes his head. “Terrible timing.”

“The worst,” Seokjin agrees.

“Maybe we can try again, sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Namjoon steps closer to him, pulling him into a hug. It’s nice—he’s warm and bigger than Seokjin, and it reminds him of hugging in Busan, except this time he’s able to let himself enjoy it more. It’s everything he can do not to just melt into it as he wraps his arms around Namjoon’s waist. “You know we have a no-dating policy on the team,” Namjoon teases in a whisper, mimicking Yoongi from earlier at the bar.

“Is there a no kissing policy, too?” Seokjin asks, lips brushing against Namjoon’s pulse, feeling his breath hitch.

“I hope not,” Namjoon sighs.

As they pull apart, Namjoon leaves a barely-there kiss on his temple. “I’ll call you,” he promises.

Seokjin feels like his head is on fire in the spot Namjoon’s lips touched his skin. It’s incredibly distracting. Enough that it’s all he can think about, wants to touch the spot to see if it actually feels warm. He’s so busy thinking about it, that the reply he comes out with is, “Not if I call you first.”

Namjoon laughs again—and Seokjin’s seen his laugh so many times for so many reasons, even just tonight it’s happened more times than he can count, but he’s pretty sure he’ll never stop wanting to be the cause of it.

“You’re a dork,” Namjoon says.

“I think it works for me,” Seokjin says, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“I think so too.” It’s so fond, Seokjin wants to scream into a pillow like a teenager. “Goodnight, hyung.”

Namjoon gives him a sweet smile as he leaves the apartment. It’s totally reasonable, Seokjin thinks, that he watches Namjoon as he leaves, watches him wait for the elevator and flushes when Namjoon gives him a wave before he gets on, and then peeks through to give him another before the doors slide closed.

Back in the apartment, he slumps against the door with a sigh. He can’t believe he was so close to having Namjoon’s lips on his, can’t believe that he’d been so wrong this whole time, can’t believe that his crush seems to be just as into him. Everything he’s been thinking about the past couple of months is almost about to be his reality, and he’s thrumming with excitement. If only he’d been able to act on it.

He hates waiting sometimes. Seems so unfair after all the time they’ve already wasted. Seokjin lets out another long sigh. He’s going to call Namjoon in the morning, but first, he’s going to kill his roommate.

#seokjin fic #namjoon fic #seokjin imagines #bts imagines #bts fanfction #kvanity #seokjin x namjoon #fic: cl

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