A/N: Started because of a TikTok I saw: hear me out: memory loss trope except the reader who gets amnesia latches onto the ONE person they shouldn't trust.
"I don't remember you, but I get the feeling we used to be close?" while their worst enemy smirks and says, "Oh, absolutely," (with the intention of k!lling)
and i totally loved the prompt so here it is
– might continue, might not i have a few ideas but idk if i can write them and make it good
Warnings: mentions of killing, amnesia/memory loss, kinda yandere themes? but not really
The hospital lights are too bright, and your head feels like it’s been split open and poorly glued back together.
You blink against the fluorescence and the first thing you see is him.
Kim Seokjin is sitting in the plastic chair beside your bed, elbows on his knees, chin resting on interlaced fingers. He’s wearing a soft gray sweater that makes him look harmless. The kind of harmless that gets people killed.
He smiles when your eyes meet his, warm, fond, devastatingly beautiful, and says, “Hey, jagi. You’re awake.”
Your voice comes out cracked and small. “Do… do I know you?”
His smile doesn’t falter, but something flickers behind his eyes, something sharp and starving.
“Of course you do,” he says gently, reaching out to brush your hair from your forehead with the back of his knuckles. “We’ve known each other forever. You just… hit your head pretty hard.”
You believe him. You have no reason not to. Your entire life before this moment is just static.
He signs the discharge papers. He drives you home, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on your thigh like it belongs there. You let it.
He doesn’t take you to your apartment in Gangnam with the reinforced locks and the hidden safe full of burner phones and knives.
He takes you to his penthouse in Hannam-dong. The one with the biometric locks and the soundproof walls and the walk-in closet full of suits that cost more than most people’s yearly salary.
“It’ll be easier for me to take care of you here,” he says, and you nod like that’s perfectly logical.
The first night, you stand in the middle of his massive living room, barefoot on heated marble, wearing one of his shirts because all your clothes mysteriously “didn’t survive the accident.”
“I don’t remember you,” you say quietly, “but… I get the feeling we used to be close?”
Seokjin turns from the kitchen island where he’s pouring you tea (chamomile, two sugars, just how you apparently like it) and smiles like a cat who’s been handed the keys to the creamery.
“Oh, absolutely,” he says, voice honey-smooth. “Closer than close.”
You miss the way his fingers tighten around the mug. You miss the way his eyes linger on the pulse in your throat like he’s counting down.
He was supposed to finish it that night.
You were unconscious, defenseless, legally dead for forty-three seconds before they brought you back. All he had to do was adjust the drip, sign a few forms, walk away. Clean. Professional. The way you once promised you’d do to him if you ever got the chance.
But he didn’t.
Six months later and you’re still breathing.
Six months later and you’re padding around his apartment in his cashmere sweaters and his socks, leaving your coffee mugs on his pristine countertops, falling asleep on his chest during movie nights like you belong there.
Six months later and he still hasn’t killed you.
He tells himself it’s strategy. That he’s keeping his enemy close. That he’s waiting for you to remember so he can watch the realization hit your face right before he finally ends it.
But then why does he make you seaweed soup when you’re sick? Why does he let you steal the left side of the bed even though he’s always preferred it? Why does he stand in the dark kitchen at 3:17 a.m. with a knife in his hand, staring at you asleep on the couch, chest rising and falling, and feel something vicious and tender clawing at his ribs?
You murmur his name in your sleep one night. Soft, trusting, devastating.
“Jin…”
He puts the knife down.
He doesn’t pick it up again.
Some nights he watches you laugh at his stupid jokes and thinks: maybe this is the real revenge.
Making you love the person you swore to destroy.
Making himself love you back.
And never, ever letting you remember why you shouldn’t.
Genre: slow burn, angst, best friends to lovers, found family, emotional hurt/comfort, trauma recovery, idolverse
Status: ongoing
Synopsis: you’ve been best friends since 2012. he was a broke trainee with the weight of six boys on his shoulders. you were a computer science major hiding broken pieces in your sleeves. he never confessed. not when you cried over men who didn’t deserve you. not when he wrote songs about you. he said you didn’t need another man taking from you. so he stayed. quietly. as your best friend. for 13 years. you still have no idea. no idea how much he’s loved you and maybe love doesn’t need to be loud to last but maybe… just maybe… it deserves to be heard.
⚠️ Trigger Warnings: This work contains themes of sexual assault and rape, specifically incest in the protagonist’s backstory. References may occur throughout the story. All such scenes will be preceded by specific chapter warnings but maybe graphic.
2012
You’re smiling.
It’s small, one of those rare, almost shy smiles that tugs at the corners of your lips but it’s real. And it feels strange on your face, like wearing lipstick after months of bare lips. You haven’t smiled like this in weeks.
You clutch the folded paper in your hand like it’s a treasure, your assignment grade, scrawled in red ink at the top: A. The professor even wrote, “Excellent clarity of thought.”
That’s never happened before.
Not since you started juggling night shifts, working weekends at the grocery store, and picking up freelance translations just to keep up with tuition. Not since your mother’s job loss. Not since your sister started skipping meals so you could afford textbooks.
You push the thought aside.
Right now, the sunlight feels warm. It’s one of but days you have had in 2012, and ever since you turned nineteen, you’re still standing and for a fleeting moment, you feel light.
You pass through the courtyard. The university is buzzing with late-day energy. Students sprawled across benches, laughter echoing from the lawn, the scent of iced coffee and warm asphalt in the air. You let it wash over you like something sacred.
Maybe… maybe today will be good.
You hug your bag closer to your chest and head for the gate.
And that’s when the air shifts.
You feel it before you hear it. The pull of dread low in your belly like someone reached inside and flicked a switch. You know when that feeling comes. Your heart stutters.
“Noona.”
The voice slices clean through your daydream.
It’s smooth. Mocking. Familiar in the worst way.
Your body freezes mid-step. The smile vanishes. The world blurs at the edges. It was such a good day until you heard the voice.
Kim Seokjin wasn’t expecting to witness anything life-altering that afternoon.
He was just passing through campus after his music theory class, sipping an overly sweet iced americano and mentally rehearsing lines for tonight’s training session. His back ached from the extra dance reps, and he was already planning to crash early, not that the others would let him.
But then he saw you.
A girl. Alone. At first, it didn’t mean anything, you were just another student, exiting the main Computer Science building, something soft in your expression like you were thinking of something good.
But then a boy called out, too loud, too casual, too close.
“Noona.”
It wasn’t the word that caught Jin’s attention. It was the tone. And was the way he looked at you like a predator just found his prey and he wants to play with it before he eats it.
Jin stopped walking.
Something in the way the girl froze made his stomach twist. Your body stiffened like you were expecting a blow. And the guy who looked your age emerged from the shadows of an alley, swagger in his step, something cruel in his smile.
Jin didn’t move. Not yet. He just watched.
You turn. Slowly.
There he is.
Your brother.
Thinner than last time. More angular. Same uneven hair. Same mismatched eyes one dark, one pale staring at you with that goddamn grin.
You hate that these eyes still appear in your nightmares, that you still wake up during the middle of night, shaking terribly. You hate that your body still reacts like you’re trapped in a memory. You hate that just seeing him makes your throat close. You hate that he’s younger than you, always has been and yet he made you feel small enough to disappear.
“You’re looking healthy,” he says, stepping forward. “Must be all that good food you’re buying with Mom’s money. Or is that coming from your little side gigs now?”
You step back. He’s closer now. His voice is sticky. His words slide down your spine like oil. He corners you into the alleyway as you keep stepping barely being able to breathe.
“Noona, I’m struggling. Things are rough. Just a little cash, yeah? You know how it is. I mean, after all the things we’ve shared… wouldn’t want to forget where you came from, right?”
Your knees go weak. he pushes a strand of hair out of your face and you jerk, not like a little flinch but an actually jerk.
“Don’t,” you whisper. “Just go.”
He laughs.
“Still dramatic. You’re so sensitive. It’s cute.”
“You gonna pretend again? That I didn’t touch you like no one else ever has?”
You don’t realize your hands are shaking until your nails bite into your palm. Your eyes are watery and even breathing in this man's proximity like a torture, like you didn't spend the last 6 years trying to bury those memories in the deepest corners of your mind, like it is gonna happen all over again.
But then, everything changes.
A voice cuts through the alley.
“Is everything okay here?”
You look at your side to see a boy, he looks your age in the campus jacket, he has a face that basically screams he is a art major. You don't recognize him, not really.
He didn’t plan to get involved.
But the moment the guy stepped too close, the moment Jin saw your shoulders flinch, he moved.
Fast.
He crossed the few steps between them, placing himself between you and the stranger without hesitation. Coffee abandoned. Calm exterior intact. But his eyes were steel.
“She looks uncomfortable,” he said flatly. “Back off.”
The younger man snorted.
“You her friend or something?”
“This is family business, hyung. Real close family. You wouldn’t understand. We’ve shared a lot, beds, too.”
Jin’s fists curled.
But his voice stayed level.
“Are you from this campus?”
The kid blinked. “What?”
“You don’t look like a student. And if I see you here again, I’ll make sure campus security hears everything.”
The guy tried to shove past but Jin’s hand gripped his wrist tightly. Firm. Enough to warn.
“I said. Back. Off.”
There was a flicker of panic in those strange-colored eyes now.
The boy yanked away and scoffed.
“Tch. Whatever. You two deserve each other. Filthy.”
And then he walked off.
You should’ve run earlier. You should’ve screamed. You should’ve fought. But now… now everything is too much.
You’re still frozen.
You feel the warmth of someone standing between you and the danger. Someone who didn’t ask for the full story. Someone who didn’t need it to act.
You look up, meet his eyes.
His face is soft. Kind. His brows furrowed just enough to say I saw that. I saw you.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently.
You can’t speak. Your breath is hitching. The panic is back.
So you do the only thing you know how to do.
You run.
You don’t see him reach after you. Don’t see the worry flicker deeper in his face. You just run and run until your knees give way in a university bathroom stall and you break all over again.
And you never learn his name.
Not that day.
But years later, the world will know him as Jin global idol, beloved star.
And you’ll know him as the boy who once stood in an alleyway and became your first safe place.
You wake up with the bitter aftertaste of alcohol clinging to your tongue like betrayal. It’s stale and sour, like someone poured cheap soju into your mouth while you were sleeping, then slapped you awake with sunlight for fun.
Your eyes crack open, only to be immediately assaulted by too much daylight stabbing through the half-closed curtains. You squint at the ceiling like it personally offended you.
Inside your skull, someone has apparently started a rave. A very loud, very illegal rave. Your temples throb to the rhythm of whatever bass-heavy regret you guzzled down last night.
Hangovers aren’t cute in your thirties.
They were barely manageable in your twenties. But now? Now, they feel like a midlife crisis in liquid form. You groan, throw an arm dramatically over your face, and contemplate never drinking again.... or at least not until your next bad day.
You kick off the twisted blanket with the grace of a dying sea lion and stretch like a lazy cat, joints cracking in protest. Then you lie there for another thirty seconds, staring at the cracked paint on your ceiling and mentally drafting a breakup letter to tequila.
Eventually, against your better judgment, you sit up.
Your hair is a disaster, a knotted halo of chaos framing your face and your jeans are still on from last night, biting into your waist like they have a personal vendetta. Your room’s a mess too, but it always is, so it doesn't even register anymore. This is your natural habitat: a small kingdom of controlled chaos, with a glittery palette and an iced coffee graveyard on the nightstand.
You yawn like a hippo, loud, wide, completely ungraceful.
Then you see it.
A crumpled makeup wipe on your side table.
Instinctively, you touch your face. It's clean. Fresh. Skin soft. Moisturized. Not a trace of last night's eyeliner or lipstick. Even your lashes are gone, the falsies removed with surgical precision.
Of course.
You don’t have to guess who did it.
He always does it. Every single time.
The one who never lets himself get drunk when you go out. Who somehow wrangles your flailing limbs into Ubers, guides you up stairwells like a patient nurse, and decides whether to take you to your place or his depending on who’s closer. The one who lifts your head to remove your earrings carefully, even though you don’t wear real ones anymore. The one who never forgets to do your nighttime routine when you’re too far gone to do anything but drool into your pillow.
Jin.
You sigh, half in fondness, half in shame.
Then peel off your too-tight jeans and toss them to the floor like they personally wronged you. You dig out your favorite pajama shorts from under a pile of unfolded laundry and throw on a big shirt that smells like your fabric softener and maybe also like him.
You shuffle out of your room, bare feet cold on the wood floor, and follow the smell of something savory wafting through the apartment.
Your sister’s already in the kitchen, typing aggressively on her laptop. She doesn’t even look up when you enter.
“You look like a raccoon that got run over,” she says flatly, sipping her coffee.
You groan in response and drag your body to the stool across from her.
“Jin had to practically carry you here last night,” she adds.
You grunt again, less ashamed and more resigned. “He probably did.”
She keeps typing. “He also came by this morning. Early. Like, weirdly early. Wanted to check on you. You were still passed out, snoring like a clogged drain, so he didn’t wake you.”
You glance toward the stove. There’s a pot sitting there, a little post-it note stuck to the lid.
Your head tilts.
“He left hangover soup,” your sister adds, voice dry. “Said he didn’t want you to die stupidly.”
You wander over, lift the lid, and are immediately greeted by the warm, earthy scent of miso and something gingery. Your stomach growls in betrayal, suddenly willing to forgive the entire night if soup is involved.
You spot the note and peel it off.
“Drink this or you'll die – J.”
You smile. Not that anyone can see it. But it’s there, a lazy curve at the corner of your mouth as you spoon some soup into a bowl and grab a clean spoon with the solemn reverence of someone who knows they don’t deserve this level of care but accepts it anyway.
You collapse onto the couch, bowl in your lap, remote in hand, hoodie sleeves falling over your knuckles. The soup is exactly the kind of warm that feels like a hug from the inside. It tastes like comfort. Like routine. Like him. Jin's cooking is the best. Ofcourse, you cant exactly say that your sister or mom cook bad with your own cooking skills of a newborn but jin's cooking is like a hot shower after a whole day of work.
Your phone buzzes.
Jin: you forgot to take off your lashes. again. I almost went blind trying to remove them.
You snort and type back with one hand.
tell my lashes I said thanks for their service. I’ll keep my eyes open next time. maybe.
Another message comes in instantly.
also folded your laundry. yes, the pile that was rotting in the basket for 3 days. don’t @ me.
You glance toward your bedroom.
… You did notice the laundry smelled nicer this morning.
You pause, staring at the screen, your spoon halfway to your mouth, then
clean freak.
He doesn’t reply.
Doesn’t need to.
Because that’s just Jin.
The one who removes your lashes and wipes your lipstick and folds your underwear and leaves soup on the stove without asking for anything in return.
And you?
You’re just the mess he keeps showing up for.
The one who snores and drools and forgets her skincare and still wakes up to find her world a little more intact than she left it the night before.
You sip the soup. Let it sit warm in your chest.
You’re thirty-two. Hungover. Still figuring life out.
But today?
Today, you’re fine.
Thanks to him.
You glance at your phone again and fire off a message between spoonfuls of soup:
“Well thanks for your service 😁 Why didn’t you take me to your place tho?”
He reads it instantly. No surprise there.
“Had someone over.”
Your fingers pause over the keyboard. And you grin
“A girl? 😏”
“The members.”
“Boring. 😒”
“Come over?”
You grin, soup forgotten.
“Pick me up. Your BFF doesn’t have a driver’s license, remember?”
He doesn’t answer right away this time. You can almost see him sighing from wherever he is, probably pulling on a hoodie, grabbing his keys, still deciding whether to give you grief or just show up like he always does.
Three dots bubble up. Then disappear. Then come back.
“You better be ready in fifteen or I’m honking until your neighbors call the cops.
You throw your phone down, slurp the rest of your soup like you’re being chased by time itself, and sprint back into your room.
Your reflection in the mirror looks like a gremlin. Your hair, short, jaw-length, and chaotic is somehow sticking in five different directions, and you’re not even going to try tying it. You never really learned how to do that properly anyway. Jin usually does it for you when it matters.
But this isn’t one of those times. This is a roll-out-in-pajama-shorts kind of day. Messy hair, bare face, slightly puffy eyes. Still in the same hoodie from last night, his, probably, because the sleeves are too long and the fabric smells like him.
You brush your teeth with one hand while hopping into your sneakers. Skip the makeup, skip the bra, skip decency.
You shout over your shoulder to your sister, “Going out. If I die, Jin probably did it.”
She doesn’t even flinch. Just shouts back, “Bring eggs if you’re passing by a store.”
And then you’re out the door, sliding into the August heat with a hoodie too warm for the weather and legs out for the world to see. Your shorts barely peek out under the hem, but you don’t care. Jin’s seen you worse. Jin’s held your hair while you puked out tequila and mango soju. Jin’s helped you shave your legs once because you nicked your skin too deep trying it yourself.
You don’t care.
You jog to the front gate, hoodie sleeves flapping, your phone buzzing in your hand.
A new message:
“I’m outside. Try not to fall into the car this time.”
You type back:
“No promises.”
And just like that, you’re out in the world again, messy, hungover, unbrushed hair swaying as you skip down the steps in mismatched socks, heading toward the one person who’s always had a seat for you, no matter the state you’re in.
You’re halfway down the apartment stairs when you remember you’re wearing socks but no shoes. You skid slightly on the last step, grab the railing like it personally betrayed you, and keep moving, hoodie sleeves flapping, phone stuffed in the front pocket like a kid on the run from her own decisions.
Jin’s probably already in the car, counting down the minutes before he starts honking like a psychopath.
You push open the front door of the building, practically jogging out-
-when you collide.
Soft, human. Not concrete.
“Oof-!”
The girl bounces back with a gasp. You stagger a step, hand immediately reaching out like a reflex.
“Oh my god, sorry-are you okay-?”
She blinks up at you with wide eyes, pink cheeks, and trembling hands clutching a folder to her chest.
“Oh my god... Unnie...?”
You blink.
She blinks.
Your brain halts.
She whispers, as if in awe, “I... I’m such a big fan of your content.”
Shit.
Shitshitshit.
“You-you’re so pretty in real life! And your reviews helped me with my acne so much. Like... I didn’t even think I’d ever feel confident, but you changed my life! Seriously! You made me feel like it was okay not to be perfect-like I didn’t have to be like those other influencers to be... you know... worthy.”
Her voice is breathy, shaking, sincere. Her eyes are full of gratitude and starry awe.
And you?
You glance down.
Pajama shorts that barely cover your ass- check. Hoodie that is definitely Jin’s and definitely at least two sizes too big-check. Messy hair that looks more like a tangled thicket of regret-check. No makeup. Bare feet in fuzzy socks with cartoon eggs on them.
"Ohhhhhh... shit."
You press your lips into a tight smile, cheeks already heating. “Aha… wow, thank you. That means a lot, really. I just… uh…”
You gesture vaguely at yourself. “Don’t usually look like I got hit by a laundry basket. Today’s special.”
She giggles.
You internally scream.
“No, you still look really pretty. Like, really! You’re so real. That’s why I love you.”
You try not to die right there.
Instead, you do the only thing you know how to do when someone throws sincerity in your face like confetti:
You grin, pull her into a one-armed hug, careful not to crush her folder and say, “Thank you for watching my weird little corner of the internet. You made my whole week.”
She makes a squeaky noise that might be joy or a cardiac event, and waves like she’ll pass out if she doesn’t walk away.
You wait till she’s fully gone.
Then you exhale like a dying animal and mutter to yourself, “Note to self: wear pants next time. Or at least brush your damn hair.”
And right on cue, a black car pulls up.
Jin’s behind the wheel, sunglasses on, jaw resting on his hand as he watches you shuffle over in your socked feet.
As you open the door and slide in, he glances at you once.
“Did you just hug a fan looking like that?”
You close the door and groan into your hands.
“Drive. Before I combust from secondhand embarrassment.”
He snorts and pulls away.
“You’re lucky your clumsiness reads as charm.”
“I’m lucky you keep showing up to pick me up from my own disasters.”
He doesn't say anything.
But you notice the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
He risks a glance at you when the car hits a red light.
And instantly regrets it.
You’re curled into his passenger seat like you own i, like you belong there, in that ridiculous oversized hoodie and pajama shorts, bare legs folded under you, socks misaligned, hair a halo of bedhead chaos. There’s a faint smudge of last night’s lipstick near the corner of your mouth, and your fingers are plucking at the frayed sleeve like it’s keeping you tethered to earth.
And god, you look cute.
So cute it’s ridiculous.
So cute it’s painful.
So cute he has to physically tear his gaze away and grip the steering wheel just a little tighter, because the flutter in his chest isn’t something he can afford to listen to. Not now. Not ever.
The light turns green, and he drives the rest of the way with his jaw clenched and heart inconveniently full.
At his place, you drop your bag the second you step in and head straight for his couch, kicking your socks off like a heathen, hoodie sleeves dragging over your knuckles.
He watches as you grab a throw blanket without asking, flop down backward, and close your eyes with a loud sigh like this is your second home.
It kind of is.
Jin grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and tosses it to you.
You groan when it hits your stomach, then crack one eye open and give him a lazy thumbs-up.
“Hydrate or die,” he says without looking at you, already moving toward the side drawer near his bookshelf.
He knows what’s coming next. It's been happening since you were nineteen.
He opens the drawer and pulls out a spare hairbrush. The same one he’s kept for thirteen years now. The bristles are bent in places, worn from use, but always clean.
Because a fully grown thirty-two-year-old woman still doesn’t know how to tie her hair properly.
But he’s never judged.
Not once.
Because how could he?
It’s not your fault.
It’s not your fault that your body developed executive dysfunction, that simple, daily tasks feel like climbing a mountain with no summit. It’s not your fault that your brain freezes over something as small as brushing your hair or boiling water. That your limbs go still when they’re supposed to move. That you hesitate over things others never have to think about.
It’s not your fault your world cracked open at fourteen,
That your own brother did the unspeakable.
That your childhood ended not with a gradual shift, but with pain that fractured your sense of self.
Jin knows this. All of it.
He’s the only one who ever did.
He knows how people mocked you. How they called you useless when you fumbled with simple tasks. How they looked at you like you were lazy, broken, unworthy.
But they didn’t know the why.
Didn’t know how much courage it takes just to exist.
Didn’t know that some days, just getting out of bed was an act of rebellion against every lie your trauma tried to tell you.
So no, he doesn’t judge.
He can’t.
Even if he wanted to, even if a part of him ever tried to slip into that cold place where other people go when they don’t understand, he’d fail. Utterly.
Because you are not some puzzle to fix.
You are not a burden to carry.
You’re someone who’s been through hell, and somehow, somehow... still manage to show up to the world with glitter under your nails and that wide, infuriating smile that makes people forget just how much you’ve survived.
So he brushes your hair.
Carefully. Silently. Lovingly.
Because you shouldn’t have to apologize for the things you never deserved in the first place.
And if he has to be your hands when yours can’t function, he will.
Always.
He kneels behind the couch where your head is propped up, and gently tugs the hair tie off your wrist.
Your hair’s longer again. Grown out past your jaw. Soft and stubborn and full of tangles that most people wouldn’t even notice.
But he does.
He always does.
He brushes through slowly, carefully. No tugging. No yanking. Just patience.
There’s no surprise left anymore when you relax under his touch, letting him tilt your head or lift a section of hair without protest. Sometimes you hum. Sometimes you fall asleep mid-way through. Today, you're still trusting.
He parts your hair and starts tying it back. A half-up pony. Sleek, but not too tight. Something to keep it out of your face when you inevitably fall asleep again on his couch.
He can do braids. Buns. Twists. French, Dutch, messy, formal. He’s done every style possible.
He could probably do it blindfolded.
Because for thirteen years, he’s became something you never had the luxury to learn.
And even now, with his fingers moving through your hair and your eyes fluttering closed beneath his touch, even now, he doesn’t let himself think about how deeply, painfully in love he is with you.
He just ties the knot, gently pats your head, and says:
“There. Presentable. Ish.”
You mumble, barely awake. “Love that for me.”
He goes to wash his hands.
You fall asleep ten seconds later, curled on his couch in his hoodie, in the home that’s never had to be spoken about to be understood.
When he comes out of the bathroom, hands damp and clean, the living room is quiet again.
You're asleep.
Of course you are.
Curled up sideways on his couch like a child in a nest of fabric, hoodie bunched under your cheek, one leg halfway off the cushion, your mouth slightly parted as a string of drool begins its slow descent toward his upholstery.
And Jin…
Jin just smiles.
This house, the one he bought with years of sleepless nights and aching limbs, with chart-topping albums and sold-out arenas, with every version of himself that bled under stage lights, this house is everything he was supposed to want.
Big windows. Clean walls. Silent rooms.
But without you?
It’s nothing.
Without you, it's too tidy. Too quiet. Too polished. The kind of quiet that scrapes at his skull and leaves the hum of his thoughts echoing.
There’s a bed here, king-sized, memory foam, tailored sheets — and yet he still prefers to collapse on your floor some nights. Your room, where the paint on the ceiling still flakes off like old snow, where you never fixed the crack because, as you once told him:
“It’s not bothering anyone, and that includes me.”
You’d said it with a shrug, a smear of eyeliner across one eyelid, and no pants on.
He never said it aloud, but he liked that about you.
The way you let things stay broken if they didn’t hurt you. The way your home was full of unfinished things, shelves missing screws, mugs without handles, light switches that flickered like haunted house props and yet somehow, you made the space feel complete.
He steps closer to the couch now, crouching down until he's level with your face.
There, near the corner of your lip, is a faint smear of lipstick he somehow missed last night. Even after the toner and the cotton pads and the careful touch of his hands, it lingered. A small, stubborn stain.
He reaches forward, thumb brushing gently across your skin, wiping it clean.
And as he pulls his hand away, he catches sight of the drool now dripping with absolute commitment onto the pillow.
He huffs a laugh through his nose.
“Disgusting,” he whispers softly. “Absolutely revolting.”
But he kneels there anyway.
Like a fool in front of a shrine.
Because this, the unfiltered, drooling, hoodie-draped version of you is the one he gets. The one he wants. The one who calls him at 2AM because you forgot how to set a reminder, who hoards expired sheet masks in your drawer, who forgets to buy razors but always remembers to ask about his setlist.
You breathe slowly. Calm. Safe.
And he thinks, not for the first time, that he would give up every polished surface, every pristine corner of this house, just to sit in your broken one.
You shift slightly, muttering something incoherent under your breath, and your fingers twitch where they’re tangled in the edge of his blanket.
He gently tucks it back over your legs.
And stays there, crouched beside you, for just a moment longer.
Just long enough to remember what it feels like to be needed, even if you’ll never say it aloud.
His eyes linger.
They travel from your face, relaxed now in sleep, all the tension drained to your ear. The right one.
That’s when he sees it again. The scar.
It stretches from the soft part where a piercing hole should’ve been, dragging all the way down to the edge of your earlobe faint, but not forgotten. Not to him. Never to him.
He knows the story.
Knows it even though he wishes he didn’t.
Knows it because he’s the only one you ever trusted with it.
You used to wear earrings in middle school. You loved them. He’s seen old pictures, your eyes lit up around glitter. Studs, hoops, colors that didn’t match your outfit, but matched your mood.
But then he happened.
And now, instead of tiny hoops or little gold stars, there’s a scar.
The scar you face every day in the mirror.
The scar you never talk about.
He remembers your birthday, you’d been twenty-eight, when he gave you a small velvet box with clasp earrings. Clip-ons, delicate and simple. Nothing fancy, but he’d searched for hours for the right ones.
You had stared at them like they were magic.
Eyes wide. Smile trembling.
He saw it, how you were excited and heartbroken at the same time.
You’d worn them all day.
Still do, sometimes.
Never said much about them, but he knows. He watches how your fingers touch your ears when you wear them. Not in vanity, in remembrance.
And now, here you are, fast asleep, breathing soft, hoodie swallowing half your face and all he can see is the mark left behind.
The evidence of pain you didn’t deserve.
The punishment from a monster who should’ve never had access to you.
The silence you lived through when no one else knew.
He clenches his jaw. Gently curls his fingers into a fist.
Because just imagining what that bastard may have done to you those nights, the things you still can’t talk about, makes Jin’s skin crawl. Makes the air in his lungs feel poisoned. Makes the warmth in this house feel like a lie.
But then he looks at you again.
Drooling. Snoring, just a bit.
Your lashes resting gently against your cheek.
Breathing, living, surviving.
And Jin feels something else rise up instead.
Pride.
Quiet and sharp and full-bodied.
Not for anything dramatic. Not for success or makeup channel.
But for this:
For waking up every day with that scar on your ear and still putting earrings on anyway.
For sleeping on his couch like it’s yours.
For trusting him with the version of you that no one else gets.
“I’m proud of you,” he whispers under his breath, not daring to say it any louder.
Author: bratzkoo | navi
Pairing: married! seokjin x f! reader
Word Count: 9K
Genre: fluff, more fluff
Rating: PG-13
Possible Warnings/Note: Inspired by Ariana Grande's song "pov"
Summary: reminiscing your 20 year marriage with seokjin.
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @aretha170 , @jinniegenie , @mooniyooni .@we8joon , @njrwifey
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
The warm afternoon sun filtered through the gossamer curtains, casting a soft glow across the living room. You sat comfortably on the plush sofa, your fingers absently tracing the intricate patterns on the throw pillow beside you. Across from you, perched on the edge of an armchair with a determined look on her face, was your daughter, Minjee. At sixteen, she was the spitting image of you at that age, but with unmistakable traces of her father in the curve of her smile and the twinkle in her eyes.
"Okay, Mom," Minjee said, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she fiddled with her tablet. "I'm ready to start the interview for my project. Are you sure you're okay with me recording this?"
You couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Of course, sweetheart. I'm happy to help with your assignment. What's the topic again?"
Minjee's face lit up. "It's about long-lasting marriages and the secrets to their success. I thought, who better to interview than you and Dad? Twenty years is a pretty big deal!"
A warm feeling spread through your chest as you thought about your husband, Kim Seokjin. Twenty years of marriage, and he was still the best person in your world. "Well, I'm flattered you chose us. Where should we begin?"
Minjee tapped her stylus against her chin thoughtfully. "How about we start at the beginning? What was your first anniversary like?"
As you began to speak, the room around you seemed to fade, replaced by vivid memories of a time that felt both distant and as clear as yesterday...
-
*19 years ago*
The restaurant was dimly lit, casting a romantic glow over the intimate table for two. Candles flickered between you and Seokjin, their dance reflecting in his warm brown eyes as he smiled at you from across the table. One year of marriage, and still, every time he looked at you like that, your heart skipped a beat.
"Happy anniversary, my love," Seokjin said, raising his glass of champagne. The bubbles caught the light, creating tiny fireworks in the flute. "To many more years of happiness together."
You clinked your glass against his, the crystal singing a clear note. "To us," you echoed, taking a sip of the crisp, effervescent drink.
As you set your glass down, a waiter approached with a covered silver platter. With a flourish, he lifted the dome, revealing an artfully arranged plate of what appeared to be some kind of nut-crusted fish.
Your eyes widened slightly, a small frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. Before you could say anything, Seokjin was already addressing the waiter.
"I'm sorry, but there seems to be a mistake," he said politely but firmly. "My wife has a severe nut allergy. We specifically requested no nuts in any of our dishes."
The waiter's face fell, a look of mortification replacing his earlier pride. "I am so sorry, sir, madam. This is completely unacceptable. I'll have the kitchen prepare a new dish immediately."
As the waiter hurried away with the offending plate, you reached across the table to squeeze Seokjin's hand. "Thank you," you said softly. "I can't believe you remembered about my allergy."
Seokjin's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Of course I remembered. It's important – it's part of who you are." His expression softened into a tender smile. "Besides, how could I forget the time you almost died at that company picnic because someone forgot to mention there were walnuts in the brownies?"
You laughed, the tension from the near miss with the nutty dish dissipating. "Oh god, don't remind me. I thought I was going to have to use my EpiPen on our third date!"
"Well, it certainly made for a memorable evening," Seokjin chuckled. "I knew then that life with you would never be boring."
As you waited for your replacement meals, the two of you fell into easy conversation, reminiscing about the past year of marriage and all the little moments that had brought you closer together.
When the food finally arrived – a beautifully prepared, nut-free sea bass for you and a succulent steak for Seokjin – you both dug in with gusto. The flavors were exquisite, but what made the meal truly special was the company.
Between bites, Seokjin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped package. "I have something for you," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he slid the gift across the table.
Your eyes lit up with curiosity as you carefully unwrapped the present. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, adorned with tiny charms. As you examined it more closely, you gasped in delight.
"Jin, this is beautiful! But... wait, is that...?" You peered at one of the charms, a miniature paintbrush.
Seokjin nodded, his eyes twinkling. "I know you've been talking about wanting to take up painting again. I thought this might be a little reminder to pursue that passion."
You continued to examine the charms, each one representing a different aspect of your life or personality. There was a tiny book for your love of reading, a musical note for the songs you liked to hum while cooking, and even a little cat charm that looked suspiciously like the stray you'd been feeding in secret.
"How did you know about the cat?" you asked, looking up at him in amazement.
Seokjin's laugh was warm and full of affection. "You mean the one you think I don't know about? The one you've been leaving food out for every night? I've seen you, love. I think it's adorable."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "I was going to tell you... I just didn't want you to think I was trying to adopt another pet so soon after Mochi passed away."
"Hey," Seokjin said softly, reaching out to take your hand. "I know how much you loved Mochi. And I know that caring for that stray doesn't mean you're trying to replace him. It just means you have a big heart. It's one of the things I love most about you."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. "Jin, I don't know what to say. This bracelet, the way you notice everything... I feel so seen, so understood."
"That's my job," he said with a wink. "To know you better than anyone else in the world. Speaking of which..." He signaled to the waiter, who promptly appeared with two dessert menus.
You shook your head, laughing. "Let me guess – no chocolate ice cream for me?"
Seokjin's eyes widened in mock horror. "I wouldn't dream of it! I still remember the look on your face when I suggested we get chocolate ice cream on our second date. I thought you were going to break up with me on the spot!"
"It was a close call," you teased. "But you redeemed yourself with that strawberry sorbet."
As you perused the dessert options, settling on a shared plate of tiramisu, you marveled at how well Seokjin knew you. It wasn't just the big things, like your allergies or your aversion to chocolate ice cream. It was the little details – the way he'd order your coffee just the way you liked it without asking, or how he'd instinctively know when you needed a quiet night in versus a night out with friends.
When the tiramisu arrived, artfully presented with two spoons, Seokjin raised his dessert spoon in a playful toast. "To knowing each other better with each passing day," he said.
You clinked your spoon against his, your heart full of love and gratitude. "To a lifetime of learning and growing together," you added.
As you savored the rich, coffee-infused dessert, you reflected on the past year of marriage. It hadn't all been smooth sailing – there had been arguments, misunderstandings, and moments of frustration. But underlying it all was a deep sense of partnership, of being truly known and accepted for who you were.
Later that night, as you lay in bed with Seokjin's arms wrapped around you, you whispered into the darkness, "Thank you for today. For everything."
You felt his lips press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you for marrying me," he murmured back. "For choosing to build a life with me. I can't wait to see what the next year brings."
As you drifted off to sleep, the weight of the bracelet on your wrist was a comforting reminder of the man beside you – the man who knew you better than anyone else in the world, and loved you all the more for it.
-
*17 years ago*
The hospital room was a flurry of activity. Monitors beeped steadily, nurses bustled in and out, and your breaths came in short, panting gasps as another contraction gripped your body. Fifteen hours of labor had left you exhausted, your hair plastered to your forehead with sweat, but there was no giving up now.
Through it all, Seokjin was a constant presence at your side. His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled, his hair sticking up at odd angles from running his hands through it nervously. But his eyes never left your face, and his hand remained firmly clasped in yours.
"You're doing great, love," he murmured, using his free hand to gently wipe your brow with a cool cloth. "Just a little longer."
You managed a weak smile between contractions. "Easy for you to say," you panted. "You look like you're about to pass out."
It was true – despite his attempts to appear calm and collected, Seokjin's face was pale, and there was a sheen of sweat on his upper lip that had nothing to do with the warmth of the room.
He let out a shaky laugh. "Me? Never. I'm cool as a cucumber. Cool as a... as a... oh god, is that more blood?"
The nurse checking your vitals shot him an amused look. "Maybe you should sit down for a minute, Mr. Kim. We don't want you fainting on us."
Seokjin shook his head stubbornly. "No, I'm fine. I promised I'd be here for every moment, and I meant it." He squeezed your hand tighter, as if to reassure himself as much as you.
Just then, another contraction hit, stronger than the ones before. You cried out, gripping Seokjin's hand so tightly your knuckles turned white.
"Okay, Mrs. Kim," the doctor said, taking her position. "I think we're ready to push. On the next contraction, I want you to give it everything you've got."
The next few minutes were a blur of pain, effort, and encouragement from both the medical staff and Seokjin. Despite his own nervousness, his voice remained steady, coaching you through each push.
"You can do this," he said, his face close to yours. "You're the strongest person I know. Our baby is almost here."
With one final, monumental effort, you pushed with all your might. There was a moment of intense pressure, and then... a cry. A beautiful, piercing wail that filled the room.
"It's a girl!" the doctor announced, holding up a squirming, red-faced bundle.
You collapsed back against the pillows, tears of joy and relief streaming down your face. Seokjin was openly weeping, his eyes fixed on the tiny life that the nurses were quickly cleaning and wrapping in a soft blanket.
"Do you want to cut the cord, Dad?" the nurse asked, offering Seokjin a pair of scissors.
He nodded, unable to speak. With shaking hands, he cut the umbilical cord, officially separating your daughter from you for the first time.
Moments later, the nurse placed the swaddled infant in your arms. You gazed down at her in wonder, taking in her scrunched-up face, the downy hair on her head, the tiny fists waving in the air.
"Hello, little one," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "We've been waiting so long to meet you."
Seokjin perched on the edge of the bed, one arm around you, the other hand gently stroking the baby's cheek. "She's perfect," he said in awe. "Absolutely perfect."
As you both marveled at your newborn daughter, a name that you had discussed months ago suddenly felt right. "Minjee," you said softly. "Her name is Minjee."
Seokjin nodded, tears still glistening in his eyes. "Minjee. Our brilliant jewel."
The next few hours passed in a blur of tests, checks, and a steady stream of nurses and doctors coming to ensure both you and baby Minjee were doing well. Through it all, Seokjin remained by your side, alternating between gazing adoringly at his new daughter and fussing over your comfort.
It wasn't until late in the evening, when things had finally calmed down, that Seokjin suddenly sat up straight, his eyes wide. "Oh! I almost forgot!"
You looked at him quizzically as he scrambled for his phone. "Forgot what?"
"Your post-birth meal!" he exclaimed, already dialing a number. "I promised you anything you wanted after the baby was born, remember?"
You chuckled softly, careful not to disturb the sleeping Minjee in your arms. "Jin, you don't have to-"
But he was already speaking rapidly into the phone, placing an order that made your mouth water just hearing it. When he hung up, he had a triumphant grin on his face.
"Sushi, steak, and fries," he announced proudly. "All your pregnancy cravings in one meal. They'll be here in about an hour."
You shook your head in amazement. "I can't believe you remembered all that. I'm pretty sure I mentioned the sushi craving once, months ago."
Seokjin's expression softened as he looked at you and Minjee. "I remember everything you tell me," he said simply. "Especially when it comes to making you happy."
As promised, an hour later, a veritable feast arrived at your hospital room. The nurses raised their eyebrows at the spread but said nothing as Seokjin carefully arranged the food on the rolling tray table.
You inhaled deeply, savoring the mix of aromas. "This smells amazing," you said, realizing just how hungry you were after the ordeal of childbirth.
Seokjin beamed as he helped you sit up more comfortably, adjusting your pillows and making sure Minjee was secure in her bassinet next to the bed. "Eat as much as you want," he encouraged. "You've more than earned it."
As you tucked into the eclectic mix of foods, savoring flavors you'd been denied for months, you couldn't help but marvel at the man sitting beside you. Even after fifteen grueling hours of labor, even in the face of his own nerves and exhaustion, he was still thinking of ways to care for you.
"Jin," you said between bites of perfectly seared steak, "thank you. For everything. For being here, for staying calm-"
He snorted. "I wasn't that calm."
You smiled. "You were calmer than you think. And this-" you gestured at the food, "this is above and beyond."
Seokjin reached out to take your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "You grew and delivered our child," he said softly. "You're a superhero as far as I'm concerned. The least I can do is make sure you're well-fed and comfortable."
Just then, Minjee began to stir in her bassinet, little whimpers quickly turning into full-fledged cries. Without hesitation, Seokjin stood up.
"I've got her," he said, carefully lifting the tiny bundle into his arms. He cradled her against his chest, swaying gently and humming a soft lullaby.
As you watched your husband comfort your newborn daughter, you felt a surge of love so powerful it brought tears to your eyes. This was your family – the life you and Seokjin had created together.
"I love you," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "Both of you, so much."
Seokjin looked up from Minjee, his eyes shining. "We love you too," he said softly. "More than words can express."
As you finished your meal and settled in for the night, you couldn't help but feel that your little family was complete. Little did you know, the adventures were just beginning.
-
*13 years ago*
The sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains as you sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee cooling in front of you. Your fingers drummed nervously on the smooth wood surface as you waited for Seokjin to join you. Today was the day you'd finally voice the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind for months.
Seokjin entered the kitchen, his hair slightly mussed from sleep but his eyes alert. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from you, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in your tense posture.
"What's on your mind, love?" he asked gently. "You've been quiet all week."
You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "Jin, I... I've been thinking about making a change. A big one."
He reached across the table to take your hand, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your skin. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. We're in this together, remember?"
His words gave you the strength to continue. "I want to resign from my job," you said in a rush. "I want to focus on homeschooling Minjee and... and become a stay-at-home mom."
You held your breath, waiting for his reaction. Your career had always been important to you, and you knew Seokjin respected your dedication to your work. Would he think you were throwing it all away?
To your surprise, Seokjin's face broke into a warm smile. "Is that all? Here I was worried you were going to tell me you wanted to move to Antarctica or something."
You let out a surprised laugh, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders. "You're... you're okay with this?"
Seokjin squeezed your hand. "Of course I am. If this is what you want, what you feel is best for you and for Minjee, then I support you completely. But can I ask what brought this on?"
You sighed, gathering your thoughts. "It's been building for a while now. I love my job, you know I do, but lately... I feel like I'm missing so much with Minjee. She's growing so fast, and I don't want to look back and regret not being there for these important years."
Seokjin nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. And homeschooling? That's a big commitment."
"I know," you said, your voice gaining confidence as you spoke. "But I've been researching it, and I really think it could be amazing for her. We could tailor her education to her interests, give her one-on-one attention... And honestly, I'm excited about the challenge."
"Well," Seokjin said, a twinkle in his eye, "if anyone can pull off being a full-time mom, teacher, and still manage to keep me in line, it's you."
You laughed, feeling a weight lift off your chest. "So you really think we can make this work? Financially, I mean?"
Seokjin's expression turned serious. "We'll make it work. My job as head finance manager is stable, and we've always been good at budgeting. It might mean some adjustments, but nothing we can't handle together."
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by his unwavering support. "Thank you," you whispered. "For understanding, for supporting me... for everything."
He stood up and came around the table, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Hey, that's what partners are for. We're a team, remember? Your dreams are my dreams."
As you melted into his embrace, you heard the patter of little feet coming down the hallway. Moments later, a sleepy-eyed Minjee appeared in the doorway, her favorite stuffed rabbit dragging behind her.
"Mommy? Daddy? Why are you hugging? Is it a special day?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
Seokjin scooped her up, peppering her face with kisses until she giggled. "Every day with you two is a special day," he declared. "But yes, we might have some exciting changes coming up. How would you like to have Mommy teach you at home?"
Minjee's eyes widened. "Really? We can do school at home? Can we have recess in the backyard?"
You laughed, reaching out to smooth her tousled hair. "We can definitely have recess in the backyard. And maybe Daddy can be the gym teacher when he gets home from work."
Seokjin puffed out his chest dramatically. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent gym teacher. We'll start with the fine art of dad jokes and work our way up to actual exercise."
As Minjee dissolved into giggles and Seokjin began to demonstrate his 'dad joke workout routine', you felt a sense of peace settle over you. This was the right decision, you were sure of it now.
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity. You submitted your resignation at work, feeling a mix of nostalgia and excitement as you said goodbye to colleagues and cleared out your desk. Seokjin was by your side every step of the way, helping you research homeschooling curricula and transforming the spare room into a bright, cheerful classroom for Minjee.
On your last day of work, you came home to find the dining room table set with your favorite meal, a bouquet of flowers in the center, and a banner hanging across the archway that read "Congratulations on Your New Adventure!"
"What's all this?" you asked, feeling tears spring to your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that week.
Seokjin emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron and balancing a tray of appetizers. "This is your graduation party," he announced proudly. "You're graduating from one amazing career to another, and that deserves a celebration."
Minjee ran up to you, brandishing a handmade card covered in glitter and stickers. "I made this for you, Mommy! It says 'World's Best Teacher' because you're going to be my teacher now!"
You knelt down to hug her tightly, careful not to smudge the glittery masterpiece. "Thank you, sweetheart. I promise to do my very best."
As you sat down to the feast Seokjin had prepared, you couldn't help but marvel at how lucky you were. Many people might have balked at such a drastic life change, but Seokjin had embraced it wholeheartedly.
"I propose a toast," Seokjin said, raising his glass. "To new beginnings, to following your heart, and to the best teacher-mom in the world."
You clinked your glass against his and Minjee's cup of juice, feeling a surge of love for your little family. "And to the best support system a person could ask for," you added.
As the evening wore on, filled with laughter, good food, and excited planning for the future, you found yourself watching Seokjin. Even after a long day at work, he was fully present, helping Minjee clean up her craft supplies and insisting on doing the dishes despite your protests.
Later that night, as you were getting ready for bed, you caught Seokjin's eye in the bathroom mirror. "You know," you said softly, "I couldn't do this without you. Your support means everything to me."
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "You could do anything you set your mind to," he said firmly. "But I'm honored to be by your side for all of it. We're partners in this life, remember? Your dreams are my dreams."
As you leaned back into his embrace, you felt a sense of excitement for the future. There would be challenges ahead, you knew that. Homeschooling wouldn't always be easy, and adjusting to life as a stay-at-home mom would take time. But with Seokjin by your side, you felt ready to face anything.
"Partners," you echoed, turning in his arms to face him. "Always and forever."
He leaned in to kiss you softly, a promise sealed without words. As you fell asleep that night, Seokjin's steady breathing beside you, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. This new chapter of your life was just beginning, and you couldn't wait to see where it would lead.
-
*10 years ago*
The afternoon sun streamed through the large windows of your home classroom, where you sat at a small table with Minjee, guiding her through a particularly tricky math problem. Your daughter's brow was furrowed in concentration, her pencil tapping rhythmically against the paper as she worked through the steps you'd shown her.
"I think I've got it, Mom!" Minjee exclaimed suddenly, her face lighting up as she scribbled down the final answer.
You leaned over to check her work, a proud smile spreading across your face. "That's perfect, sweetheart! You've really gotten the hang of these equations."
Minjee beamed at the praise, but her smile faltered slightly as she glanced at the clock on the wall. "Is Dad going to be home for dinner tonight?"
You felt a small pang in your chest at the question. Seokjin had been working longer hours lately, taking on additional responsibilities at work. While you were immensely proud of his dedication and success, you couldn't deny that his absence was felt keenly by both you and Minjee.
"I'm not sure, honey," you answered honestly. "He's been very busy at work lately. But I'm sure he'll try his best to make it home."
As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a text message. You picked it up, hoping to see Seokjin's name, but instead, it was a reminder about the parent-teacher association meeting you'd volunteered to host next week.
You sighed, feeling the familiar tug of conflicting responsibilities. While you loved being home with Minjee and wouldn't trade it for the world, there were times when you missed the structure and social aspects of your old job. And lately, with Seokjin working such long hours, you'd been feeling the weight of managing everything at home largely on your own.
"Mom?" Minjee's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "Can we be done with math for today? I want to work on my art project."
You nodded, pushing aside your worries for the moment. "Of course, sweetie. Why don't you go set up in the living room? I'll clean up here and join you in a few minutes."
As Minjee scampered off, you began tidying up the classroom, your mind still churning. You and Seokjin had always been a team, supporting each other's dreams and sharing responsibilities. But lately, it felt like the balance had shifted, and you weren't sure how to address it without sounding ungrateful for the life you'd chosen.
Just as you were finishing up, you heard the front door open. Surprised, you glanced at the clock – it was barely past five.
"I'm home!" Seokjin's voice called out, followed by the sound of Minjee's excited squeal.
You made your way to the living room, where you found Seokjin scooping Minjee up into a big hug, his briefcase and jacket discarded by the door.
"You're home early," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.
Seokjin set Minjee down and crossed the room to you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "I missed my girls," he said simply, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
As you relaxed into his arms, you felt some of the tension you'd been carrying start to melt away. But you knew you needed to talk about the thoughts that had been weighing on you.
"Jin," you started, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Can we talk later? After Minjee's in bed?"
A flicker of concern crossed his face, but he nodded. "Of course. Everything okay?"
You gave him a small smile. "It will be. I just... there are some things I think we need to discuss."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of family dinner, helping Minjee with her art project, and the usual bedtime routine. Throughout it all, you could feel Seokjin's eyes on you, clearly worried about what you wanted to talk about.
Finally, with Minjee tucked in and the house quiet, you and Seokjin settled onto the couch in the living room. He took your hand in his, his thumb tracing familiar patterns on your skin.
"What's on your mind, love?" he asked gently.
You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. "Jin, I... I'm struggling a bit lately. With the balance of everything."
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I love being home with Minjee," you hurried to clarify. "I don't regret that decision for a second. But lately, with you working such long hours... I feel like I'm juggling everything on my own. The house, Minjee's education, the day-to-day stuff. And I miss... us. The team we used to be."
Seokjin's face fell, a look of guilt replacing his confusion. "Oh, love. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize... I've been so focused on work, on providing for our family, that I didn't see how it was affecting you both."
You squeezed his hand. "I know you're working hard for us. And I'm so proud of you for that. I just... I guess I'm feeling a bit lost. Like I'm not sure where I fit anymore, beyond being Minjee's mom and teacher."
Seokjin pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. "You are so much more than that," he said fiercely. "You're my partner, my best friend, the love of my life. And I've been taking that for granted lately. I'm sorry."
You felt tears prick at your eyes, relief flooding through you at finally voicing your feelings. "I don't want you to feel guilty," you said. "I just... I think we need to find a better balance. For all of us."
Seokjin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "You're right. We do. And we will. Starting right now."
He stood up suddenly, pulling you to your feet. "Come on," he said, a familiar twinkle returning to his eye.
"Where are we going?" you asked, laughing despite your confusion.
"To the kitchen," he announced. "We're going to make a plan. Like we used to when we were first married, remember?"
You followed him, a warm feeling spreading through your chest as you remembered the many late nights you'd spent at the kitchen table, planning your future together over cups of tea and sheets of paper.
Seokjin pulled out a notepad and two pens, setting them on the table with a flourish. "Okay," he said, his tone serious but his eyes sparkling. "Let's figure this out. Together."
For the next few hours, you and Seokjin talked, laughed, and occasionally argued as you hashed out a new plan for your family. You discussed ways for Seokjin to cut back his hours at work, ideas for getting more involved in the community to give you more adult interaction, and strategies for sharing household responsibilities more evenly.
As the night wore on, you found yourself remembering all the reasons you'd fallen in love with this man in the first place. His willingness to listen, his creativity in problem-solving, his unwavering support of your dreams and needs.
By the time you finally crawled into bed, the first light of dawn was starting to peek through the curtains. But you felt lighter than you had in months, secure in the knowledge that you and Seokjin were still the team you'd always been.
As you curled up next to him, his arm automatically wrapping around you, Seokjin pressed a kiss to your temple. "Thank you," he murmured.
"For what?" you asked sleepily.
"For reminding me what's really important," he said. "For being my partner in every sense of the word. I love you, more than ever."
You snuggled closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. "I love you too," you whispered. "Always and forever."
As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for the future. You and Seokjin had faced challenges before, and you'd face more in the years to come. But together, you could handle anything life threw your way.
The next morning, as you all sat around the breakfast table, Minjee looked back and forth between you and Seokjin, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Did something happen?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "You both look... different."
You exchanged a smile with Seokjin before turning to your daughter. "Nothing bad happened, sweetheart," you assured her. "Your dad and I just had a good talk last night about how we can spend more time together as a family."
Seokjin reached across the table to ruffle Minjee's hair affectionately. "That's right, kiddo. In fact, I was thinking maybe we could start having a weekly family game night. What do you think?"
Minjee's face lit up with excitement. "Really? Can we play Monopoly? Oh, or maybe that new strategy game I got for my birthday?"
As Minjee rattled off a list of potential games, you caught Seokjin's eye over her head. The love and determination you saw there made your heart swell. You knew there would still be challenges ahead, but you felt ready to face them together.
-
*5 years ago*
The soft strains of classical music drifted through the house as you stood in front of an easel in the spare room, now converted into a makeshift art studio. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the canvas before you, where splashes of vibrant color were starting to take shape into something resembling a landscape.
You stepped back, tilting your head as you considered your work. It wasn't perfect by any means, but there was something deeply satisfying about seeing your vision come to life through brush strokes and paint.
"Mom! Dad's home!" Minjee's voice called from downstairs, interrupting your artistic reverie.
You glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was already past six. You'd been so engrossed in your painting that you'd lost track of time completely.
Quickly wiping your paint-stained hands on a nearby cloth, you made your way downstairs to find Seokjin hanging up his coat, Minjee already regaling him with tales of her day.
"...and then in science class, we dissected a frog! It was gross but so cool, Dad. I think I might want to be a biologist when I grow up. Or maybe a vet. Or maybe..."
Seokjin caught your eye over Minjee's head, his lips quirking into an amused smile at your daughter's enthusiasm. As Minjee paused for breath, he took the opportunity to greet you.
"There's my beautiful artist," he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss. "How's the masterpiece coming along?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Hardly a masterpiece, but it's coming along. I got a bit carried away and lost track of time, I'm afraid. I haven't even started dinner yet."
"No worries," Seokjin said, already rolling up his sleeves. "I'll whip something up. You two can fill me in on your day while I cook."
As you settled at the kitchen island with Minjee, watching Seokjin move efficiently around the kitchen, you marveled at how much had changed in the past five years. True to his word, Seokjin had made a concerted effort to balance his work and home life better. He'd delegated more at the office, started coming home earlier most days, and had become much more involved in Minjee's homeschooling.
And you... well, you'd discovered a passion you never knew you had.
It had started innocently enough, with you joining Minjee for her art lessons as a way to encourage her creativity. But something about the feel of a paintbrush in your hand, the endless possibilities of a blank canvas, had awakened something in you.
What began as a casual hobby quickly grew into a full-blown passion. You'd taken online classes, joined local art groups, and slowly but surely, your skills had improved. The spare room had been transformed into your studio, and you found yourself spending more and more time there, losing yourself in the joy of creation.
Seokjin had been nothing but supportive, encouraging you to pursue this new interest with the same fervor he applied to everything in life. He'd even surprised you on your last anniversary with a set of professional-grade paints and brushes, along with a promise to watch Minjee anytime you wanted to attend a workshop or art retreat.
"Earth to Mom," Minjee's voice broke into your thoughts. "Dad asked if you wanted carrots in the stir fry."
You blinked, focusing on Seokjin's expectant face. "Oh! Yes, carrots would be great. Sorry, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you two supporting my art journey."
Seokjin's expression softened. "We're the lucky ones," he said. "Watching you discover and nurture this talent has been amazing. Speaking of which..." He trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.
You raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of which, what?"
"Well," he said, turning back to the stove to hide his grin, "I may have done something. A surprise, of sorts."
Minjee perked up at this. "Ooh, what kind of surprise? Can I know too?"
Seokjin chuckled. "You already know, squirt. In fact, you helped me plan it."
Now you were really curious. "Okay, you two. Spill it. What's going on?"
Seokjin exchanged a look with Minjee before turning back to you. "I may have... submitted some of your paintings to that local art show you were too nervous to enter. And they may have... accepted them."
Your jaw dropped. "You what? Jin, I... those weren't ready! I'm not ready! I can't-"
"Yes, you can," Seokjin interrupted gently, coming around the island to take your hands in his. "Love, your work is beautiful. It deserves to be seen. And you deserve to be recognized for your talent."
Minjee nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, Mom! Your paintings are awesome. Everyone's going to love them!"
You felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you – fear, excitement, gratitude, love. "I don't know what to say," you managed finally.
Seokjin pulled you into a hug. "Say you'll do it. Say you'll let the world see how amazing you are."
As you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, you felt a surge of courage. This man, who had supported you through career changes, parenthood, and now this new artistic endeavor, believed in you completely. How could you not believe in yourself?
You pulled back, looking from Seokjin to Minjee and back again. "Okay," you said, your voice stronger now. "Okay, I'll do it."
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of preparation. You spent hours in your studio, touching up paintings and agonizing over which pieces to display. Seokjin and Minjee were your constant cheerleaders, offering encouragement and honest feedback in equal measure.
The night of the art show arrived all too quickly. As you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your outfit for the hundredth time, you felt a familiar wave of nervousness wash over you.
"You look beautiful," Seokjin's voice came from the doorway. You turned to see him leaning against the frame, looking handsome in a suit, his eyes warm with pride and love.
"I'm terrified," you admitted, smoothing down your dress again.
He crossed the room to you, taking your hands in his. "I know. But you're also brave, and talented, and absolutely incredible. You've got this."
You took a deep breath, drawing strength from his unwavering faith in you. "Okay. Let's do this."
The art show was held in a converted warehouse space, the white walls lined with paintings and sculptures from local artists. Your pieces were displayed in a small corner, but to you, they might as well have been in the Louvre.
As people began to mill around, examining the artwork and sipping wine, you felt your nerves return full force. But then you felt a warm hand slip into yours – Seokjin, a steady presence at your side. On your other side, Minjee stood tall and proud, eagerly pointing out your paintings to anyone who would listen.
"And this one," she was saying to an elderly couple, "is inspired by our family camping trip last summer. See how Mom captured the way the sunlight filtered through the trees?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you watched your daughter enthusiastically promote your work. She had grown so much, no longer the little girl who needed help with her math homework, but a confident young woman with a mind of her own.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing, even enjoying the conversations with other artists and art enthusiasts. People seemed genuinely interested in your work, asking about your techniques and inspiration.
Near the end of the night, a woman in a stylish blazer approached you, a business card in hand. "I run a small gallery downtown," she said, her eyes bright with interest. "I'd love to feature some of your work in our upcoming showcase of emerging artists. Would you be interested?"
You felt Seokjin's hand tighten around yours, a silent show of support. You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of confidence. "Yes," you heard yourself say. "Yes, I'd be very interested."
As the woman walked away, promising to be in touch, you turned to Seokjin, your eyes wide with disbelief and excitement. "Did that really just happen?"
He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It really did. I'm so proud of you, love. You took a chance on yourself, and look where it's led."
As you stood there in his embrace, surrounded by your art and with Minjee beaming beside you, you felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. This journey – from career woman to stay-at-home mom to budding artist – hadn't always been easy. But with Seokjin by your side, supporting you every step of the way, you had found a path that felt truly yours.
"Thank you," you whispered, looking up into his eyes. "For believing in me. For encouraging me to follow this dream."
Seokjin's smile was soft and full of love. "Always," he said simply. "Your dreams are my dreams, remember?"
As you left the art show that night, your hand in Seokjin's and Minjee chattering excitedly about your potential gallery showcase, you felt a sense of excitement for what the future might hold. Whatever came next, you knew you'd face it together, as you always had.
-
*2 years ago*
The waiting room of the doctor's office was quiet, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of papers as the receptionist worked at her desk. You sat rigid in your chair, your hand clasped tightly in Seokjin's, as you waited for your name to be called.
The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of tests and specialists, all stemming from some persistent symptoms you'd initially brushed off as just part of getting older. But Seokjin, ever attentive, had insisted you get checked out. Now, here you were, waiting for results that could potentially change everything.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kim?" a nurse called, appearing in the doorway with a clipboard.
You stood on shaky legs, Seokjin's arm immediately going around your waist to steady you. As you followed the nurse down the hallway, you felt a mix of fear and gratitude – fear for what you might learn, and gratitude for the man beside you, solid and unwavering in his support.
The doctor, a kind-faced woman in her fifties, greeted you with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Your heart sank, already anticipating bad news.
"We've got your test results back," she began, her voice gentle. "I'm afraid it's not what we were hoping for."
The next few minutes passed in a blur as the doctor explained your diagnosis – a chronic autoimmune condition that, while not life-threatening, would require significant lifestyle changes and ongoing treatment to manage.
You sat in stunned silence as she outlined treatment options and potential side effects. Through it all, Seokjin's hand remained firmly clasped in yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin.
"I know this is a lot to take in," the doctor said finally. "Do you have any questions?"
You opened your mouth to speak, but found you couldn't form words. Seokjin squeezed your hand gently before addressing the doctor.
"What can we do to help manage the symptoms?" he asked, his voice steady despite the concern etched on his face. "Are there dietary changes we should make? Exercise routines?"
As the doctor answered his questions, you marveled at Seokjin's ability to stay focused, to think practically even in the face of such daunting news. He asked about support groups, about the latest research, about how this might affect your art career.
By the time you left the office, laden with pamphlets and prescriptions, you felt overwhelmed but not alone. Seokjin's arm was around you as you walked to the car, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your thoughts.
"How are you feeling?" he asked softly as you buckled your seatbelt.
You took a shaky breath. "Scared," you admitted. "Overwhelmed. I don't... I don't know how to process this."
Seokjin reached over to take your hand. "That's okay. We'll process it together, one day at a time. We've faced challenges before, and we'll face this one too."
As you drove home, Seokjin outlined a plan of action – researching the best specialists, looking into natural remedies to complement your prescribed treatment, adjusting your diet. His calm, methodical approach helped soothe your frayed nerves.
"What about my art?" you asked suddenly, a new wave of worry washing over you. "What if the medications affect my ability to paint?"
Seokjin glanced at you, his eyes full of determination. "Then we'll find new ways for you to express your creativity. Maybe we'll explore digital art, or sculpture, or any other medium that works for you. Your talent isn't confined to just one form, love."
His unwavering faith in you brought tears to your eyes. "What did I do to deserve you?" you whispered.
He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "You're you. That's more than enough."
The next few months were challenging as you adjusted to your new reality. There were good days and bad days, days when the medications left you too fatigued to get out of bed, and days when you felt almost normal.
Through it all, Seokjin was your rock. He took time off work to accompany you to doctor's appointments, researched recipes for anti-inflammatory meals, and even learned how to give you injections when your hands were too shaky to do it yourself.
Minjee, now in her last year of high school, stepped up in ways that made your heart swell with pride. She took on more chores around the house without being asked, and spent hours researching your condition, often presenting you and Seokjin with the latest studies over dinner.
One evening, about six months after your diagnosis, you were sitting in your studio, staring at a blank canvas. Your hands ached too much to hold a brush, and frustration burned in your chest.
Seokjin found you there, tears of frustration streaking your cheeks. Without a word, he sat beside you, pulling you into his arms.
"I can't do it," you sobbed into his shirt. "I can't paint. What if I never can again?"
He held you tighter, his chin resting on top of your head. "Then we'll find another way," he said softly. "Your art isn't just what you create with your hands, love. It's how you see the world, how you interpret beauty and emotion. That hasn't changed."
You pulled back to look at him, wiping your eyes. "How are you always so positive?"
His smile was tender as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Because I have faith in you. In us. We've weathered storms before, and we'll weather this one too."
Inspired by his words, you began to explore new forms of art. On days when your hands cooperated, you painted. On days when they didn't, you experimented with digital art, or dictated vivid descriptions of the images in your mind for Seokjin or Minjee to sketch.
Slowly but surely, you found a new rhythm. Your art evolved, taking on new depths as you channeled your experiences into your work. The local gallery that had shown interest in your pieces before your diagnosis reached out again, this time proposing a solo exhibition.
"Resilience," you decided to call it. A showcase of your journey, from your early landscapes to your latest mixed-media pieces that incorporated digital elements and traditional painting.
The night of the exhibition opening, you stood in the gallery, surrounded by your work. Seokjin was by your side, as always, his arm around your waist, a proud smile on his face.
"You did it," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You leaned into him, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. "We did it," you corrected. "I couldn't have done any of this without you."
As you mingled with the guests, accepting congratulations and discussing your pieces, you caught sight of Minjee across the room. She was animatedly explaining one of your paintings to a group of her friends, her face alight with pride. Your heart swelled at the sight of your daughter, now a young woman on the cusp of starting college, so confident and passionate.
Later that night, as you and Seokjin were getting ready for bed, he pulled you into his arms, his eyes shining with emotion.
"Do you remember," he said softly, "twenty years ago, when we first got married? If someone had told us then about all the ups and downs we'd face, all the challenges and triumphs, do you think we would have believed them?"
You thought about it for a moment, then shook your head with a smile. "Probably not. But I wouldn't change a single moment of it."
Seokjin's arms tightened around you. "Neither would I. Every step of this journey has just made me love you more."
As you drifted off to sleep that night, wrapped in Seokjin's embrace, you felt a profound sense of peace. Life hadn't always been easy, but with Seokjin by your side, you had faced every challenge head-on and come out stronger for it.
-
Back to the Present
The warm afternoon sun filtering through the curtains brought you back to the present moment. Across from you, Minjee was still poised with her tablet, a look of awe on her face as she finished jotting down notes from your trip down memory lane.
"Wow, Mom," she said, her voice soft with emotion. "I knew you and Dad had a special relationship, but hearing about it like this... it's incredible."
You smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Your father is an incredible man. We've had our ups and downs, like any couple, but he's always been my rock, my biggest supporter."
Minjee nodded, her eyes shining. "I hope I find someone who loves me even half as much as Dad loves you."
"You will, sweetheart," you assured her. "Just remember, love isn't just about the big romantic gestures. It's about the everyday moments, the small kindnesses, the willingness to stand by each other through thick and thin."
Just then, you heard the front door open, followed by Seokjin's familiar voice calling out, "I'm home!"
Moments later, he appeared in the doorway of the living room, his salt-and-pepper hair slightly tousled from the wind outside. Despite the lines that time had etched around his eyes and mouth, his smile was as bright and warm as ever.
"How are my favorite girls?" he asked, crossing the room to press a kiss to the top of your head before ruffling Minjee's hair affectionately.
"We're good, Dad," Minjee said, batting his hand away with a laugh. "Mom's been telling me all about your love story for my project. It's pretty amazing stuff."
Seokjin's eyes met yours, a lifetime of shared memories passing between you in that single glance. "Well," he said, his voice warm with affection, "when you're married to the most amazing woman in the world, it's hard not to have an amazing story."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, marveling at how, even after all these years, Seokjin could still make your heart flutter like a lovestruck teenager.
"Alright, you two," Minjee groaned, though her smile betrayed her feigned disgust. "Save the mushy stuff for when I'm not around."
You all laughed, the sound filling the room with warmth and joy. As Seokjin settled onto the couch beside you, his arm automatically going around your shoulders, you leaned into his familiar embrace.
Twenty years of marriage. Twenty years of love, laughter, tears, challenges, and triumphs. As you sat there, surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over you.
Life hadn't always been easy. There had been moments of doubt, of fear, of frustration. But through it all, Seokjin had been there, his love a constant beacon guiding you home. Together, you had built a life filled with love, creativity, and resilience.
You turned to look at Seokjin, finding his eyes already on you, filled with the same love and adoration you'd seen on your wedding day two decades ago. Without words, you both leaned in, sharing a soft, tender kiss.
"Ugh, guys," Minjee's playful complaint brought you back to the present. "I said save it for later!"
You and Seokjin broke apart, laughing. As you settled back against his side, his arm tightening around you, you couldn't help but smile. This was your life – imperfect, challenging at times, but filled with more love than you had ever dreamed possible.
And as for the future? Well, with Seokjin by your side and Minjee blazing her own trail, you couldn't wait to see what the next twenty years would bring.
summary: one night was all you needed to come back to him or a story in which love grows where seokjin goes, and you can’t help but follow.
genre: fluff (7.8k)
note: i have my exams soon, so i’ll get back to writing as soon as they are over, i wanted to give you all a little something before that so, i hope, with all my heart, that you guys enjoy this <3
masterlist
three years ago, your trip to berlin changed the entire trajectory of your life.
one day, your life was all black and white and then it burst into so many colors that you couldn’t quite grasp how quickly it changed to look so beautiful.
which is why you decided to come back to berlin. more successful, happy, and filled with life than you have ever been, you came back to live your bright past for one last time and move on to bigger things.
you look out the window as the cab breezes past the beach that held more memories than 23 years of your life, a smile unconsciously grows on your face as you think back on how different just 3 years of your life were.
you wonder how he is.
you never stopped wondering how he is.
the envelope holding your promotion was sat tightly in your hands, you knew he would be happy, ecstatic even, you just knew he would pick you up and spin you around. out of everyone in your life, you felt like he, of all people, would understand just how much this promotion meant to you.
“take a right or left from here, ma’am?” the cab driver’s voice breaks your train of thoughts. “right, you know this applefarm café which is around here? drop me off there.” you sit back and a giddy smile dances on your face, you wonder if you will run into him just like you did all those years ago or if you will have to call and find out.
you did worry at the beginning that maybe he would forget you, but every nerve in your body forced itself to implant him in your memory forever and you knew that he would do the same.
at applefarm café, you took a seat right near the entrance, it was exactly the spot where you had brunch with him after a night full of conversations that were embedded in you and your heart swelled when you saw the same elderly waitress, who served you all those years ago, heading towards you.
“what can i get for you today, ma’am?” she obviously didn’t remember you, but you couldn’t help but let a large grin split at her sight.
“a peach milkshake and chocolate tart please” it’s a miracle that you’ve managed to remember his order after all these years but every single second you spent with him is all your mind revolves around anymore, especially when you’re so close yet still far from him.
-
~2019~
you don’t know how your friends convinced you to come on this last-minute trip to berlin but here you were, not hating every second but still totally uncomfortable with how unprepared you were for this trip.
you were, to put it in a nice way, a total control freak.
you didn’t like going anywhere that wasn’t already dated in your planner, last-minute plans made you sweat like a wolf in heat, and it annoyed you to your very core when someone canceled plans that you had already made a schedule around.
even right now, as your friends happily pre-gamed before crashing a party, you were anxiously jotting down things you can do in berlin for the rest of your time there. your closest friend, jennie looks over and groans when she catches sight of the planner in your hands and immediately walks over to snatch it from you.
“seriously, what the fuck?” you yell after her as she locks the planner in the hotel room-provided vault. “i thought we all agreed on going spontaneous for this trip” she crosses her arms across her chest as she stares at you accusingly. “yes, all of you agreed but not me, we still haven’t done any tourist stuff and we leave tomorrow.” you desperately try to explain your friends, who through their fondness for your love for organizing, are shaking their heads at you.
“i have reached my limit of spontaneity, give me a break” you groan as you fall back on the bed, you don’t understand why you just can’t relax and let things be, you have always had a hard time with letting go or having fun, always too cautious and way too strung up to even think of doing something rebellious.
“listen, i know this is hard for you but for this one last night, just trust us.” lisa pats your thigh as she sits down beside you, trying not to grin at your obvious misery. “do i have a choice to do anything but that?” you can’t help but ask even if you know the answer and they all collectively smirk at you because they know that you know it too.
so, five hours later, when you’re sitting at your table in a club that you’re sure is way too small to fit the number of people in it, you are not the least bit surprised. your friends are swaying next to you, to the music and you’re all cheering before shots but you don’t feel all excited.
sure, you are happy, you love your friends but there is something missing in the air of the night.
maybe your drinks aren’t strong enough, maybe you are too in your head (yet again) to fully come out of your shell, maybe these lights are starting to make you feel dizzy, you don’t know.
but your attention is quickly taken away by the faint sound of a guitar strumming, and as you start to register the sound, you see everyone hurriedly walking over to the beach at the back of the place, all of them bubbling with excitement.
you watch as people keep shuffling towards the beach with loud chatter and you tilt your head at the commotion, wondering what could possibly have these people so flushed with anticipation.
and you don’t know why but your gut pulls you towards the back as well.
you have always been curious, about everything you come across, you need to everything that’s going on around you, and a large group of people migrating so suddenly, had your feet moving as quickly as they could towards them.
you look around confusedly at everyone gathered around a stage, quickly learning that a performance was set to take place, and also that there were no places left to sit so you dumbly hover by the door leading to the back, concluding that some hinge support was better than standing around in the loose sand for however long the performance was supposed to last.
then, over the gentle crashing of the waves to the shore, you hear it again, the faint guitar strumming but it’s not as faint anymore.
and it was coming from the right of you.
your head snaps to see the silhouette of a man tuning his guitar, and you automatically hold your breath as your eyes involuntarily lock on his figure.
you watched in wonder as the moon seemed to engulf him in cosmic light, you could see his high nose from where you were standing, you could see his hair with a few strands out of place, and you could see the loose shape of a t-shirt hanging off his tall and lean body, but you don’t know what exactly about him made every action in your body pause.
your eyes involuntarily follow him as he is joined by a few more people and all of them head onto the make-shift stage. loud cheers fill the previous silence but you don’t hear any of it, you don’t even hear your own heart beating out of your chest, you don’t see the hoards of people around you because your eyes still refuse to look away from him.
and when the honey-shaded light falls on him, you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as your body shivers both in dread and delight, which you would later blame the cold weather for.
because nothing in the world could’ve prepared you for the sight that was that man.
you have seen good-looking people in your life, for heavens’ sake, you have some of the most attractive people you know as your friends but no one has quite invaded every one of your senses so quickly, as this man did.
and you are not sure how exactly you are supposed to feel about that.
from the cloud in your mind, you make out that they were introducing themselves but you don’t really understand what they’re saying. they start a song, you can see him singing, you can see his charming eyes hyping up the crowd from where you stood, you can see how the crowd is totally captivated by the dude with the guitar but you don’t know what they’re singing, you are not listening to a word they are pouring their heart into.
and you feel dirty, that you can’t take your eyes off him, you try to think of how if you were in his place, you wouldn’t want someone to stare at you like they haven’t seen another being in their life.
but then again, he wasn’t just any other being, he was literally the most beautiful being you have laid eyes on.
after forcing yourself to snap out of whatever mild haze that trapped your senses, you look around once again to see everyone enveloping the person next to them as they sway to the voice of the guy and the waves moved more soundly as if to accommodate the delicate ambiance that evening.
“maybe i’ll just never know, maybe i’ll just never hold you anymore but i can say i tried, i can say i fought for you, over the tallest hill in the world, i can yell that i loved you as much as i could, can you say the same?”
his angelic voice rings through the crowd, the lights falling even more delicately on him as he raises his gaze to meet the loved-up couples, and instead ends up meeting your eyes which haven’t been able to look away from him.
you turn your head with cheeks feeling hot as lava as you internally cringe at yourself.
what the fuck are you doing?
what has come over you?
sure, he is attractive but why are you acting as if you have never seen another man?
you sheepishly pat your cheeks before making a quick decision to leave as soon as you can, you can’t afford to make yourself look like even more of a fool than you already have.
but you risk it anyway, you tilt your head slightly to see if he’s gone back to what he was doing, you just wanted one last look at him before you left for good, you needed something to burn this into your memory.
so, imagine what happens when he gives you just what you need to never forget him again.
he was looking right at you, refusing to turn away even after you’ve clearly caught him and he continues singing while keeping his eyes on your every movement.
“but i can say i tried, i can say i gave it my all, i can say i used the last breath in me to breath life into you, can you?”
his lovely voice overshadows the bleak lyrics and you can feel your heartbeat all the way down to your toes.
and that’s when you leave.
you don’t notice the way his hands tighten around his guitar as you turn away.
when you go back in, you immediately collapse near the bar and your dress rides up your thighs as you slump forward on the counter and breathe out a long sigh. you can’t believe your body really gave up on you because one guy looked at you, and frankly, you are very much disappointed in your lack of self-control.
but he was looking at you too.
he refused to stop looking at you, even after you obviously caught him.
and that brought back the heat in your cheeks.
you feel ridiculous and embarrassed at your lack of composure, you don’t even think you have looked at any of the romantic partners in your life that way.
you shake your head at yourself, it was one thing to embarrass yourself, it was another thing to embarrass yourself in a foreign country, and you are so busy beating yourself up, you don’t see the person taking a seat next to you.
“whenever you are done talking to yourself, can i have a turn?” you hear the smoothest voice from beside you and you jump in surprise, not expecting another person to have joined you. in a panic, your eyes hurriedly meet theirs, and your breath is taken away all the same when you see who it is.
he’s still got his guitar resting on his shoulder, his hair is still fashionably out of place, his nose is still high from up close, his shirt hangs off his frame just the same but his face, his face was otherworldly this close.
and you have been talking to yourself like a mad person when he was right next to you.
how charming.
“what are you doing here?” the question tumbles out of your mouth before you can catch it and he quirks an eyebrow at you, an amused smile now gracing his features, you are sure he is smiling because of how wide your eyes have gotten. “if you are interested, i am here for you and if you are not, well, i’m here for this.” he picks up the glass collecting condensation on the counter and picks it up.
of course, with a gorgeous face like his, he is also a smooth talker.
“weren’t you just performing up there?” you try to ask with a clear voice but an audible gulp in the middle of the sentence gives away your nervousness. “i’m done, for today at least” he shrugs and you ignore the fact that his eyes never leave your face as he waits for you to speak.
if he noticed how nervous you are (which you frankly doubt he didn’t, cause you were being obvious with your fidgeting), he didn’t point it out which you felt grateful for.
“you’ve got a lovely voice” you tell him honestly, shifting in your seat to face him better, you did find his voice to be one of the sweetest you have ever heard. his voice held a different depth, now when he was speaking, that you are not sure you comprehend yet. “not lovely enough to make you stay till the end?” you want to run away again as he casually brings up how you ran away in embarrassment when your eyes met his.
“that was not the reason i left” you mumble as you lift your glass to take a large gulp and when you look back at him, he is smiling. he feels good, he feels damn good that someone as pretty as you, are losing your words over him. but he wasn’t doing any better, his heart was pounding in his ears with every word he spoke, and he still can’t believe he mustered up the courage to follow you in.
he hasn’t felt his heart leap so simply and so boundlessly, in a long time. he’s not even sure he’s ever felt this way before.
his pull to you felt magnetic, he didn’t understand why he felt the need to talk to you but he did, and he couldn’t ignore his feelings or understand them if he was being honest, so he was going to do everything he can to understand why you stood out to him in a room with 50 other people.
so he found himself, hurriedly running off the stage after his performance to find you again.
and now that he was this close to you, he understood his racing heart a little but that just left him wanting to know everything about you.
“my name is seokjin, and if you allow me, i would like to take you back there” he stands up, putting his hand out for you to take and your stomach tightens in the pure rush that simple line made you feel. seokjin’s hand trembled in the air, out of sheer nervousness that you were going to say no and turn away, he wished you didn’t notice.
“seokjin” you repeat in a quiet tone, you loved his name already, something about his name fit his face perfectly and you realize that while you were thinking of his name, your hand already reached to place it in his.
and his heart leaps again, he lets out a breath of relief as an easy smile takes over his face.
he gleefully tightens his hand around yours and pulls you to stand with him, that’s when you realize you didn’t even ask him why you were going back. and you can’t bring yourself to care, your entire body is flushed from his hand, you are sure your cheeks are as red as they come and your gaze decides to admire his broad back as he guides the both of you through the crowd.
this isn’t like you, this isn’t like you at all.
you never just talk to strangers, you don’t hold their hands, you don’t get this nervous around a person even if you are a shy person but your mind seemed to tumble on itself since you’ve seen him.
once you are out in the open air, your hot skin raises in goosebumps from how cold the weather had gotten and a slow, sweet song was playing. you could see that people were swaying their bodies with each other and it looked like the setting couldn’t have been more intimate, even with the full room.
you suck in a breath when seokjin turns around to look at you, your hand fell limply to your side as he left, and now, you could truly feel how bone-chilling it was.
“only if you want to, can i have this dance with you?” the way he asks in reassuring, laced with choice for you, it mattered to him more than anything, that you are okay with this and when you smile at him shyly, he swears his heart bursts into a million colors. “let’s go” this time, you envelop your hand around his and drag him with you where you can both dance without bumping into people.
you are still confused; you are still so new to all of this but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be around him.
in a partly secluded corner, you remove your hand from his and wait for him to make the move which he doesn’t take too long to do.
within seconds, he hesitantly places an arm on the side of your waist and you step closer, feeling your breath waver already. he lets his eyes stay on your face as his other hand starts tracing where your arm begins to end by lacing your fingers with his and the entire time, he kept looking for any signs of discomfort in your face and lets out a breath of relief when he doesn’t see any.
“is this, okay?” he mutters, his voice lowering several more octaves and the room felt tight around you, like there was no space to move if it wasn’t in his arms and you found yourself wanting to erase any distance between you two. “more than okay” you mumble back and he bites his lip to hold back his huge smile at your response.
then, he took the confidence he got from the small smile on your face and tightened his hold on you as he started swaying the both of you to the music. and frankly, you didn’t care a bit about the song being played, maybe it was because of the way the same honey-light fell on him as he moved you two, maybe it was because you have never felt so breathless yet so full of life at once but you felt comfortable, comfortable enough to not question how you felt right in that moment.
he made small talk as he twirled you around, seokjin kept leaning in to make sure you knew that you had every bit of his attention and with every question you asked him, he answered with enthusiasm and humor which had your cheeks hurting from smiling so big.
for the first time in a very long time, you weren’t fidgeting to run around to get to the next thing you were supposed to do, you weren’t mentally counting down the minutes you needed to move on, because, somewhere in the middle of him dipping you dramatically to make you laugh to the way his touch left your skin burning; for those few moments, no other place in the world seemed more important.
seokjin’s very presence made you feel calmer than any years of therapy did and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with that information.
“aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” you remind him halfway through the third song and he laughs breathily, sucking in a breath before offering the widest smile to you, which made you instantly smile back even more. “i can’t believe i forgot to ask you that, please excuse my lack of manners. so, what is your name?” he asks, polite as ever, and you immediately tell him.
and just like you, seokjin finds your name to be perfect for your face.
“so, tell me y/n, what brings you here to this place?” his curiosity about you was eating him alive but thankfully, you were more than to humor him. “they have the cheapest vodka around here, at least that’s what it said on yelp” you answer honestly and jin lets out a snort at that. “alcohol shouldn’t be as expensive as it is” he shakes his head in a sort of agreement with you. “exactly like it’s my senses that are being deprived, why am i paying with half my kidney for that?” you complain with furrowed eyebrows and jin coos at the sight, he loves to hear you whine, he loves it way too much.
he keeps asking you questions, about what brought you to berlin, what you liked so far, and who you came here with and you felt yourself melting even more into him as you answer him.
“why did you start performing here?” you ask this time and giggle when he spins you around suddenly to place your back against his chest, both his arms still tightly wound around you as he looks down at you.
he barely knows you but seokjin is willing to bet that he’s going to remember this night forever because no one ever asked him about his purpose for performing.
"well, as you’ve said, i have a lovely voice, i thought why let it go to waste, you know?” you let out a small laugh at the confidence and silliness in his tone but quickly tilt your head as if it to ask him to answer seriously.
at the curious look in your eyes and the light hitting you just right, seokjin feels his senses drain from his body because suddenly, all his eyes can see, all his mind can register, is how close your lips are to his. and you notice his eyes fixating on your lips and your breath hitches. seokjin starts leaning in, his breath hitting your face in a warm wave and you stiffen in pure anticipation of what would come.
but then he shakes his head, leaning back with an uneasy chuckle.
“not now, not like this” you raise your eyebrows as you try to snap out of your own daze. “what do you mean?” you mumble, not doing a good job at hiding your disappointment and he panics, because the last thing he wants is for you to misunderstand him pulling back. “don’t get me wrong, trust me when i say i want to do nothing more than to kiss this night away with you but i want to do it right, i want to do it when both of us can’t think of anything else” as he utters those words, your heart pauses.
then beats.
then pauses again.
before beating louder than any rock music on the planet.
were you always capable of feeling this way?
“then, can i do something?” instead of answering you, he turns you back so you were chest to chest now. “you can do anything you want with me” he whispers back his answer with a dopey grin on his face and your chest tightens in the best way possible as you reach up to leave a light kiss on his cheek.
you are more than pleased to see his face turn red as he tries to hide his blushing face in your shoulders. “can we please get out of here? if you don’t have anything planned, i want to show you so much” he mumbles onto your shoulder and you don’t think twice before nodding.
it wasn’t your smartest moment, you were going to admit to that, jetting off with a stranger in a foreign country in the middle of the night, is never the smart choice but you also couldn’t let this night end here.
you wait at the entrance of the pub with flickering lights, pulling your shawl closer to your body after you waved your friends’ goodbye, needless to say, they were surprised by your impulsive decision but after making sure you had a way to reach them if things went south, they left with giggles about how berlin’s air changed you.
“why are you even going with him?” they had asked and were pleasantly surprised when you replied with “i don’t know” and a happy shrug, you were free of any riddling anxiety in your body at that moment. and your friends were glad to see it.
“should we?” seokjin walks out and your jaw drops because of how different he looked with just an outfit change. his loose, dark-colored t-shirt, torn jeans and chains replaced with a well-fitting cream-colored shirt tucked into beige pants and a blazer thrown over his arm. even his hair looked different, now neatly styled and tucked back.
“too much of a contrast, isn’t it? unfortunately, this is how i usually dress, pretty bland colors and all.” he laughs as he sees your face and you immediately shake your head, “it’s fine, it’s nice” it’s very nice and i might be drooling a little, might have been the more accurate response there. he stares at you for a few seconds, doing his best to hide the smirk growing on his face.
eventually, he shakes his head with a huge grin, reaching out to take your hand in his, he was no longer hesitant because if seokjin went by the way you looked at him, you wanted him just as much as he did.
-
your room wasn’t the best, it restricted your view of the prettiest city you’ve had the pleasure of knowing but you didn’t want to waste money on a room you were barely going to spend time in. falling on the bed, your mind goes back to seokjin, as if it ever stopped thinking of him. your smile grew and grew as you recounted everything that happened the night you met him, you can’t believe it was actually you who took off with a stranger.
but it was the best decision you made in your life.
not much has changed now though, you are still extremely strict with your plans and time but you allow yourself to let go when it feels right. you were grateful that you still had that strong work ethic in you because that rewarded itself in the form of a promotion you have waited forever for.
you get up to look out the window, your eyes set on the same pub that let you fall in love all those years and you immediately run to the bathroom to start getting ready.
you couldn’t wait any longer to see him and for someone who hated waiting the most, he truly put you up to the ultimate test.
your hand unconsciously reaches to the chain hanging off your neck, you just hoped he thought of you just as much.
-
~2019~
“so, why do you perform? you never ended up telling me” you pause from the breathless laughter you both have been tumbling in since you sat down near a stall owned by jin’s friend. ‘they have the best bingsu i’ve had in my life’ is what he said after learning that you enjoy sweet things.
“i told you, lovely voice and all” he quirked an eyebrow and you fight the grin on your face as you tried to glare at him. “okay okay, i’ll tell you” he gives in, moving closer to you on the long bench as the cold wind kept hitting both your faces.
you also moved closer, adjusting his jacket on your shoulder and seokjin fought the urge to hold you even closer, he didn’t like even the tiny bit of space left between you two.
“it’s not my actual job, performing at the pub. i am actually an accounting manager, but i was sent by the company to berlin, and they are based in seoul, which is also where i grew up.” he explains and it took you by surprise that this isn’t what he did for a living, he really looked like he was made to be on the stage. “i came here around 4 years ago, so not too long ago but long enough to know where the best food is, where the pretty places are, where the vodka is cheapest” he trails off with a teasing smile to you, and you giggle in response.
“i am holding onto you for the cheap vodka thing, you need to take me there” you say, tilting your head at him with a huge grin on your face and seokjin’s entire face softens at your smile. “consider it done.” and he doesn’t know what prompts him but he leans over to brush his nose with yours and you don’t back away, and instead nuzzle into his touch.
this was nice, this was way too nice.
then he continued, “when i came here, i didn’t know anyone, i was too shy to talk to people at work and i felt extremely homesick, the only thing that kept me sane then was cooking myself korean food from time to time. i was working like a machine, with no real motive or passion for anything, just a repeated cycle. but then, i met these guys, and somehow, ended up in a band with them. we perform only on some days, whenever all of us are free and i didn’t even know i would be happy singing in front of people, but i am, unbelievably so.” his voice was sad when he was talking about home but as soon as mentioned his friends, his voice became louder, more filled with pride and you didn’t need him to tell you that he thought the world of these friends.
he looked over at you and your eyes were slightly glazed over because you can’t imagine missing home, you can’t imagine not knowing anyone in a huge city like this, you would simply not be able to go through with something similar to what seokjin did, and your admiration grew with every word he spoke.
seokjin, on the other hand, can’t remember a time when he opened up so easily and deeply to someone.
“i am glad you performed today” you say, with warm cheeks and not really looking at him. one side of his mouth lifts up at your words, and he nods, “i am glad i did too.”
“so, what do you do? what unwillingly gets you out of bed every day?” he throws the question to you and you sit up straight, the thought of your work immediately alerting your senses.
“i am working at a start-up, we are trying to make a platform for people of color to express themselves on various attributes like their workplace and the micro-aggressions they face there, or their family’s immigration, how it feels to have to live in a place where the language and culture aren’t yours and how they deal with it. the idea is to express all this through different media outlets like videos, or a series of articles, or artwork.” you explain and seokjin sits in wonder at how smart you are, he expected you to be doing something like that, he didn’t know why but he just had a feeling that someone like you was just brimming with ideas.
but he does notice that your eyes don’t light up like his when he talks about performing.
“but you don’t like it?” you nod and then pause before shaking your head at this.
“the objective is great, the whole reason i joined was because i didn’t want people who looked like me, who sounded like me, to feel alone. i wanted to give them a safe place, a voice, something that was only theirs, something i wish i had when i started out.” you bite your lip because talking about your job makes you sad.
“i want to do so much but you know who’s the head managing all of these activities? a white person, a white person with privilege. he’s never had to fight for his voice. he’s straight, he’s white, he plays golf on the weekends, he has kids comfortably going to private schools and he has a trophy wife. he doesn’t understand these stories, he throws every single one that comes our way and refuses to hear out the already silenced people, always asking for something ‘spicy’ instead of the truth, he just wants a dramatic story to publicize. i just can’t stand working for someone like him, someone who refuses to see the entire reason for our establishment but i can’t give up now, not after i promised to myself that i will make it better for others.”
seokjin hears the determination in your voice, he understands the frustration more than anyone else which is he remains in thoughtful silence before he notices something else in your eyes.
a burning passion to destroy whomever this man was.
“you’re going to do something about him, aren’t you?” he smirks at you and your angry glare melts. “i am going to work till i’m seating in his chair and making decisions that he should be making right now, i’m going to make sure that whatever i do, it will be meaningful. i’m getting that promotion someday” seokjin feels his heart burst with pride, he might not know you all that well, but he knows how much this means to you and that you will do it.
“when you do it, you come and tell me all about it, yeah?” he bumps his shoulder with yours playfully.
it’s the way he says it, like he believes you will do it somehow and that fills you with renewed hope for your future.
“deal.” you whisper, bumping him back. you both sit like that, the night feeling longer than it was supposed to be, but you were all the more grateful for it. then, seokjin gets up, dusting his pants off before extending his hand towards you, and it’s instinct to put your hand in his now.
“come on, i want to show you so much more” and then you’re being dragged away to the next place jin wants to take you to.
that’s how you spend the night, hand in his, and exploring every small corner of berlin that they don’t mention in travel packages, you saw berlin through seokjin’s eyes, and those few hours of drifting away with the cold wind, filled your heart with a feather-like feeling, a feeling of being able to float into the sky if it weren’t for seokjin’s hand anchoring you to the ground.
there wasn’t anywhere or anyone else you wanted to spend that time with.
“you should go now” you whisper with your forehead against his, right outside your hotel, not really wanting to leave or him to leave. it was getting late or early to be more precise; the sun was threatening to peek through, the sky being filled with the faintest shades of orange and blue as you and seokjin stood under, hands refusing to leave the other.
“is that why you’re squeezing the life out of my hands right now?” your giggles escape into the space between you two, “but seriously, it’s too late already.” even as you say it, you don’t move an inch and he doesn’t either.
“i’m going to sound crazy” he starts and your ears perk up immediately, “come to my home, i promise i make a mean hot pot, we can do whatever you want to do.” it should scare you, a stranger inviting you to their home, should definitely trigger some fight or flight response in you, but you don’t feel any of your usual anxiousness, you just feel him and the strong urge to follow wherever he goes.
“i understand if you don’t feel comfortable, i totally get it so don’t feel obliged, but if you do agree, i’ve got a gift for you.” one of seokjin’s eyebrows draws up at the last words, and your curiosity bursts through you, any lingering hesitance immediately left your body.
“my answer” you trail off, stepping back, seokjin’s hands fall away from yours and he thinks this is where your magical night ends, this is the night he will spend weeks daydreaming about, the night that will keep him up forever.
he will spend many days just weaving through the possibilities of what you could be, of what you could’ve been.
you keep him waiting, dwelling in the satisfaction that his nervous face brought.
“depends on your gift.” you give him a coy smile and he lets out an airy laugh, “you had me really scared there, for a second.” he shakes his head at you and you fight your smile from growing bigger, “i know.”
and before you say something else to drop his heart to his ass, seokjin pulls out a chunky, tourist necklace with a laugh threatening to break from his throat. the necklace has a huge locket, with the words ‘berlin’ sprawled on it in vivd, neon colors.
it looks ugly.
he knows it looks ugly.
“i think i’ll just head inside” you playfully turn around on your heel and attempt to walk away, you count down the seconds it takes him to put you back in his arms.
one.
two.
three.
he lasted three seconds.
a record for the night truly.
seokjin’s arms immediately pulled you back to him and as you pretended to struggle against his grip, the ugly necklace was already resting on your clavicle.
“you really thought this would convince me to come home with you?” your hands pull on the necklace as seokjin bows over in laughter, “oh come on, it’s not that bad” he stands straight, clearing his throat, his face fighting to stay passive.
you give him an unimpressed look and that’s enough for him to burst into wheezes of laughter again.
and you love it, you love how freely seokjin laughs.
you want to hear it forever.
you stand there with your arms crossed against your chest, a fond smile etched on your face as you watch the man of your night, start to calm down. and he does, in the dramatic fashion you expect him to, fanning his face to force air onto his red cheeks as his eyes wrinkle with pure joy.
“if you’re done, can we go back to yours already?” you tap your foot impatiently, shying away from the fact that you just agreed to spend even more time with him. seokjin’s heart grows wings as his eyes drift over your soft smile, your tired but happy eyes, and then, the big, ugly necklace that rests on your body now.
“i knew you would like it.”
-
“you have a cute home” you look at the photos hanging off his walls, all of them with either his family or the boys from the band. a fond smile grew on your face as you come across a photo with a very young jin holding a fishing rod. “you fish?” you turn around to see him setting up wine glasses on the counter.
“i used to” he sighed, coming around to give you a glass, for which you thank him silently, “why, no fish in berlin?” you tease him as you take a sip, he remains silent. your mood slips when he doesn’t smile at you as he has been all night.
“i’m sorry if i overstepped” you quickly apologize, not meaning to bring up anything that wasn’t comfortable for him, he shakes his head in response, “no no, god no. don’t say sorry, i just haven’t didn’t feel like fishing anywhere except home” he stares at the picture where he holds the fish with both longing and resignation.
“you miss seoul?”
“always.”
“i can’t imagine missing home” you gulp as you imagine how you would be if you moved places, you wouldn’t survive without your comfort zone. “it’s not all bad.” seokjin smiles reassuringly but you aren’t convinced.
“you just said you miss home always.”
“i do but if i went back home, i would miss this too. imagine if i never left seoul, i would have never joined a band, i would have never put my lovely voice to use,” you scoff as he holds back a laugh, “i would have never known where you can find the cheapest alcohol in berlin, nor would i have ever bought some ugly necklace for a pretty woman.” you look away at the last part, hiding your burning cheeks away by staring out the window, “you buy a lot of women necklaces?”
“only the one, actually.” he steps in front of you with a smirk playing on his lips.
“my, she must be lucky” your voice drips with sarcasm as you raise the ugly necklace to his face, “i would insist i am the lucky one” his eyes are light as seokjin hums and traces the shape of the necklace which falls back on your clavicle.
the lightest touch between his fingers and your skin makes you suck in a breath.
as if a passing cloud suddenly rained down on you.
but you have been waiting for the droplets, you have been waiting for the thunder and storm.
you have been waiting for him to do something that leaves you breathless.
seokjin steps forward, grabs your wine glass, and places it on the counter.
“you know, i’ve met so many people over the years i joined the band,” he whispers his words and you quirk your eyebrow, “you’re not off to a great start, seokjin,”
he stifles a laugh behind his hand before clearing his throat and bringing his hands to rest on your jaw, “you are so impatient.” though it’s a trait of yours that you hate so very much, the way he says it with admiration instead of malice, makes your heart burn in your chest.
“you are making me wait too long” you whisper back, shivering under his fingers which traced your features carefully, intently as his eyes spark back with light-heartedness.
“i apologize for that” he sweeps a hand under your jaw and gently tugs your face towards his and your stomach flips into itself.
everything around you faded into oblivion.
but seokjin wandered and invaded every single one of your senses.
his lips were pillow-soft, as soft as you had imagined.
his soft breath warmed your cheeks.
his hair fell around your eyes and made it hard for you to see.
but you could see.
you could see all of him even with your eyes closed.
you could feel all of him especially with your eyes closed.
his hands that clutched your body like it was his oxygen.
his legs that couldn’t possibly step closer to you but still tried.
his shoulders that were strong under your hands.
how were you going to ever leave him behind?
“seokjin i-“ you let out helplessly, trying to tell him that this was only going to be this one night, that you would have to leave him here. he chooses to soothe his hands over your arms, easing your panic as quickly as it came, and gives you a soft kiss, parting away with a nod to let you continue.
that made it a thousand times harder to tell him.
there was no one way to do this.
“my flight is tomorrow.”
“what?”seokjin’s relaxed face twists as sadness settles behind his eyes. “it’s booked for the evening” you give the information with a wince. his grip on you falters as an uneasy smile break on his face, “i thought you were just at the beginning of your trip.”
you wish it was.
you wish so badly that it was.
he steps away from your space, you understand it’s his form of rejection. it feels like a burning sting running down your back and you hold back the tears that dangle on your lashes, you couldn’t bear this. this was the closest you had ever gotten to love in your entire life and it was crumbling in just some hours.
you didn’t want seokjin to be some distant memory.
you didn’t want to wake up and reminisce on what could have been.
“i don’t want this to end here” you say, voice quivering with vulnerability. you didn’t care if you will be rejected again, you didn’t care if he tells you to leave and your arms shifted to cover your stomach, a poor attempt at protecting yourself.
this was the first time you knew, for sure, something that you wanted and you weren’t going to cost yourself the pain that comes from not trying at all.
but seokjin’s silence was weakening your hope and you wanted to curl into yourself for ever believing that you could have a shot at love.
“i don’t want this to end either.”
his words sunk into you slowly and filled you with the warmth that dissipated from your body.
“are you sure?” you hated how weak you sounded.
seokjin tutted at you, stepping into your space to unfold your arms that held before you as defense and engulfed your hands in his.
“i would hate myself for a long time if i didn’t give us a try, it’s going to be hard but i have a good feeling about this. there’s so much more i want to know about you and there’s so much i want you to know about me, so this can’t end here.”
he breathes back life into you with the promise hidden in his words, that he’s going whichever way you are willing to as well.
“me too, i want more, way more than just this night.”
seokjin’s face fills with both relief and agreement, it reassures you that this wasn’t just you going crazy here, this wasn’t just you hanging onto whatever you could, this was both of you, unwilling to let your chance at love die tonight.
so, you spent all night, with each other, in each other, sharing every bit of yourself that you could in the time that you did.
but soon, the sun shone too bright and your eyes couldn’t stop filling up with tears.
-
you held your breath as you pushed the door open to seokjin’s studio, at least, you hoped this was the one. you had been to his old studios but they just moved into this one, so you had no idea what it looked like.
your palms were getting sweaty.
“y/n!” you heard hoseok, the vocalist and rapper from seokjin’s band chime from a corner and your entire body relaxes as you reach out for a hug. “seokjin hadn’t told us that you were coming, we would’ve cleaned up a bit” you both laughed together at the mess around your feet.
“this is kind of a surprise, so not his fault really.” you set aside the basket of baked goods you bought for them.
“thank you for this, we’ve all been out of it lately with the move and the new label so it’s nice to see you, i’m sure he will be ecstatic” hoseok hums as he digs through it.
“how’s the whole becoming a full-time band thing going?” you tried to distract yourself from the actual reason you were here, it was going to be a lot for seokjin to take at once.
“at the beginning, daunting as fuck, all of us were scared but we really didn’t have to worry so much, our gigs have been consistent and with this new baby, we can do so much more with our music.” you nodded, letting him rant to ease his mind and to also ease yours.
you were overjoyed when seokjin told you that they were becoming a legit band with a proper label, contract, and all the work. but hearing now how stressful it’s been, a tiny seed of worry plants itself in your mind that you were being selfish with this surprise.
but he will be happy, right?
like it’s all you two have talked about wanting. but that was before all the label stuff, before he had so much on his plate and your feet started tapping the ground incessantly as your worry continued to grow.
what if you guys break up over this?
what if he tells you that after all this time and effort, he didn’t want to be together anymore?
a jingle at the door made you jump as three figures started to huddle in.
you were out of time to worry anymore.
-
“just one more minute” you pleaded as your arms stayed tightly wrapped around seokjin’s torso, he let out a sad chuckle at that and granted your wish by letting you bury yourself in him. your friends stayed away to give you the privacy you needed for that minute.
this wasn’t fair.
your first shot at proper love couldn’t end this way, it wasn’t ending technically but still, you had no idea what would happen after this. all you knew for sure was that you had this one minute with him and everything after that, was left up to fate.
“i don’t think i can let you go” he whispers into your hair as he planted a soft kiss on your temple and your body shuddered with unshed tears threatening to cascade from your eyes.
“call everyday?” seokjin asks in a quiet tone, laced with the vulnerability that you braved when you told him that you wanted more. “everyday.” you nodded determinedly into his chest.
“visits whenever we can?” it was your turn to ask and seokjin nods just as determined as you, “whenever we can.”
“you won’t forget me” seokjin says with utter confidence, just to make you laugh, which you do with a full kind of happiness, “it’s kind of hard to” you point to the ugly necklace that you decided to keep on.
it was growing on you.
“we’ll find our way back to each other, okay? somewhere, the universe will and has to align for us and when it does, i will never leave you again.” your eyes, already swollen with the tears you’ve cried, grow wet again as you desperately force yourself to believe him.
it has to.
it absolutely has to.
it can’t just end here.
but as your hands leave him for the last time and your boarding ticket crumbles in your hold, you can’t help but feel that the future may not be as kind to you two as you hoped it would be.
-
meeting seokjin always felt brand new, in between the countless times you both flew to each other, touching his skin after waiting for a while, always took your breath away and managed to make you feel like the lightest cloud in the sky.
but as his arms engulfed you tightly, whispering words of surprise and amazement into your ears at seeing you after so long, your anxiety couldn’t be calmed, your hands couldn’t stop shaking and your breath refused to be even.
this was it, this was the day that would truly mark where you two would end up.
“i thought it was my turn to visit this time” he gleefully kissed your cheek and you nodded stiffly, “i just couldn’t wait” you replied, truthfully but your nerves were starting to give you a headache.
“are you okay? you look pale” seokjin’s eyes assessed you with concern as the back of his hand pressed into your forehead and you sighed.
you had to tell him, this could go badly but it could also go well and with that tiny hope, you tugged towards the exit with you and he followed you wordlessly.
through the years you have known seokjin now, you had fights, huge fights, arguments that you thought you couldn’t move past from, arguments that made you believe you were done. but every single time, you both found your way to each other.
and every single time, he gave you more reasons to stay and keep trying.
which is how you are here, in the city where you discovered love for the first time, throwing a stone into the blind for the future of your relationship and hoping it hits the right spot.
“so, what is on your mind?” he pulls you by your hand to wrap an arm around your body and you shiver with the same giddiness you felt all those years ago.
but you struggle to tell it to him.
no one talks about how scary it is to go a step forward in a relationship and just hope that they take the step too.
so, you don’t tell him. you slowly reach out for the promotion letter tucked away in your coat. you give it to him with shaking hands and with confused eyes, he looks at the paper that held both your futures.
you watch carefully as his eyes go wide and the largest grin grows on his face.
“you got it! you fucking did it, i knew you could but oh my god” seokjin gushes and smothers your face with kisses and you can’t help but giggle. “you actually kicked him out the program, i’m so proud of you” he presses a long kiss on your head and your insides warm with the love he showered on you.
“wait, look at the piece i submitted.” you show him the page where you wrote the story of men in berlin who found their home in each other and in their music, how they missed home but built a new one in a city unknown to them.
“this is about us?” the amazement in his voice brings a smile to your face.
“i couldn’t think of a better person to write about, you are the story that people need to know about because you’ve found the heart to make a strange, new place, your new home.” seokjin’s eyes fill with unshed tears, “you wrote all this?” he chokes back a sob and you know he’s beyond happy with it, so you nod eagerly.
“there’s more” you whisper as you point to the very end of the paper.
the end, where it states, that the headquarters of your organization would permanently move to berlin.
seokjin stares at the text for one second without a word.
two seconds.
three seconds.
this was a mistake, you should’ve talked about this with h-
“is this real? does this mean what i think it does?” he whispers to you, voice filled with confusion and hardly contained joy. you nod at him and bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for him to let you down gently or jump in the air with you.
his response comes in the form of him throwing his entire body onto yours, holding you so tightly that you can hardly breathe but you’re okay being breathless, you hardly contain your shivers of happiness when he starts whispering how grateful he was to you, and how much he loved you.
“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, unable to keep the question hanging in your head. he pulls back and looks at you with such adoration, that you feel dumb for even asking the question.
“are you kidding me? this is all we’ve ever wanted, everything i’ve dreamed of since we started with this. i get to see you everyday and i can’t think of a better thing in my life from now on.” he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear with teary eyes and that’s all it takes for you to cry as well.
“this is good, very good, why are we crying?” you sob into his chest and he shakes his head, unable to give you an answer but holding you tighter against him.
it was hard to make the decision to move but your town didn’t feel right anymore, and there were so many stories to tell, so many days to spend with seokjin that you just couldn’t give up on, so when the offer to berlin came through, you took it right away with a giddy heart.
“this changes everything for us” he sighs out and you tense again, “in the best way possible, i can’t wait to make you sick of me” seokjin lets out a low laugh at your worried face before kissing all your frown lines separately.
and you let him, you let him continue to kiss your worries away.
you look around the city which will soon become your home, a feeling churns in your stomach but you know this time, that it wasn’t your anxiousness, it wasn’t because you had to go running somewhere else, it was because you finally found your person and your place.
that was enough to spark tears back in your eyes and this time, it’s all happiness, it’s all joy, it’s all the excitement that comes with getting to spend every day with the person you love, in the city, that helped you find love.
pairing: ot7 x freader smut: yoongi x reader chp-focus: jjk, ksj, myg
premise: a notorious casino conglomerate, took you in when you were young. you practically grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest
summary: accused of murdering your best friend, you team up with a vengeful detective in an effort to uncover the secrets of the family you swore your loyalty to
warnings: explicit smut, rough sex, todays theme is JEALOUSY, manipulated consent (emotional blackmail), teasing, manhandling, fingering, dirty talk, breast play, crying, penetrative sex, rough oral (m), power plays, a very sexually charged card game and limo ride, a whole lot of SEXUAL TENSION, jin is a FLIRT, suggested dacryphilia, toxic relationships (jin sir pls u good), petnames--princess, mourning/angst, jungkook is hot and COLD (tsundere), obsessive themes, blackmail, guns, character death (nonrelevant), alcohol, gambling, fear, mention of psychiatric treatment
The smell. The distinct smell of false hope. Strong enough to cover the heaps of despair and loss which built it. The casino was ever lively—money on the table, green on green. The sounds of hearty laugher audible over the subdued jazz. Behind the polished bar, Yoongi watched over the crowd with caution. A smile painted on his face like art, unmoving but beautiful to those who looked upon him. He’d chat up his patrons, expertly pouring drinks, movements fluid as he created liquored masterpieces. The trust he held, like a chemist preparing a cure. Their lives locked in his palms.
He excused himself, towel thrown over his shoulder. His all black uniform a welcome contrast to his pale skin. Like a shadow he slipped into the back office. Within a small desk drawer was his pistol. A custom model—the five-letter branding so subtle only those who knew would be able to find it.
He held the weight of the gun in his hand. Nimble fingers tracing along it’s contours. The metal was cold to touch—and he hated it. He hated the life he had been thrown into against his will. But he did it for you.
And you hardly knew. You were utterly blind to the leash which held a vigorous hold around his neck. Even on nights where you’d kiss him so sweetly he could almost forgive you.
Ears tingling from the absence of the pounding music, deep-set laugher. Laughter only those with no care in the world could afford. The silence reminiscent of the void in his heart. He loaded the weapon. Locked in the cartridge and stared down the barrel. You’d look beautiful with it stuffed down your throat. But more likely, it would be Jin pointing it down his.
Tucking the gun in his back pocket, his shoulders relaxed.
A window to the casino floor showed a weak reflection. The fear in his eyes still hiding amongst theatrics of bravery. The fear that the Kim heir had beaten into him with his raw fists. The crooked man who you worshipped was a menace. But you worshipped the ground he walked on, and Yoongi simply couldn’t break the spell.
He returned to the bar. Smile wide with charisma. Despite the pulse of the casino around him, the weight of the gun dragged him down. A harrowing reminder of who he belonged to.
Yoongi hated gambling. It was his least favorite thing about you, yet you knew not of the high-stakes gamble he played almost every night. With every strategically poured drink and every charming conversation, he collected fragments of information, forging alliances and defying destiny. With every step, he embodied the dual essence of a bartender and a gangster—making him a valuable piece in Kim Seokjin’s game.
“Promise me something” The night before, you looked at him with so much adoration, he swore he could melt into your touch.
“Don’t fall in love with me. Because I can never love you back”
His lips parted, shocked—breathing in. Met in seconds with a kiss so incredibly hot that he could feel the burn even hours later. His palms immediately cupping your cheeks, lips pressed tight against yours, unwavering. The pain searing with your words made him dizzy. Made him nauseous. You were sickening, addictive and he craved you insatiably.
Deeping the kiss as he tilted your head back more. Eyes shut—lost in the feeling. Everything vanished. There was only him. Only you.
He pulled you in closer—lifting you into his arms. Soft moans escaping but neither of you separated for long. He didn’t want to part. Didn’t want to breathe. He wanted to be consumed by the crippling mess you were. Lips sliding across your jaw—peppering hot kisses down your neck. Your fingers weaving through his hair, guiding him. He gripped your hips gently, knee slotting between your legs.
“Promise me, Yoongi” You exhaled quietly, breath uneven, shaky. “I need you to say it”
Yoongi’s teeth grazed over your ear as he grunted in irritation. Fingers intertwining with yours he finally backed away, meeting your eyes.
“We can’t do this unless you promise” Exasperated, he cupped your face again, thumb tracing your bottom lip fondly. You grabbed his wrist, begging him with your eyes. Your voice was quiet. So quiet he could feel your words without hearing them. Lust burned in his gaze—eyes darkening.
The pain was delicious. The ache burning in his heart. He had never entertained the thought of ever having feelings for you. Never rendered the possibility. He understood the arrangement well. But hearing you say it. Seeing the way you looked at him. The way you kissed him, let him touch you, let him make love to you night after night.
“Yoongi, please” Words had a way of ruining the most beautiful things. Yoongi wondered if he had just stayed quiet, would the pain never come? You began clawing at his shirt, popping the buttons off one by one. Yoongi hissed, tugging at your lip warningly. Blinking at you for a second, he seemed to weigh his options. He lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around him.
Staring at you a moment, everything slowed down. He grew annoyed. Why would you say that to him—you didn’t know him. You had no way of knowing whether or not you could love him so why cut off the possibility? Would it really be so wrong? He would care for you. Far better than any of those Kim bastards ever could, anyway.
“Yoongi” You screamed, back slammed against the wall. His hands hovered over your shoulders, fingers hooked under the straps of your bra. Swiftly he pulled them off, allowing it to fall into a puddle on the floor, his shirt following. Yoongi simply chuckled, pushing two fingers down your throat.
Yoongi pulled his fingers out, smirking slightly at the way your eyes quivered. He slid his hand down your body, under your panties so he could paint your quivering cunt with his wet fingers. He watched you carefully as he drew small, tight circles on your clit. His other hand on your neck, thumb tilting your chin up to face him.
“Yoongi stop” Your voice was tiny, almost afraid. The sound only made his heart pound.
“Fuck no” He growled. He dipped his fingers into your cunt, allowing his palm to flatten as you unconsciously grinded your hips against it. Curling his finger, he pumped in and out of you—your eyes rolling back. His lips going down your chest, dragging your bra down with his teeth till he could round his lips over your tender nipples.
A loud moan left your lips, causing him to hiss. Pulling his finger out he turned you around, pushing your chest against the wall before gripping your panties and tearing them in two. It burned against your skin, a dizzying sensation in your head as you heard the fabric rip. Immediately he pumped two fingers back inside, teeth grazing over your shoulders. His belt unlatched, you felt his hard cock slap against your ass. He pushed you down, bending you over with a hand tight on your neck, holding you steady.
“Who the fuck do you think you are huh? You came onto me, bitch. You don’t call the shots anymore, I do” You whimpered as his thick head pushed in. He lifted you onto his cock, chest pressed up tight against yours—looking nowhere except deep into your eyes.
You sank down so perfectly. Your tight walls hot against his pulsing length. Your legs wrapped around his waist so tight he could barely move. It was emotional, the way you held onto him as he rolled his hips, pulsing into you. Staggered breaths. Sweat on his forehead.
Harder. His hips jerked at the sound of your pussy, dripping out with his every move. Your eyes blasted with lust—lips parted, so incredibly fucked out with pleasure it had him salivating. Pretty little moans as he fucked into you.
Tight. Fast. Lost in your sensation. Eyes rolling to the back of his head.
His lips nipped at your jaw, tasting the sweat glazed over your skin.
“Where can I come?” His voice was hoarse. Low and broken with need. You stilled yourself, sliding off of his throbbing cock until you found your feet and stood. Within seconds you slid to your knees, mouth wide open—eager to please.
He swore you had never looked more beautiful.
He admired your face. Lips swollen, pressing his flushed tip between them, eyes wide with a false innocence. Swiping the drool away from the edge of your lips. You let your tongue wrap around his length, cautiously, exploring across his veins, watching his reactions as you tightened your cheeks around him.
Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, hissing as you began to bob your head up and down. Sloppy, saliva dripping everywhere, the obscene sounds exemplified by you taking him throat-deep, gagging all over. He chanted like a mantra, “Just like that…fuck…just like that”
Both hands on his base, you worked him vigorously, enjoying his throaty moans echoing throughout the room. He bucked his hips, tugging at your jaw as he pushed further down your throat. “Always so good to me”
His hand moved to your forehead, his grip on your head leading you along his shaft, urging you to go faster. He thrusted his hips forwards, forcing you to take him all the way. Fucking your face roughly.
“You can take it, I know you can baby come on” Back and forth, he pulled his cock all the way out, letting you catch your breath before stuffing you full once again. You squealed around him, smacking your lips, pouring yourself into your movements.
Every fiber of his body shuddered as he came, twitching and jerking as he spilled deep in your throat. You licked up every last drop.
He dreaded the silence that followed the beautiful storm. He pulled you into an embrace before you could think too card. Laying you down, peppering you with kisses. Loving ones.
He didn’t know you, and you didn’t know him.
But he wanted to change that. He wanted to fight.
He nuzzled into your neck. Sweet. You blinked back tears. He saw this, growing concerned. “Baby I—I didn’t mean to be rough”
You shook your head, sniffling. “It’s not you I just” The tears spilled down your cheeks. Yoongi’s heart wrenched, reaching to wipe them away. His touch endearing. “I don’t want to hurt you”
Yoongi pressed his lips against yours. Long, sweetly. A tired, exasperated kiss that seemed to say you’re incredibly, utterly perfect.
“I just don’t make promises I can’t keep”
You had cast a spell on him and he was undoubtedly cursed.
The next morning, Kim Seokjin had arrived at the suite. The broad man appeared much friendlier in person than the magazine shoots he had seen him in with his infamous mother. Likely his same age, he was undeniably handsome. Brown eyes that incited mischief, yet with a softness that was almost genuine.
Almost.
You had answered the door, wearing a fluffy casino robe. Unphased when you saw your dear friend. He looked at you briefly, before his eyes shifted to Yoongi who was still in bed.
“Morning princess” Tone was steady, smile evident, but Yoongi could see the irritation in his eyes.
“Hey” You greeted him politely. “Did you need something?”
Jin’s gaze was locked on Yoongi. “Actually, I’m here to talk to him” You seemed to pout. “Don’t worry, it’s just work stuff. Give us a minute, okay?”
Reluctantly, you wandered off.
Jin painted another smile on his face, entering the room. He walked up to where Yoongi had stepped out of bed. “Yoongi—right? I’ve heard great things about the tips you bring in”
There it was. The tricky power games that were synonymous with Kim Seokjin’s reputation.
“Yes sir”
Jin grinned at his attitude. “Now, Yoongi. Man to man. Where do you see this” He gestured his hand, “Going?”
Yoongi pursed his lips. He knew getting involved with these kinds of people was always complicated. But he was in too deep. He wasn’t going to give up on you just over some baseless threats. What he really wanted to know—was how the fuck Jin knew where you were? Was this motherfucker having you followed?
“She came onto me, sir”
“Oh I know” Jin chuckled, “She was nursing a broken heart, poor thing. My idiotic brother crushed her, so she’s acting out”
Namjoon. Yoongi recalled.
Jin’s gaze was intense—serious now, in contrast to his playfulness earlier. “I want you to understand something, Yoongi.” He took a seat on the bed. Leaning back, his hair flipped over his forehead. “I’m allowing this. For now.”
“Sir”
“There will be a time where I’ll need you to back off. And you’ll do it, otherwise your dean is going to get an interesting phone call”
Yoongi swallowed thickly. He didn’t like being threatened. How could you live like this? Did these guys interfere in every part of your life?
“Yes sir” He responded, humbly. Jin seemed satisfied.
“One last thing” Jin stood up, brushing the dust off of the lapel of his designer suit. He rest his hand on Yoongi’s bare shoulder. Skin cold to touch. Grip firm. “Hurt her, and I will kill you”
You made your way back eventually, noticing Yoongi’s shifted demeanor.
“Sorry, I know Jin is a lot sometimes” You kissed him, crawling into his lap where he sat, defeated. “He’s just looking out for me. We’re like best friends”
Yoongi scoffed. How naïve could you be? He knew crazy when he saw it, and that man was no friend of yours. He looked at you, eyes softening once he saw how cutely you were grinning.
“I’m glad he approved” You beamed at him. “This means, we can like, actually hang out…if you want”
God, of course he did. He would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked. Interestingly, Jin was welcome to Yoongi after that day. You would bring him along on weekend getaways, Monaco, Bali, Paris and Milan. Jin would be there, occupied by his own vices while you and Yoongi got lost in a honeymoon haze. Sharing your darkest thoughts under the eastern sunrise, to hushed confessions under the northern stars. He learned you. Knew you like the back of his hand. Your quirks, likes, irritations and dreams.
“You’ve seriously never had feelings for him?” He asked you one day. You made a face.
“I’ve only ever loved Namjoon” Ouch.
Yoongi was skeptical. Frankly because Yoongi knew you were in love with him from the way your eyes would light up talking about him. Your memories from childhood, or the intimate laughs the two of you would share. You followed him like a little lamb, adapting his crazy lifestyle and engaging with his elitist friends. And after the glimmering lights would go down, you’d make your way to Yoongi, who was…
What was he?
A dog. You had him on a leash, Jin had him in a cage. He was a mutt allowed to you out of pity, to distract you from the real things that were controlling your life. Yoongi’s job was to give you a semblance of control. A sexual outlet, a shoulder to lean on.
And Yoongi hated you. Hated who you were around Jin and hated that no matter what he did, Jin would be a huge part of your life. Even if he did somehow, miraculously, make you fall in love with him, make you feel for him what he did for you without a doubt—Jin would still have control. Yoongi was useless in his shadow. It enfuriated him. Drove him mad. What lengths would he have to go to get you? What would it take for Kim Seokjin to back the fuck off and let you live your own life?
But your life was never your own. And now here he was, all the loyalty paid off into dust as he tended the bar at your engagement party. It was ridiculous. Did he truly mean so little to you—that he wasn’t even a guest? Let alone the fact that it infuriated him you had to marry one of these twisted, god-awful Kim boys against your will.
In front of him, the man of the hour—the so-called Kim Taehyung, sat with a dirty smirk on his face, eyes drilled onto the pair of die rolling in his palm.
“So”
It was in the job description. Make conversation with the guests. Yoongi had been around long enough to know how to make men like Kim Taehyung feel great about themselves, in more ways than one.
“Been a while since you’ve been home huh”
He set down the shaker, straining the drink mix into a margarita glass with a slight flick of his wrist. Taehyung watched the steady pour of the liquid.
“Absolutely” He smiled, although Yoongi could tell it was fake. “I had to come home. See my family—my brothers. After all,” He flashed his forearm at Yoongi, where the Kim crest was neatly tattooed, same as his brothers.
Yoongi squinted. He knew about the tattoo. He had seen it, both on Namjoon and Jin. He knew they got it after their mother died. But as far as he knew, Taehyung had left at a fairly young age, not keeping in contact with his family. Taehyung hadn’t been around for his mother’s death.
Right? Yoongi pursed his lips. Taking another look, he watched Taehyung carefully. Round eyes, thick lips, small fingers in which the dice rolled.
He looked familiar. Yoongi swore he must have seen this man somewhere before. He knew nothing of where Taehyung had been for the past ten years. According to you, no one did.
“Please excuse me,” Nodding politely, Yoongi rushed off into the storage room. Grabbing his phone, he googled the man you were about to get engaged to.
Kim Taehyung.
Nothing.
Nothing at all—not even so much as a media article on the engagement. No photographs, nothing.
But I know I’ve seen you somewhere.
He went to his own camera roll, scrolling aimlessly in an attempt to jog his memory. Would it have been school? The casino? He couldn’t figure it out.
Until he saw it.
A group picture. From a dinner one of his professors had invited him to. There he was—Kim Taehyung.
Except there was no way, Yoongi would have remembered if he met someone with that name. Was he going by an alias? Who was he?
Dialing his professor, he gulped the sour bitterness in his mouth.
“Yoongi? Odd time to be calling—is everything alright?” His professor greeted him kindly.
“Hi sir. Sorry about that I just have a quick question. That dinner you invited us out to…there was another person there who was not a student. Could I know their name?”
His professor chuckled, “Oh, sure. That was Park Jimin—he was a student of mine who now runs a private practice, pretty upscale clients apparently.”
Hanging up abruptly, Yoongi ran back out to the bar.
Yoongi didn’t like anything about it. But he had little time to ponder over it when suddenly you walked in, and he swore his heart stopped.
He couldn’t breathe.
Because it finally hit him. Had he told you everything he held inside? Had he made sure he savored every last second he had you? He couldn’t think. His mind went blank, red with rage—even moreso when Taehyung stood up in front of him and went to go see you.
He watched as he pulled you onto the dance floor—you hate dancing, Yoongi thought to himself. He watched as the man touched you, the lust in his eyes shamelessly evident.
He felt like throwing up. He prayed and prayed that you would stop. He wanted you to get away from him, he wanted you to be in his arms.
And his prayers were answered, as the ceremony was brought to a startling halt.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Kim Seokjin”
Yoongi’s eyes darted towards the small ensemble of law enforcement that pushed through the crowd towards you, led by a man in a dark coat. Handcuffs clicked around your wrists and you were being dragged out. Yoongi ran to the entrance before they could take you—reaching out with assurance
“Y/n—listen to me” Your eyes were void of emotion. Frozen with complete and utter shock at the news. “Don’t say anything without a lawyer okay? I will meet you at the station with bail money”
You nodded slowly, but Yoongi wasn’t convinced you had heard him.
You were gone. Arrested. Yoongi spun around to scan the crowd—it was a critical time after all. Where was Namjoon? Yoongi looked on, searching for the Kim heir who was nowhere to be seen. His eyes landed instead on Taehyung who stood in the middle of the dance floor, a small tug at the edge of his lips.
Playing with those goddamn dice.
-
Jungkook’s mind went blank when he saw you. Breath quite literally stolen from his lungs. Never in a million years would he admit just how pretty you looked tonight. The soft fabric of your engagement dress fell against your body just right. Your face glowed, glitter on your eyes. Diamond choker on your neck—simple and yet dazzling.
Your lips were his favorite. Plump and glossy pout on your bored face. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to tear it all off and ruin you.
Jungkook wasn’t cruel. He didn’t intend on arresting you in front of everyone. But the vile jealousy that built in his chest when he saw the way your fiancée, Kim Taehyung, sweep you onto the dance floor—he couldn’t help it.
The burning sight of Taehyung’s hands on your waist, face a breath away from yours, lips so close to your neck. The way he looked at you—way you looked at him. You barely knew this man—how could you look at him like that?
He had to stop it. Fists clenching he decided to arrest you then and there. The way your face fell when you saw him was priceless. You seized up at his touch, the soft click of the cuffs around your wrists where your ringless fingers lay limp. Slow, shaky, tears budding in your eyes but never spilling.
Oh how he would love to see you cry.
The moment he had you outside, all hell broke loose. You were livid. Dragging your ankles into the ground like a little brat. Rolling his eyes, Jungkook decided it would be far easier to toss you over his shoulder rather than continue putting up with your antics.
“Put me down you fucking asshole, I didn’t do this!” You screamed, kicking your pointy heels into his back. “Where the fuck is Namjoon huh? Why aren’t you arresting him, if anyone had motive—”
Jungkook suppressed an urge to snap back at you. Setting you down harshly, he pinned you against the side of his car, forearm by your cheek.
He paused, looking deep into your eyes. The rise and fall of your chest calling him closer. You glared at him with such spite. Such disgust. The thought of planting his lips on yours crossed his mind. Put that all that pent up anger to good use.
“Fuck you Jeon Jungkook” You hissed, your hot breath against his cheek. “I’m gonna get you thrown off this fucking case you piece of shit”
“That’s enough” His fingers gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him, “Do you really think any other officer in there is going to take on a case to arrest Kim Namjoon for murder? This is my chance to finally tear that stupid family to pieces and I’m not letting a spoilt little cunt like you get in my way”
Jungkook hadn’t realized how loud his voice got by the end. You looked petrified, nodding slowly. His heart squeezed as he could see a tear forming at the corner of your eye.
He let you go. Shit. Your best friend had died. You likely were just hearing about it. Clearly in denial or putting on a brave face for him. For the crowds. Turning away, he opened the door.
“Just get in”
Huffing, you did as he said, slamming the door closed. Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as he looked over at you again. A tear finally spilled from your eyes, causing Jungkook’s heart to jump. Dammit. Reaching nervously into his coat, he pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to you.
His fingers brushed against yours as you took it. Your skin was cold—instinctively he grabbed your hand. You flinched at his touch, pulling away but Jungkook grabbed it again, tightly, pulling it back towards him. His hold unwavering.
“I am sorry for your loss” Jungkook’s eyes softened with something bordering concern. Gulping he released your hand, diverting his gaze. A reluctant blush painting his cheeks.
Jungkook knew you weren’t his culprit. As much as he loathed you, he had no vested interest in your demise. You were collateral damage. Unfortunately for him, the Kim’s had police tucked deep in their silver lined pockets. He had to be careful. Someone was always watching.
Clearing his throat, he put the car in drive, pushing the temperature higher to help you warm up. Turning out of the parking lot, he figured he should try and get some information off record before everything you would say would literally get used against you.
“Where were you last night?”
You scoffed. “You’re not getting a fucking word out of me.”
God, he forgot what a pain in the ass you could be. Spoilt brat. “Y/n” Jungkook’s voice was stern. “I can make your life hell, or I can help you. And trust me, I’m not someone you want as an enemy”
You chuckled bitterly, “Yeah because otherwise you’d be fucking obsessed with me like you are with the Kim’s”
He slammed his hand against the wheel. “Answer the damn question, Y/n”
“Getting ready for my engagement—which you crashed, by the way”
Jungkook’s tongue rolled against his cheek. “You didn’t want to marry Kim Taehyung, did you?” He needed to know. Needed to be sure you didn’t actually care for that man.
You grinned. “Why, you jealous?”
He looked you dead in the eye. “Yes”
That shut you up. Jungkook bit back a smile as you processed his response. “Enough with the attitude. Who was making you do this—was it Jin?”
You groaned, tugging at your handcuffs in irritation. “No, it was Namjoon.”
Jungkook pursed his lips. That wasn’t true. He debated if he should tell you now or wait until you reached the precinct so you could see it with your own eyes. He had hard evidence that painted Namjoon even more so as the culprit.
Jin wanted you to marry Taehyung.
Namjoon didn’t.
⟶ One Day before the Murder ⟵
The scratch of a record. A soft echo of jazz filled the glass walls as Namjoon stood, staring out the window. The 52nd floor. Looking out at people scurrying in the dark, small as ants, truly meaningless. His employees thought he was given this office, unaware of the blood spilt for him to truly position himself as the inheritor of Kim Enterprises.
Namjoon was forged in the shadows of the charming, alluring Kim Seokjin. And Kim Seokjin was gold—magazines chased him, models threw themselves at him, colleges begged for him to attend. To the world, Jin was perfect. Which meant Namjoon had to ascend perfection.
So he did.
Jin would spend his nights partying while Namjoon would study hard. Seokjin would sleep around while Namjoon ran for miles. Seokjin would get lost in the limelight, drugs, alcohol, sex—Namjoon abstained. He was focused on one thing: he wanted his throne.
The 52nd floor was his right. The cage he had built for himself. Here he was untouchable.
Here he felt, absolutely broken. Alone. Moreso because he had spent the day preparing for your wedding. His heart ached inside his chest. He wanted to vomit. Each time he’d see your name on a wedding card or an article, he felt like he was getting brutally stabbed in the chest.
You probably didn’t know. Of course you didn’t—but Namjoon had grown truly fond of you lately. Jin had moved out at a young age, wanting to freely bring home sexual partners. You and Namjoon remained living at the Kim mansion for a few years now. The two of you had a banter—ever since the night he took advantage of you, he knew you no longer had feelings for him. He had seen the way you changed after that. While he was ridden with guilt, the hurt made you blossom into someone else entirely. You became confident, sexy, and never let a day go by that Namjoon didn’t regret treating you better.
He kept you at a distance because he needed to stay focused, but things were getting too real now. You were getting married.
You were leaving him.
And he only recently admitted to himself that he loved living with you. He loved the way you would bug him while he worked. Loved the way you would throw little tantrums when you couldn’t figure out what to wear, or after a shopping spree you would come home and try on everything for him, ignoring anything he would have to say. He would miss walking past your room to see you lying on your sheets, blanket on the floor, pillow tucked in your hold—sound asleep. He’d pick it up and cover you, admiring your face as he did.
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”
Like a punch in the gut, Namjoon let out a sharp breath. Turning, he faced his college friend, Jung Hoseok.
Namjoon hated being vulnerable. So Hoseok was a great friend to have—because he was hardly ever in town, being a self-made supermodel. He was low risk. Disposable.
“No” Namjoon grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Hoseok chuckled, seating himself on Namjoon’s desk chair. He was wearing a bright blue jumpsuit—hair a shocking silver white.
“I can’t tell you how many bets I have that you’d fall for her one day. Damn, I’m gonna be rich”
Namjoon rolled his eyes, “I didn’t fall for her. I don’t give a shit about her”
Hoseok scoffed, “Mhm, sure. What I don’t get is why this fucking wedding is happening. You’re the heir now can’t you call it off? Don’t marry the woman you love off to your brother, that’s just fucked up man”
There were many times he wanted to tell you the truth. But he had worked too hard to give up his dream for you. When his mother died, Jin had agreed to surrender his birth-right to the company on two conditions.
“In exchange for the company, one of the things I had to promise Jin was that this marriage would happen”
Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He rubbed his chin, “Interesting. What’s that about?”
Namjoon shrugged, turning back to the window. It was something he often wondered. If Jin cared about you so much—why would he force you to have an arranged marriage? To Taehyung, of all people. Taehyung who none of them had seen for over ten years. Taehyung whose whereabouts only Jin knew. And his mother, of course.
“I don’t know. But I agreed” And he knew you wouldn’t forgive him for that if you knew. He rolled his neck, denying the tears building in his eyes as he thought about you in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle next to him as he let you go. Forever.
He didn’t want your hand to leave his. He wanted to be on the other side. He wanted you to come towards him.
“What was the other condition?” Hoseok’s voice shattered his fantasy.
“He wanted to keep Nexus—Y/n’s mom’s company that my mother got in the will. I didn’t give a shit about it so.”
Hoseok raised his eyebrows, smirking slightly. “Nexus, huh” He mumbled under his breath. Licking his lips, he pulled out his phone. “Kim Seokjin—just what are you up to you little bastard?”
Namjoon pulled out a cigarette from his breast pocket, lighting it quietly. Taking a quick puff, he exhaled the smoke.
"I can't let her do this" His voice was hoarse. "I can't do this to her. She deserves to choose"
Hoseok rolled his eyes, standing up and walking besides Namjoon. Pulling the cigarette from his fingers, he grinned widely.
"I thought you’re the smart one, Namjoon. Jin's the problem. Get rid of him"
It wasn't as if the idea never crossed his mind. Namjoon hated Jin. Everything about Jin make him want to vomit, and yet, this was a line he couldn't cross.
Could he?
-
“All in”
Jin cursed inwardly. Your long fingernails traced along the edge of your cards, eyes flickering between your hand and the man in front of you. Dim casino lights accentuating the glitter on your lids, the pop of your lush lips which were grinning ever so slightly. You always looked gorgeous to him but tonight you were something else entirely.
His breath was heavy, palms sweating as he clenched his fists in desperation to keep it together. To keep his hands off. You blinked his way, innocently as if you were unaware of the teasingly low cut of your dress. The spill of your chest as you pushed your chips towards him.
As if that wasn’t enough. You laid your cards down right in front of him. Sliding them across the table. Pair of kings.
Jin didn’t even care. You would always win. And he loved that about you. It was as though you knew his thoughts before he even had them, always one step ahead, reading between the lines. You were a force to be reckoned with ever since Jin first took you to a backroom poker game years ago. With pride he’d observe your nonchalance—sending bratty chaebols running to their mother’s in tears after you swindled them out of their trust funds.
Seeing you at the table was something else. When you were in your element, your eyes would light up with a fierce blaze. With a slight of hand, you turned thousands into millions overnight. But you were never in it for the money.
You were in it for the kill.
“Fuck this, come here” Tossing his own cards aside, he beckoned for you to come to him. He needed to touch you. He couldn’t hold back.
Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you into his lap. Your scent was intoxicating. Familiar, and yet addictive. He placed his lips softly against your neck. You giggled, pulling away but he wasn’t about to let that happen.
“When did you get so pretty?” His finger trailed up your neck, tilting your chin up. Things had been tense between the two of you. The soft touches, the lingering stares—he was flirting with you. He knew he was, but he wanted to. So badly he wanted to tease you, rile you up and watch you unfold. It had taken every ounce of his self-restraint not to touch you in the shower that morning—something which hadn’t left his mind since.
“I’ve always been pretty” Your response was cocky, as expected. “You’re usually too drunk to notice”
“That” He nipped at your jaw between each word, making you giggle in the process “Is not true”
He allowed his fingers to aimlessly brush against your thighs. He looked at you enticingly, nothing but mischief on his mind. He pinched the fabric of your dress between his fingers, wanting to tear the damn thing off. Your hand covered his, halting him in his tracks.
“Tell me you don’t like it and I’ll stop” He sighed into your skin, tongue licking under your jaw. Your sweet skin was addicting to taste, and it didn’t help that he could feel you trembling in his hold. You were confused, he knew you were. But he could see that you wanted him. He could feel it.
He hugged you closer—chest to chest, feeling the drum of your heart on his. He wanted to fuck you so bad it hurt. He was so sure he had never been attracted to you this way. Of course he loved you, there was never any question about it. But you had been like a sister to him your whole life. Lately he found himself wanting you in a way he shouldn’t. He couldn’t.
Because you were getting engaged to his younger brother. And he had known that all along.
“Jin,” Your voice was barely a whisper, “Why?” It was a valid question. One he was not ready to answer. His advances had hardly been subtle.
“You said I wasn’t giving you enough attention. So here we are. Just me…” His finger trailed up your thigh, “you” From the table, he pulled out a single card, twisted between two fingers which he slid down the side of your face before pulling it away so sharply, a drop of blood trickled from your cheek.
“And a deck of cards” He leaned in, lips brushing against the tiny cut in a soft peck.
“Stop fucking around Jin” Standing up from his lap, you looked him dead in the eye. “I’m getting married to Taehyung. Your brother, who you love.”
Jin tilted his head in irritation. He absolutely hated being told no, it wasn’t something he typically had to deal with. Frustration boiled in his veins, the confusion so overwhelming it made his head spin.
The reality that he was falling for you. Hard.
He gulped, staring at you. Eyes softening as silence filled the air. He felt choked, throat gripping in anticipation of what he should say next—if he would actually say what he knew you both were feeling out loud.
There was a knock on the door. Instinctively, Jin grabbed your wrist, holding it firmly.
“Mr. Kim, you have a phone call”
The door opened, allowing one of Jin’s guards to walk in and hand him his cell. You motioned to excuse yourself, mouthing the word 'bathroom'.
Jin nodded, pressing the cell to his ear.
“Mr. Kim,”
The distorted voice through the phone gave him chills. His heart pounded through his head, veins pulsing with anger.
“Did you forget about me?”
He glanced at his guard—whose eyes were questioning him with worry. He tensed his shoulders before nodding at his guards softly, indicating for them to act accordingly.
“You’re making this too easy Kim. Shouldn’t leave your most prized possession unattended. I could just snap her pretty neck”
Jin could only hear his own racing pulse. Anxiety gripping his chest with desperation—you couldn’t be in danger. He had no idea the chaos that would ensue if there was even a scratch on your body under his watch.
“Then again, I’d much rather snap yours”
Jin lunged forward, a mere millisecond before a bullet shot through, piercing his guard in the gut. The man fell over, not before two more guards arrived in a panic. Blood began to pool on the dark red carpet. It was almost despicable how the color matched.
Jin felt dizzy, his body acting purely on instinct where his mind simply couldn’t catch up. He could feel a heaviness in his throat, but now was not the time. Where were you—you went to the bathroom—he had to get you out of here— and so he ran. Faster than he ever had. Mind empty except for the need to keep you safe.
Slipping quickly through the hall, Jin rushed over to the bathroom, locked from the inside. He pounded against the door, a sweat breaking across his forehead. What if—no. Don’t think like that.
He shuddered, imagining the worst. Throwing himself at the door, he screamed out in frustration.
“Y/n!” He never used your name. Not unless it was serious. “It’s me, we need to go, now” He paused, catching his breath as he heard the lock click from the inside. The door swung open and there you were, a disoriented look on your face.
“What’s going on—” Without so much as a second thought, Jin grabbed your wrist, pulling you through a back exit—ignoring the blaring fire alarms that went off as he kicked the door open. His guards pulled a car around.
Settling in the back seat with you glued to his side, he barked at his guards “Safehouse, now”
He was trembling. Not even realizing how tightly he was still holding your hand. So lost that he didn’t hear you calling his name frantically—“Jin what the fuck is going on?”
A shaky exhale left his lips at your words. Almost out of sheer desperation he turned, pulling you into his lap where he cupped your face. You were so close. Close enough that he could almost taste the sweat on your neck. You held him, allowing his hands to roam your body in assurance that you were alive. That you were okay.
He tried not to entertain the thought. To appreciate that you had survived, but his mind couldn’t help but wander as he gazed into your sweet eyes—what the fuck would he have done if something had happened to you?
His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips. He gulped. He needed you. Tempted to slam his lips onto yours, but instead just breathing you in, letting his eyelashes brush against your face. Holding you in a tight embrace. Tears rolling down his face.
It was as though in that moment, everything became so clear. For a moment he swore that nothing made more sense than you in his arms. You consumed him. You were a fever, he woke up burning, went asleep in sweats—he craved you, like a man on the brink of insanity. If this was love, he wanted to drown in it. He couldn’t breathe—not if you weren’t besides him. You were beautiful, flawed, and simply everything he ever wanted.
“I can’t—”
He choked on a sob, looking at you again. There was more said in those two simple words. Everything he needed to communicate, and he knew you would understand “Princess, I can’t”
The tears fell harder. His walls came crashing down, all he had held back seemed to overflow. The fear of losing you triggering so many pent up emotions that he couldn’t take it. His body trembled.
“Fuck” He cried out in frustration, almost tasting your lips against his own. Fingers tightly intertwined in your hair. He didn’t have it in him anymore. He couldn’t hold back.
Except he had to.
“Jin,” Your tone shifted. He understood it—it was pleading. Your eyes were wide with confusion, with want. Your lips—your sweet lips, he could only image how amazing they would feel. The world would fade away in an instant and he would be lost in your touch. He would kiss you everywhere. All night long. He would never let go.
His breath was shaky, cutting his desire to cry harder. Letting his eyes fall shut, he pushed you off of him, turning his back towards you. He could hear you scoff and swore his heart shattered. He didn’t want to hurt you. He was equally perplexed at how quickly his love for you and surfaced within the past few days. It had been there all along, but now that you were forbidden, it came pouring out of his every move.
He shook his head. There was no point in starting something that couldn’t be finished. If he were honest with you, you would end up getting hurt in the worst way possible. If you knew all the lies he had told you, all the secrets he kept. All the ways in which he used you as a puppet for his own gain. Jin wasn’t proud of who he was. And surely, you deserved better.
“I’m sorry” The words hung heavy in the thick, disappointing silence. The tension throbbing in his veins as the drive continued on in the dark night.
The second the car pulled into the safehouse, you pushed yourself off of him—jumping out of the car. Jin followed as you began to run—grabbing your wrist before you could.
“Let go of me” You hissed, tugging at his grip.
“No” With a jerk of his arm he pulled you towards him.
Cricked chirped in the dead of the night—there was no living soul for miles. The stars shone brightly through the chilly wind and there you were.
Kissing him.
-
⟶ Years before the murder ⟵
“Tell me about the dice”
Back & forth. The steady creaking of the bed as the patient sat, curled up into himself. Across the room Jimin sat, waiting, observing. The patient was staring into the palm of his hand. Two red die, rolling around in his palm.
He had been at it for a while, not uttering a single word. But Jimin was trained for this. He was nothing if not patient. He could dig at his patient for hours until he would get them to bend to his will. Persistence, determination, delayed gratification, these things came to him easily.
Jimin cleared his throat, “Nurses are telling me you throw a fit when they try to take those away from you. It must bring you a lot of comfort”
The patient continued to ignore him.
“I understand you are very fond of playing cards” Jimin flipped through his files. “Want to tell me about that? Do you like gambling?”
The patient stilled his wrist, closing his long fingers over the dice. “She gave them to me”
Jimin raised his eyebrows. Finally. He was breaking through to him. He was so close to getting what he needed he was practically salivating. So close to getting all the information he needed.
He set his notebook aside, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at his patient with sincerity. He was careful with the way he spoke, never wanting his patients to feel patronized, judged or scrutinized. He needed his patients to trust him. To confide in him without holding anything back.
“Why don’t you tell me about her, Taehyung?”
⟵|| previous || next ||⟶
series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks
hi everyone here's this weeks list with some more of my absolute favourites, from now on I'll be doing individual lists for each member so I'm still deciding whether to post monthly lists of what I have been reading or just continue with the favourites lists... Yoongi and Taehyung's lists are almost complete so I will post them in the week along with Jungkook and Jins. Majority of the fics contain smut so no minors allowed. Please go and show these authors love and support they are truly amazing and deserve it ♡ feel free to recommend me some fics as well I would love to hear from you so share some of your favourites too especially if it's angst I'm a sucker for angst :)
s- smut a- angst f- fluff
series
Undo by @moonnightyoongi f s a (cheating au)
clandestine by @junghelioseok f s (best friends brother au)
the turing test by @fortunexkookie f s a (android au)
they don’t love you like i love you by @yeojaa f a (exes)
prove a point by @mercurygguk f (Dad jk established relationship au)
play date by @mercurygguk (dad jk)
purple hair dye by @mercurygguk s (established relationship au) ↬jk with purple on the set of buttter need I say more people!!)
black dye by @mercurygguk s (established relationship au)
lost stars by @hueseok f a (roommate au enemies to lovers au)
after midnight by @gyukult f s a (fuck boy jk friends with benefits au)
lovefool by @citrustan f s a
instant gratification by @dovechim s (fuck boy jk)
all I've got by @btsjeonjazz f s a (bad boy jk)
stolen dances by @taeyohonic f s a (ceojk best friend jk my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses)
(he)art thief by @latetaektalk f a
Umbrella by @skitsoulmaty f a (strangers to lovers au)
all that glitters by @aquagustd f s a (unrequited love au college au)
one-shot
lucid dream by @growlingyu a (break up au infidelity)
heartbreak veterans by @hueseok f a (strangers to lovers au)
I'm yours by @hueseok (arranged marriage au)
kiss it better by @jincherie s (college/uni au cheerleader!jk pining)
way down in bed stuy by @minstrivia s a (infidelity jk's the oc's sisters boyfriend)
dont go by @jkstompers f a (roommate au)
even a forest fire dies out by @9uk s a (ex-boyfriend jk)
proposals by @pjxmin f s a (friends to lovers)
after hours by @ggukcangetit s
roses, poetry and jeon by @seraphimguks f a (enemies to lovers au)
rented hearts by @army-author f (rent-a-girlfriend au)
beg by @jinfizz f s a (friends to lovers au)
Lock and key by @farfromsugafanfic f a (best friends to lovers)
(not) just friends by @taecalikook f s (friends to lovers au fuck boy jk)
forget him by @yoonpobs a (unrequited love au)
little black book: your kindred spirit by @bluewhale52 s
just one kiss by @bangtsblossom f s
lose somebody by @kooala s a (exes to lovers au)
to all the men i've fucked before by @hisunshiine f s a
heavy metal by @hisunshiine s (fuck buddies)
series
A lovely little mess by @justimajin f s a (friends to lovers au) ft. Jungkook
one-shot
carnival rides by @geniuslab f s (summer carnival au)
last christmas by @xjoonchildx s (exes to lovers au)
perfect by @btssmutgalore f s a (roommate au friends to lovers au)
mine for today by @httpjeon s (fake dating au)
want sum f*ck? by @borathae s (fuck boy jin college au)
Aperitivo by @bangtanbetchfics f s (chef jin chef jk) ft. Jungkook 🤭
home run @jinned f a ft. Jungkook
the courtship chronicles by @gukyi f a (friends to lovers au fake dating au)
start a new by @gukyi f a (exes au)
fire and desire by @joonbird s with some drama (fuck boy jin)
synopsis: you only see seokjin once a year, so you have to make sure your visit counts.
p: seokjin x reader
wc: 6.8k
genre/rating/au: 18+ | sugar daddy, est. rel. au | smut, fluff
warnings: dom seokjin, sub & bratty reader, pwp, dildos, masturbation, voyeur, size kink, there's a camera involved, lots of dirty talk, deep throat, hand kink, unprotected sex, overstimulation, breast play?, blindfold, light bondage, breathing control (asphyxiation), jin has a potty mouth and he's mean :(, lots of name calling :), multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, rough sex, delayed orgasm, facial, cum eating, creampies (yum), aftercare, the ending is mushy and cute :)
a/n: happy birthday to the love of my life ♥ thank you so much to @chelsea-chee for helping me out ;;
posted: 9 dec 2021
m.list | ao3
Every year around the holidays, without fail, you and Seokjin would meet up for a Christmas Rendezvous. It's the only time the two of you can see each other since he's so busy running his million-dollar business while you're busy doing… stuff. Not only was this a moment you've been waiting all year for, but you're determined to convince him to purchase a property in your city so he can drop in any time he wants without needing to rent a hotel.
This year, for your meeting, he’s chosen a fancy hotel by the mountains for you to enjoy the sights, though you doubt you’ll have time to check out any of the fancy amenities listed on the website. You and Seokjin tend to overplan, only for the both of you to never leave the comfort of your rooms because you're too busy tangled up in each other's arms.
When you arrived at the hotel, the concierge mentioned that there’s something waiting for you in the room, and sure enough, upon you walking in, you’re greeted by a giant stuffed teddy bear resting against the headboard on the bed with a note tucked between its paws. It’s black, plastic eyes shine in the dim winter sun, and it stares at you like it knows what horrors it's about to witness.
“Ready to play?” the note read in Seokjin’s bubble-like handwriting.
You bite back the smile of excitement. He mentioned in your texts leading up to the event to expect something special, because there’s an additional cause for celebration that’s not just his birthday plus the holidays.
You wanted to let him know that you’ve arrived, so you decide to send him a text that includes a photo of you and your gift. The problem is… the teddy bear is so big that you have a hard time fitting it in the frame for your picture. After a few tries, the only decent picture that comes out is one of you lying on the bear’s soft brown stomach with its nose peeking from the corner. Well, you’re sure Seokjin will get the ‘picture.’
You: I’m here ♥ Thanks for the bear.
It hasn’t even been a few seconds until you see that your message has been read, and the emergence of the three little dots that’s indicative of his reply.
SJ: Good. In the top drawer of your nightstand, you’ll find a blindfold.
SJ: I expect that when I come into the room, you’ll be nice and ready for me.
Turning towards the nightstand, you open the first drawer per Seokjin’s instruction and you find the familiar black satin fabric. You begin to discard your clothing and loop the blindfold around your head, but just before you place it over your eyes, you pause. Seokjin didn’t mention when it was he’s coming over. He just expected you to wait.
Well, that's not fun! Based on the website of the hotel, apparently there’s a hot spring somewhere in the lower levels that you wanted to dip your toes in. Since you can’t leave the room unless you’re looking for punishment, you decide to explore the room you’ll be occupying instead.
Judging from the large window in the bedroom that overlooks a crystal blue lake, this seems to be the “scenic room”, and you can’t help but stare in awe at the rippling water that looks like diamonds in the setting winter sun. To the right of the lake lies a mountain range, and you can see the few brave skiers going down the slopes, looking like miniature figurines in a diorama.
There's also a breakfast nook on the other end of the room. You don't recognize the lush flowers they've provided in the gorgeous dark green vase, but you can smell the sweet floral notes from where you're standing.
You hum as you walk towards the large door you saw on your way in. Behind the door is a bathroom, and it is already bigger than the living room in your apartment back home. A black marble bathtub lies in the centre of the tile floor, and not only does it look like it costs more than your one year of rent combined; it's big enough to fit the two of you with plenty of space to spare.
You have no doubt that he spent a pretty coin to reserve this room. But what surprises you most is how Seokjin found this area in the first place. From what you can tell, when he told you where you’ll be staying together, the town doesn’t seem to be listed in any map, which was why he had you picked up in a limousine that was filled with your favourite snacks and drinks for the lengthy trip.
As you make your way back to the bed, the realization hits you.
You forget who it is you’re dealing with! There's a good chance that Seokjin’s family owns this place, and not just the hotel either, but the entire area surrounding it. You definitely wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case. That slim black card in his wallet was his father's gift to him when Seokjin was only 10, and it has paid for a number of things in your life: from something as “trivial” as your college tuition, the expensive outfits and lingerie you brought with you, and down to this gigantic bear in your hotel room that takes up half of the king size bed.
Currently, you’re debating whether you should move all your outfits from your suitcase atop the chaise lounge to the antique wooden wardrobe on the other side of the room. Seokjin did mention that you’re going to be here for at least a week, although judging from your previous escapades, you’ll probably spend New Year’s wrapped up in his arms again.
You just started to unzip your suitcase when your phone chimes. It’s another message from Seokjin!
SJ: Shame. You’re not ready to play.
“Wait… what?” You stare at your phone at the weird message. You're decoding the meaning behind the text when you receive another one.
SJ: I won’t repeat myself for a second time. Get ready. Now.
Well, there’s no sense in arguing, though you are interested as to where Seokjin might be watching from. It’s not until you undo the last few buttons of your blouse that your eyes land on the bear. What are the odds that those beady eyes are actually camera lenses?
You quickly stripped yourself of your clothes until only the red lingerie is all you’re left in. Then, placing the loop of the blindfold between your lips, you crawl on the bed on all fours until you’re staring eye-to-eye with the bear. You squint at what you thought were soulless plastic beads. After closer inspection, you find it; the faintest blink of red that disappears as quickly as it comes. You were right. There is a camera hidden behind the left eye of your gift.
Two can play at this game. And if Seokjin wants a show, who are you to deny him one? Smirking, you tower over the plush before planting a kiss on the lens.
“Can you hear me, baby?” you test.
The ding of a message from your phone is proof that he could.
The smirk you wear stretches wider across your cherry-tinted lips. Time to enact your plan. You pull the bear by its legs so it lies horizontally on the bed. Shifting up, you straddle its face before lowering your hips until your clothed core meets the cold tip of its nose.
Oh. That feels good.
“Baby…” Throwing the lens a smirk, you secure the blindfold around your eyes. “I don’t want to wait," you pout, "So, I'm going to play right now."
As soon as you finish your sentence, your phone on your nightstand beeps again. Something tells you that hidden inside that text notification is a command for you to stop whatever you’re doing, but since he’s not here…
You rock your hips forward experimentally, shuddering when the bear’s nose bumps your clit. “Oh fuck…”
With quiet pants, you repeat the action, back and forth. Back and forth. The candy-cane patterned panties you’re wearing gradually grows wetter, your arousal seeping into the cream muzzle of the bear.
In response to your rebellion, the buzzing from your phone increases to a point where it vibrates itself off the nightstand. Still, you don’t stop, and instead, it fuels you to grind faster, harder, until you feel the telltale tingling in your spine.
Your hands grip the sides of the bear, using its ears as leverage to steady the head. You hope he's enjoying the view. “Seokjin, baby, are you watching?” you smirk.
The thrill of potentially disobeying him is exhilarating. Within the realms of technicality, you’re not breaking any rules. Seokjin just said to put the blindfold on and wait, which is exactly what you’re doing right now… just with the added bonus of possibly making yourself orgasm.
The embers quickly spread across your body, and the grip you have around the bear grows tighter. You can’t stop your moans, and they tumble out with careless abandon, growing louder and louder as your orgasm approaches.
“C-Can you hear me? I’m… ah, so fucking close! Baby, baby…” Your body is a forest fire. All your senses are heightened to that one specific point in your body. The world no longer exists, just you and a taut string, ready to snap at a moment’s notice. You’re close… so close. “I’m gonna—”
“Stop.”
The rocking of your hips freeze instantly at the familiar command that often haunts your dreams. In your blinded state, you swivel your head this way and that, trying to pinpoint where his voice is coming from. There’s no way he’s in the room… is there?
“S-Seokjin?” you call out meekly.
His voice sounded so cold, so furious.
At the silence that greets you, you try again. “Jin? Baby? Are you here with me?”
You don’t dare move, or even breathe, as you wait. Then it comes, the unmistakable click of his tongue, followed by the dull thump of his expensive leather shoes against the carpeted floor of the room. Shit.
"O-Oh, when did you get here?" You smile at the direction you think he's coming for.
He ignores your question. “What do we have here?” Seokjin asks instead. Though his words sound amused, you have a feeling he’s anything but.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you attempt a cheery attitude. “B-Baby… I’ve missed you so much! Are you finally here to play?”
Seokjin chuckles, but it’s not the high-pitched laughter you’re used to. No, it’s the one he reserves for when he’s disappointed in your antics; like he can’t believe your audacity.
You gasp when the familiar curl of his fingers wrap around your throat, his forefinger and thumb tilting your chin to the side. His other hand lands on your thigh, drumming his fingers on your skin.
“Bad girl,” he tuts, trailing his lips from the nape of your neck to your shoulder. “I told you explicitly what to do, and here you are disobeying me. What's worse is that you ignored my calls and texts with the phone I gave you.”
The hand on your thigh trails up and up, skirting around the lace edges of your underwear. “What should I do with a baby that can’t even listen to simple instructions, huh?”
You stay completely silent, a small hint of fear diluting your excitement.
Seokjin grazes his teeth along the shell of your ear. “What’s going on now, pet? Too scared to say anything? You were so loud before. Answer me. What shall I do with you tonight?”
“Wanna see you…” you whimper instead of answering his question.
Seokjin laughs in disbelief. “What makes you think you deserve to see me? No no. Not after that stunt you pulled that forced me out of my meeting. Decide on your punishment, baby; I’m giving you this chance because it’s Christmas, but also because I don’t think you’ll appreciate what I have planned for you.”
You attempt to quiet down the loud pounding of your heart with an inhale. It’s mercy, especially from him. “Spank m-me,” you manage to utter.
He hums against your skin. “Spanking? Isn’t that too boring? We’ve done that plenty of times before and it’s clear you don’t learn your lesson from it.” Seokjin pauses, and when you don’t object, he continues. “Well, since you don’t seem to have any other ideas, let’s go with my plan then.”
The cold air whooshes around you when Seokjin departs from your back, and upon release, you slump forward onto the bear. Whatever it was he has planned, you’re not sure you’ll survive.
When he returns, not long after you hear him sticking something to the floor, Seokjin removes the blindfold carefully, making sure it doesn’t tangle with your hair. You can’t help but smile, even when he’s upset with you, he’s still trying to make sure you’re unharmed.
“Okay, angel, seeing as you’re so eager to cum, get on the floor and show me.”
It takes you a few moments to adjust to the bright light. When the room no longer blinds you with white, you find yourself face-to-face with Seokjin. There's a flush of red across his cheeks and ears, a beautiful contrast to the navy vest he wears over his white shirt. God. You must look completely disheveled compared to him.
Seokjin's lips curl into a feline smile. He tucks your hair behind your ear as he whispers, "Are you done staring? Don't forget what you're supposed to do, pet."
Embarrassed, you pretend to not hear him, and instead your eyes find a dildo placed on the floor.
You purse your lips as you survey the toy. It looks pretty standard, although it’s a bit bigger than the normal dildos you’ve seen in sex shops. You’re not too keen on the silicone’s bright neon pink shaft, and the veins protruding along the sides look more comical than anything. But this is the task that Seokjin has assigned you to and even with your hesitance, you’re not about to say ‘no’.
After removing your panties, you take another glance at Seokjin, who smirks at you, before positioning your hips so that the tip of the dildo kisses your hole.
“Come on, get on with it.” Seokjin taps his foot impatiently on the carpet. “Put on a good show for me.”
After taking a deep breath, you slowly lower yourself onto the silicone toy. As the toy disappears inside you, a gasp leaves your lips at the slight burn from the stretch. Yeah, this was way bigger than any of the dildos you’ve tried previously; and maybe it’s because of your position, but the tip reaches further than what you’re used to as well.
“Oh… god…”
You’re filled to the brim, and you’ve barely taken up half of the toy. Thankfully, the cold silicone begins to warm up to your body’s temperature, and you moan as the first bursts of pleasure erupt in your head. You’re moving slow, allowing yourself to get used to the girth, but Seokjin seems displeased, his mouth turned downwards at your efforts.
With a click of his tongue, he rises from the bed to sit behind you on the floor, bunching the black satin fabric in his hands. Your vision disappears when he secures the blindfold over your head again.
After he makes sure that the blindfold won't come loose, he moves your hair to the side and plants a kiss on the nape of your neck, murmuring, "Do you love me?"
You sigh happily, leaning towards his touch. "You know I do. What's up with the question?"
Seokjin chuckles. "Oh, nothing at all." His large hands take hold of your hips, massaging you gently. You squeak when his grip turns forceful, his dull nails digging into your skin, but it doesn't compare to the scream you let out when Seokjin slams you down to the hilt.
“Fuck! Seokjin!” Your walls clench at the sudden intrusion, pinpricks of tears collecting in your eyes when he yanks you up. Your legs shake so badly that if it weren't for the tight hold he has over your hips, you'll surely buckle forward.
Seokjin seizes your jaw, his fingers digging into the flesh of your neck as he rasps harshly, “Didn’t I tell you to put on a show? Huh? Fucking hell. Are you too stupid to understand simple instructions now?”
"N-No…" you sob. "S-Seokjin… I can do it myself."
Using your hips, he pushes you back down onto the dildo, ignoring your whimpers and pleas. "I don't think so," he coos mockingly when your hands scratch over his palms as you beg him to stop. "I think after a year apart, my baby is too stupid to do anything without my help."
Seokjin doesn't need both hands to force you to ride the dildo, and he spits out taunt after taunt, each one meaner than the last. The other hand on your neck holds your head in place, and your neck is surely riddled with half-moon indents by the power of his grip. You’re left speechless as you're made to ride the dildo, there are only half-syllables of his name escaping every so often with how mushy your brain’s turning. With the brutal pace he sets, the burn from your walls stretching open takes a bit to fade into pleasure, but when it does, you're moaning loudly, slamming your hips down repeatedly on your own.
“That’s better,” Seokjin praises, removing his hand from your body to smooth out your hair. You whine when his large hand presses on your upper back, pushing you forward until your chest is parallel to the floor. “Okay, angel, keep riding that dildo and give me your hands. Don’t stop. Good girl.”
Seokjin secures your wrists behind you with a long piece of cloth. You continue to move per his instructions, but at this point your thighs are burning, especially without the support from your arms.
That dreaded click of his tongue reaches your ear again, and so you try to keep up with the momentum, but it’s only for a few more seconds until you falter again.
The grip around your hip tightens again, his nails digging into your skin. “Aww… what’s wrong, baby? Didn’t you want to cum?” Pleased with the results after testing the knot a few times, Seokjin picks you back up from the floor like a rag doll, and begins to move your body for you again.
Your limbs are screaming, the soreness spreading from your thighs, down your legs, turning them numb. Yet you follow his heed, bucking your hips with Seokjin as your conductor. “G-God… Too big…” you whine.
Seokjin sushes your complaints by slipping two of his fingers past your lips. “You can take it. That’s it. Good girl. Keep going.” he praises, kissing your shoulder. Saliva drips from your lips and down your chest as you swirl your tongue around his digits.
Without warning, Seokjin’s hand leaves your hip to draw circles on your clit, his praises unending as you move faster. You garble his name as your eyes flutter shut under the blindfold. The soreness in your thighs is forgotten as you chase your high, climbing higher and higher with each second that passes you by.
Seokjin rips his fingers away from your mouth to unclasp the bra you’re wearing. His wet digits swirl around your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his forefinger and thumb, and your spine curves from the dull pain.
“Look at these gorgeous tits,” he groans, pinching your nipple not unkindly. “Your nipples are so fucking hard. Do you feel good, baby?”
“Very… good,” you gasp. “I’m close—”
Everything inside of you is hot – an unchecked flame spreading like wildfire as you keep edging to the brink of madness. The tingling in your spine returns; a delicious warning to your downfall.
“Cum for me, baby. Soak this carpet, yeah?”
“Fuckfuckfuck, Seokjin!” you screech.
Your body shakes with the force of the orgasm, the spine tingling sensation causing your head to swim like you’re thrown into another dimension. Yet the blinding light doesn’t cease because Seokjin’s still going; his hand returning to your hips as he forces you to pick up the pace again.
“Shit… Seokjin… I can’t…”
He laughs aloud at your words. “You can’t? My little fucking brat… Didn’t you say you wanted to cum? I’m giving it to you right now and you’re telling me you can’t?”
No, no, no. Not like this. You’re going to break if he keeps going. Yet your body continues to absorb every brutal impact; every drag of the toy against your walls, and soon the familiar knot returns to your stomach.
“Fuuuck!” you scream. Your bound hands shake behind you in an attempt to break free, but Seokjin’s rope tricks keep the knot from getting undone.
It’s a little bit faster now, the way in which the light blinds your vision. Within a few more moments, you’re soaking the carpet below you again, your high cresting over you and reaching its peak. You think you screamed his name as you came, but you can’t be too sure – not when the world is spinning, and your blood roars loudly in your ears.
You’re whimpering as you come down from the intensity. You’ve tried everything under the sun with Seokjin, but you’ve never had two orgasms in a row – not at the same degree. Seokjin’s large hands cup your face as he removes the blindfold from you, kissing your hair and murmuring sweet praises in the process. With heavy lids, you look up at his handsome face, and you smile at the pride that shines in his eyes. Looks like you did good.
How long have you been leaning on him? You quickly scramble away from his chest, but your body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, so you simply flail before landing back on his sculpted chest with a thump.
With a quiet chuckle, Seokjin massages your back as he gently removes the dildo from underneath you.
“Ah… fuck…” you hiss at the soreness that’s beginning to settle.
“Was it good?”
“Very,” you hum, kissing him along his jaw. “Is that all you have planned for me tonight?”
Seokjin scoffs as he gathers you from the floor and lifts you up. “Of course not. That's just the beginning. Are you ready for more though?”
“Always. What do you take me for?”
“That’s my girl.”
He lays you gently on your tummy after discarding the stuffed bear to the floor. His hands massage your palms, making sure he hasn’t cut off any blood flow. “How are your hands?”
“Sore, but okay.”
“Would you like me to take them off?”
“Not at all. It’s the only way for you to keep me still, right?”
“I guess so,” he chuckles. “I’m going to move you to the headboard, unless of course… you can do it yourself?”
You take the challenge with a firm nod, and though your legs are jelly from your adventures on the floor, you manage to lift yourself up and crawl to the headboard before dropping your weight onto the mountain of pillows. It wasn’t graceful by any means, but it got the job done.
Seokjin whistles at your feat as tosses his vest away and undoes the first few buttons of his shirt, and you have a sinking suspicion that the missing tie in his ensemble is the exact same one that has bound your wrists together. And judging from how his hands return to his sides, it seems like you’re the only one that’s going to be naked tonight. Darn.
“Eyes up here, baby.”
To be honest, you hadn’t realized you had thrown all your focus on the sliver of honeyed-skin, but at his words, your eyes jerk up to meet his, and you find yourself staring at that irritating half-smirk you’ve come to love.
“Wasn’t staring,” you mumble.
There’s a hardness in Seokjin’s gaze, causing the air to still. “I don’t remember teaching my baby to lie.” Even though he spoke in a whisper, there’s a hidden threat underneath the words.
Shit.
“I mean… I didn’t…” you fumble.
“No, no, you clearly did.” Seokjin shifts to loom above you before pressing his thumb on your bottom lip. “This filthy fucking mouth,” he growls.
You start to mumble, but Seokjin pushes his digit past your lips and hooks his thumb on the inside of your cheek, causing it to bulge and force you into silence. His other hand reaches over to unzip his pants, freeing his girth of its confines. You’re transfixed, unable to take your eyes off the leaking head. He pumps his length a few times, and your mouth begins to salivate at the thought of his taste again. Oh, how you’ve missed him.
Without removing his thumb, he stands over you and jerks himself in front of your face, the tip of his dick bumping your cheek every so often. You struggle against your binds, your mouth wrapping itself around his thumb as you whine around it.
“You're making a mess of my finger,” he groans. “Are you that hungry for my cock, baby?”
You nod fervently without looking up from the sight of his purple-ish head.
“Okay then, open up.”
Just after your lips part as you release his thumb, Seokjin rams his dick all the way inside, knocking your head backwards against the headboard. But the dull pain on your head is nothing like the burn in your throat. Seokjin’s big, and your small throat has a hard time accomodating to his girth.
“Shit… so fucking tight. Just for me.”
His cock sits heavy on your tongue, your jaw aching from having to keep your mouth open. You try to breathe but the air seems intent on not entering you. Oh god, did he get bigger?
“Ah, isn’t this much nicer?" His voice distracts you from your predicament. "You’re so much quieter with a cock in your mouth.”
Seokjin tangles his fingers in your hair, angling your head slightly upwards so he can easily thrust into your throat. Even though he’s going slow, tears begin to collect in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.
He then wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing hard enough that it cuts off your air flow. As you choke and gag around him, Seokjin groans loudly above you. “Fuuuck, I love how tight you got. I can feel the outline of my dick around your throat. Is it hard to breathe, baby? Huh?”
“Mmph!” you whine around him. Your fingernails dig into your palms as lights begin to dance in front of your eyes. Just as you think you’re about to tap out from the lack of oxygen, Seokjin removes himself from your throat, relieving you of much needed air as you sputter and choke.
You’re inhaling lungfuls of air, until your heart is no longer running like you just finished a marathon.
“Fuck,” you cry weakly.
Seokjin tips your chin up with his finger. “Still want more?”
“Please,” is all you can muster.
With a whispered ‘okay’, Seokjin returns to straddle you and places the tip of his cock on your lips. You open your mouth dutifully, maintaining eye contact as you go down on his length. He waits patiently until your nose brushes against the dark hairs on the base before he begins moving.
Seokjin tangles his fingers in your hair to keep you steady, and so you don’t knock your head against the headboard. When you give him the slightest nod, he’s merciless; driving his hips forward, and groaning loudly every time you swallow around his length. Though there’s a curtain of tears that block your vision, you can still make out the twist in Seokjin’s face as he loses himself in bliss.
His balls slap against your jaw and you want nothing more than to play with them, but you’re only left wanting, with your hands unable to hold on to anything aside from the sheets below you. You focus on hollowing your cheeks, and with it you’ve earned yourself a deep thrust and Seokjin’s loud grunt of your name.
“Baby, baby,” he hisses. Seokjin’s close; you can tell by the way he falters in his thrusts. “Shit…”
Just before he explodes, he yanks your head back to unsheathe himself. His other hand wraps around his length, his body jerking as his orgasm overtakes him. You barely manage to close your eyes before the first spurts hit you; the warm fluid decorating your forehead and cheeks in white. As Seokjin’s ragged breathing slows down, you peek when you don't feel anymore spurts on your face, but you shut your eyes immediately when it turns out he hasn't spared them.
“You – ah – look so pretty with my cum all over you like this,” he smiles through quick inhales of air.
You attempt to lick at the drops that land on your cheeks, but they’re unfortunately too far from your tongue. “Wanna taste…” you pout.
“Dirty girl.”
You can’t help but grin at the pride in his voice. Seokjin scoops up his cum with his fingers as he mutters, “Open wide.” You stick your tongue out and he presses his cum-stained fingers to your mouth, and your lips close around his digits automatically as you begin to suck. When his digits are clean, Seokjin wipes the cum from your eyes with what you assume is a handkerchief he retrieved from his pockets.
“Such a beautiful cumslut,” he hums as he cleans your face. “Would you let just anyone make a mess of you?”
“No,” you mumble, opening your eyes when he's done. “Just you,” you whisper absentmindedly, staring in awe at his dick that hasn’t lost its rigidity.
Seokjin follows your gaze and beams when he realizes what it is you’re staring at. Gripping the base of his dick, he taps the tip of his dick on your lips. “Do you still want more? Are two orgasms not enough for you?”
You nod enthusiastically, spreading your legs outward to prove your point. “I don’t think one is enough for you either,” you tease.
“You're absolutely right,” he beams. Seokjin traces your cheek absentmindedly, and there's a strange tone in his voice when he murmurs, “My cock-hungry whore. Is that what you are?”
That’s a new one, and you’re surprised to find how much you love it.
“I am. I’m your cock-hungry whore,” you pant, your eyes falling to his length again. Perhaps it’s the trick of the light, but you swear– no, you know for sure that he’s bigger than before.
Seokjin grabs your legs and kneels down between them, situating the tip over your entrance. But instead of entering, he purposefully slides up, bumping into your clit and causing you to shiver.
“How much do you want me? It seems like you’ll do just fine with the dildo. Should I just bring that back?”
As you chase after his length with your hips, you let out a high-pitch whine, your cunt leaking more juices with every drag of his fat cock against your swollen folds.
“A- A lot… I want it,” you beg.
“Oh?” Seokjin whispers. “I don’t know… it doesn’t seem like you want me that much,” he teases.
Every time the tip of his cock bumps your clit, you’re permitted a small sliver of heaven, one so out of reach with the way he’s teasing you.
“Beg for it, baby. Or else I’ll really get the dildo and fuck you that way instead.”
You’re squirming; kicking the sheets underneath you. If he doesn't stop teasing you, you swear you're going to explode.
“Fuck! Fine! Seokjin, please. Pleasepleaseplease. I need your cock so bad,” you rasp. “Hurry up and fuck me!”
“As you wish.”
Seokjin sinks into your heat after your cry, and the both of you moan in unison when he fills you to the brim. If you thought the dildo was big, it was nothing compared to Seokjin. Every time he buries himself inside of you, it’s like you’re about to tear into two. Yet the usual burn from the stretch doesn’t last as long, and you’re soon thrown into the depths of pleasure.
“Fuck!” you hiss repeatedly.
“Oh, fuck,” he repeats, and he splays his hand on your stomach, pressing lightly at the slight outline of his cock. “I’m always amazed that this tiny pussy can take me so well. Can you feel how deep I am inside of you, angel?”
You claw at the sheets underneath you as he begins his punishing pace. “Yes, fuck! So deep…” You blink the tears away at the sight of Seokjin above you.
Even in the throes of pleasure, with sweat slicking his forehead, he looks like a god. It’s not fair that he’s still clothed; you want nothing more than anything to rip his shirt away. Once again, you attempt to free yourself from your bindings, and once again… you fail.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Seokjin asks with a teasing lilt.
“Want to touch you,” you whisper breathlessly.
With a chuckle, he shakes his head. “You don’t deserve to touch me. Just lie there and be a good hole for me.”
“Seokjin…” you wail. “Need to touch you.”
“Nope.” He proceeds to exit out of you and flip you over, so that you’re lying on your stomach again. “You’ve not been good today, pet. So you don’t get what you want.”
Seokjin grabs your bound wrists and yanks them upwards, bringing your body up into the air. With his knees, he pushes your legs out further. Without your hands supporting your weight, you’re relying heavily on your thighs and the hold that Seokjin has.
It hasn’t even been a few seconds and your thighs are already burning, but thankfully, that feeling quickly goes away, replaced by the pleasure that his cock brings upon entering you.
This time, his thrusts are slower, and he prioritises going deeper into your heat. It’s more intimate, a complete one-eighty to the rough pounding you just received, but you’re not certain that you can cum from this alone.
As if he’s reading your thoughts, Seokjin’s hand snakes around your waist to return to your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves gently with figure eights. You sigh, feeling so full and whole with him so deep inside you.
“I wanted to be mean, but you just looked so lovely,” he admits, his voice wistful and soft. “I don’t think I have it in me to go hard on you anymore.”
He doesn’t go any faster than he needs to, paying close attention to every sound you make and adjusting his speed then. It doesn’t take you long to reach the apex again, the climb much easier after you’ve experienced it once before, but still, it’s not enough to pull you over the edge.
“Jin… Jin… Need you faster," you wail.
“Yeah, baby, I got you,” he grunts.
He releases you from his hold and pushes your face to the bed, his thrusts punishing as he slams repeatedly into your cunt. You’re screaming his name, chanting it like a prayer, even though your throat is sore from overuse. This is what you need; the feel of Seokjin driving his dick deeper within you, pushing you over and over to the brink.
“Seokjin—” you cry, soaking the sheets below with your tears.
You’re so close, so so close.
“Cum for me, angel. One last time. Cream my cock, yeah?”
The orgasms you’ve had previously doesn’t compare to the one you’re experiencing now. This isn’t an ember, but a white blinding light, consuming you from the inside out as you come undone with a silent scream, your mind filled with a pleasant buzzing that renders you completely speechless. Yet Seokjin isn’t done, and he continues to pound into you, growing faster and deeper as he chases his own high.
“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum, gonna fuck you full of my seed.”
You whine at his brutal pace, raising your hips higher. "S-Seokjin!"
“That’s it, take all of me. Oh God… Shit—I’m cumming—"
Seokjin lets out a long moan as his orgasm takes over. His dark hair falls over his eyes, and he grabs your ass tightly as he fills you up with his warm seed.
Wholly overwhelmed, you only mumble something unintelligible when he slips away. The bed dips when Seokjin returns, and all you feel is a warm damp cloth between your legs. When he's done, he tosses the rag away before he gathers you in his arms. When Seokjin undoes the knots, you sigh, feeling pins and needles settling in, as Seokjin massages your wrists.
“I love you,” he mumbles as he lays you back down on the bed, bowing his head to claim your lips.
You return his kisses slowly, opening your lips to let his tongue glide inside. “I love you too,” you mumble back when you part. “I can’t believe it took you this long to kiss me.”
Seokjin laughs, the sound muted and quiet, but still warm. “What can I say? You were a total brat today. I told you one thing and you did the complete opposite.”
You scoff, bringing your hand to your chest. “Technically, I didn’t break any rules. You never said I couldn’t touch myself. I just had to sit pretty and wear a blindfold.”
“Yeah? Well, look at where that ‘technicality’ got you, brat.
Seokjin scoots you over to lie next to you, and you’re both silent except for the sound of your breathing. Turning over to your side, you slide over into his awaiting arms. “I have a question for you…”
“Shoot.”
“Was this anything like what you had planned today?”
You can feel his chest rumble as he laughs. “Nothing ever goes as planned when it comes to you.”
You chuckle along with him. “Not even the dildo?”
“Oh, that one was planned, although my original idea was to be a bit nicer to you. God, you bring out the 'mean' me,” Seokjin pouts.
“Speaking of, where did you get it anyway? I’ve never seen a hot pink dildo that big before. Holy shit, it’s almost as big as you.”
Seokjin doesn’t say anything, and after looking up from where you lie on the crook of his neck, you spy that he’s smirking. And the realization slowly dawns on you. “No fucking way…”
“You said you wanted my dick as a Christmas present, so here it is,” he shrugs.
“So, you’re telling me… you molded your dick and… wait what? How does that work?”
He laughs, filling the room with the sound of Christmas bells. “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’.”
You roll your eyes, knowing that he can’t see. “Thank you,” you repeat coyly after him.
“You’re welcome.” Seokjin squeezes you in his embrace. “One more thing? You’re moving in with me after this weekend. I’ve prepared an apartment for the two of us close to where you work so we don’t have to only meet once a year.”
You pry yourself away from his arms. “Wait what?” Leave it to Seokjin to leave the details to something this extravagant at the last minute. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Does that mean you don’t have to part with him at the end of your holiday? “For real?”
“Yeah,” he beams. “Surprise."
You look into his eyes, staring at the familiar warm irises for a few seconds before you bring his face in and smash your lips to his. Stupid, impulsive Seokjin. You still can't believe he bought an apartment for you so the two of you won't have to part.
"Is that the cause for celebration?" you mumble into his lips.
"Yep, that's the big surprise. There's no more after that."
"Got it," you whisper, pulling your weary body up to straddle his waist. "I promised you a show, didn't I?"
Seokjin raises his brow as your hands begin to undo the rest of the buttons. "Oh? Is there more?" he asks as you part the white fabric to his sides.
"Of course. That's just the beginning," you parrot with a wiggle of your eyebrows, leaning down to kiss his collarbone. He's finally exposed, thank god. "The question is…" your nail drags from the centre of his chest down his torso, "are you ready for more?"
Seokjin laughs from underneath you before flipping you over, his arms landing by the side of your head as he smirks down at you. He looks deep into your eyes, fitting your chin between his forefinger and thumb, and you see the mischievous fire blazing in his eyes.
With his lips curling into a smile, he whispers, voice so angelic to hide the sins he's about to commit–
"Always."
moon's notes: woooooo! i wrote this thinking about my biggest fantasy :) i hope you enjoyed it because i had a great time writing this :DD let me know what you think!
can someone suggest some good jin fics? series or oneshots, it doesnt matter . neither does the length. im seeing that there are not nearly enough jin fics and going through the tags is an absolute pain!! pls rec some in my inbox!!
other member's fics and ot7 fics are also welcome but im just in a jin mood today 💜
stories with fluff/angst are preferred over pwp!!
edit: please feel free to use this post to self-promote!! <33
