ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ You have always had a secret crush on Kim Seokjin, the handsome, world-famous idol you know through a mutual friend. Despite having seen him at various gatherings over the past couple of years, you haven’t really spoken, daunted by his celebrity status and choosing to keep your distance. When he accidentally turns up at your apartment for dinner one evening, things turn from fantasy to reality...
Pairing ❤︎ Kim Seokjin x (f)reader
Rating ❤︎ 18+ (MDNI) | W/C ❤︎ 11,584
❤︎ MASTERLIST ❤︎
A/N ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Yep, my bias wrecker strikes again, giving me inspiration for this one. I hope you enjoy it and as ever, please excuse any errors I may have overlooked. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it, and as ever, please excuse any errors I may have overlooked.
It had started the moment you had first laid eyes on him.
From then on, it had all been occasional brief glances in one another’s direction, the kind that barely registered, yet sometimes you liked to believe they lingered a little longer. Yeah, you were no different from the hoards of ARMY in the end, just another one to surrender to their charms −but what could you do against the irresistible power of BTS’ infamous visual, WWH?
Kim Seokjin radiated with a glow that just wasn’t ordinary. From his tall, lean frame, broad chest and shoulders, pink puffy lips that were made to kiss −to the sweet smile made to melt the hearts of many and that goofy humour you wished you could bottle and save up for those lonely nights alone.
You had been in one another’s circles through a mutual friend you had known since school, who had introduced you at a game night a couple of years ago. Since then you’d seen him at cookouts, gatherings and the occasional birthday.
From afar, it seemed like he gave hugs as though he thought he might be contaminated by something. It made you chuckle in secret −although you were much the same. Contact with strangers, or indeed anyone, was done with a strictly when necessary basis −or when you actually wanted to.
It had been so long since you had actually wanted to touch someone, like that anyway −but whenever you saw Seokjin smile, you felt that urge to reach over and touch his mouth all the way from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, and your heart fluttered as though it were home to a thousand restless butterflies.
But you always shook the feeling off. The likes of Kim Seokjin weren’t for you. This was a world class superstar who would definitely not be short of offers. He was a prince, and the kinds of women princes should be with were princesses. Not regular women like you. Not that there was anything wrong with being somebody just normal −but you were a realist. Come on.
Even though you had seen him a few times now at various gatherings, you had never actually spoken on a one-to-one basis with him. There had never been any opportunity or need. Seokjin was popular as one might expect being a member of one of the hugest bands ever, so he was continually surrounded by people.
It suited you in all honesty, what on earth would you say to each other anyway? It’s not like you knew much about the world of K-pop, nor he about your world.
But now here he was, standing at your doorstep looking debonair in a black fitted shirt and pants, holding a bottle and one of those smiles that yet again threatened to buckle your knees right there at the doorway of your apartment. You can hardly look away, and from this close he seems to radiate more brightly than you had initially thought.
“Y/N, right?” he greets, smile broadening and accompanied by a small bow. “I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Seokjin.”
You feel your head nod acknowledgment at him, but you’ve gone into some sort of trance.
“Uh−hi,” he says, sounding a little awkward at your silence. “−They let me come right up, I hope that’s okay?”
“What?” you reply a little breathlessly, finding your voice although you’re still dazed. “−Who?”
Seokjin seems confused, gesturing with one hand behind him as though there was something to show you. “The concierge,” he explains, “−They recognised me I guess?”
He shuffles his feet, a rosy-pink colouring staining the tops of his cheeks and ears now. You shake your head as your brain finally catches up to what he’s actually saying. “Oh, right. I see,” you say. “Okay.”
You both stand there for a beat, and an awkward silence starts to build before you decide that your first real encounter with Seokjin can’t go down in both your memories as this. “So what can I do for you?” you enquire. “Are you looking for someone?”
You sound too formal, like a school headteacher offering help to a new pupil who has gotten lost. It sounded lame. Why would Kim Seokjin of all people turn up to your doorstep looking for someone else at this hour? He never has before. He hasn’t even been to your place before now that you think about it, so why was he even…?
Then the penny drops, and you suddenly recall the dinner you’re meant to be hosting tomorrow. But hold on, Seokjin was supposed to be coming? It was tomorrow, right? For a dreaded second, you contemplate whether it’s you who has it wrong and start having a mini panic that you have nothing in to cook. You aren’t even dressed for a dinner party.
Too many thoughts start to swirl around in your mind, and you can’t focus. You lean against the frame of the door in an attempt to pull yourself together and think straight, mentally trying to conjure up the items in your wardrobe for a hasty change.
Seokjin’s face flushes and he retreats a hasty step back. “Oh fuck,” he says, and then bites his lips and looks at you in a way that suggests he didn’t usually swear in front of women in situations like this. He lifts a hand up apologetically. “I’m sorry.” He gives a succession of two quick dips of his head in your direction. “I think I might have messed up. I’m so sorry.”
Again, it’s taking you a couple of seconds to keep up with this man. You’re still having a hard time coping with the sudden rush of… something… that started inside you the moment he uttered a profanity with those delicious lips, and you swear you’re blushing far worse than he is right now.
“I’ve got the days wrong, haven’t I?” he asks sheepishly, face scrunching up in a manner that can only be described as delectable. “I was supposed to be here tomorrow, not today.”
He runs a hand through his dark, silky hair which falls back into place instantly. How can someone be this good-looking, you think. Then again, he is World Wide Handsome, right? The thought brings a chuckle to you that bubbles in your throat and escapes. Seokjin’s eyes widen in surprise at your sudden outburst.
“The dinner?” you manage to ask. “You’re coming to the dinner here?”
You didn’t mean for that to sound as shocking as it did. It’s not like he didn’t attend things your mutual friends did sometimes. It was just that Kim Seokjin at your apartment was the last thing you were prepared for, not to mention the fact that nobody told you.
Well, it was a dinner where people were bringing a guest, but no one had specifically said Seokjin was coming. There was no real reason anyone should have, you would be cooking for ten people plus yourself. It shouldn’t matter −except it did. It felt like a big deal, but you didn’t know why.
Seokjin blinks in astonishment. “You didn’t know?”
“Uh, no. I mean yeah,” you stammer, thrown now. “I mean obviously I know about the dinner. I’m hosting it.” No shit. “I just mean I didn’t know you−.”
You’re sounding lamer by the minute, he’s looking at you as though you grew an extra head.
But that wasn’t going to happen, −it never did −so you straighten up. You may as well try to present an air of someone who knew something at all as opposed to a clueless amnesiac. “The dinner is tomorrow, and aside from the people I invited personally, I have no idea who else would be coming.”
It’s marginally better insofar as it’s a coherent sentence but it’s still coming off as though there is something off about him attending it. You grimace as you take in his expression, which despite his very obvious handsomeness has ultra-confused written all over it.
“You wanna come in?” you offer. It’s the least you can do at this point. Perhaps the man wouldn’t start thinking you have some allergy to him.
His face brightens hopefully for a moment, but he hesitates. “I don’t want to interrupt your evening,” he tells you politely, “Even though I’ve already done that.”
He says the last part more to himself than to you, but you’ve heard it. “Please, come in,” you say firmly. “You’re not interrupting.”
The hopeful expression returns and he tilts his head, smiling sweetly at you. “You sure?”
Jesus. How does anyone around him survive this sort of assault on their senses? Your heartbeat seems to start racing every time the man does or says anything. You question whether having him inside your apartment is the best idea. It might end up with you being whisked to the emergency department with a coronary.
“I’m sure,” you decide. “Come in.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin says, following you in. He takes his black dress shoes off to reveal clean white socks and puts the shoes neatly in the corner before he holds out the bottle he came with to you. “This is for you.”
You take it, looking at the label curiously, thanking him. You have no idea what it says as it’s all in Hangul, so you look back at him quizzically.
“It’s liquor I made myself,” he explains, with a hint of pride. “I thought you could try it at the dinner, which was meant to be…”. He trails off. “Anyway, I hope you will try it. I often get compliments from people who have tried it before.”
“You make your own alcohol?” you ask, genuinely impressed. “That’s pretty cool.”
He beams on your compliment and his face flushes pink at the cheeks again. You fight hard to resist squeezing them as if he’s some cute little thing you need to pet. “Yeah,” he grins. “It’s not sold or anything. Just−just like a hobby I guess.”
You smile back at him. “Thank you for this, I’m looking forward to having a taste.”
You walk through to your open plan kitchen and gesture for him to have a seat in the living room, but you catch his nostrils flare at the scent of the freshly laid out ingredients on the island countertop.
He scrunches his face up again, blinking hard. “I’m so sorry, you were in the middle of something−.”
You catch on quickly this time. It’s pretty obvious from the kitchen scene you were about to cook, and now he thinks he’s interrupted at a bad time. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I was just about to make myself dinner but there’s more than enough food for two.”
Seokjin stares hard at you and inwardly you’re marvelling at the beauty of his widened brown eyes. “You’re offering me dinner?”
You hadn’t exactly meant to give out a dinner invite, had you? You hadn’t given it any thought, but your words seemed to have come naturally. “Why not?” you tell him brightly, “You did bring a bottle too.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” he starts, already protesting and heading back towards the door. “I didn’t mean to gatecrash. I’ll go. You can keep the drink.”
You rush forward, a little too eagerly. “You don’t have to go,” you say. “Really. You’re here now, aren’t you, so you might as well stay, right?”
He pauses, contemplating your face, searching for some clue as to whether you’re just saying that to be polite or you really mean it. You jump at the bit, even if does smack of some level of desperation on your part. “I mean you did come for dinner after all.”
“I suppose so,” he says quietly. Sold. “But I don’t want to put you out or anything on my behalf.”
“You’re not,” you tell him. “I’m not making anything elaborate. It’s been so hot lately and I didn’t fancy working too hard in here, so I thought I’d make some mulhwe.”
“Mulhwe?” he echoes, and you see his eyes shine excitedly, “−No way, really?”
You glance up at him from behind the island as you pick up the cabbage. “You’ve had it before?”
He stares at you incredulously. “Had it?” he pipes up enthusiastically. “I fucking love mulhwe.”
Some little part of you that believes in rainbows and unicorns and all things fantastical and fateful tells you this evening was pre-destined, while the realistic, horny woman part of you is stuck on him saying fucking for the second time and having the same reaction in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.
“Sorry,” he says apologetically, almost instantly. “I can get a little too excited over mulhwe.”
You clear your throat and attempt to resume your cabbage chopping, but no sooner have you brought down your knife across the board, it nicks you and you draw your hand back sharply. In an instant, Seokjin is beside you, somehow with your hand in his, lifting it towards his face and staring intently at your fingers, blowing gently across your fingertips.
You gasp at his sudden proximity, and the shock of his warm touch against your skin, but most of all at the sheer concern clearly visible across his beautiful features. The white spotlights that pepper the ceiling fall across him at just the right angle, highlighting his fair, smooth skin and silken locks, so he appears almost angelic.
Your breath stalls at the vision, your heart forgetting how to beat, and you realise you will never forget this moment until you die. It's the moment you have, right here in your kitchen apartment, given Kim Seokjin your heart.
“There’s no blood,” he says, scrutinising your every fingernail carefully. You’re too shocked by this in addition to your moment of realisation to even move, let alone say anything. “I think you just nicked your nail.” He lifts your forefinger up and shows you the tiny chip at the end of your French manicure, “−See?”
He smiles in relief, softly at first but reaching his eyes quickly, and you fall just that little bit harder. A small nervous giggle escapes you, until you realise he’s still holding your hand. He seems to realise it at the same time as you because he lets go quickly, stepping back around the island, face tinged pink in that adorable way you are starting to find hideously arousing.
“Yeah,” you mumble, “−thanks.”
You turn away to rummage in one of the drawers as though you actually keep anything like a kitchen utensil there −such as a nailfile. How dumb of you. You can feel his eyes on you, burning a hole through your back as you continue to pointlessly sift through items with what you hope looks like purpose.
“You keep your nail files in the kitchen?” Seokjin enquires, as though he can read your mind.
Now you really feel stupid. Modern men, they knew too much. You curse the day they started thinking about manicuring their nails and staying well groomed −did they really need to know anything about nail files? Did they?
“Uh, no,” you reply, trying to keep your voice from squeaking with embarrassment. “I thought I had some scissors here or something.”
“You’re going to file your nail with scissors?”
You wanna scream. Like that’s even possible. And what’s with the questions? What did he care where you stored your nail files, or how you were going to deal with your nails? Why should he?
You force on a smile and close the drawer, facing him. “You know what, I’m just gonna go find a nail file from the bathroom,” you say calmly. “In the meantime, why don’t you pull up a seat.” You waggle your chipped nail towards the tall bar seats that surround the island. “I won’t be long.”
“Sure,” Seokjin says, giving you a strange look. “Shall I pour us something to drink or is it too early?”
You nod hurriedly, eager to get away from any further mortification. A drink sounded like exactly what you needed to steady your nerves, it most definitely was not too early. “No, that would be great,” you agree shaking your head vigorously. “−There’s some glasses in the cabinet.”
You take a little longer than planned to return. There had been the small matter of actually tending to your chipped nail which you had dealt with like a pro. It wasn’t too bad after all, and you smile to yourself as you replay Seokjin’s reaction in your mind. Damn, that man smelled so good.
After that, you had taken a small detour to your bedroom to check your outfit. If you were going to have dinner with someone here, you should at least look remotely dressed for it −as though you pottered around at home in outfits that were ready made for unexpected dinner drop ins with the Kim Seokjins of the world. Even so, this was no everyday scenario. Efforts were necessary.
He probably wouldn’t even notice if you changed anyway, so you would just make some tiny alterations to transform from casual lounge attire to something more like understated elegance. You settled on a white pant twin set that accentuated your body in the right places while remaining modest.
You give your hair a quick brush and apply a natural shade of nude lipstick, nothing too obvious, and spritz on a couple of bursts of your favourite fragrance. You give yourself a final check and shrug your shoulders −it would have to do.
Seokjin is sitting with his back to you but on hearing your arrival, he spins around in his chair. As his eyes settle on you, his expression stills. You hold his gaze steadily, although your heart is pounding with nerves and excitement just from seeing him sat in your apartment as though he actually belonged here. It’s a strange sensation.
You smile just a little and walk past him to the other side of the island. When you look up, you see his attention on you hasn’t been diverted. He has poured two glasses which sit on the counter between you, and you pick one up to study the clear fizzing liquid with a white frothy head that sparkles inside.
It smells like summer. Fresh and apple-y, sweet and delicious enough to coax your mouth and nose closer to the rim of the glass. Seokjin picks up his drink too. “How about a toast?” he suggests, holding it up in the air.
You follow suit, looking to him for the lead on exactly what that would be.
“To dinner intruders!” he grins.
You laugh, but you clink your glass against his. “Alright. To dinner intruders.”
You both take a simultaneous sip. The first bubbly hit on your tongue is sharp and clear, and you were right on the apple. It tastes like a cross between white wine and gin, the flavours clean and fresh −rather like Seokjin himself. You hum in pleasure as you swallow.
“You like it?” he asks cautiously.
“It’s delicious,” you reply sincerely as you take another small sip.
Seokjin beams with pride head to toe happily, and it makes you feel good to see him like that. “Thanks,” he says. “It took a lot of attempts and fails to get exactly what I wanted, but this is the closest to it.”
“I can’t believe you made this,” you say. “It’s truly amazing, well done.”
He grins appreciatively at you. “I’m happy you like it, Y/N.”
“I sure do. Now, I’d better get this mulhwe done, or it would defeat the purpose of dinner,” you tell him, reaching for the knife and cabbage again. “Are you hungry?”
He purses his lips together and swallows with a pout. “I skipped lunch in preparation for this,” he admits, peering over at the julienned vegetables you’ve set neatly to the side of the bowls. “So yeah, I’m ravenous.”
“It won’t be long,” you assure him. “Almost done.”
He takes a deep inhale and lets out a sigh. “Mm, yeah. Looks good already.”
You peer up at him through your lashes. He’s already tapping into his phone, head cast to one side, biting at the corner of those divine lips in concentration. You look away. You don’t want a worse accident than a chipped nail.
“Would you like something small in the meantime?” you offer, “A snack maybe while you wait?”
He looks up. “It’s okay, I’ve waited this long, so I’ll just wait,” he answers. “Can I help with anything by the way? Don’t be afraid to ask, I’m not too bad in the kitchen.”
“Really?” you enquire, eyebrow raised as you try and picture Seokjin in chef mode. It’s a sexy thought, but you were quite anal about your kitchen space, and it wouldn’t do to have such a special guest actually participating in making their own dinners. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll do it. Mulhwe doesn’t take too long.”
He chuckles. “Will you be okay with that knife?”
You lift it up and point it towards him with false menace. “Hey, Seokjin,” you say, “Just remember I’m the one cooking your food today.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Yes, boss,” he concedes. “I do have one thing to ask though, if you’ll allow.”
“What’s that?” you ask, placing the cabbage into the bowl and reaching for the next ingredient.
Your knife slices into the fish with ease, cutting it into neat slices, taking extra care with it with your guest in mind. Even if you never had this experience again, you wouldn’t want Kim Seokjin to come away from this dinner thinking you couldn’t even get mulhwe right.
“I’d like it if you called me Jin, if that’s okay,” comes Seokjin’s request.
You stop midway through cutting as something only just occurs to you −he had known your name when you opened the door. Kim Seokjin had known your name, and your chest warmed at the thought. You look at him again, and he stares back at you.
“How did you−?” you start, but you abandon your question. You don’t want to start acting like some lovestruck puppy now of all times. “Never mind, forget it.”
“You okay?” he asks, and there’s that concern in his face again, spreading to the silvery tone of his voice and pulling you in further. This man was seriously dangerous.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you tell him with a quick smile, returning to the mulhwe.
“Do you like chocolate?” Seokjin asks.
“Chocolate? Yeah, sure −why?” You reach for the sugar and bottle of gochugaru, concentration furrowing your brow.
“I was going to try and order something nice for dessert, assuming you wouldn’t have anything already prepared,” Seokjin says, “−To say thank you, you know, for doing this for me when you really didn’t have to.”
You pause for a beat. He really was trying to kill you, wasn’t he? Good looking, handy in the kitchen, sweet, kind hearted and considerate, with manners to boot. Modern day prince indeed. Someday he was going to make some lucky woman a husband to die for.
A pang of envy stabs at you, and you press a little too hard on the chilli sauce which spurts out over the counter in a small red shower.
“Fuck!” you grumble, salvaging things quickly with a nearby napkin and checking your outfit for any damage.
“I feared for your clothes too,” says Seokjin. “Especially after you had just changed it.”
You are stunned into a momentary silence −just how attentive was this man? Nothing escaped him. You redden considerably. “No harm done,” you mutter. “My other clothes had a stain, so I had to change.”
“I see,” he says, eyeing you suspiciously. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, you know.”
He turned you into a fool so easily, you think as you take a huge gulp of your drink. “Yeah, I just didn’t want you thinking you had inconvenienced me into changing on your account, that’s all,” you tell him with a sprinkle of indignation.
“Got it,” he says quietly with a small shrug, picking up his phone again. “So, shall I order us something?”
“Actually, I’m trying to watch what I eat so chocolate’s probably not the best for me right now.”
You don’t even know why you said that when you’re not even dieting. Why did the thought of the man buying some lovely chocolate dessert to go with dinner scare the life out of you suddenly?
Seokjin looks as surprised as you are. “You don’t need to do that, you look… perfect.”
You blink, startled at his words, and look at him. In the background, the gentle sounds of some old R&B classic fills the air and you feel more alive than you’ve felt in an aeon when his brown eyes hold yours.
You avert your gaze and gather the last of the ingredients which you set out in the bowls, layering everything together until the last delicate piece of fish was in its place. Carefully you begin to pour the chilled broth over the bowls, watching as it glistens invitingly, aware of Seokjin’s mesmerised gaze on you.
“You’re good at this,” he tells you gently. “It really does look delicious.”
“It’s ready,” you say softly without looking back up. You push one of the bowls towards him with steady hands, even though your heart is anything but, and pass him some fresh utensils. “I hope it tastes good.”
“I know it will,” he says, reaching for the sugar.
You raise your head to finally look at him. Seokjin brings the spoon to his lips to take a mouthful, and you hear him let out a low groan. “Wow, Y/N!” he exclaims, “This is unreal!”
“Good?” you ask, tasting a spoonful yourself.
The cold broth with the heat of the chilli was in perfect contrast. It’s flavoured perfectly −spicy and refreshing, with just the right amount of tanginess. He’s right, this does taste pretty good you think proudly.
“Better than good,” he replies, taking another eager bite. “How did you learn how to make it like this?”
“It’s a recipe a good friend gave me,” you explain, “They’d gotten it from a grandmother they met during a trip. I tweaked it a little but it’s pretty much as the original recipe so I can’t take all the credit.”
Seokjin laughed. “You had a hand in it,” he tells you. “Seriously though, I think this might be the best mulhwe I’ve had in years.” He chews with relish. “You really didn’t have to do all this for me.”
“I’d have made the mulhwe anyway even if you hadn’t come,” you state. “This way, we can eat it all fresh. It’s the best way, and nothing gets wasted.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” he agrees with a smile. “Must be fate.”
You freeze, spoon midway to your mouth. It was kind of freaky how it felt like he was in your head sometimes, reading your thoughts. It was dangerous actually, you couldn’t entertain the rising feelings that were gathering like storm clouds inside your heart, and you certainly couldn’t give any real merit to all this being your destiny.
“It’s just coincidence,” you say dismissively, pretending to be engrossed in the contents of your bowl. “I don’t believe in fate.”
Seokjin doesn’t press you, but the atmosphere enters a comfortable yet tension-charged silence, broken only by the faint sounds of music and the clink of spoons in bowls.
“You’d enjoy it, you know,” he says, breaking the calm unexpectedly. “−The chocolate I wanted to order. The desserts are all handmade using chocolate made with Cuban cocoa beans.”
Your mouth waters, but you aren’t totally sure if that’s from the sound of what Seokjin is describing or from watching the bob of his throat as he swallows down some liquor. The vein at the side of his neck works as he puts in a hearty mouthful of food and chews.
You had always had a soft spot for men with hearty appetites, but watching Seokjin eat in front of you turned that soft spot into something that feels like the start of a fetish. You could probably watch that man eat for hours and hours and still want to see more. Heat covers you and you take a refreshing sip of your drink.
“Why don’t I go ahead and order it?” he continues. “If you really don’t want yours, I can take it with me, or you can give it to someone else.” He searches your face, his expression unreadable. “A boyfriend maybe?”
You are spared from responding as his phone rings, a melody which is strangely familiar, but you can’t place it −some classical piece. Seokjin rejects the call without even checking who it is and refills your glasses. He seems a bit quiet, thoughtful even, and you start to feel bad even though you haven’t done anything wrong.
“Go on then,” you say, trying to sound as upbeat as possible, “Let’s order it, I’m quite curious about this chocolate now.”
His eyes brighten. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, go ahead. What’s the worst that can happen, right?”
Seokjin hadn’t been lying about how good the chocolate was, as an hour later, you sit together savouring the best mousse you had ever had. Light and fluffy, not overly heavy or sweet, with an almost coffee-like quality about it. It had even served and delivered in cute little silver heart mounds, decorated with sumptuous, tiny red strawberries and flecks of dark chocolate. You send up a silent prayer that you hadn’t missed out on trying this.
You don’t even want to know how much Seokjin paid for this, or how he got it to be delivered at your place so fast. One of the perks of being Kim Seokjin you assumed, but you certainly appreciated the effort and the gesture, and it would have been rude to ask.
“I really am thankful for the food,” Seokjin tells you, dipping his spoon into his own mousse and digging out a chocolatey piece. “It was nice of you to go to the trouble of feeding me. I doubt you’ll want to be reminded that you’ll be doing this all over tomorrow for me.” He lets out a chuckle and corrects himself. “−Not just me I mean, but for, you know, the dinner.”
“You’re still coming tomorrow?” you question before thinking, and you could kick yourself all over again.
He looks straight at you. “Would you rather I didn’t?” he asks, and you see the fleeting dismay shoot across his face as he waits for your answer.
“No, no −it’s not that,” you tell him hurriedly. “I just thought maybe you’d had enough of me without having to be here tomorrow too.”
Seokjin frowns and even that is cute, “Why would you ever think that?”
You’re flustered now, why did you have to open your mouth and say the wrong things when things had been going well?
“I−I don’t know,” you mutter, and you genuinely don’t even know why you said it to give him any sort of answer.
He sighs, pushing his mousse away and regarding you carefully. He brings his glass to his lips and takes not one sip, but some lengthy ones until the glass which had been half full is empty and sets it down quietly on the island top.
“Y/N,” he says, his tone the most serious you had heard it all evening. “I can’t go on pretending like this. Ignoring it.”
Your heartbeat is thumping so hard your heart might jump out of your throat at any moment. You look at him, and it’s hard to keep eye contact because he looks so handsome when he’s being serious −so utterly, heartbreakingly handsome that your chest tightens and it feels like you can’t breathe.
Your throat dries and you swallow like a fish out of water until you remember your own drink, throwing down a few sips gratefully. You know you’ve drank it down too quickly because the alcohol gives you something of a lightheaded rush, but somehow it also seems to give you a sense of bravery, and you grit your teeth together to face him. “Ignoring what?”
“This−,” Seokjin replies, gesturing between you both, “This thing happening here between us.”
Your breath catches. Was this really happening? You don’t respond, not right away, because what can you say to that? You see the sincerity in his eyes as he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world he has time for. You feel a tremble go through you as the enormity of this situation begins to hit you.
“I’ve always had my eye on you,” he admits. “Right from the first moment I saw you.”
Kim Seokjin had noticed you all the way back then! Are you hearing this right? A multitude of missed opportunities flash through your mind as you remember those moments you watched him in secret, stealing glances when you thought nobody would notice, marvelling at how beautiful he was, −and the whole time, he already knew who you were. It was hard to imagine Seokjin watching you in the same way you had been watching him. Famous pop stars who had women falling at their feet didn’t do that sort of stuff, right?
“I−I never knew−,” you croak. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never seemed interested,” he says, his voice low. “You would never come around wherever I was, so you always seemed out of my reach.”
Your breathing quickens. “If you thought I wasn’t interested, why are you telling me this now?”
“Are we still gonna do this?” he asks you a little impatiently. “Let’s make a deal to be honest tonight. Because we’ve wasted enough time pretending not to notice each other, don’t you think?”
“You weren’t exactly easy to read,” you state gingerly. “I had no idea. You’ve just sprung it on me.”
Seokjin leans forward, elbows on the island top, and you can see every fine inch of his gorgeously stunning face inches from yours. “Then let me be completely clear.”
The music in the background faded to silence, chocolate mousses and him being a world-famous celebrity forgotten as your pulse quickened. All you can see is Kim Seokjin as you wait with bated breath for his next words, words you would remember for a lifetime.
“I like you, Y/N,” he announces, “I’ve always liked you.”
The confession is as terrifying as it is enthralling. Your throat dries up all over again, but he’d asked you to be honest, hadn’t he, so you had to be. “I’ve always liked you too.”
Seokjin smiles at you, a warm smile of relief mixed with something else. Victory maybe −elation? Neither of you make any moves, as though waiting for something to break the spell. Suddenly Seokjin is on his feet, walking round the island towards you and holds out his hand like a true prince in a romantic fairy tale.
You take his hand, feeling like a princess as you rise from your seat. Seokjin touches your face gently, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone with a featherlight touch.
“I’ve waited so long to do this,” he whispers tenderly.
He bent towards you, his lips covering yours in a kiss that leaves your knees shaky, and you don’t resist. It’s soft at first, like a question he’s asking or permission he’s seeking, and as your mouth responds to his, it grows deeper.
Your eyes close as you melt into his arms, resting against the hard, warm strength of his chest. His hands snake around your waist, encircling you protectively like he never wants to let you go, the taste of apples from his homemade liquor mixing with chocolate lingering in your kisses.
You had never been kissed like this before, it felt magical.
Seokjin’s lips are soft, plump cushions over yours, and you finally know how it feels to be kissed by him. It’s better than anything you ever imagined. You reach up to curl your hands into his hair. It’s like luxurious silk between your fingers, and you moan into his mouth at the sensation, losing yourself in the kiss and in this moment with him.
He pulls away with a soft grunt, his lips hovering a breath away from your face, his hands travelling from your waist up to cup your face. Your hands cover his, feeling his long fingers under yours, suddenly feeling afraid that he might somehow disappear if you let him go too soon.
Time seems to still as he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, his attention resting there for a moment before he pins you with an intense stare that leaves you lost in his dreamy brown eyes. “I should have said something earlier,” he tells you.
“I thought someday I might get a good moment, so I waited. But every time we were around each other, it never came. Not until now.”
“Still think that was fate?” you venture.
“If it wasn’t, you and I would have been circling around one another for an eternity, don’t you think?”
Your hands fiddle at back of his shirt collar, allowing your fingers to play with the strands of hair that end at the nape of his neck. You feel the softness of his skin at your fingertips, and it makes you ache with a want you didn’t know you possessed. “Mm-hm,” you reply distractedly.
“I don’t know if I could have handled seeing you for an eternity and not shot my shot, you know?” Seokjin continues.
“Could have happened,” you say.
He looks down at you, his forehead resting against yours. “You think I could have handled seeing you hook up with someone else?” he asks, “I almost lost it when you didn’t answer my question earlier. I was trying to find out if you had someone, you know, when I was asking about the desserts.”
“Saved by the bell you mean,” he retorts sulkily. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
“No, there is no boyfriend,” you say. “What do you take me for? You think I’d be letting you kiss me if there was?”
“Maybe,” he teases, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. “I am Kim Seokjin, Worldwide Handsome.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, giving his hair a playful tug. “What happens now?”
He shrugs. “Maybe nothing happens. Maybe we just let it be what it is right now. Tonight, this moment.”
“And what exactly is that?”
He tilts your face up and looks deeply into your eyes so you can see he means every word. “Y/N, this is something I have wanted for a very, very, long time.”
Your body weakens against his. “I honestly could never have imagined you felt like this about me,” you say breathlessly.
“I thought you were way out of my league,” he says with a sigh, “−or I wasn’t your type, that’s why you never came around me that much.”
You shift yourself to look up at him. “No way!” you exclaim, “−You are definitely my type.”
He blushes at the compliment and looks stunned, but not as much as you are. The thought of Kim Seokjin, international idol, thinking that way about you leaves you floored.
He grins bashfully, a sweet vulnerability softening his face, and your heart flutters. “I’m serious, Y/N,” he admits. “I’m a person, just like you. Being famous doesn’t mean I don’t have insecurities or fears. There’s a lot that people don’t see behind the scenes, a lot we can’t share with the world.”
“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing your hands against his chest, “I can imagine.”
You take his hand and lead him to the living room, both of you sinking to the couch beside one another. Everything has taken on an air of the surreal. The confessions, the kiss, the closeness, and the prospect whatever might come next.
Seokjin takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, like your hands fit in his, belonging there.
“I’d like to stay a bit longer,” he whispers quietly, looking hopefully at you. “Would that be okay?”
You squeeze his hand gently. “I’d like that,” you reply, leaning back to rest your head against his broad shoulder. He traces slow, lazy circles across your palms with his thumb, and you close your eyes in a happy delirium.
“Seeing as we’re doing the whole honesty thing,” you begin, “I might as well tell you, sometimes I used to fantasize about what it would be like to come home and find you waiting for me. Like I’d imagine how you’d look in my house, my kitchen, my−.”
“Bedroom?” he finishes, and your face flushes, eyelids fluttering open to see him staring down into your face with a glint in his eye.
You blink, caught off guard as he laughs, a low rumble that you can feel through the material of his shirt that does something to your insides and your heart catches in your chest for the millionth time that evening.
Your stomach tingles with excitement, your entire body buzzing as though every nerve has lit up like a fuse as you inhale the scent of him. You push your body against his in an effort to communicate without words, because if you didn’t feel his lips on yours in the next five seconds, you might scream with frustration.
He takes the hint. “I really wanna kiss you,” he whispers, his tone leaving no room for doubt, and you turn your face up expectantly to meet his lips halfway.
His hands were firmer against you now, confidently placed on your waist as yours slide over his chest. You feel dizzy at the closeness, wanting more, and when the kiss breaks this time, you are both breathing hard, cheeks flushed as you look at one another.
“Are we moving too fast?” you ask hesitantly. Perhaps you had been too forward, you think, as you remember how he seemed to be with touching.
Seokjin pulls back just enough to shoot you a look of disbelief. “Not a chance, we’ve waited how long for a moment like this?”
You smile, but you’re still cautious. “I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss at your temple and tucking your hair back from your face.
“What if we regret all this tomorrow, or even an hour or few minutes from now?”
He kisses the top of your head. “I’m not here for a moment I will regret, Y/N,” he says sincerely. “I think we’re exactly where we both need to be.”
You can feel how his words pull you to him like a magnet, allowing you to start to believe what you had only ever imagined in your wildest fantasies might actually be true. You can feel the heat of his thumb tracing your wrist, hear him breathing beside you and still taste his kisses in your mouth −this was real.
Your hand rests on his thigh, marvelling at the lean feel of his muscle beneath your fingers. You steer your head back a bit so you can take a better look at that handsome face that was known all around the globe. He is every bit worthy of his title you muse. World Wide Handsome indeed was, according to your verification, the most handsome you had ever seen.
“What?” he says with a little shy smile, “−Do I have something on my face?”
The only thing on that man’s face is sheer and utter beauty, but you don’t tell him that. You just shake your head. “Nope,” you reply. “I’m just looking.”
“Okay,” he laughs, bringing you closer to him in a snuggle that feels better than rays of sunshine. “I think that’s enough looking for now, you’re making me nervous.”
“You get nervous?” you ask in disbelief. “No way.”
“Not so much in front of millions, but here like this with you, just a bit,” he admits. “Crazy, huh?”
“Hm, not crazy. I think it’s sweet.”
“Could I be handsome instead of sweet?” he jokes.
“You know you’re handsome already,” you tell him with a nudge. “Don’t over-milk it.”
He curls his arm around your shoulder and brings you in. You play with the open button at the top of his shirt, the nailed tip of your forefinger just touching the exposed skin at the base of his throat. You breathe in his scent, letting yourself savour everything in this moment with him.
“So I’m curious,” Seokjin begins, his arm tightening around you, “−what exactly did you imagine about me in the bedroom?”
“Jin!” you exclaim, flustered at his question and burying your face into his chest.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you say my name tonight,” he says quietly. “I’ve waited all evening to hear you say it.”
“Really?” you say in surprise, but you don’t move from your spot against his chest. It’s so warm and comfortable you think you might want to stay here like this forever.
“Yeah. I’m surprised you actually called me Jin. I thought you hadn’t heard me ask.”
“Of course I did,” you protest.
“You looked miles away when I asked you, like you just remembered something important,” he says. “I didn’t want to be pry.”
“Are you going to answer my question this time?” he asks. “I’d like to hear the answer.”
You resume playing with the button on his shirt “If you want me to tell you about something that intimate, you have to give me something first. Deal?”
He laughs softly. “Alright then. Deal,” he agrees. “What do you want to know?”
You pause a moment, contemplating whether you had the guts to ask him, but you were curious yourself. You take a deep breath, here goes.
“Did you ever,” you start, “−did you ever imagine us− you know?” You stop, unable to get the words out. You wish you had another drink but you’ve both left your glasses in the kitchen.
“Did I ever imagine us what, Y/N?” Seokjin probes knowingly. His tone is deeper, lower now, and it sounds seductive as fuck. He bends down, his lips inches from your ear. “Fucking?”
An audible moan escapes your lips as though the word had been physical, and he had hit you in the chest with it. You press your knees closer together, as a jolt of desire like an electric shock pulsed through you.
He feels you tense up beside him, pressing your face harder into his shirt, face scorching with heat and embarrassment. How could he turn you on so much with one word like this? You can hear just how your breathing has become shallow and quick, and you struggle for air.
“Look at me, Y/N” he orders. Your stomach does multiple somersaults as you slowly raise your head. Seokjin cups your face, his eyes dark as storms. “I imagine it all the time,” he says, “I wondered how it would be between us. How you would feel in my arms, how you would feel to touch.”
“Fuck,” you utter faintly, not caring you swore, not even sure how much more you could take of this verbal onslaught on your senses. You clasp a hand around his wrist, tilting your head to press your lips into his palm.
“You are so beautiful, Y/N,” he tells you. “Since you opened your door, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, even though you’re right in front of me.” His warm breath dances over your face seductively. “It’s a miracle I’ve managed to keep my hands off you.”
Your hold on his wrist tightens, knuckles whitening, your blood rushing madly through your veins and the heat between your legs bordering uncomfortable. “Please−.”
“I always wanted to know how it would feel to talk dirty to you,” Seokjin interjects, “Wondering if you would like it or not.”
His voice is driving you crazy, the heat of his body so close to you, the proximity of those lips to yours, his fingers on your skin, and you press your thighs together, desperately trying to push back every fantasy his words were forcing you to conjure in your mind.
“Tell me, Y/N,” he murmurs, “Would you like that?”
“Jin,” you say weakly, your voice cracking.
“Yes?” He places the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip, pushing into your mouth until it rests on the soft flesh inside. “Say it.”
“I would like it,” you gasp, “It would turn me on.”
A low, raw moan comes from his throat that sends your senses into overdrive, and he tilts your jaw upwards. It seems to take so long before his lips finally come down over yours in a hungry, searching kiss. His tongue finds yours as the kiss deepens, and you cling to his upper arm with one hand, feeling the hardness of his bicep beneath your fingertips.
He pulls away to blaze a trail of kisses along your cheek, your jaw and down to your throat. He places tiny, delicious nips at your collarbone between kisses, and you throw your head back to expose the column of your neck to his mouth. Hot, open-mouthed kisses follow over the sensitive skin until he settles on a delicate spot right between your shoulder blade and the bottom of your ear. The kisses are elongated, his teeth dragging deliciously slowly over you until you feel the suction of his wet mouth.
Your breath catches, but you want him to leave his mark on you, and you sigh in ecstacy as you feel him bite at you, the sucking gaining more pressure. You slide your hand from his upper arm to wrap itself around his head, embedding your fingers into the softness of his hair as you call his name like a plea.
His lips claim yours again, tongues and teeth clashing as you kiss with a growing need. When he pulls away this time, just a fraction, you can see the desire in his darkened irises as he pins you with an intense gaze.
When he sticks out the tip of his wet, pink tongue to lick the corner of his lips, you are mesmerised by just how good he looks. His eyes rove over your face to rest on your swollen lips where they linger for a few seconds before coming back to meet yours.
“Is it so bad that I wanna hear you call my name when I’m inside you?” he asks hotly, one hand sliding down over your shoulder. You whimper in his arms, delirious at the sound of his voice that rasps seductively over you, “I want you so much, Y/N.”
You shudder with delight when his fingers pass the end of the sleeve of your top, the warmth of his touch and the coolness of his ring against your bare skin a delicious contrast. His fingers find the tiny rose-shaped buttons of your top, and he looks to you momentarily. “Is this okay?”
You breathe shakily, nodding up at him, and more deftly than you could have anticipated, he begins to undo them. The brush of his fingers on your chest as he goes lower, unfastening as he goes on, sears you, wreaking havoc between your legs, what little left of your composure fading with every touch.
Seokjin’s breath is ragged as he undoes the last one and coaxes you back against the cushion of the sofa, easing the material apart to reveal your white lace bra, groaning as he takes in the rise and fall of your cleavage.
Slowly he dips his head into the valley between your breasts, one hand at your hip as he places a succession of hot kisses against your skin that have your chest heaving with desire. His kisses move over to the top of your breasts and as the rim of your bra cup stands in the way of his mouth, he begins to slide the straps down over your shoulders along with the sleeves of your top.
He looks up at you from his position for any sign of protest, his eyes filled with lust, mouth parted. You moan breathlessly at the visual as you feel your walls clench around nothing, throwing your head back. The hand at your hip snakes up and behind your back to locate the clasp of your bra, and with ease, Seokjin single-handedly unhooks you.
The material comes loose away from your body and it’s enough leeway to allow him access to your breasts, but he pulls the bra down over your breasts to expose them fully. You watch as he takes you in shamelessly, and your face flushes. Before you can react, he takes your breast into his mouth immediately, causing you to cry out with ecstacy.
He closes his plump lips around your nipple, his soft, wet tongue stiffening to tease the peak until it juts out painfully into the heat of his mouth, and when he sucks at your breast, the delirious pull that seems to reach all the way into your core leaves you agonisingly desperate for more. You moan loudly, arching your back almost painfully to push your breast up against Seokjin’s mouth.
He groans throatily, his body pressing against you, his hand under your undone top caressing the skin at your sides and coming up to caress your breast with a gentle squeeze. His mouth is merciless as he works you. Every wet, needy pull against your soft mounds, every flick of his tongue over your nipples and nip of his teeth has you writhing beneath him.
Your back arches upwards to offer yourself up to him, your hands tugging harder at his hair as he extracts endless sighs of pleasure from you.
“Feel good?” he murmurs against your skin, each word laced with pure carnal desire.
“So good,” you sigh. “Don’t stop.”
He comes up, kissing at your throat again, his fingers squeezing harder at your breasts, fingers tweaking at your hardened nipple until your eyes roll back in your head with the excruciating pleasure. He kisses you eagerly and sloppily, leaving a damp trail of evidence along your neck and as he leans further against you, you feel the hardness of his cock press against your leg.
Your body is weak, the need inside you almost too much as your nails claw into Seokjin’s shirt, clutching at the expensive material between your fingers. “Jin!”
“The things I wanna do to you,” he hums in a breathless warning, “I want to touch you, Y/N −are you wet for me?”
Your mind is reeling. You could never have imagined Seokjin was capable of talking this way, but you love it. It’s sinfully arousing. “Yes!”
“You remember the way you said you used to imagine me in your bedroom?”
“Can we do that for real?” he asks. “I really wanna find out how wet you are.”
Panting, you sit up, eyes flickering over his beautiful face. “Let’s go,” you tell him. “I thought you’d never ask.”
You turn on the light in your bedroom and set it down to a dim glow, removing your top and bra and discarding them on chaise lounge that sits by the dresser. You can feel Seokjin watching you, and you turn to see him lying on your large queen-sized bed, all dressed in black, long legs sprawled out, with one arm behind his head. He looks like he’s shooting some sort of perfume commercial, perfectly sexy, like a model straight from any top magazine.
You want him with an appetite you didn’t know existed. You slide your pants down and step out of them, walk towards Seokjin in just your panties. You can see the raw want in his eyes as you climb onto the bed to lay beside him.
“You look even better than I ever thought,” he tells you as he turns to his side and surveys you, trailing a finger between your breasts. “You’re perfect.” He cups one in his hand, kneading at you before the warmth of his skin leaves you, going lower until his palm presses at your lower stomach, fingers tracing the hollow of your navel. You tremble under his touch as you feel his weight turn into you, one of his legs hooking over yours.
“You too,” you say genuinely.
His mouth finds yours in an urgent kiss as his fingers dip beneath the hem of your panties, and you know what he’s going to find. When he touches your folds, your thighs spread and your hips involuntarily jerk up to his hand, seeking more.
He kisses you heatedly, and you feel him slide a couple of fingers through your wet folds with the lightest touch, leaving your thighs quivering with a delighted anticipation. He swallows your moans with kisses as he does it again, this time a little firmer, his thumb pressing in slow, circular motions over the head of your clit each time.
Bit by bit, he touches you, each one more maddening than the next until you are a trembling mess in his arms, soaking wet and desperate to be penetrated.
“You’re so wet for me,” he groans, sliding his finger into you. “So fucking wet.”
You moan salaciously, your body coming alive in ways you had never experienced from his words as you grind your body up against his hand. He inserts another finger into you, and kisses the moans from your mouth with long, wet caresses from his soft lips. Your body trembles, your legs weak, as the sensations continue to grow, pleasure starting to build under the pressure as his fingers curve against your walls.
Seokjin’s eyes are dark as he watches you react to his exploration, as he continues to work at you with a touch that makes you try not to think about how many times he must have done this before.
“Don’t come yet,” he says in a low voice and withdraws his hand from you, “Not yet.” He takes your hand suddenly and brings it to his crotch, pressing it against his protruding arousal.
You gasp, drawing in a shaky breath as you feel the size under the material of his pants. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall hearing various rumours here and there about the size of Seokjin’s cock, and here you were verifying that if anything, those rumours had probably underestimated things. It definitely felt bigger than it should, but it excites you, making you ache to feel him in you.
He moans at the connection, pressing your hand to him harder, and you rub over the sizeable bulge, feeling its spongy hardness under your fingertips. Quickly, he unfastens himself and slides his pants and underwear down in one, not bothering to remove them completely in his eager hurry.
A slight panic seizes you as you watch his cock spring out. You could never have imagined that.
“Touch me,” Seokjin commands, taking your hand and placing it over his hardness.
His cock is hot, smooth velvet in your hand. It’s weighty, rosy, and long, veins evident along the underside, capped off by a curved soft tip that already glistens with the first showing of precum. You find your mouth watering with an impatient urge to taste it, feel it stretch the back of your throat until you’re choking on it.
He draws in his breath sharply as you curl your hands around the base and begin to stroke him. You drag your thumb across the head to smear the precum into his skin, and he lets out the most gutturally sexy groan you’ve ever heard.
You manouver yourself into a better position, your hand still around his cock as you lower your head to take him into your mouth. The taste of his precum hits the tip of your tongue and spreads its saltiness the moment you swallow. Seokjin looks down, watching his cock disappear between your lips as you taste him.
You are cautious as you suck him, taking in more of him as you go at a slow pace, conscious that it might get a little more difficult as you went on.
Hearing the way he cursed, his tone taut and strained, arouses you to a different level. Seokjin has the looks of an angel, and the way he had brokenly moaned that obscenity has a wicked, almost decadent appeal to it.
You grasp the base tighter and suck hard, pulling him deeper into your mouth each time. Your tongue traces the long vein that runs along the underside of his cock and Seokjin grabs at your hair, lost in the sensations that overcome him. His hardness strains rigidly against the inner walls of your mouth, screaming to be released.
His balls are tight against him, and you let your tongue explore them a bit before you want to try taking his full length. Instead, you take each of his balls into your mouth for a luxurious suck and you hear him call your name fiercely.
You resume at his cock again, easing it inch by inch between your lips again until you feel the tip at the back of your throat. You start to tear up, but you persevere, wanting to have the sensation of his whole cock in your mouth.
He bucks his hips upwards slowly. “I love watching the way you take me,” he groans.
You allow in a little more, fighting the urge to gag as his cock threatens to cut off your airway.
“That’s it,” he urges hotly. “Take it all in.”
Finally, you have him fully in your mouth, but you know you can’t keep it there long. You start to pull back, but Seokjin prevents you by pushing it back into you. You utter a strangled moan as you feel yourself on the verge of actually starting to choke on it.
You raise a hand in protest, and he slowly pulls out, his cock exiting your mouth with a soft pop. His cock looks even larger than it did before you put your mouth around it, and you wonder how you ever got the whole thing in anyway.
“You looked so good like that,” he groans raggedly, reaching down to take his cock into his own hand, palming it as he speaks. “Like a needy doll.”
You’ve never seen a sight so delicious as Kim Seokjin lying here on your bed, pants open, hard cock in his hands, full pink lips parted with rapture, tousled hair, looking at you through half-lidded eyes like he wants to devour you. The image makes you feel like you could cum on the spot.
You lay beside him on the pillow, placing a kiss against his parted mouth. “It aches, Y/N” he murmurs in complaint as he strokes himself slowly, “−So bad.”
You kiss him again. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. “I need to be inside you. I’ve jerked off imagining how this would feel so many times.” He abandons his cock momentarily and slides off his pants and underwear. “Take your panties off.”
You had no idea he could talk so filthily but it’s making you wetter. You do as he asks, writhing uncomfortably as you lie naked beside him. He turns towards you, removing his shirt and tossing it over the side of the bed. He nudges a knee between your legs to part them, his hips nestling against yours.
You can feel every outline of his hard cock as he grinds against you, and it’s making you feel feral with desire. He drags the head of his cock against your folds, pushing between them to find your wet entrance, spreading your legs apart wider as he kisses you.
The sound he makes as he enters you is almost savage, any restraint quickly fading as he fucks into you bit by bit. You grasp at his back as he starts to fill you, the stretch and burn a beautiful mix of pain and pleasure.
“You’re so tight,” he moans.
“Jin!” you cry out in a helpless moan as he pushes further in. “Fuck, you’re so−!”
He groans into your mouth, kissing your cries away as it goes on, your walls opening up to accommodate him as he goes deeper still until at last, he’s totally sheathed by your walls. It’s an unbelievable pleasure, and your ache grows like a blooming heat beneath him. His hips roll gently against you, grinding into you, and you can’t hold back your moans.
“You want me to stop?” he asks raggedly.
“No!” you cry urgently, wanting even more, your body impatiently crying out for release.
“Can you take it?” he asks, worriedly.
He quickens his thrusts in response, eyes on your face as he does.
“Faster,” you plead. “Don’t stop!”
“I want you to come for me,” he moans sinfully as he increases the pace. “I’m not going to stop until I feel you come over my cock.”
The pleasure begins to mount, the pain forgotten about, diminishing with each rut, and you wrap your legs around his waist, hands at his back as you open wider, your walls clenching around him tightly.
“Harder!” you implore, your climax nearing, “−Fuck me harder, Jin!”
He obliges, slamming into you so hard the bed shakes, his thrusting quickening. You love the way it feels, the head of his huge cock hitting you just right in that spot, your slick accommodating him as you both chase your ends.
“I’m close,” you whisper.
“Come for me,” he tells you, “Come for me, Y/N. Come like you’re a slut just for me.”
His words do enough. Your body lets go, the full force of your orgasm almost winding you as you groan loudly, your body convulsing, your thighs trembling around him as you come hard. Seokjin kisses you, fucking you through it until he explodes inside you. You can feel his cock throb and pulse, his hot seed filling you as he rocks his hips against you.
Slowly, you both climb down together from the high, sweat slicking your bodies, the air scented with sex. You kiss him gently, pushing back a damp strand of hair from his forehead, enjoying the sight of him so wrecked.
“That was everything,” you say with a smile.
You sidle up to him, and he holds you for a while quietly as you reflect on what just happened in total disbelief. It was the stuff of fantasies.
“Do you always seduce women so easily?” you venture.
“Never,” he replies, “I don’t seduce anyone by the way.”
“You probably don’t have to,” you mutter under your breath, once more feeling jealousy poke at you.
He peers down at you. “Y/N,” he says seriously. “I’ve never done this before, trust me. Not for a first time. I did what felt right with you.”
“What about you?” he asks uneasily, “−Have you ever done this before?”
“Good,” he says, pulling the sheets up around you both and adjusting himself to face you. “You think we should shower?”
“Hey Y/N,” he asks suddenly. “So, I know this might seem a bit cringey, but I have to ask before the curiosity kills me −do you like BTS?”
“Hmm, I do like some of your songs,” you reply.
“You do?” He sounds genuinely surprised. He clears his throat, his hand that was playing absently with your hair stills. “And do you have a favourite band member?”
Truthfully, you had never really given the band members much thought. You doubted you could accurately give anyone all their names. Except Seokjin, but that’s because you knew him. “Uh−you?”
He frowns. “You don’t have to say me just because of this,” he tells you. “You can tell me if it isn’t.”
“You are the only one I know, so you’re my favourite,” you say, kissing the smoothness of his chest, entwining your fingers with his.
“Alright,” he says. “But when you meet them, I wonder if you’ll like any of my bandmates better.”
“Do they have bigger cocks than yours?” you ask teasingly.
“Hey!” he complains. “Too much.”
“I’m sorry,” you say with another few pacifying kisses. “But you kind of asked for that one. Why would I like your bandmates better? I like you, okay?”
“Okay,” he concedes, “Just don’t cook for them. You know what they say about the way to a man’s heart and all that.”
You laugh. “Is that why you’re with me? Because I cooked for you?”
He kisses your head gently. “No, it’s because you made me mulhwe specifically if you must know.”
“Ha, ha,” you respond. “I thought this was meant to be fate or whatever.”
He chuckles and you love the way you can hear it through his chest. “I think it is.”
Perhaps he’s right, it did seem like a lot to be just coincidence. You sigh. Whatever it was, you were happy it happened, and you didn’t want things to end just yet.
“So, after showering, do you want to stay?” you ask tentatively, “−for the night I mean.”
Seokjin gives you the most delectable grin and touches your cheek. “I was hoping you’d say that” he replies, “Let’s see if I can ruin you a little more…”.
ˋ°•*⁀➷Thanks for Reading! ❤︎
vaporwave
blakekathryn
2087
dailybridgerton
stormborns
