hoax apologist

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7 | 11:09AM, SEOUL.  (1) Missed Call – Kim Mingyu.  (1) Voicemail – Kim Mingyu. 

Hey, it’s me.   Well, you know it’s me...right? [LAUGHTER.] God, I miss your voice. Even if it’s just your outgoing message...and your laugh. I miss that laugh. I miss you, baby.  I’m getting drunk in Chicago with Seungcheol, but I’m thinking about you and I know I shouldn’t. I know I should have some shame, but I’ve never done this. The...breaking up over something small. Well, it’s not small, because it means something to you. It meant something to you, the reason you dumped me, and it means something to me because I love you and everything that matters to you matters to me. I just don’t know how to function without being able to talk to you everyday, and that’s selfish of me. It’s selfish of me to even leave this voicemail...but I can’t help it. I know my job kept me so busy, and I know you’re still probably so pissed at me but I still love you – even when I’m in Chicago and you’re all the way back home, getting pretty for work. Even when I’m back home, I love you and I think about you. I’m not drunk, before you say that. I’ve only had one beer and it was straight ass, but I think I’ll have just a few more so I can excuse the fact that your name is all over my call log in the morning.  I love you.  I miss you.  I’ll see you whenever you want me back.  

When you think about it: not-drunk, not-sober Mingyu has a point. 

You did break up over something very small, but in the moment...it meant something to you. It meant so much to you – and it was only by a few minutes. He was late, again – only by a handful of minutes but you will always stick to your guns and say it’s serious, and he knows it is. You’d told him at the start of your relationship that you hate being late and you hate it when people are late to any event they may have planned with you; and Mingyu had been understanding for the most part. He was rarely late and if he was, he had a good excuse prepared the moment he got in your face for his kiss in greeting.  

You tried to settle your own stomach about it – he'd been in Chicago for work the week before your breakup, and you were convincing youreslf that he was just adjusting to the time difference. The whites of his eyes were pink with fatigue, and you felt the urge to run your fingers through his hair as he rested his head in your lap just for five minutes before he fell asleep. 

But this had been the third time in one week. He’d been late by twenty minutes to dinner on Monday, arriving with nothing but a breathless sorry falling off his lips as he pressed them to your hairline. He’d been sweaty, like he ran to your apartment – but you let it go, because you also told him that your building elevator was under maintenance. 

You still expected him to plan accordingly and arrive punctually – you'd told him that at nine in the morning, and dinner was at six in the evening. He should have planned ahead. 

The second time was on Wednesday. Your friends had hosted a quick game night, one you’d invited Mingyu to with their permission and they asked you to stop for a bottle of wine. You’d gotten the wine on your way home from work to save time, and texted Mingyu three times within your arrival at your apartment – reminding him that he was driving, reminding him at the game night started at eight, reminding him that you do not like to be late. 

He arrived at your apartment five minutes to eight, and your friend that was hosting the game night lived thirty minutes south. You couldn’t even dream of getting there by the start of it, and you got two text messages letting you know that they were starting a game of Monopoly and they’d start over when you got there. Mingyu’s jaw was as tight as yours was as he drove you both in silence, only for you to shoot a text off in the group (that had Mingyu in it) that you wouldn’t be making it. You made Mingyu pull over five minutes away from your friend’s apartment and handed him the bottle of wine, telling him you’d get a rideshare home. 

It was the first real fight the two of you got into, and in the middle of a gas station parking lot. You were embarrassed as people peered through his crystal clear windshield at your frustrated attempt to make him understand, only for him to tell you he tried. That you knew he was busy, that he was doing the best he could to show up for you and you weren’t cutting him any slack. You’d scoffed, asking him if he’d ever cut you slack when you attended his work events with him, when you’d go to dinners with him and his friends. 

“You don’t have to, and that’s because I plan accordingly! I tell you everything down to the minute and you can’t even give me a tapback reaction so I at least know you saw the message? Why are you acting like I’m being irrational for asking you to communicate with me?” 

Mingyu turned his read receipts on after that fight. The drive to your apartment was silent, and you held in your frustrated tears until he pulled into his visitor parking spot in the garage of your complex. You pushed your own door open and slammed it shut, your heels clicking against the asphalt of the garage – but you didn’t get very far as Mingyu rounded the side of the car and grabbed your arm gently, pulling you into him with a very soft whisper against the shell of your ear. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You ignored it, turning your face away as he held you close to his chest – the soft smell of his cologne filling your nose and making your knees stupidly weak.  

You don’t remember much about that night, but you do remember the way he’d hoisted you over one shoulder and carried you to your apartment. You remember the way he apologized on his knees inside your apartment, before pinning you under him on the couch and kissing you fervently. You remember how easily your anger melted away as he pulled your dress off, as he kissed down your body, as he sank his teeth into the flesh of your soft thighs before he made you forget why you were even mad to begin with. 

The bottle of wine was empty by the end of the night, and you had a horrible hangover that made you call in sick to work – only to lift up your blanket and see your legs littered with nips of your boyfriend’s teeth. 

Then, Saturday came. 

Date night. Starting at four in the afternoon and ending at eight in the morning on Sunday. 

Mingyu loved date night and he was never late to date night. He brought flowers, he’d kiss you stupid on your couch for a good hour before your plans took effect. Sometimes it was dinner, a walk, a movie. Other times it was staying in and snuggling together after a long week of being apart and bitching about your work schedules.  

Other times, though rare...Mingyu was all over you the entire night. From the moment he stepped foot into your apartment, his lips were on yours and his hands roamed any and every part of your body you allowed. It was, admittedly, one of your favorite types of date nights – and you always made it a point to wear a cute little set under your outfit just in case he was feeling froggy. 

Four came and went.  

Five in the afternoon, six in the evening. 

Seven rolled around and you stared at the new bottle of wine you’d gotten to share with him on your way home from work on Friday. A nice Merlot, bitter on the back of your tongue as you finished your second glass. You took the pretty clips out of your hair, tossing them onto the coffee table and doing the same with all your jewelry before grabbing the bottle by the neck. You tucked your legs beneath you as you grabbed your television remote, clicking around the screen before some boring news segment crossed the screen and you tossed it into the couch cushions.  

You drank from the bottle for a total of fifteen minutes – the news segment ending and a broadcasted dating show taking over before your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. It buzzed twice, before it started ringing. It rang, and rang, and rang – and you felt tears prick at your eyes as you glanced down at your dress. Picked by Mingyu ages ago at a department store, one that he’d practically manhandled you into the dressing room over. 

You turned the television off at ten to nine – just  as Mingyu pulled your apartment door open. You could see the lines of sleep against his cheek, his eyes bloodshot as an apologetic look coated them. You’d pressed your lips together, before a laugh of disbelief fell from your mouth as you sighed. You shook your head as he toed his shoes off, guilt crossing his features as you slid the bottle onto the coffee table and grabbed your accessories in one hand. You didn’t care if your necklaces tangled – they had all been gifts from him anyway. 

You stood on wobbly legs, kicking the heels you’d planned to wear that day out of the way as you moved to stand in front of him. His fingers flexed at his sides, itching to touch you as you gave him a wavering smile. 

“Slept well?” You tilted your head, before holding your hand out and dropping the accessories in his hand, “you can have those back.” 

“Baby.”  “That’s not my name.” 

You shrugged, smiling wider still as you skipped to your bedroom. You pulled the dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor before pulling open all your dresser drawers and pulling out every article of clothing he’d ever given you and dropping it on top of the very same dress. Shirts, skirts, even a couple pairs of his sweatpants and a pair of his socks you’d stolen at the beginning of your relationship because you’d worn open-toed heels in winter. 

He stood in the doorway of your bedroom as you tugged on a pair of pajama pants, his lower lip trembling as you pulled a shirt that wasn’t his over your head. You beelined back out of your bedroom, grabbing a garbage bag from your kitchen and prying it open before shoving everything inside it. 

“Drive safe, Mingyu.”  “Baby, let me explain—”  “I waited like an idiot for five hours. I don’t do late. You know I don’t. You knew my one rule, and this week has just been a shitshow. Go home, get some rest and I’ll pick up my stuff next week.” You were fighting tears the entire time, covering your face with a trembling hand as he knelt in front of you, “stop! Go home, Mingyu!” 

“Please. Please, baby, don’t do this—”  “Go! Get out!” 

You were crying by the time Mingyu’s arms wrapped around your hips, burying his face in your shirt as he begged you to let him explain. You couldn’t hear him over your tears and the frustration festering in your belly, and you managed to twist yourself out of his hold despite wanting to melt right into him. 

He left reluctantly – his face blotchy with tears and his shoulders heavy with fatigue. You knew he was tired. You knew he had this trip to Chicago every year and it was hard on him. 

You had one rule. Don’t be late. 

However...as you laid in your bed that night, barely able to breathe through your tears – you came to the conclusion that you had been a jerk. You knew you had been a jerk, but you had pride and you weren’t going to beg him to come back. 

And now you’re sitting in your cubicle, a year later – wiping silent tears from your cheeks as you play his voicemail over and over. 

I miss you. 

I love you. 

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7 | 12:19 PM, SEOUL.  (4) Missed Calls – Kim Mingyu.  (1) Voicemail – Kim Mingyu. 

Hi, baby. It’s me again! I miss you.  Just realized I said I was drunk in that last message and then said I wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter anyay because I’d tell you all of this sober. Did you know I got a promotion? I didn’t get to tell you, but I had meant for it to be news that night we broke up. I was going to tell you but everything just crumbled and I should’ve said more. I should’ve fought you on it, I think.  You didn’t really look like you were ready to let me go.  Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t. But, I’m still here. Kind of like an anchor, I guess, and you’re the ship. I guess that’s why they call boats she, right?  I’m just waiting for you to pull me out of the water again and say you love me like you used to. Maybe kiss me, too. I miss your voice. I miss your lips, too, and your cherry lip balm. God, I miss you. I can’t sleep without you, and Chicago fucking sucks. I hate Chicago because all I can think about it you when I’m here. Three years strong, thinking about you when I see the damn Bean and eat deep dish at Lou Malnati’s.  [MUFFLED NOISES] Anyway, Seungcheol wants to take off. I’ll talk to you later. This is call number...four? I think, yeah. Oof, bad luck, huh? [SOFT LAUGHTER]   I’m six beers in, baby. Still in Chicago, still missing you, still loving you and still yours. I’ll see ya, sweets. 

Again, he was right. 

God, you hate when he’s right. 

He’s so smug about it sometimes, Kim Mingyu. He’s insufferable when he’s right – when he guesses something correctly, when he figures something out before you can, when he beats you at a damn game of Scrabble. You’d learned to roll your eyes at him, and really – it was endearing. Kim Mingyu was a champion, a master of all trades – and he’d won your heart over and over again. 

You hadn’t wanted to let him go.  

Your swollen eyes had been hidden behind a clunky pair of sunglasses and glued to the ground as you dropped off his last box of things on his stoop the following Monday, but he didn’t answer the door. You knew he was home – his car was parked in front of his apartment and the Ring camera clicked on and off. You knocked on the door for five minutes before groaning. 

“Give me my stuff, Mingyu!” 

He didn’t open the door, opting to talk to you through his camera like a coward. 

“You’re insane if you think we’re breaking up.”  “We are breaking up! Give me my shit before I break your door down.” 

He’d laughed through the camera, clicking it off before you heard the locks on his front door coming undone. He barely cracked the door open, holding a singular purse out to you and something about it made your gut churn. 

“Mingyu, let me in.”  “No, you said give you your shit. This is all you’ve got here. I know, I looked.” 

You shoved the door open further, only to see a mess of boxes in the living room piled up. Everything was labeled with your name, clothing of yours folded neatly on his couch – books you left there carefully wrapped in newspaper and pairs of your shoes neatly held together by black zipties. Your stomach hurt as you let your eyes scan over it, the room far too dark with your sunglasses on but you had too much pride to take them off and let him see that you knew you were making a mistake. 

“...You don’t have to be so nice about it.”  “Stop being a douche and take your sunglasses off, then. You’re indoors, it’s bad manners.” 

You hadn’t looked at him yet, but the thickness of his voice told you everything you needed to know. He was near tears and your shoulders tensed as your heart clenched in your chest, and you peered over your shoulder to see him thumbing at the strap of your purse in his hand. You pried it from his hands swiftly, your fist tight around it as he sniffled, blinking back tears as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. 

“Are you gonna help me load this in my car or what?” You muttered, shoving the purse over your shoulder as he chuckled dryly. 

“I’ll just drop it off. It’s too much for you to carry back alone and I can’t let you do that.” He shook his head, and your ears picked up on the music playing in his living room. You looked around, before spotting his television on YouTube – playing I Don’t Know Why by NOTD and Astrid S. You trilled your lips them, shoving your hand under your sunglasses as hot tears spilled over. Your shoulders shook as you cried inwardly, and he tentatively slid his hands over them, making you jolt against him. 

“Don’t.”  “I’m sorry, Y/N. Please.” 

“Stop! Stop telling me you’re sorry, Mingyu!” You exclaimed, stomping your foot as you shoved yourself away from him then. You pulled the sunglasses off your face, haphazardly wiping your hand across your face as more tears spilled down your cheeks. You heard a crack in the plastic of the glasses from how tight your grip was, and you simply shoved them in one of the open boxes before facing him and blinking rapidly. He was blurry in your vision, but he was a mirror of you – splotchy eyes, pleading, begging... 

Don’t leave me. 

Fight for me. 

For us. 

“Please, Y/N.”  “I don’t even know what you’re asking for, Mingyu. Just...drop my things off with the doorman. And leave your key with him, too.” 

You sighed, running your hands over your face and feeling the warmth of your swollen eyelids beneath your fingers as you tried to walk past him. Your fingers urged to touch him, to feel him close and breathe in his scent – but he caved first, grabbing your hand and pulling you into him. He kissed you then, too – his lips chapped but you cared nothing of it as you melted into him like a fool. Your hands clutched at his sweatshirt like you needed him to stay grounded as he held you against the front door, his own hands gripping your waist like you were going to disappear. 

“Stop, stop.” You pulled back, your eyes staring into his. So full of love, adoration and hurt – a perfect image of you engrained in those molten brown irises. His pupils were dialated as he peered at you, but he blinked and let you go, pushing himself away as he cleared his throat with a mumbled apology. 

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Mingyu.” 

Those had been your last words to him as you slammed out of his apartment – booking it to your car with tears in your eyes and the taste you missed on your tongue. 

Him, him, always him. 

You’re still sitting in your cubicle as you listen to this voicemail – your eyes probably just as swollen as you poke around a bowl of oxtail soup you’d packed for lunch from your leftovers the night before. 

It doesn’t taste as good as when he used to make it. 

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7 | 2:11 PM, SEOUL.  (9) Missed Calls – Kim Mingyu.  (1) Voicemail – Kim Mingyu. 

Caller number nine! Claim your prize, me!  Hi, babe. I’m still in Chicago, but I’m in a different bar. Cheol is sick of me talking about you but I can’t bring myself to give a shit. This bar has a really nice plum blossom syrup they put in their lemon drops, you’d love it. Do you remember our first kiss, actually? In Japan?   It was under all those plum blossoms and I put one in your hair, and you were so nervous that you didn’t kiss me back for a good three seconds. I know that’s probably a bit embarrassing for you but it’s one of my favorite memories of us...of you. God, I miss you.  I made you dinner that night, too, and we had that nice gin that I can’t remember the name of. But, I do remember that you told me you’d never been in love and I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t think I had ever been in love, either. Looking back, though, I think I was in love with you, even then.  Pft, wait. No. I know. I know I was in love with you. I know because your perfume was still lingering on my pillowcase, and I remember begging you not to go back to your room because we weren’t together yet. Do you remember that? Mingyu, don’t book one room! We’re not together yet!  Ugh, but that ‘yet’ hit me so hard. It was such a huge risk for us to go on that trip together when we weren’t together, and that ‘yet’ really told me everything I needed to know. That I was for you, and you were for me, endlessly. Timelessly.  So...I think, no. Fuck. I don’t think, I know you were in love with me, too.  I am currently...six beers, one plum blossom lemon drop and three shots in the hole. Tequila, too. Horrible, I still hate it...but I miss you.  I’m still in Chicago, and hopefully...somewhere in your heart.  Later, winner winner. I love you. 

You do remember your first kiss, and you’re sitting at the cafeteria at your job with your hands wrapped around a mug of coffee with seasonal plum blossom creamer in it. You’re done with meetings, your coworkers worriedly patting your shoulders at the swelling in your eyes, your lips bitten raw from holding back your sobs in the ladies’ room. 

You’d been dating Mingyu for a few weeks at that point. Dating, not his girlfriend – you'd been on six dates and something about him made your skin prickle with excitement. His smooth words paired with clumsy movements, pouted lips that brought you to a steaming hot blush every time they brushed your cheek as he dropped you off to the door of your apartment... 

Hands that snaked around your waist every single time he tried to go in for the kiss, and you turned away.  

“You can wait a little longer,” you’d roll your eyes as he brushes his nose to yours, and you’d crinkle it as you patted his chest. He would wait, he’d been open about it – he'd wait as long as you needed him to...because Mingyu was absolutely smitten with you. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, or to figure out that if he insisted just a bit more – he'd be in your bed before the word girlfriend even followed his introduction of you to his friends. 

You wanted Mingyu just as bad, if not more. 

He proposed the trip to Japan on the sixth of December, to leave by the eight and be back home by the fifteenth. Six days and seven nights, and he’d book you separate hotel rooms. 

“I just want to spend time with you...uninterrupted. God, that sounds perverted but I don’t mean it that way, I swear!” 

You’d only laughed then, and threw caution to the wind, accepting his invitation with a shy smile. The eighth came fast – and you were buckled into your seat on the plane next to him as he told you all the things he had planned for the two of you to do once you landed. You tried to argue that you’d need to take a power nap, only for him to roll his eyes and say there was no way you were going to waste time sleeping in Japan of all places. 

“We’ll have plenty of time to sleep, beautiful. Just trust me.” 

And you did. So blindly, so willingly. 

He took you all over Osaka, and you’d spent the ninth of December with your fingers intertwined between your hips and walking around an indoor arboretum, a giant greenhouse of sorts. Plum blossom season in Japan wasn’t for another handful of weeks, but he’d insisted he’d been to this garden before and they had them in December – and he was right.  

Again. 

“I haven’t kissed anyone in a while,” you’d admitted quietly, your hand rubbing your neck nervously as he shook his head, pulling you closer as the area seemingly cleared out of couples and families. You both stood looking at the trees surrounding you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin before he pulled you slightly closer, “Mingyu.” 

“I heard you, honey.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple as he picked a blossom off the tree, tucking it carefully into your hair. “You’re so pretty.” 

“Shut up.” You muttered, leaning your cheek against his bicep as he peered down at you. His fingers carefully pinched your other cheek between his knuckles, making you scoff as he leaned slightly into your space. Your eyes had darted down to his lips, pink and plump and smelling of cherry lip balm you’d given him on the train ride there... 

And you didn’t kiss him back for three seconds when you felt him press his lips to yours carefully. Your eyes were wide, before you squeezed them shut and kissed him back carefully. You’d both broken into giggles not even five seconds after, but he held your face in his hands gently and peppered chaste kisses all over it before asking if you wanted dinner. 

It was one of the first times he’d made dinner for you, and one of the absolute best to date. A beautiful white fish with roasted lemon and brown butter served over a bed of creamy risotto and broccolini. You’d both eaten in silence and on the floor, and you’d been amused at how much he’d been able to whip up on a two-burner hot plate he’d brought from home. He turned his nose up at you as you laughed at him, but smiled smugly as you were rendered speechless by the dishes he’d plated for you. 

You were both laying on his bed with the balcony doors thrown open when the words fell from your lips without thinking. 

“I’ve never been in love.” You blurted, and he stilled next to you. You'd cautiously peered at him out of the corner of your eye, only to see him deep in thought before he turned to look at you. 

“I don’t know if I have, either.” He offered, almost as if to soothe anything you maybe have disturbed. He furrowed his brows, folding his hands on his stomach as he hummed, “I have no idea what that’s like, but...I’m willing to find out.”  

You’d felt your face grow hot then, and you sat up abruptly, “with me?” 

“If you’d allow it.”  “We’re not together yet.” 

He smiled, his cheeks tinging pink as he grabbed the pillow you’d been laying on and covered his face with it, “stop saying that! It makes me nervous and then I can’t stop smiling like an idiot and I lose my cool guy demeanor.” 

“You have zero inkling of a cool guy demeanor, Kim Mingyu.”  “Nuh uh! You told me I looked cool when we met at that tangsuyuk place! That you liked my jacket.” 

You’d snickered then, crawling over him as his eyes widened. His fingers on the pillow tightened as he looked up at you through his lashes, lips parted as his ears burned bright red. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his carefully. He kissed you back almost immediately, his hands finding your hips just as you pulled back. 

“I said your jacket looked cool, not that you were cool. And you tripped after asking for my number, so I say that knocks a couple points off,” you murmured against his lips, only for him to pout as you laughed in his face. You pressed a chaste kiss against his mouth before patting his hip, “I’m going to my room. I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Kim.” 

“You’re such a tease.” 

You only smiled as you climbed off him, holding a finger up as you made your way to the door and looking over your shoulder with a scrunch of your nose. 

“Well, I suggest you learn to love it!” 

You stare down at the cup off coffee in your hands as the voicemail plays for a fifth time in your headphones. Your lipstick is on the edge of the ceramic cup, the very same lipstick you’d worn the day he kissed you.  

If you flipped the tube over, it’d say Plum Blossom Baby. 

And you’d remember every single time he kissed it off you like a man starved. 

“I miss you, too.”  

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7 | 4:46 PM, SEOUL.  (12) Missed Calls – Kim Mingyu.  (1) Voicemail – Kim Mingyu. 

Hi, baby! This is call number...twelve! Yeah!  That’s our anniversary date, by the way. December 12th. Mark your calendar, ‘cause it’s almost here!  Can you believe we broke up a year ago today, though? Well, it’s barely the seventh here in Chicago, but the seventh is almost over for you. Do you miss me? I miss you. Maybe that’s why the alcohol isn’t as bitter as it usually is, though.   Anyway, I know I’m probably not super intelligible right now because I’m now six beers, one plum blossom lemon drop, three shots and two whiskey sours in. Because of this information that I’ve just bestowed upon you, my love, I’m just gonna be honest, yeah?   Again.  I miss you.  You know, I probably would’ve introduced you to my parents this Christmas. I had it planned for last year, but then...well, you know. But, I wanted to bring you home, ‘cause that’s what you do when things get serious enough, right? When things feel right and you wanna pop the question, right? I wanted to bring you home because then that means the future holds that big ass ring you deserve. The ring and the beautiful dress and the nice house I want to buy you and maybe some kids, right? You still want kids with me, right? I would’ve been such a good husband. I’d never be late, either, because I’d be your house husband, too. I would have given up everything for you, even when you tried to say you were just kidding, I know you. I know that glint in your eye...I know you and I love you and I would’ve given up everything to make you happy.  I still would.  I still want to, just like I still want you. I still need you, Y/N.  [SLURRED WHISPERING]  Cheollie wants me to hang up, but I had to tell him you’re not even talking back! God, you’re not talking back and I miss your voice so fucking bad, Chicago feels like Hell right now. I miss you so much it pains me. My stomach hurts, actually, thinking about you right now and missing your voice. Missing you.  I think...I think this will be my last call.  It has to be.  I miss you...so much. Even in Chicago, especially in Chicago. I feel it worse when I’m here, and I’m positive it’s because I was in Chicago the week before we broke up. You looked so pretty in all the outfits and selfies you sent me when I was gone on my trip...God, and you were so beautiful in that little red set you got. Fuck, I can’t think about that. It’s not right.  [SILENCE]  Oh, I never gave you the snowglobe I got you when I was here last year! I got it personalized, it had a picture of you and me the day I asked you to be my girlfriend! It’s still in the trunk of my car, though, and it’s buried inside one last box of stuff I couldn’t bring myself to give you when I dropped it all off with Myungjae. How is that guy, by the way? Still flirting with you? Dipshit.  Sorry.  God, I miss you. I miss kissing you...holding your hand and making fun of you for crying at Shark Tale when Angie confesses to Oscar that she was in love with him when he was nothing.  You loved me when I was nothing, too.  I’d be nothing without you.  ...Do you think you’ll miss me too, someday? Maybe as bad as I miss you? Ever?  [SILENCE]  Bad question to ask. I’m sorry. I miss you.  Well.  My name is Kim Mingyu. I’m 28, and I am drunk in Chicago, Illinois. I am desperately missing you, I am irrevocably in love with you and I’ll see you as soon as you want me.  I’ll catch ya when I can, baby. December 12th, don’t forget. I love you. God, I love you.  Bye, baby. 

You’re thankful that you’re sitting on your couch when that voicemail comes in.  

You’re so grateful no one can see your trembling fingers as you press play on it, or the way you burst into tears the moment the word baby crosses his lips. You can hardly hear him speaking, but you turn the volume up as high as it will go and sob into your throw pillow. You cover yourself with one of the blankets you’d thrown over the edge of the couch that morning, and you feel your chest ache as you get a whiff of his cologne. 

You know Mingyu wanted to marry you. 

You’d seen the velvet box in his dresser a few months before the breakup. It wasn’t at all the reason behind it, and you were confident in that. You would’ve married him in a heartbeat, he wouldn’t even have to ask you. He’d have to do nothing of the sort like he did when he asked you to be his girlfriend – no fancy rented restaurant, no engraved bottle of gin, no begging to go down on you after finishing inside you for the very first time. 

You think it scared you, though. 

God, it scared you so much. 

To be Mingyu’s forever – it terrified you to know that you’d fallen so deeply in love with him that he wouldn’t even have to ask. You’d give him anything he wanted, anything he needed at the drop of a hat – just a kiss to your lips and you’d seal his fate forever. House husband, the kids, the house, the stupid fucking wedding that he’d talked about for a few weeks before he left for Chicago last year... 

You’d give it all to him. 

Every. Single. Thing. 

“I love you, Kim Mingyu.” 

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7 | 7:15 PM, SEOUL. 

INCOMING CALL – Kim Mingyu. 

You watch the phone ring from your couch. You’re still in your work clothes, your pantyhose torn at the knee from picking at it. Waiting for another call. 

Hoping for another call. 

It rings, and rings... 

And it starts going to voicemail before you grab it and slide the toggle to answer it, pressing it to your ear. Your skin prickles as you hear the crunch of snow under his boots, and a sigh from his lips – likely paired with tears beginning to coat his lashes. Seungcheol is hollering in the background, singing something about a girl from Ipanema. 

“Okay, I lied. This is the last call—” 

“Mingyu, you have to stop doing this.” You blurt, and silence follows your sentence. You dare yourself to peek at the screen, but he hasn’t hung up. He clears his throat, and you hear him stop walking. 

“What the hell? Baby?”  “Mingyu, stop calling this number.” 

You feel your throat tight, burning as you hear him sigh painfully on the other end, and a soft thud follows. He’s likely on the floor, sitting on a curb in the middle of Chicago....at almost five in the morning. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

“I know. I know you love me, Mingyu. That’s why you need to stop.” You feel a rush of hot tears spill down your cheeks, and you don’t bother wiping them away as you sniffle, “Because I can’t promise you that I don’t love you back, and then we’re fucked. We’re in a mess if I can’t tell you that I don’t love you.” 

“That just means that you do love me.” He’s pouting, and Seungcheol has switched songs to I’m Your Baby Tonight by Whitney Houston. “You know we can be together. I’ll drop everything for you, right now. I need to be yours or I won’t understand the meaning of life.” 

You snort, the amusement feeing cynical as you shake your head, “we can’t.” 

“Why?”  “Because I have pride.” 

“Fuck your pride. Love me like I know you fucking do. I know you love me.” His voice grows soft despite the strong start, and you hear the ping of metal on metal. He’s probably leaning against a lamp post, “Love me, please.” 

“Mingyu.” You groan, your voice thick as you sink into the cushions. He hums as you sigh, “I shouldn’t have answered. I gotta go, Mingyu. Get back to your hotel safe, okay?” 

“Wait, wait. Don’t hang up, please. I miss your voice...so much.” He whines, before the sound of snow jostles around him, “What if I send you a ticket to Chicago right now? I’ll send you a ticket right now if you promise me you’ll come. Come see me. Love me.” 

“Mingyu, why would I do that? I work...I have commitments. You’re just drunk.” You hate how close you are to caving, to calling in sick and using your PTO to go rescue him. A twenty-hour flight over a drunken confession of completely and utterly missing you that you’re sure he’ll regret. 

“For closure, I guess. To prove you don’t love me. I’ll send you a ticket right now, and if you don’t love me...” Something akin to a sob rips through him, and you feel your lower lip tremble as the same burn settles in your chest, “if you don’t love me, don’t tell me. Just don’t get on the flight.” 

“You’re wasting money, Mingyu.” The waver in your voice betrays you, and his response lets you know that he knows he’s got you. Hook, line... 

“I was made to spend my money on you. My time. Give you all my love until I can’t anymore and when I can’t that’s when my time is up. But loving you...God, I'd never fucking die. I’ll love you in this lifetime, in the next one. I’ll love your lips and your face and your heart in every single time and space continuum, the Gods would be fucking sick of my ass yearning for you. That’s what this is. I’m yearning for you to love me from across the world while I’m drunk on a curb in Chicago and all the stars in the sky look like your eyes when you tell me you love me, too.” 

Sinker. 

“Good night, Mingyu.” You breathe out, and he hums again, his voice thick as he replies softly. 

Carefully. 

“Good night, Y/N. I love you...so much.” 

He hangs up before you can, and you look at your phone with a weight in your stomach. 

You stare at it for five minutes, your thumb hovering over the PLEDIS app your company had to put in paid time off or sick leave. 

NEW! 2 Messages from: Kim Mingyu  [7:31 PM] [1 Attachment]  [7: 31 PM] check your email. come to me. please. 

Your email pings as you press the photo. A screenshot – one first class ticket to Chicago through O’Hare, taking off at seven in the morning your time. A non-stop thirteen-hour flight, because you can’t stand waiting around an airport for a connection. 

NEW! 1 Message from: Kim Mingyu  [7:32 PM] i love you. 

You open the company app without a second thought. 

MONDAY, DECEMBER 8 | 5:34 AM, CHICAGO. 

Mingyu is nauseous as he paces back and forth in front of your gate, his hand nearly crushing the flowers he’s got gripped in his palm. 

He’s still hungover as fuck, and he has absolutely no idea what came over him the night before – but he doesn’t care, either. If you got on that plane...you’ll be here. 

Any minute now. 

Seungcheol scolded him the entire ride to the airport. He went on and on about how he can’t do things like that when he’s drunk, that he can’t just drop over two grand to get you to Chicago because he misses you – when Seungcheol had done the same thing the year you and Mingyu met, but for Jeonghan. 

Seungcheol argues he and Jeonghan have been in love longer than Mingyu has even known how to wipe his ass. Offensive, gross and not true...but slightly endearing as the older man flushes at the mention of his long-term boyfriend. 

Mingyu’s collar is too tight as he nibbles on his lip, watching people start trickling out the gate. Families, a couple. Another couple, elderly and wobbly as they hold hands tightly and carry light backpacks – a young girl screaming from behind him and running up to them. He stops pacing, standing next to a man obviously waiting for someone – maybe a her. A girl, a woman. 

He’s just as nervous as Mingyu is, holding flowers just like Mingyu. Lips bitten red, cheeks flushed...and Mingyu reminds himself to take a deep breath. He keeps looking over heads of people – more couples, more families... 

You. 

In a pink hoodie that belonged to him in college, with a black pair of his sweatpants tugged over your hips and almost too long. Wearing cable headphones, eyes swollen and sunglasses perched on your head. Your hands are stuffed in your pocket, and you’re chewing on your lip the way you always do when you’re nervous as you walk cautiously; your eyes slowly raking over everyone waiting before you drop them to the ground. 

Mingyu feels glued to the goddamn floor, and the guy next to him nudges his arm. 

“That’s your girl?” He utters, and you duck behind a couple, almost like you’re embarrassed. Like you’re not aware he’s there, and you don’t want to look like an idiot. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “that’s my girl.” 

The guy pats his arm, and Mingyu feels adrenaline start coursing through him like a wave swallowing him whole as your name leaves his mouth. 

“Y/N!” 

Your head darts up, eyes wide as you look all around. You spot him, covering your face immediately as your lip juts out in a pout and he bolts to you. He almost knocks you over as he wraps his arms around your waist, clutching the flowers to your back as he holds you close. Your hair smells like the same perfume that’s haunted him for the last year without you, and your tears are soaking through his shirt as he kisses the side of your face. 

“You’re here. You’re here...a-and I love you. I love you so much.” He stutters between kisses, your fingers gripping his jacket tightly as you sob into his neck. “I love you, God. It’s so good to see you, baby.” 

“Even when I broke up with you over something stupid?” You blurt, haphazardly wiping at your eyes as his hands come to hold your cheeks carefully. Your eyes are still as starry as ever, glossed over with tears as your fingers pull at his jacket, “I love you.” 

He smiles softly, nodding, “I know, baby. I know you love me.” 

He feels his eyes sting with tears, your face growing blurry as he pulls you into him. He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply as his arms practically crush you in his embrace. Your arms wrap around his waist, your fingernails dragging lightly up and down his back as your sobs subside slowly. He kisses the crown of your head, “you’re really here?” 

“I’m really tired.” You whisper back, pulling your head back slightly to look up at him. His thumbs wipe the corners of your eyes gently, and you seemingly hesitate before glancing at his lips.  

A kiss. 

“Luckily for you...my hotel room has two beds.”  “Don’t tell me you’re sharing with Seungcheol.” 

“He’s a fucking cheapskate if it’s not about Jeonghan,” Mingyu jests, making you roll your eyes before they not-so-subtly land on his lips again. He nuzzles his nose to yours, “you’re mine, right? This, you coming. That makes you mine, right?” 

“Leave a message,” you shrug, before pressing your lips to his abruptly, your hands cupping his jaw carefully as you pull him to you. He kisses you back softly, pulling away after a few seconds as his hands hold your hips tightly. He smiles against your lips, giving you another chaste kiss before leaning near your ear and pitching his voice up. 

“Hey, it’s Y/N. Sorry I missed—”  “Mingyu, I'll get right back on that damn plane.” 

He laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you flush to his hip as he shows you the flowers. Your eyes widen as you smile inwardly, holding them to your chest as you peer up at him through your lashes, “...thank you for leaving all those voicemails.” 

“Thank you for listening to them. And picking up...and getting on that flight.”  “I love you, Mingyu.” 

He can’t bite back his smile as his cheeks tinge pink, his skin hot as his fingers tighten around yours and you both step out into the cold Chicago air. He rocks on his heels for a moment, before spotting Seungcheol down the pick-up area. He leans down slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple before clearing his throat. 

“Hey, it’s Y/N. Sorry I missed your call, leave a message and I’ll get right back to ya! Hehehe.” 

You shove him away, beelining for Seungcheol as he snickers. The older man looks pleasantly surprised to see you, opening his arms to embrace you. You allow it, before he opens the passenger side door as Mingyu opens his mouth to argue. 

You both stick your tongues out at him, turning your noses up at him as you climb into the passenger seat while Seungcheol takes your carryon.  

“I told you she’d come.” Seungcheol scoffs, and Mingyu scrunches his nose, “no you didn’t, idiot.” 

“Be nice, Kim Mingyu. We’re kicking him out of his room later, we need to be in his good graces.” 

“No way you guys are just getting back together and already fucking.” Seungcheol gapes, and Mingyu feels his face grow even hotter as he just scrambles into the driver’s seat. Seungcheol scowls as he slips into the backseat, too tired to fight it. You reach your hand across the center console for Mingyu to hold as he peels out of the pick-up area, your lips pressing to his knuckles. 

“Mine?”  “Yours.” 

“Gross,” Seungcheol utters. 

“Shut up.” 

You’re practically panting as Soobin continues his ministrations. The usually passive and quite submissive man clings to you needingly, pressing his mouth against yours in a clash of teeth and tongues as if trying to prove a point to someone in his head.

Your hands which dig into the skin as the base of his neck falter and squeeze at the wisps of hair as he pushes you impossibly closer by the small of your back. Your lips disconnect slightly so his hot, heavy tongue can lick a daring stripe from your neck to just above your jaw.

You can’t help but whimper at the feeling. You feel like you’re going insane as Soobin continues to have his way with you. It’s not like Soobin to practically jump on you and have you sit pretty in his lap as he does what he wants to you. Usually, he’s staring at you with eyes blown large with desire as he asks you want you want him to do. What he can do to make you feel so good. Usually the control over someone so much larger than you makes your legs clench but the way Soobin is practically treating you like a doll has you drenched in a way you didn’t think was ever possible.

“Mhmph — Soobin!” You mewl as he presses heavy kisses against your cheek, travelling up your face to press them into your hairline before he lands back at your mouth. He snakes a hand from the small of your back to clench your chin between fingers, pulling his face back so he can stare at you with dark eyes. You swear your eyes almost roll to the back of your head at the sight of his plush, bruised lip. They’re slick with saliva and a small string still connects your lips.

He breathes heavily but the way you’re panting at having your breath stolen from you is undeniably hot to both of you. Your hands slip from his neck to hold his broad shoulders. You must look crazed — hair messy and lips swollen from the nips caused by Soobin.

“What’s gotten into you?” You question under pants, eyes darting around your boyfriend’s face. His hooded eyes drink in the details of your wrecked face. Soft eyes, furrowed brows and parted, kiss bitten red lips that glisten under the dull light in the bedroom like a crude layer of lipgloss. Soobin’s dick twitches at the sight.

“Need you.” Soobin mutters honestly as his hand drops from your chin. You swallow thickly before letting out a small puff in surprise as Soobin swiftly scoots back to lay you flat against the bed. Your stomach flutters as he easily manhandles you in a pliant position he wants to see you in.

“H-Hah..” You exhale shakily as Soobin’s hand runs down your body. His large plans envelope your tits, squeezing and pushing them together under the fabric of your top. He uses his thumbs to rub over the protruding tips, revelling in the way you shiver and bite your lip at the feeling. Your legs greedily rub together, ignoring how your knees knock into his legs and give away what you’re doing.

Wriggling and twisting, you reach after his touch. He curses as his hands trail further down your body until he reaches the hem of your shirt. His head dips as he pushes the material up, lips pressing wet searing kisses to the exposed skin of your torso. When he lifts away to press more, tongue darting to lap at the skin, the cool air causes a nipping sensation that makes your back arch.

Your head falls further back into the pillows as your hands grasp at the sheets. Soobin pushes your shirt up to the point it bunches over the swell of your breasts, pert nipples facing the cool air without much cover. Your legs press together as his head rounds up to the flesh of your tits. His tongue leaves a hot trail of desire, mapping his ministrations as he finally targets your breasts. He swirls the tongue around the perky bud, lips suctioning down as his teeth graze at the sensitive surface. You mewl and yelp as his other hand comes to twist at the neglected nipple.

“A-Ah, Soobin..” You moan wantonly, back arching and twisting. You try to pull away from the pinching of your right nipple but it leads you to push against Soobin’s face causing his teeth to dig into the soft flesh. You hiss and mewl as you feel yourself become more needy at the opposite sensations.

“So needy.” Soobin mumbles around the flesh as he moves to suck the skin just under your areola. You seizes his pinching to lightly roll over the bud with his thumb. You sigh as he separates from your tit with a soft ‘pop!’

The skin presents with a slight red tint. Soobin exhales as he realises the mark will slowly darken over time.

You release your hands from the sheets to weave your fingers into Soobin’s dark strands. He follows your lead until his face connects with your again. Your lips jut into a pout as you motion for him to meet you halfway with another kiss but he stills despite the pull on his hair.

“Jus’ kiss me, already.” You whine, feeling slightly lightheaded by the change in dynamic. Soobin’s lip flips into a smirk at one corner, the expression sends a flutter straight to your cunt. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against your lips.

You relish in the soft kiss. It’s different from what he’s inflicted upon you tonight.

He pulls away softly and his eyes almost seem a little lighter. They’re still clouded with unwavering desire but his expression seems just a fraction smaller.

“..My beautiful baby.” Soobin practically whispers as his eyes take in the features of your face. You turn hot under the appreciation. Soobin presses a soft kiss against your jawline, eyes dazzling with love.

“Soobin..” You whine with embarrassment laced into your words, “Just fuck me already.”

If the room wasn’t hot before it was hot now. As soon as the plea left your mouth Soobin was stripping his shirt and unbuckling his belt. The visual of the taller man sat on his knees above you as his belt clacked and jiggled as he whipped it off and threw the accessory to the side with a metallic thud made your thighs clench. The way his brows furrowed slightly as the belt fumbled a little and the groan of relief once he was able to undo it and throw it to the side made the everyday action just a little hotter.

You shuffle and pull yourself up to fully take off the shirt that was uncomfortably bunched around your chest. Soobin’s eyes shamelessly stare at your tits as they shake a little when you readjust the strands of hair that fell into your face.

“Shit. Baby. Let me eat you out.” Soobin asks as he hurriedly pushes his trousers around his ankles. If you weren’t so turned on you’d probably laugh at how he swears when the material bunches on his thighs and he’s forced to hop off the bed to fully take the denim off. The strain of his cock against the black material of his Calvin Klein’s makes whatever humour die in the back of your head as you zone in on the print.

“Jus’ need you in me.” You reply earnestly. Soobin crawls back on the bed, leaning over you like predator to prey. His eyes meet yours softly, “I’ve been dying to taste you, baby.”

You almost moan at his words. Soobin uses a hand to trace your features with delicate fingers. Your hand raises to softly hold at the hand. Not to stop him but just to simply touch him.

“I just need your cock, ‘Bin.” You say it so easily Soobin feels himself twitch in his underwear. The fingers tracing your lips lead themselves to your lips, slightly pressing down on the pink flesh to open your mouth silently. You let him use you, opening your mouth so he can press down on your tongue.

“Get my fingers wet, my love.” Soobin hums as he zones in on the way your tongue twirls over the long digits. He wills himself to not teasingly press a little deeper. If he was feeling a little meaner maybe he’d see how far he could go before you gag against the prodding digits. He hooks a thumb on your chin so he can rub his pointer and middle fingers against your tongue.

You hum, voice bordering on a whine as your mouth salivates from his actions and face alone. Soobin pulls his fingers away but taps on your lips to tell you to keep your mouth open. You flinch a little when he spits but you can’t help but smile when the droplet of saliva lands on your tongue neatly. He dips his fingers back in to scoop it up and really coat his fingers.

He lets you breathe when he pulls away. You swallow thickly as Soobin shifts his attention to your needy cunt. The cool sensation of his fingers prodding as your hot, gushing pussy is enough to make your eyes roll back. He circles your clit a few times — the way you like — before dipping the tips of his fingers into your needy hole. He glances up to gage your reaction before pushing in his fingers, wiggling a little to ease them in.

“Didn’t even need you to drool all over my fingers.” Soobin laughs a little as your mouth falls open. You let out a breathy exhale as he scissors you open, fingers slowly spreading against your gummy walls to get you used to the feeling.

“Ha-ah, told you I need you.” You retort as your fingers curl against the sheets. Soobin hums and bends his head so he can leave a small kiss at the top of your thigh. The muscle twitches at the sensation but the loving action next to the pumping of his fingers makes your stomach feel warm and fuzzy.

It’s not long before the usual dirty sound of squelching fills the air. Soobin manages to wiggle in a third finger despite your little huffs when it stings as he introduces the third. He hums as he shifts back on his knees so he can use his other hand to circle at your clit.

Your thighs begin to shake a little. Your head lolls back as you whimper. Soobin’s long fingers and strikingly ability to find the spot that makes you see stars is a lethal combo, but one that makes you moan like a bitch in heat.

“Soob, ‘m gonna cum.” You warn. Soobin continues, twisting his fingers just slightly as he rubs a little faster on your clit. You should be embarrassed at the wet sloshing sound that fills the room but you can’t focus on it when the familiar warm tugging sensation starts to pull in your lower stomach.

“Gonna cum for me?” Soobin asks as he looks at your face. Your hair is disheveled from throwing your head back but it falls around your head like a halo. He presses a fingers a little harder against the spongy spot inside your cunt as he continues to coo little praises that makes your walls clench against the fingers.

“Pretty baby.” Soobin cooes as you cum. Your back arches with your pretty tits pointing perkily to the air. Soobin wills himself to not grab at the flesh as he continues to slowly pump his fingers in your squishy walls to help you ride out the orgasm. Your hips chase after the fading sensation before eventually stopping.

Soobin takes the signal to slowly detach his fingers from your cunt. Your pussy clenches as he pulls out.

Your head feels dizzy as you turn your head to look at your boyfriend. He’s slowly peeling the elastic band of his boxers away from his hips. You’d offer to help if you weren’t still a little breathless from whining for Soobin to keep going.

He rolls the material down his thighs. His quads tighten as his hand wraps around the base of his cock. He uses the juices from the hand he used to finger you to spread it across the sensitive skin.

He hisses at the contact. Despite being sexually active Soobin still swears he feels like he could cum from one touch alone as he looks at your body. He feels like a dam teenager who just got their hands on their first porn mag as he drinks in your vulgar position.

“Roll over for me, baby.” Soobin commands. You nod, slowly rolling yourself over so you can plant yourself on your hands and knees. It used to feel embarrassing to present yourself so freely to Soobin but you’ve gotten used to this man and his libido to realise he’s way to horny to care for slight imperfections you’ve decided you’ve got in your head.

Your back arches as Soobin places a palm on the skin of your ass. You feel the bed dip as he shuffles forward, stomach clenching when the head of his cock taps against your weeping hole.

You hear Soobin inhale before pausing. He shifts backwards before a hot, wet trail of liquid meet your puffy lips. The needy moan that erupts from your mouth when you realise Soobin’s spat on you again — specifically your pussy, turns you on immensely.

“Tell me if it hurts.” Soobin comments as he guides his cock with his hand. He use the fleshy tip to spread the wetness over your folds, gathering them on the bulbous tip so it makes it easier for him to press into your fluttering hole.

The hand on the palm of your ass smooths to your lower back. You instinctively arch further into the mattress, proving him a better view of your messy pussy. He groans as he presses in, relishing in the way your wet cunt immediately sucks him in.

The stinging is delicious. The way the tears poke at your eyes as you clench them shut would make Soobin cum on the spot if he could see your face. You press your face into the pillows, gasping as he inches in slowly.

“Doing okay, love?” Soobin asks as he stops halfway. You nod against the pillow, biting your lip to swallow any hisses. The stretch does burn but the reward after is too enticing to stop him. Soobin leans forward a bit, accidentally pushing in more as he tries to catch a glance of your face, “Words, baby.”

“G-Good! Keep going, Soob. Need it bad!” You squeal as he inches in more. Your legs want to flail but you ground yourself by biting at the pillow you’ve forced your head into.

Soobin bottoms out swiftly. The base of his hips sit snug against your ass as he allows you a moment to breathe. The way your walls clench rapidly around his cock makes the hand on your back slip to grab at your waist. He holds the flesh firmly between his fingers.

“‘M gonna cum if you keep doing that.” He confesses breathlessly. You whimper out an apology as you try to calm your racing heart.

“Move. It’s okay.” You give Soobin the green light to move.

He rocks his hips slowly. Your eyes almost roll back at how big he is. Soobin doesn’t seem to understand that he is bigger than average because the amount of times you have to tell him he can’t just jackhammer into you from start to finish is astonishing. He doesn’t seem to understand that you barely squeeze him into your cunt before he’s almost breaking into your cervix. Poor guy just wants to make you feel good.

He sighs, both hands finding home on your hips as he finds his rhythm. His thighs slap against the back of your legs, filling the void silence in the room as he slowly speeds up.

Your legs shake. His stupidly big cock practically abuses your gspot, punching and drilling it stupid. Even at the slower pace the mushroom tip makes your toes curl like you’re about to cum on the spot.

“Faster!” You command greedily as you press your hips against Soobin’s. Soobin takes your word for it as he begins to press harder, transferring his weight to the grip on your hips so he can thrust harder.

The bruising placement of his hands makes your mouth water. The thought of him leaving imprints of his hands on the soft flesh like a silent marking of ‘Soobin was here.’ is dirtily tantalising.

“Always so tight. You sure you can take me?” Soobin muses as he thrusts harder. The sounds filling the room are a perverts fantasy. Between the sound of slick skin slapping, obscene squelching and pornographic moans alongside the softest dirty talk would have any person sweating.

You pant and wriggle, hips pushing back to meet Soobin. The plush of your ass slaps against the skin of Soobin’s hips leaving soft little stings in its wake. He slides a hand from your hip to messily play with your clit. You cry as he punches hastily, the force of his thrusts making his hand slip and pull at the sensitive skin.

“‘M gonna cum!” You warn as Soobin continues to draw messy figure 8’s on your clit. He pants as he chases the orgasm, legs and arms burning as he wills himself to keep going.

The sweat that was building on his hairline falls down his face in small streaks and he groans as he flicks his head back. The strands of his hair stick to the sweaty skin, casting a shadow across his face.

“Go ahead, love. Come.” Soobin keens when you clamp down a little firmer than usual. The spasms of your sensitive walls leads him to a quicker release but he refuses to come before you do.

You yelp as a specifically hard thrust makes your vision dot “Fuck! Mhmph!! Soobin — Ha-ah, shit!”

“You sound like a pornstar.” Soobin manages to speak past the whiny whimper that escaped him when the first spirt of his cum shoots into your walls. He spews apologies when he can’t hold it back, fucking you like a pocket pussy as he chases his relief.

You’re practically melted onto the sheets when you come. Whether it’s from Soobin’s off handed comment or the searing hot feeling of his cum costing your walls, one last clench around his bulbous cock and you’re cumming like a whiny bitch.

Soobin lets you ride it out despite his sensitive nature. The sounds that escape him are more adjacent to his usual tone during sex, soft and needy. The slamming of his hips has slowed to a rocking pace. You both hiss as his sensitive heads prods at your spongy spot.

“You did.. so good for me.” Soobin exhales faintly. He slowly pulls out and your walls clench uncomfortably at the feeling. His hands detach themselves from your body as you fully embrace the soft bedding below you. Getting caught up in the heat of the moment made you forget about how hot you are. The warm flush radiates form your body as you both separate for cool air.

You shift, turning so you can face Soobin. He settles against the pillow next to you, facing the ceiling as he catches his breath.

“What got into you?” You ask with a trace of a laugh. Soobin snickers as he rolls his neck softly. He just shrugs.

'i'm sorry, i know i told you to come over but the boys are coming on and we're all playing league. rain check?"

you stared at the text, blinking hard. reading it again, just to be certain. it stung more than it should, considering you were already around the corner of his apartment with a bag of drinks crinkling in your grip with each hurried step. the air was frigid, and what was initially an assurance of being engulfed beneath the heat of his bare body, now wasn't certain.

'dick.' you muttered to yourself, already too far in to not try your luck. chilled fingers, numbed with more than just the cold, reached out and pressed the buzzer. the electronic buzz droned through your ears, hoping that he wasn't already too invested in his games to ignore you, unintentionally.

the buzzer eventually fell silent, and the click of the lock disengaging echoed in the quiet of the night. with a deep breath that seemed almost as if you were trying to expel your annoyance, you pushed open the door to the apartment building with the bag still tightly clutched in your hand. the burning that eventually began to course through your legs as you scaled the stairs to his apartment, due to the out of order elevator, was a bittersweet relief to the chill that was finally dissipating.

as you finally approached his floor, you found him poking out of his doorway, brows knitted in confusion as he raked his eyes over you. "didn't i just text you? why are you here?" he asked, genuinely baffled. his gaze darted between you and the bag.

you clambered up the final step and tried to play off the breathlessness that had twisted your lungs, "well, i don't know if this is news to you but i don't live just around the corner. i had left before you sent the text." you stated, a barbed edge to your words. perhaps they had come out a bit harsher than you had intended.

with a slight shake of his head, he stepped back and opened the door a bit wider, a tentative gesture. he seemed to be weighing his words carefully, the cogs turning in his head as he debated how to address your supposedly unexpected arrival without causing further annoyance. "come on in then, i guess," he said finally, the words coming out a bit hesitantly, as if he was unsure of your likely reaction.

you stepped through the threshold of his apartment, the familiar scent of his home enveloping you like a warm caress; it was uniquely jin - a mix of his cologne, and something subtly sweet, like the vanilla candles he must've blown out when he thought you weren't coming over anymore.

everything bathed in a soft indigo glow, the only light emanating from the pulsating monitors from his setup, and the lights that bordered the inside of his computer case. it was a scene that had become achingly familiar, a second home at this point. although, usually when you arrived it felt more like an apartment and not an internet cafe.

"sorry. i shouldn't have text you so last minute." jin spoke, before he closed the door behind you both. "but we're doing a tournament tonight so," he continued to ramble on, clearly trying to soften the blow, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, "you're welcome to stay here and hang out, though." he offered, his tone hesitant.

there was a pause, just long enough for you to contemplate his offer. then, before you could form a response he continued.

"stay over. i'll make it up to you in the morning, hmm?" he spoke, much softer. he reached out and allowed his thumb to graze over the side of your cheek, his eyes flicking back and forth between your lips and your eyes. "i was really looking forward to tonight." he added, his hand falling from your face to the bag you were holding and taking it from your grasp to carry to the kitchen. "but, you know... duty calls." he said with a stone expression, trying to amend the situation with dry humor.

"shut up," you said trying to hide your smile. it came out more fond than annoyed, and judging by the smirk tugging at his lips, he definitely noticed.

jin placed the carrier bag on the counter before pulling the headset that was resting around his neck to his ears once again. "help yourself to whatever. if you need anything... don't bother me. especially if it's an emergency." he said dryly, flashing you an impish smile before heading toward his setup. and with a quick tap of the headset, he slipped effortlessly back into the conversation, like he'd never left at all.

you didn't have any reason to be annoyed. you weren't committed, after all. and you were eventually going to get what you had come over for, but it didn't stop the urge to pester him.

it wasn't entirely your fault; you had tried numerous ways of entertaining yourself in his apartment. even at a last resort, trying to sleep, but his walls were entirely too thin and you wondered how his neighbors coped with him. the only possibility you came up with, was that he didn't have any.

still, there were moments, like now when you found yourself listening through the wall, nearly giggling at how animated and irritated he sounded. if this was part of a tournament, it definitely didn't sound like he was winning.

"you're feeding harder than my mom during chuseok. do you know what a lane is, taehyung?" came jin's voice, followed by a sharp thud, likely his hand hitting the desk. then followed a moment of tense silence. "sure. rotate top now. after the turret's gone. that'll definitely save the team."

for a second, you actually pitied him. he'd passed up sex for a match that sounded more like a mental breakdown than a tournament. then the idea hit you. you debated it for a moment or two, considering it was being too generous considering how he had intended to ditch you last minute, but in the end, you decided to go through with it anyway.

traipsing from the bedroom to the lounge where he sat, backlit by the flashing screen in front of him, still continuing to curse out his teammates. you watched with bated breath until the word defeat appeared on the screen, and he leaned back in his chair in the same heavy resignation as that one word.

you approached his setup, and as you got closer, the sounds of shouting, arguing and laughter from the rest of his team buzzed through his headset. jin, however, had fallen into an annoyed silence, his expression tight as he stared at the screen.

as you approached, he caught your movement in his peripheral vision and turned, slightly startled. without a word, he muted his headset and looked at you with lingering frustration, silently hoping you wouldn't ask anything to make it worse.

"did you win?" you asked dryly, with just a hint of hope to make him laugh. he glanced at the screen, then back at you, his expression utterly unmoved.

"we have a few more games," he started softly, voice calm at first. "but taehyung keeps throwing, jungkook keeps ulting minion waves for some reason, yoongi thinks that ganking is..." his frustration simmered beneath the surface, then boiled over, spilling from his lips with sharp, mounting irritation.

"let me help you," you offered, your voice velvety and soft against the backdrop of his annoyed rambling.

"you said you don't play league. i've asked you before." he countered, though the edge in his voice softened, almost as if he was willing to ditch his seemingly hopeless teammates on the chance that you might actually be better.

"no," you almost chuckled, exhaling softly at his somewhat innocent reply. "you play the game. i'll play with... you."

his eyebrows quirked in surprise, pausing for a moment as he processed what you meant. then it clicked.

"oh." he shifted in his seat; not uncomfortably, but undeniably flustered. either that or the sudden rush of heat to his lower abdomen was unexpected. "i can't. i mean, i won't be able to focus. we can't afford to lose these next games," he stammered, even as his gaze swept over you hungrily, his inner bottom lip catching between his teeth. his words and eyes sent two very different messages.

"just turn your mic back on, your next game is starting." you instructed, a natural command despite jin usually instigating. he glanced at you uncertainly before tapping his headset back to life.

"sorry. i just needed a moment," jin muttered as he pushed himself back into the thick of the conversation.

you took it upon yourself to settle onto one of his thighs, your hand dragging slowly over the soft plaid of his pajama pants, now unmistakably tented beneath you.

jin tensed from your touch, but only for a moment. more out of instinct than surprise. his hands stayed on the keyboard, though his fingers hovered uncertainly over the keys. the glow of the monitor lit the subtle twitch in his jaw, his focus flickering.

his mic was still live. his teammates still talking. but you had his attention.

"you're impossible," he muttered under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward like he was trying not to smile.

"i said i'd help," you murmured, voice close enough to send a shiver down his spine. he exhaled through his nose, trying to stay composed. "you did. i just... didn't think you meant right now."

then you could hear what you assumed was yoongi's voice clearly come through the speakers of his headset. "jin? hello? you're just stood there, you're going to get kicked. are you lagging?"

then, taking it upon yourself, you slipped your hand past the waistband of his pants. slow, deliberate, like you weren't about to completely dismantle his focus in a matter of seconds. jin's breath hitched, just barely, and he tilted his head back slightly against the chair, blinking hard at the screen in front of him.

"hyung?" taehyung's voice cut in, "are you afk? why are you just stood there?"

jin's voice cracked once. he cleared his throat before answering, a little too quickly. "i... i'm here. just... give me a second."

"dude," jungkook chimed in, "it's ranked. what are you doing?"

jin sighed, forcing a casual tone as he replied, "sorry, my... keyboard disconnected. it's working now." the lie rolled lazily from his tongue, barely convincing even to himself.

your fingers pressed deliberately, tracing slow, teasing lines over the rigid shaft beneath the fabric of his underwear, feeling the quickening pulse against your palm. jin's breath hitched, a mix of restraint and want barely held in check. his grip on the mouse wavered, the clicks growing more erratic, and his silence spoke volumes.

continuing to palm his needy length, he was leaning into your touch, practically bucking his hips against your hand, desperate for just an ounce more satisfaction. his breaths grew ragged, and every subtle movement was an unspoken plea, raw and unrestrained under your fingertips.

feeling just how hard he was, and watching him try to contain his excitement while multitasking had your own heartbeat quickening low between your legs.

you leaned in closer, lips brushing just beneath his ear. "these are in the way," you murmured, fingers tugging gently at the waistband of both his pajama pants and boxers. he didn't stop you, he didn't even pretend to. once you had stood up from his thigh, he lifted his hips instinctively, eyes flicking between the screen and your hands, his breathing heavier now.

you peeled the fabric down slowly, baring him fully, and watching as his cock sprang free from the confines of his underwear, flushed and heavy, slapping lightly against his lower abdomen. the tip was already glossy with arousal, evidence of just how long he'd been straining for more.

kneeling down and settling between his legs, you wrapped your fingers around him again, now with nothing between you. the heat of him made your breath catch. he twitched in your grasp, sensitive and eager, and you couldn't help but stroke him slowly, just to watch his body react.

a quiet curse slipped from his lips, softer this time. more like a whisper than a complaint. his head tipped back slightly, eyes fluttering closed for a second too long, before he forced himself to glance back at the screen, instead of down at the sight of your hands wrapped around him, his cock looking almost too big, swollen with heat, just shy of brushing your face.

he cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his chair, adjusting the angle of his body like it might somehow mask the fact that you were still touching him. "top lane's warded," he muttered into the mic, voice remarkably steady for someone whose body had just tensed under your palms.

you didn't stop. if anything, your touch grew more purposeful; slow, intentional strokes that made his stomach twitch and his grip on his mouse falter. he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as your lips ghosted just above him, not quite touching, and yet it nearly undid him.

"jungkook, don't push that wave. just wait for me," jin commanded, trying to channel the pressure building inside him into a guise of normalcy.

but the way his hips gave a subtle involuntary jerk told you exactly where his attention was.

he was still pretending. still trying to convince himself he could ride this out, win the match, keep his cool. but the soft noises escaping him; the hitched breaths, the quiet grunts, said otherwise.

jin's usually flawless skin was flushed a soft rose, the heat pooling not just between his legs but spreading up his neck, tinting the delicate curve of his jaw and tips of his ears. a stray lock of dark air had fallen over his forehead, dampened slightly with sweat from the mix of concentration and something more electric.

you watched how his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. the tension in his shoulders was palpable, the muscles twitching under the soft cotton of his pajama shirt, evidence of just how tightly wound he was.

"careful with the bot lane," he muttered distractedly, voice low, almost lost beneath the chorus of his teammate's voices. his fingers hovered awkwardly over the keyboard, betraying the increasingly growing distraction.

your fingers slid lower, using one hand to settle gently against the sensitive skin of his balls. jin's breath hiked, low and sharp, but he stayed silent, determined to keep his mic clear of any giveaway.

slowly, deliberately, you leaned in, your warm tongue tracing a lazy line from the base, flicking over the delicate skin, tasting the salty tang that made his body shiver beneath you. you took your time, teasing him inch by inch, lips wrapping softly around the tip, tongue swirling in slow, tantalizing circles. every subtle movement drew a muted moan from deep in his throat: barely caught before it could escape.

"mid's... pushing... uh, hard..." jin muttered into the mic, stumbling on his words and surprisingly managing to get them all out, his cheeks flushed and betraying just how much he was beginning to lose control.

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes dark with promise. slowly, deliberately, you rose to your feet. turning smoothly, you lowered yourself onto him, the sudden heat and fullness pressing against you almost rendered you breathless. the weight of him inside you was thick and solid. every inch of him filled you up completely. the sensation was overwhelming in the best way. you clasped your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from giving him away.

your knees bent, thighs still aching from the climb upstairs, as you rode him at a tortuously slow pace. the way he filled you completely, thick and hard, while his balls pressed teasingly against your clit sent waves of pure ecstasy coursing through you.

it was at this point the keyboard and mouse lay forgotten, tossed aside with reckless abandon. a soft beep signaled the mic being muted, immediately followed by a low throaty groan that sent a shiver down your spine.

jin's hands gripped your hips firmly, the tension in his fingers betraying his mounting need. without warning, he bucked upward sharply, desperate for more, his movements rough and needy. the sudden thrust sent a jolt straight through you, stealing your breath.

"you're driving me fucking crazy," he breathed out, voice low and rough, "i missed how perfectly you take me, you feel so damn good." he hissed the last words, cussing under his breath like it was the only way he could express himself.

his fingers gripped you tightly, grasping with intent, like he was trying to make up for the time he'd wasted. his breath was hot against your skim uneven, as he rocked up into you, each thrust measured but loaded with urgency.

"i ditched you for this?" he muttered under his breath, almost incredulous, like he couldn't believe his own stupidity. "i'm an idiot. next time i've got a game, remind me just how stupid i am. i want to touch, to taste, to feel every inch of you."

you leaned back into his lap, your spine pressed flush against his chest, the warmth of him anchoring you. your head fell onto his shoulder, lips parting in a breathy gasp as he continued to guide you open and down. he fucked up into you with deliberate force, each thrust dragging a quiet, desperate sound from deep within your throat.

completely unaware of what was happening in the game, jin didn't even glance at the screen. but his teammates clearly noticed; shouts for his attention crackled through the headset, growing more frantic with each second he stayed silent.

you smirked, "how about i turn this back on... let them hear what you're actually busy doing?"

jin let out a strangled noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, burying his face briefly in the crook of your neck. his fingers tightened on your waist, not enough to stop you, just grounding himself.

"please," he muttered, his voice hoarse with effort, "i'd never hear the end of it."

but the way his hips bucked up into you, the way his chest jerked with a shallow gasp at the idea, it gave away just how not-against it he actually was.

before you could tease him any further, he ripped the headset off, tossing it carelessly onto the desk. "fuck the game," he muttered, voice dripping with desire. "i'm done pretending i'm paying attention."

jin's hands didn't hesitate. with a rough tug, he lifted you from his lap and spun you around, guiding you until your palms were flat against the edge of his desk. lining himself up behind you, the angle perfect; every vein, and curve of his cock pressing deep inside you. the desk rocked under the force as he drove his hips forward.

jin's chest tightened and he could feel the growing tension in his abdomen as each stroke sent an electric jolt to his core, the tight heat around him almost too much to bear. his mind blurred, nothing but the slick, warm press of you, the sound of your ragged breaths mixing with his own. he could feel the coil in his stomach snap, heat pooling low and spreading fast. his muscles tensed, hips stuttering as he chased the edge, voice rough and barely more than a growl.

his body shuddered violently, pulse pounding in his ears as he spilled inside you, breath catching on a ragged gasp. he held you close, whispering soft shaky words; half apology, half worship.

you were still riding the high of the moment, breath shallow and skin tingling from where his hands had been buried in your hips. your body was so close, teetering on the edge, but the tension hadn't quite broken yet. you had spent so long exploring each other's bodies that he knew when you were there, and when you still needed him to get you there

he buried his chin into the crook of your neck. "come shower with me, i'm not finished with you just yet," he spoke coyly, peppering kisses to your neck. you shivered at the warmth of his breath, the teasing touch of his lips sending your nervous system into disarray.

You padded softly down the basement stairs of the house you shared with Mingyu, the cool wooden steps familiar under your bare feet. The air grew warmer as you descended, carrying the faint scent of clean sweat and the metallic tang of iron weights. It was late afternoon, sunlight filtering through the small high windows in narrow golden beams that cut across the home gym Mingyu had set up with so much pride.

He had turned one of the larger basement rooms into his personal sanctuary shortly after you two moved in together: mirrors lining one wall, a rack of neatly organized dumbbells and plates, a treadmill in the corner and the centerpiece: the adjustable weight bench with its sturdy black padding and chrome frame. Mingyu called it his "little kingdom" and on most days, it was filled with the rhythmic clank of metal and his occasional triumphant grunts.

Today, though, the sounds were different.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs, tilting your head. Instead of the steady rhythm of reps, you heard a heavy sigh, followed by the dull thud of a barbell being racked with more force than necessary. Then silence, broken only by his low muttering. "...come on, what the hell..."

Your heart tugged a little. Mingyu had been training hard this week, preparing for a upcoming photoshoot and some dance practices that required him to stay in peak condition. He was always disciplined, but he was also kind to himself on most off days. Something felt off today.

You stepped into the room quietly, your oversized t-shirt (one of his, of course) brushing against your thighs. He was sitting on the edge of the bench, elbows on his knees, head hanging low so that his damp dark hair fell forward, hiding his eyes. His grey tank top clung to his broad chest and shoulders, darkened with sweat along the collar and under his arms. The veins in his forearms stood out prominently from the effort he’d already put in. His black shorts rode up slightly on his thighs and even in frustration, the sight of him made warmth bloom in your belly.

But right now, it wasn’t desire that hit you first, it was concern.

"Mingyu?" you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head snapped up. For a split second, his handsome face brightened at the sight of you, those sharp eyes softening, the corners of his lips twitching toward a smile. Then the frustration settled back in, clouding his expression like a shadow.

"Hey, baby" he said, voice a little rough from exertion. He tried to sound casual, wiping his face with the small towel draped over his shoulder. "Didn’t hear you come down."

You crossed the room, the rubber mats cool and springy under your feet. Stopping in front of him, you reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. His skin was warm, flushed from the workout.

"I brought you some water and a protein shake" you said, holding up the bottle and shaker you’d prepared upstairs. "Figured you might be getting thirsty after... how long have you been down here?"

He took the water with a grateful nod but didn’t open it right away. Instead, he set it on the floor beside the bench. "Couple hours. Lost track."

You glanced at the barbell still loaded on the rack above the bench. The plates looked heavier than what he usually warmed up with on chest day. From the way the bench was adjusted and the sweat soaking through his shirt, he’d clearly been pushing hard.

"Everything okay?" you asked gently, stepping between his spread knees so you could cup his face with both hands. Your thumbs stroked along his sharp jawline. "You sound... frustrated."

Mingyu let out a short, humorless laugh and leaned into your touch for a moment before pulling back slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, pushing it back.

"I can’t lift for shit today" he admitted, voice low and edged with annoyance. "Bench press, my usual working weight feels like it’s doubled. I barely got through three reps without my form going to hell. Shoulders are burning already, and my chest just... won’t activate right. It’s like my body decided to betray me out of nowhere."

You frowned, glancing at the bar again. Mingyu was incredibly strong; he prided himself on his consistency. He followed a solid five-day split, hitting chest, back, shoulders, arms and legs with focused intensity. Off days happened, but he rarely let them rattle him this much.

"Maybe it’s just an off day" you offered, keeping your tone light and soothing. You knew how he could get when his perfectionist side kicked in. "You’ve been going hard all week. The photoshoot prep, those extra dance rehearsals... your body might just need a break."

He shook his head, jaw tightening. "I don’t have time for off days. The shoot is in ten days. I need to look sharp, defined, strong. Not like I slacked off." His gaze dropped to his own arms, flexing one unconsciously as if testing it. The muscle popped impressively, but he scowled anyway. "Feels weak. Like I’m back to rookie levels or something. Pathetic."

The self-criticism in his voice made your chest ache. This was classic Mingyu, the guy who was confident and playful most of the time, the one who could light up any room with his bright smile and easy laughter, but who also held himself to impossibly high standards. He was husband material through and through: attentive, protective, always making sure you were taken care of. But when it came to himself, especially his body and performance, he could be his own harshest critic.

You slid your hands down to his shoulders, feeling the tension knotted there. "Hey. Look at me."

He did, reluctantly. Those warm brown eyes met yours, frustration in them alongside a hint of vulnerability he rarely showed anyone else.

"You are not weak" you said firmly, squeezing his delts. "You’re human. Even Mingyu Kim gets tired sometimes. Remember last month when you pulled that muscle during leg day and still tried to power through? You took two rest days and came back stronger. This is the same thing."

He sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. The contact was warm and grounding. "I know. Logically, I know. But it pisses me off. I was supposed to hit a new PR on incline today. Instead, I’m racking the bar like a beginner after six reps. My mind’s in it, but the muscles just aren’t cooperating."

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He hummed softly at the touch, some of the tension easing from his broad frame. Being this close, you could smell his familiar scent: clean sweat mixed with the faint woody cologne he always wore, even to the gym.

"Want me to spot you on the next set?" you offered, though you both knew you couldn’t actually handle his heavy loads. It was more about the gesture.

Mingyu chuckled against your shirt, the sound vibrating through you. "You’d get crushed, baby. Cute offer, though."

You smiled and tilted his chin up again. "Then talk to me. What’s really bothering you? Is it just the weights, or is there more?"

He was quiet for a long moment, thumbs absently tracing circles on the backs of your thighs where his hands had settled. "It’s stupid. The company’s been riding everyone about visuals lately. With the comeback preparations overlapping with solo schedules... I just want to feel in control, you know? Like I can push my body and it listens. Today it’s not. Makes me feel... off. Like I’m letting myself down."

Your heart swelled with affection. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, then one to the tip of his nose and finally a lingering one on his lips. He kissed you back gently, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

"You’re not letting anyone down" you whispered against his mouth. "Least of all me. I love you exactly like this: sweaty, frustrated and still the strongest, kindest man I know."

Mingyu’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile at that. "You always know what to say." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist so you were half-sitting on one of his thighs. The muscle flexed beneath you, solid and warm. "Thanks for coming down. I was just sitting here sulking like an idiot."

"Not an idiot" you corrected, nuzzling into his neck. "Just my big, dramatic boyfriend who thinks the world ends if he can’t bench 130 kilos today."

He laughed properly then, the rich sound filling the gym and chasing away the last of the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, it was 135 last month. Don’t sell me short."

You grinned, happy to see the spark return to his eyes. For the next twenty minutes, you stayed with him, handing him lighter weights when he decided to switch to accessory work, counting reps out loud in an exaggerated cheerleader voice that made him roll his eyes and laugh, and stealing kisses between sets. He did some lighter dumbbell presses, focusing on form and mind-muscle connection rather than ego-lifting. You could see the frustration gradually melting as he moved, your presence a steady anchor.

At one point, he pulled you onto his lap fully while he rested between sets, his large hands splaying across your back under the t-shirt. "You’re too good to me" he murmured, voice softer now. "I don’t deserve how patient you are when I get like this."

"You deserve everything" you replied, tracing the line of his collarbone with a fingertip. "And I love taking care of you. Even when you’re being a grumpy gym rat."

He squeezed your hips playfully. "Careful. Calling me grumpy might get you in trouble later."

The teasing glint in his eye sent a little thrill through you, but you kept things light for now.

Eventually, Mingyu stood, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. His tank top rode up, revealing the defined V of his hips and the trail of dark hair disappearing into his shorts. You tried not to stare too obviously.

"Think I’m done for today" he announced, wiping down the bench with a spray and cloth. "No point forcing it and risking injury. Tomorrow’s a new day."

You nodded approvingly, helping him rack the lighter plates. "Smart choice. How about we head upstairs? I’ll make you that chicken breast you like and we can watch something dumb on TV."

Mingyu turned to you, pulling you into a full hug this time. His body enveloped yours completely: tall, broad and radiating heat. "Sounds perfect. But first..." He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a deeper kiss than before. It started sweet but lingered, his tongue brushing yours just enough to promise more. When he pulled back, his voice had dropped an octave. "Thanks for grounding me, baby. Really."

You smiled up at him, heart full. "Always."

You didn’t even make it up the stairs.

Mingyu’s arm was still slung around your shoulders when he suddenly stopped at the threshold of the gym, turning you gently but firmly back toward the room. The overhead lights hummed softly, casting a warm glow over the mirrors and equipment. His body heat radiated against your side and when you looked up at him, the frustration that had clouded his face earlier had shifted into something darker, hungrier.

"Actually" he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges "I’m not ready to go upstairs yet."

Before you could ask why, his large hand cupped the back of your neck and he pulled you into a kiss that stole the air from your lungs.

It wasn’t the soft, comforting press of lips from earlier. This kiss was deep, demanding, laced with all the pent-up energy he hadn’t been able to burn off with iron. His mouth moved against yours with purpose, tongue sliding in to taste you as if he needed this more than oxygen. You gasped softly into the kiss, hands coming up to grip his damp tank top, fingers curling into the fabric stretched tight over his chest.

Mingyu groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. He walked you backward without breaking the kiss until your back met the cool mirrored wall. The contrast of cold glass against your heated skin made you shiver. His body pressed flush against yours, solid, towering, every hard-earned muscle molded to your softer curves.

"Fuck, baby" he breathed against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to speak. His forehead rested against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark. "You coming down here, being all sweet and patient with me… it’s driving me crazy in a different way now."

Your heart raced. You could feel the shift in him, the frustration from his failed lifts transforming into raw, restless need. His hands roamed down your sides, slipping under the hem of his oversized top you wore, palms hot against your bare waist.

"Mingyu…" you whispered, but it came out more like a plea.

He kissed you again, harder this time, one thigh sliding between your legs to press up against your core. The thick muscle flexed deliberately and even through the thin fabric of your panties, the pressure sent sparks shooting up your spine. You moaned softly, grinding down instinctively.

"That’s it" he murmured, lips trailing along your jaw to your ear. "Let me hear you. Been thinking about this since you walked in looking so fucking cute in my shirt."

His words sent heat flooding between your thighs. You tilted your head to give him better access and he took full advantage, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot just below your ear before nipping it gently. One of his hands slid higher under your shirt, cupping your breast and thumbing over your nipple until it pebbled under his touch. The other hand gripped your hip, guiding your movements as you rocked against his thigh.

The gym felt smaller suddenly, the air thicker. The scent of his sweat mixed with the faint smell of rubber mats and metal. In the mirror beside you, you caught glimpses of the two of you: his broad back flexing, your legs parted around his thigh, his dark hair messy from your fingers.

Mingyu pulled back just enough to tug your shirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere behind him. You stood in just your panties now, the cool air kissing your skin. His eyes raked over you hungrily, pupils blown wide.

"God, you’re beautiful" he said, voice reverent even as his hands were anything but gentle. He palmed both breasts, squeezing and rolling your nipples between his fingers until you whimpered. "All mine."

You reached for his tank top, yanking it upward. He helped you, peeling it off and revealing the glistening expanse of his torso: defined pecs, ridged abs, the deep cuts of his obliques leading down to the waistband of his shorts. Sweat still clung to his skin, making every muscle shine under the lights. Even frustrated with his workout, he looked like a god.

Your hands explored him greedily, tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. When your fingers dipped lower, brushing over the bulge straining against his shorts, he hissed through his teeth.

"Careful" he warned, though his hips bucked forward into your touch. "I’m already on edge."

"Good" you whispered, squeezing him through the fabric. "Let it out. Use me to get rid of all that frustration."

Something snapped in his gaze. With a low growl, Mingyu lifted you effortlessly, those strong arms that had struggled with the barbell earlier now wrapping around your thighs as he carried you the few steps to the weight bench. He set you down on the padded surface, the leather cool against your heated skin. The bench was still slightly angled from his earlier incline presses, perfect for what he clearly had in mind.

He stood between your spread legs, looking down at you like you were his favorite meal. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he leaned down to kiss you again: messy, wet, tongues tangling. Then he dropped to his knees on the rubber mat, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders.

"Mingyu-" you started, but the words died in a sharp moan when his mouth found your core through the thin panties. He licked a broad stripe up the fabric, tasting your arousal, before pulling the material aside with his teeth. The first direct touch of his tongue against your clit had your back arching off the bench.

He ate you out like a man starved: long, slow licks followed by quick flicks, sucking your clit into his mouth and humming in satisfaction at the way you cried out. Two thick fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling expertly against that spot that made stars burst in front of your eyes. His free hand pressed down on your lower stomach, holding you in place as you squirmed.

"Fuck, you’re so wet already" he groaned against your folds, the vibrations making you clench around his fingers. "All this just from comforting your frustrated boyfriend? So good for me."

You couldn’t form words, only broken moans and his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you relentlessly, fingers pumping faster, tongue never letting up. The wet sounds of his mouth on you filled the gym, obscene and intoxicating. Your hands fisted in his hair, hips bucking up to meet every thrust of his tongue.

When the coil in your belly tightened unbearably, he sensed it, doubling his efforts until you shattered with a cry. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, thighs trembling around his head as he licked you through it, drawing out every last pulse.

You were still panting, boneless, when he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His shorts tented obscenely, a dark wet spot forming at the front from his own leaking arousal. He shoved them down along with his boxers in one motion, his cock springing free: thick, long, flushed dark at the tip and already glistening.

Mingyu stroked himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours. "Need you. Now."

You nodded eagerly, reaching for him. He climbed onto the bench with you, the frame creaking slightly under his weight but holding steady. The bench was narrow, forcing your bodies to press tightly together. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you whined.

Then he pushed in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open. The fullness was overwhelming in the best way. When he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, breathing hard.

"Shit… so tight. Always so perfect for me."

He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move: deep, powerful thrusts that rocked the bench beneath you. Each snap of his hips drove him impossibly deeper, the angle of the inclined bench hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the mirrors, mixed with your moans and his low grunts.

Mingyu’s pace was relentless, frustration and need pouring out of him with every thrust. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, angling you exactly how he wanted. Sweat dripped from his hair onto your chest as he leaned over you, mouth latching onto one nipple and sucking hard while he pounded into you.

"Take it, baby" he growled against your skin. "Take all my frustration. Let me fuck it out on this pretty pussy."

You cried out, nails raking down his back, leaving red lines across his shoulders. The pleasure built again, fast and intense, your walls fluttering around his thick length. He shifted slightly, one foot planted on the floor for better leverage, driving into you even harder.

The bench creaked rhythmically beneath you. In the mirror across the room, you watched the reflection, his powerful body moving over yours, muscles flexing with every thrust, your legs wrapped high around his waist. The sight alone pushed you closer to the edge.

Mingyu reached between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles. "Come on, cum for me again. Want to feel you squeezing my cock."

You shattered a second time, vision whiting out as your orgasm ripped through you. Your walls clenched rhythmically around him, pulling a deep moan from his chest.

"Fuck...yes, just like that..." He fucked you through it, pace faltering as his own release built. His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, chasing his high. "Gonna fill you up. Gonna cum so deep..."

With a broken groan of your name, Mingyu buried himself to the hilt and came hard. You felt the hot pulses of his release inside you, his hips stuttering as he rode it out, grinding against you to prolong the pleasure.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the lights. Mingyu collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you with his full weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His cock was still twitching inside you, softening slowly.

You stroked his back gently, fingers tracing the sweat-slick muscles. "Feel better?" you asked softly, voice hoarse.

He let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lazy kiss to your throat. "So much better. You’re magic, you know that?"

You smiled, turning your head to kiss his temple. "Anytime you need to work out frustration…the bench is right here."

Mingyu lifted his head, eyes sparkling with a mix of satisfaction and renewed mischief despite the exhaustion. "Careful. I might take you up on that every off day."

He kissed you slowly, tenderly this time, deep and lingering, full of love rather than raw need. When he finally pulled out, a trickle of his cum followed and he watched it with dark fascination before grabbing his discarded towel to gently clean you both.

The two of you stayed on the bench for a while longer, tangled together in the afterglow. He pulled you half on top of his chest, one arm wrapped securely around you while the other hand stroked your hair. The gym, which had started the afternoon filled with his frustration, now felt warm and intimate.

"Love you" he whispered against your hair.

"Love you more" you replied, pressing a kiss to his pec.

Eventually, the sweat started to cool on your skin and Mingyu chuckled. "Okay, now we can go upstairs. Shower together?"

You nodded, but neither of you moved right away. The bench had served its purpose today, not just for lifting weights, but for lifting the weight off his mind.

Now, Seokjin isn’t a bad teacher, not at all; he’s incredibly smart in his subject, and all of his students tend to pass. All except you. It’s nothing against Seokjin, you think he’s a brilliant teacher, and you love attending his classes.

The problem is that he’s too fucking attractive. You spend more time ogling his handsome features and broad shoulders than paying attention to the topic; fantasising about how it’d feel to have your legs hooked over them as he pounds harshly in–

You’re snapped from yet another daydream staring Kim Seokjin, by the man himself as he calls your name firmly. You can’t clear your mind of the aroused fog it’s in fast enough to even attempt to give him a sheepish smile, embarrassed about once again getting caught with your head in the clouds during his class. “Can you at least pretend to pay attention for once?” he scolds, giving you a stern, disapproving look.

“Sorry,” you mumble, tongue flicking out to wet your suddenly dry lips. You could swear that Seokjin’s eyes follow the movement of your tongue as it peeks out. But can your horny mind be trusted to see things correctly right now? Not really.

“Hm, right; you say that every time,” he returns, scoffing in disbelief as he puts his hands on his hips. “Stay after class,” he demands, and you can only nod meekly; his dominant aura making your thighs clench. The sign of agreement satisfies Seokjin enough to allow him to return to his teaching, believing that he has your attention, at least for the remaining twenty minutes of class. Oh, how wrong he is.

The moment that Seokjin’s attention is back on everyone but you, your mind is already slipping back into your fantasies, his demand for you to stay behind only fuelling your dirty thoughts. Seokjin is known throughout the university for letting his students out of class early, he never asks anyone to stay behind. He isn’t much older than the majority of the students, so he remembers how tough university was, and he doesn’t want to give anyone extra stress by being forced to stay after class. So, the fact he’s told you to stay behind, well, you think you can be forgiven for letting your mind run away with that thought.

If only he knew the images of him you hold in your mind, he certainly wouldn’t want to encourage it by keeping you behind. What teacher would?

Only minutes after returning to his lecture, Seokjin’s eyes happen to glance over to you, and he can’t help but sigh as he spots the glassed-over look in your eyes, telling him that you’re already away with the fairies.

He hasn’t the faintest idea why you struggle to pay attention in his class. He worries that he bores you, so he’s tried to move around the room more; has brought in more hands-on activities to keep you, in particular, focused.

You’re the only student failing his class and he doesn’t understand why. He’s paid you so much attention, left you notes with tips on studying and websites for extra information. During class, without fail, he always places a copy of the lessons notes— his personal notes— on your desk in front of you; but you either ignore them entirely or push them into your bag mindlessly at the end of class with your own papers without even looking at them. He always sees masses of paper sticking out of your notebook every class, but they never seem to move.

He can’t help but wonder if you even look at the worksheets he’s spent so long making specifically for you. He even had a friend teach him how to draw the characters he’s seen on your clothing and accessories, so that he can doodle them onto the worksheets in hopes of catching your interest. But the worksheets never move, and your grades are getting worse.

To make matters worse, Seokjin knows that you pay attention in literally every class you take and never fail any assignments for any but his. One day, he had searched up your class schedule on the university system and stood outside various classroom doors to peer through the window and watch you, just to see if you have the same issue of losing focus in other classes. You never do.

Seokjin takes your failing and absent mind personally, as if it’s something he’s done to warrant such a response, and he wants to get to the bottom of it. No way will he allow such a capable student to fail yet another term of his class.

Unlike every other day, you don’t come out of the fantasies when Seokjin dismisses class, making your fellow students get up and scramble to leave. The class is already a late one, finishing at 6pm, so all of the students are eager to get out of the university and go about their personal lives.

Seokjin watches you curiously from where he’s leaning against the edge of his desk. Even as other students leave, bigging him goodbye and wishes of a good evening, his eyes don’t leave you despite his mouth moving to return the well wishes.

For a further five minutes after everyone has left, he continues to silently watch you in curious wonder. Though, realising that you’re too deep in your mind to notice that the room is empty other than the two of you, he pushes his body off the furniture to stalk over and stand in front of your desk. For the first time, your eyes follow his movement, yet they’re still glassy, and he knows your mind isn’t with him, even if your sight is.

As he leans down to grip either side of your desk to be closer to eye level with you, he suddenly realises just how pretty you are.

Of course, Seokjin isn’t blind, he can tell when a student is attractive, but that’s it; his mind registers an attractive student in an abstract, off handed kind of way, and that’s where it stops. Despite student-teacher relationships in the university not being against the rules exactly— therefore, not a fireable offense—, they’re still greatly frowned upon. Seokjin knows this, so he’s never once even considered a student in any way but as a student; someone to teach and guide academically.

But standing over you like this; your eyes wide and glossy as you stare up at him, cheeks flushed, and lips parted; for the first time, Seokjin’s mind wanders. He can’t help but think how pretty you’d look spread out by his hands under his body, utterly fucked out.

Before the thought can progress into a fantasy, he shakes his head softly and clears his throat— it’s suddenly too dry considering he had gulped down the contents of his water bottle at the end of class.

The sudden noise breaks you out of your fantasies with a little jolt. Blinking rapidly, your gaze comes back into focus. “Oh,” you breathe out, finding Seokjin so close to you, causing excitement to crawl through your body. You’ve never been so close to the man, and he only looks even more delectable the closer you get. “Mr. Kim.”

He says your name in response, once again clearing his throat when his voice cracks on the syllables. “Are you finished with your daydreaming now?” You suck your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod shyly, embarrassed as per usual about being called out. Without even having the chance to try to stop it from happening, Seokjin’s gaze drops down to eye your mouth, in a way far too obvious to miss.

You watch his throat bob heavily as he swallows thickly while watching your lip slowly slip out from the light grasp of your teeth. “Sir?” you question softly. Your voice sounds so innocent, barely a whisper, and it sends Seokjin’s mind whirling.

Oh, how he’d love to fucking wreck you; hear his name tumble so sweetly from those pretty lips of yours.

“Go home,” he suddenly says when he realises how his mind is running away with his filthy thoughts. He drops his head down so that he doesn’t have to look at you; he fears he’ll lose all sanity if he looks at you a moment longer.

“Sir?” you repeat, more bewildered this time. After all, he told you to stay behind, and now he’s telling you to leave. What’s his problem?

Seokjin’s mental strength slips a little further out of his grasp. Why do you have to keep calling him that in that innocent voice? You’re pretty much begging him to bend you over that very desk and have his way with you. He can’t handle that and needs you to stop before he truly loses his mind.

If only he knew you’ve imagined that very scenario many times already.

“Why are you calling me that?” he groans, almost whining.

“What? Sir?” He nods, and you tilt your head, confused eyes glaring into the top of his head. “Because…you’re my teacher,” you answer simply.

“And?!” he snaps, lifting his head to stare at you with wild eyes that dance madly over your features. The crazed expression makes you jolt a little in shock; he genuinely looks seconds away from losing his mind. “You shouldn’t call men things like that so easily!” he lectures. “Don’t you understand what it does to a man when a woman like you calls him such a thing?” Seokjin doesn’t know why he’s being so blunt, so open and honest with you, but he simply can’t stop himself.

“A woman like me?” you question, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You look down at your seated form with a little frown. “What’s wrong with me?”

All at once, Seokjin’s body cools down instead of burning up, and he calms dramatically. “What? Nothing is wrong with you. Why would you think anything is wrong with you?” he questions in an utterly bewildered murmur.

“You said a woman like me shouldn’t say those things,” you explain with your eyes glued to your fingers as you fiddle with the hem of your hoodie, thinking about what could be so wrong with you; maybe you could dress better; maybe you could make more of an effort. The thought makes you shrink dejectedly. A guy like Seokjin could never find a woman like you appealing.

“And that made you think something is wrong with you?” You don’t respond, you don’t need to. Your answer is obvious by the way you’ve curled in on yourself; an attempt to make yourself smaller, less visible. Seokjin says your name gently, gingerly reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, though you turn your head away out of his touch to prevent him from tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Look at me,” he demands firmly.

Just like that, you stop pulling away and allow him to direct your line of sight to his face. You submit so easily to him, and it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Don’t you ever think that something is wrong with you,” he says, voice so soft and soothing, so honest, full of unspoken meaning, that your heart thrums and your cheeks speckle with a pretty blush. “You’re beautiful.” His gaze dances over your features, taking his time to memorise every little freckle, every little imperfection for when he’s home alone and needs to remember how your face alone has sent heat tingling through his body. “So beautiful.”

How has he gone through so many months already with you in his class without truly noticing your beauty? He doesn’t know, but he knows he’ll never stop noticing now.

“Sir…” you gasp at his words; never could you have expected the living definition of beautiful to utter such words to you. You can tell he means them too.

“I told you not to call me that,” he reminds, eyes turning stern again as they lock with your own.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why I can’t,” you reason, lips pouting in confusion. He has to fight the urge to pounce forward and suck your bottom lip between his own.

“How can such a beautiful woman be so clueless about the effect you have on men?” He chuckles softly and then backs up in fear that he won’t be able to take his hand from your face if he hovers a minute longer. Your head tilts in confusion, and eyebrows furrow. “I think it’s best you go home now,” he declares, turning on his heel and returning to his desk, where he has a stack of papers from another class that he needs to mark before he can go home.

“Not until you tell me why I can’t call you sir,” you argue, voice surprisingly firm.

As Seokjin sits in his chair, he looks up at you with raised eyebrows, finding you still sitting at your desk, stubbornly refusing to pack up your belongings to leave. “Go.”

“No.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch in amusement. You’re being so unbelievably stubborn for someone who was so quick to obey his words only minutes before.

“I’m not moving, Sir.”

Seokjin’s smile drops, and he sighs heavily. “Fine, but you’re not getting an answer. Sit there all night for all I care; I have papers to grade.” With that, he gets to work, picking up his trusty marking pen, and bending over the first assignment in the stack.

Yet knowing that you’re sitting there, only metres away, he can’t focus.

A groan of frustration leaves his throat, and he rubs his neck as he fights the urge to look up at you. He can feel your gaze locked on him, and it kind of irks him; you’re suddenly paying him so much attention at the one time he wants none of it.

“Stop staring,” he mutters, easily loud enough for you hear in the otherwise silent room, while he tries to reread the student’s answer for the fifth time. He still can’t make sense of it though; his mind is entirely stuck on you.

“I don’t want to, Sir.”

He knows you’re doing it just to wind him up. You want your answer and intend to play up until you get it. You’re being a little brat, and he kind of loves it.

“You don’t want to push me, little one,” he warns, glancing up at you over his glasses, giving you such a dark look that you visibly shiver. Fuck, you like it. The realisation forces him to put his hand under the desk to try to resituate the growing problem in his pants into less of an annoyance. “Are you going to be a good girl and go home?” he tries.

“I’ll leave when you tell me why I can’t call you sir, Sir,” you retort. And it makes him give up with marking, with restraining himself.

Seokjin leans back in his chair while tossing his pen onto the desk carelessly. “Get over here,” he orders. His cock twitches at the enthusiastic speed you scramble out of your chair to rush over and stand on the opposite site of the desk to him. “No, little one, here,” he corrects, motioning to his side.

You’re a little hesitant at first but obediently shuffle around the desk to stand beside his chair. “Yes, Sir?” you ask, wanting another order so desperately.

“Hands on the desk.” You tilt your head questioningly. “Be a good girl.” You nod and turn to place both palms flat on the desk so that you’re facing out over the empty room. “Hmm, lean over.” You do, leaning further over the desk, meaning your ass sticks out, and Seokjin watches closely, appreciating the way your little shorts cling to your backside. “Stay like that until I tell you to move. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Seokjin smiles in approval and pushes his chair back, grinning when you don’t even try to look over your shoulder and see what he’s doing. You listen so well; it makes him so fucking hard.

Seokjin wheels his chair until he’s directly behind you, then adjusts the height until he’s sitting eye level with your ass. “You’ve been bad, you know this, don’t you, little one?” he hums, hands resting on his spread thighs, but fingers twitching with the urge to touch the expanse of your exposed thighs.

“I have?” you question in wonder, truly not aware of what he’s referring to.

“Yes, little one,” he confirms.

“Oh… When, Sir?”

“That is the most recent behaviour; refusing to listen when I told you to stop.” You remain quiet. “Will you admit to that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And yet you still say it?”

“You haven’t explained, Sir.”

Seokjin chuckles lowly; you sure are stubborn for a submissive woman. “You never pay attention in my class,” he continues, allowing his fingers some relief by dancing them along the outside of your thighs directly above your knees, but only an inch or so before returning downwards and mindlessly stroking at your outer knees.

“I don’t mean to daydream, Sir.”

“You pay attention in every other class; I’ve checked up on you.”

That surprises you and makes you pause momentarily. “…You have?”

“Mmhmm, I had to see if it’s just your natural behaviour, or if you hate my class that much.”

“I don’t hate your class,” you argue, voice full of such honesty that Seokjin’s hands stop absently moving against your soft skin.

“You don’t?”

“No; I think you’re a brilliant teacher.”

“Then why are you failing?”

You don’t respond, not wanting to tell him the truth, too embarrassed. Though, as soon as his hands leave you with the intention of relocating his chair, you speak up quickly, not wanting him to move away. “I have trouble concentrating in your class. I try hard, but I can’t. I…have too many fantasies, Sir,” you confess, still a bit embarrassed but also feeling paradoxically shameless. At this point, you’ll confess to anything as long as he keeps touching you.

“Fantasies?” he encourages, voice low as his hands return to your legs. Seokjin never expected you to say that you fantasise throughout his class, and his heart pounds with the hope that he stars in them. It’s only logical to assume that you think about him, after all, it’s only his class that you daydream in.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What about?” You whine softly in response, clearly in no rush to answer, though it quickly turns into a yelp when his palm suddenly connects with your inner thigh. “Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry, I–” he tries to apologise, panicking over his own actions. He had reacted instinctively, wanting to put you in your place; a place you don’t even have being his student, but fuck does he wish you did.

“You! I fantasise about you!” you blurt out the confession, the breathless tone telling him that maybe, you like the situation as much as he does, and you’re far from opposed to the little slap on your thigh. “Sir,” you add on almost as an afterthought, though it doesn’t sound bratty anymore, more like you know that he likes hearing it; that you’ve finally figured it out.

“Fuck,” he curses, fingers digging into your flesh slightly as he grips you as if testing you, testing that the situation is real. “Me? You fantasise about me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Doing what? What am I doing?”

“Me.” If you weren’t already driving him crazy, he would’ve laughed at your simple answer, but it only fuels his arousal. Seokjin groans softly, dropping his head forward to press his face into your lower back. You gasp softly in surprise, but don’t argue or react otherwise.

“You’ve been failing my class because you’ve been fantasising about me fucking you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Fuck!” he repeats, suddenly getting up, kicking his chair aside out of the way. “This is why you can’t call me sir.” For a split second, you’re confused, that is until his hips are pressed against your ass and you can feel his hard length against you. A shuddering, excited breath shakes your chest as you inhale. “You fantasised about feeling this, huh? My cock in you, little one?”

“Y–yes. Fuck, yes, Sir,” you’re almost slurring, mind spinning as you push your hips back to grind against his erection.

“Oh, shit, don’t,” he warns, but his large hands holding your hips tight say the opposite thing to his words. “S–stop.” You don’t.

“Why, Sir?”

“Because I’m your teacher.”

“Then teach me how to make you cum, Sir.”

The innocent tone you use, matched with the dirty words, sends a shudder through his body. “Oh, fuck.” Seokjin’s hands grip you tighter, pulling you back as he rolls his hips against you. “What’s your biggest fantasy? How do you imagine me fucking you the most?”

“On your desk, Sir.”

“Yeah?” You hum in confirmation, head bobbing along too. “Like this?” Seokjin grinds his hips forward, mimicking how he would fuck you. You suck in a shark breath, thighs shaking with arousal. You’re certain your underwear are soaked through and your shorts growing damp; you’re so fucking wet for him.

“Like this.” You move forward to press your hips against the edge of the desk, widening your stance while leaning down onto your elbows around the papers, making your back curve and thrust your ass further out.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Seokjin groans at the sight of you; his wide, lust blown eyes raking over your figure greedily. The angle of your hips, and that they’re no longer pressed against him, exposes the growing damp patch between your thighs to his hungry gaze. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are already.” He moves one hand to press his fingers to the patch, making you whine needily and press back against him. “You want me bad, huh, little one?”

“Yes, so fucking bad,” you mumble shamelessly. “Please fuck me, Sir.”

Seokjin freezes: he never expected you to beg for it, yet here you are, proving to be the perfect fuck. “You asked so nicely, how can I say no?”

Your thighs shake with excitement, knowing that you’re finally getting to live out your fantasy; something you truly never thought would happen.

“Strip,” he orders as he steps back away from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. You don’t hesitate to respond, straightening up to remove your hoodie and toss it carelessly to the floor. “Wait,” Seokjin says, and you fall still. Suddenly, his hands are on your waist, lips coming down to trace an invisible line along the side of your neck and across our shoulder. “Do you always wear hoodies without anything underneath?” he asks, hands sliding around over your bare stomach to reach up and cup both of your exposed breasts in his warm hands.

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck; I’m never going to be able to focus on class now I know that.”

“Sometimes, I don’t wear panties either,” you tease with a smirk on your lips.

Seokjin groans against your skin as he grinds his still covered cock against your ass. “Are you today?”

“Yes.”

“Next time, don’t.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As soon as he steps back, you lift your hands to your hips to hook your fingers under the waistband of both your shorts and underwear and slide them together down your legs to pool by your feet, then kick aside.

“I should’ve told you to stay behind sooner,” Seokjin says with a breathless chuckle as he admires the sight of your fully naked back. “Turn, let me see you.” Of course, you do, and turn to face him, only to realise that he’s still fully dressed, his belt is still securely latched into the buckle. He notices where your attention lays and looks down too. “Oh, right.”

Before he can return to work, you’re directly infront of him and pulling his belt free in seconds. Seokjin can only watch gobsmacked by how easily you remove the item; he always struggles with that particular belt.

“You look so hard, Sir,” you comment as your hands work on his button and zipper.

“Thanks to you.”

“Then maybe I should do something about it, hm?” Seokjin opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already on your knees and tugging down the material to free the object of your desire to your hungry graze. “You’re so big,” you coo, reaching out to wrap one hand around his thick length. Seokjin sucks in a shaky breath at your touch. “You’re going to feel so good pounding into me.”

“Shut up,” he groans. “Don’t talk like that.” His head tips back as you start to work your hand up and down his shaft at a leisurely pace, enjoying touching him for the first— and hopefully not last— time.

“Don’t you like dirty talk, Sir? You’re awfully good at it.”

“I–I can’t. Not right now,” he admits, knowing he’ll reach his end way too fast if he allows you to continue talking dirty to him. You make everything sound so delightfully sinful that he can hardly breathe. “Later?”

That makes your hand stop. “As in… We can do this again?” you question nervously, all confidence gone as you look up at him through your lashes. Seokjin lifts his head to look down at you. “What if… What if you don’t like it?”

“I’m this hard without you touching me, I doubt I won’t like fucking you,” he chuckles.

“Are you sure?”

“Just suck my cock already,” he chuckles again, darker this time as he smirks down at you.

And just like that, you’re back to being his submissive little one, ready to please. “Yes, Sir.” Eagerly, you dive forward, taking as much of his thick length into your mouth as physically possible at once, while using your hand to work the rest.

Seokjin chokes on a moan as his tip hits the back of your throat; you don’t even gag. “F–fuck, don’t you have a gag reflex?” he stutters on his words as you bob your head, taking the tip of his cock into your throat. You shake your head carefully, only slightly, while still sucking and bobbing away as if there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing right now. “So fucking perfect for me, little one.” He threads his fingers into your hair as he stares down at the way you work fucking magic on his cock with your mouth. “More, take more,” he demands after a moment, and you do.

Your eyes water at the stretch your throat is being forced to endure but you don’t complain. You love feeling him hot and heavy on your tongue. You’d happily suck his dick all night long if he asks.

Though, after only a few more minutes, Seokjin pulls you off his length, making you pout up at him and whine in wordless complaint.

“You like my cock in your throat that much?” he teases, and you nod shamelessly as he smirks down at you, pleased. “You’re definitely coming home with me tonight.” Your eyes light up, making you look like an excited little puppy, and he laughs lightly. “Get up, let me fuck you.” In seconds, you’re up on your feet and wincing at the pain in your knees from being pressing to the harsh tile floor. “Good girl.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. He places his hands on your waist and steps closer, pressing his erection into your stomach. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips quickly, mindlessly, and his eyes track the moment. And then he spins you around to roughly bend you over the desk. If you couldn’t already feel his erection prodding at your entrance, you’d be upset that he hadn’t kissed you, but your mind is already focused on other things, mainly his cock.

“You’re so wet, little one. I bet I’d just slide right in, huh?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your dripping folds with one hand wrapped around the base to direct his movement.

You expect him to push in, but he doesn’t. Instead, you feel the tip rest heavy on your clit, applying a teasing amount of pressure, while two of his fingers from his free hand wriggle their way into you.

“So warm,” he hums approvingly, talking to himself as he watches the way your pussy stretches around his curious fingers. He curls and scissors them to prepare you for his cock, while you gasp and writhe against his hand. His fingers feel pretty fucking good, but you want more. Need more.

“M–more, please, Sir,” you plead needily.

Seokjin complies, slipping in a third finger and immediately taking up a brutal pace of pumping and twisting the digits inside you. Moans spill from your lips, and your fingers try to grip onto the wood of the desk yet only slide across.

“You sound so pretty moaning like this, baby.” He pulls his fingers out, only to turn his hand over so that his palm faces the floor, then returns to thrusting his fingers into your pussy at a rapid pace. Now he can curl his fingers forward to press against that sweet little spot inside you and earn himself louder moans. “Ah, there it is, good girl,” he coos, pressing against the spot a few more times in rapid succession, before removing his fingers entirely.

You don’t have time to catch your breath to complain that he stopped when it felt so good. He wastes no time in pressing his cock into you with both hands gripping onto your hips tight to keep you still.

“Ah, Sir!” you exclaim when his hips snap forward impatiently to sheath his entire length deep within your dripping walls.

“Hm?” he can only offer a vague noise in response; his chest is already heaving from the effort of pushing his cock into you. He knew you could take it, you took his fingers so well, without complaint; but you’re so tight around him that he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to fit his full length at one point. And now he’s inside you, he never wants to leave; your walls hug him so well without leaving any of him untouched. He’s never felt something so perfect.

“So big, so good,” you slur, resting your forehead against the desk. You completely give up caring about the neat stacks of paper and push them out of the way so that you can press your chest against the cool wood of the desk for support. The movement has Seokjin’s cock settling a little deeper in your pussy, and he groans lowly in pleasure, fingers curling tighter into your skin. “Please, Sir, fuck me,” you beg, trying to force your hips back on him, feeling like you could get him just a little deeper if you pressed closer, but his grip is too tight.

Your words and desperate movements prompt him to act, at least. Seokjin’s head drops forward to watch his length reappear as he pulls his hips back slowly, before snapping forward and diving back inside. If your chest hadn’t already been pressed to the desk, his sudden, rapid thrusting would’ve made it that way.

Seokjin fucks like a mad man; hips battering against your ass as if fucking you is the only thing keeping him alive. He fucks like he’s on a mission to destroy you, and you love it.

Not once does it even occur to either of you that you’re in a public place with the door unlocked; in fact, it’s still open ajar. Honestly, even if someone was to walk in, neither of you would notice; you’re both entirely absorbed in the intense pleasure rapidly curling in your lower stomachs.

You’re both utterly shameless with your vocals too, moaning, and groaning, and panting heavily, spurring the other on with sounds as you both lose the ability to form words. Which only gets worse when he starts to pull your hips back to meet his thrusts, impaling you that little bit further on his cock and making you all but scream in pleasure as your legs threaten to give out.

You’re getting so tight around him that he’s finding it harder and harder to keep going; both because he’s hurting towards his climax, and because your walls are physically threatening to prevent him from moving. If you weren’t dripping with arousal already, Seokjin wouldn’t have even been able to keep going only minutes after starting.

He can’t wait to take you home and fuck you all night until you’ve soaked his mattress— and whatever other surface he decides to fuck you against. He’s already debating calling in sick tomorrow, just so that he has more time to play with you.

One particularly powerful thrust makes your knees give out with a yelp. Your body sags for only a second before Seokjin lurches forward to wrap his arms around you and pull you upright. “Shit, sorry,” he apologises while pulling out, then carefully turns you to sit you on the edge of the desk.

“It’s okay,” you reply, smiling breathlessly. Seokjin’s already thumping heart flutters at the sight of you. He’s never seen a sight so beautiful. “Don’t stop,” you encourage, opening your legs wide, and pulling his hips back to yours.

Seokjin makes short work of sliding his length back into you, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of having you wrapped around him again. “You feel so perfect,” he confesses, pressing his forehead against your shoulder to watch as his length slowly slides in and out of you. “So good.” He lifts his head to meet your gaze. “I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, eyes still locked with yours, which confuses you as you’re used to people looking at your lips when they want to kiss you. But you don’t mind at all, nor do you refuse; you want to kiss him too. You feel his lips turn up into a soft smile when you press yours to them.

As you both get lost in the kiss, Seokjin continues the slow, deep rolling of his hips, while your hands curiously explore one another. You almost complain about the fact he’s still fully dressed, wanting to feel his skin pressed against yours, but Seokjin happens to choose that moment to pick up the pace, and you simply moan into his mouth instead.

Very quickly, you both lose the ability to focus on the kiss and pull apart, your hands threaded in his hair, and his holding your thighs open as wide as possible to allow him to fuck you harder and deeper.

“I want you to cum,” he pants out when he feels himself getting dangerously close. “Touch yourself.”

You bite your lip nervously, having never touched yourself in front of someone before. But, you figure that if you were going to start, it’d be for Seokjin. Too desperate to cum to think on it for more than a second, you remove one hand from his hair to reach between your bodies and play with your clit, immediately tightening around his cock due to the extra, pleasurable stimulation.

“Shit, hurry, I’m gonna cum,” he urges, syllables slurring together, proving just how close he is to his climax. “Please, baby,” he begs, and just like that, your orgasm shoots through your body, curling your toes and tightening all of your muscles, almost giving your right calf a cramp, but you manage to straighten your leg just in time to prevent the pain; that would really ruin the mood. Seokjin grows still, watching your euphoric expression in awe for barely a second before he replaces his fingers on your clit with his thumb to work you through the pleasure.

When you whine from sensitivity and push his hand away, Seokjin pulls out and steps back while pointing to the floor with one hand, his other wrapping around his throbbing erection. “Down, mouth open,” he demands.

Despite your whole body feeling weak, and legs like jelly, you slide off the desk and lower yourself to the floor, opening your mouth wide in obedient wait. Seokjin groans low and affected at the sight of you, and pumps his hand up and down his length furiously. It only takes a few seconds before he’s spilling onto your tongue; you wrap your lips around him to suck gently, taking all he has to offer you.

When the pleasure has worked its way through his body, Seokjin pats your head softly in silent signal. “Good girl,” he pants, lips quirking in amusement at the way you haven’t yet removed his softening cock from your mouth, seeming more than happy to cock warm him for the foreseeable future. As much as he loves the sight of your lips stretched around him, he’s sensitive right now and doesn’t want to get overstimulated and risk not being up for fucking you again once he gets you home. “Up,” he says as he pulls out of your mouth, so that he can tuck himself away and pull up his boxers and trousers.

Once his zipper and button are secured back into place, Seokjin looks at you, only to find you still kneeling on the floor, watching him with innocent eyes.

“I said up,” he reminds, though you don’t make a move to obey. Instead, you open your mouth wide, showing him that you haven’t swallowed a drop of his cum. “Oh…” Seokjin chews on his bottom lip briefly, more aroused by the sight of his cum pooling in your mouth than he’d like to admit. “Swallow it.”

Obediently, you press your lips together and tip your head back so that he can see the bob of your throat when you swallow. Once you’ve swallowed every drop down, you lift your head back up to look at him, and once again part your lips wide to show your empty mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, making you beam, and he smiles fondly. “Come on, let’s get you decent enough to get back to my place. You can show me how deep you can really suck my cock.” Immediately, you light up and rush to get up to excitedly do as told.

As promised, Seokjin helps you get dressed, before he takes you back to his apartment to enthusiastically lay you out over every possible surface, and even pin you up against multiple walls.

It’s the first time Seokjin has ever received a noise complaint, but all he needs to do is look over at your mischievous grin to know that it won’t be the last.

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Jeon Jungkook was a winner, losing was not a word in his vocabulary. 

He didn’t do second place, it wasn’t in his nature. It was all or nothing with him, and he certainly wasn’t the sort of man you could disregard for whatever reason. 

You should have known better. 

You didn’t even know why you had done something so stupid, but you knew the moment you had done it that you shouldn’t have. 

You and Jungkook had been out, stopping to buy coffee at a trendy café. You had both just sat down when a tall, handsome man had approached your table. If only you hadn’t bumped into your stupid high school crush at the worst time.

You had recognised Jake Bryans immediately as soon as he stepped through the door. He had been the typical college quarterback back then, popular and goodlooking, never without a barrage of female admirers. You were no exception. You could hardly forget the many, many painful months you had secretly crushed over this guy. 

Jake had never really noticed you until much later, and by then he had been going steady with the prettiest cheerleader at your school. You had given up, he was out of bounds, and it had seemed as though life was so damn unfair, but you accepted it and never gave it another thought once college was over. 

The kicker was you had found out a few years later from the grapevine that Jake Bryans had had the biggest crush on you, and the high school romance he had been having with that cheerleader had fizzled out after the final year ended. You didn’t know whether there was any truth in it, but it hardly mattered now. It all felt like a million lifetimes away. 

Now, you had Jungkook −and you wouldn’t trade him for a million Jake Bryans. 

Jake had been super friendly instantly, broad smiles and even a kiss at your cheek. Once upon a time, you would have crossed barefoot on hot desert sand to get a kiss from him but as Jake’s huge hands had curled around your waist and he pulled you flush against his tall, muscular frame, the only thing you were aware of was the lasers shooting from the eyes of your now irritated boyfriend. 

Jungkook didn’t say a word as you peeled yourself away from the hold, nervously stealing a glance over to where he sat stony-faced, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared daggers up at the guy who had dared to put his hands on his girlfriend right in front of him. 

Before you can make introductions, Jungkook rises from his seat to face Jake. What was it about guys? Or was it just Jungkook who had the insane ability to read situations without anything needing to be explained. You could bet your bottom dollar he knew there was some sort of history −if you could even call it that− between you and Jake. Your face flames with guilt even though you haven’t so much as had one date with the guy before. 

Jake gives Jungkook a curious look and your boyfriend meets his eye, not looking away once. Jungkook isn’t as tall as Jake but he’s far more muscled, bigger and stronger looking. What he lacked in that inch or so in height wasn’t even noticeable as the two men regarded one another coolly. 

“Oh, hey man. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Jake had said, and it sounded like a total lie even to you. “And you are?”

You had been forced to intervene before things got out of hand because you knew that look. Jake was stepping on Jungkook’s territory, being patronising. 

“Jake, this is my boyfriend, Jungkook,” you had hurriedly stated, avoiding Jungkook’s fiery gaze which had come to rest on you. “Jungkook, this is my fr− uh, Jake. We used to go to the same school.”

“Boyfriend?” echoes Jake, who looked somewhat in a daze as you wondered what must have been running through his mind as he took in the guy in the oversized black t-shirt and black baggy pants, who sported an elaborate tattoo sleeve and lip ring that were at odds with his designer black suit. 

Jungkook’s large hand at the base of your spine pulled you backwards, nearer to him until your bodies touched side by side. 

An uneasy silence ensued for a beat as the men seemed to size one another up, but it was Jake who broke into an awkward grin to break the tension first. The handshake between them had been far from at ease, but despite the tense introductions, Jake had showed no signs of leaving. Rather insistently, he had asked you directly whether it would be okay to join you and your boyfriend for a coffee so you could have a catch up. 

You had been so taken aback by the proposition that you hadn’t managed to come up with a single thing to say to refuse. 

You should have. 

Jake went on and on about things from college, and you knew Jungkook couldn’t possibly have had any idea what the hell he was on about. It was inconsiderate, and you felt bad at how much he was being excluded from this conversation. Jake barely acknowledged Jungkook or directed much at him aside from some question about whether he could speak English fluently, which had caused both you and Jungkook to bristle inwardly. You had genuinely started to fear for Jake as you watched Jungkook’s face darken. 

After that, Jake had banged on about his prestigious position in a blue-chip firm courtesy of his over rich family and their contacts. You had spent the entire time struggling to stay focused while wondering what the hell you had ever seen in him −alongside being constantly on edge that the glowering hunk of man sitting beside you would finally lose his patience and snap. 

Jungkook had miraculously remained gracious and polite of course, not even mentioning once who he was or what he did. He listened ardently to what was being said, and spoke when he needed to in short, single- or double-word sentences. 

But there was no mistaking that those usually warm brown doe-eyes of his had turned into icy onyx pools that looked at you with the wound of betrayal. As though you were meant to be on his side, and you hadn’t been. He barely spoke during the coffee, drinking it almost as soon as it had been brought to your table even though it had been steaming hot. 

You on the other hand had barely touched yours, eventually somehow finding some lame excuse that you had to be somewhere within the hour so had to leave in order to drag your feet out of the door and bring the whole nightmarishly uncomfortable scenario to an end.

You had prayed Jake wouldn’t ask you for your number because that would have been the final nail in your coffin. Thankfully, the universe had been kind to you. 

Or it might have been the fact that Jungkook had whisked you away with a strong, possessive hand around your waist the moment you had picked up your purse that Jake had stood no chance. You have no doubt that were it up to Jungkook, Jake would never see you again as long as he lived. 

Jungkook had remained silent and brooding on the way back in the car, his handsome features set in a moody stare as he drove dangerously close to the speed limit all the way back to the apartment you both shared, his anger palpable. 

You didn’t even try to offer pacification, you’d been here before. When he got like this, it was better to wait for him to make the first move. You could feel every sinew, every vein, every inch of skin on his body exuding his pent-up frustration and you press your knees together nervously and bite at your lip, wishing you had done things very differently. 

As soon as Jungkook closes the door of your apartment behind you, he throws down the car keys onto the side table, kicks off his boots and stalks into the living room, flopping onto the leather couch. You stand at the doorway and slip out of your heels as you wait, your heart beating fast in anticipation and something else, something like dread. 

You don’t have to wait long. Jungkook regards you from where he sits, eyes still accusatory as they fix on you in annoyance. 

“So−,” he starts, “Tell me the story. And don’t leave anything out.” He runs a hand through his hair and bites at the corner of his lip, the tip of his tongue glistening pink as it flicks over his silver lip ring. “That bastard was familiar enough to put his hands on you−.” Jungkook stops, his face darkening with anger as though the memory is so infuriating he could break stone with his bare hands, but he composes himself again quickly. “−So I want to know everything, Y/N.”

“He’s not familiar, Kook,” you state, “I haven’t seen him since we left school.”

Jungkook chuckles. “And he thought that was enough to press himself on you. Kiss you. In front of me?” he chokes out. “And you let him −are you fucking serious right now?”

He is mad. Really mad. You don’t even know how he managed to keep calm through coffee. 

“Kook, I know you didn’t like−,” you try, stepping into the room towards him. 

“No, I didn’t like it,” Jungkook interrupts, standing up abruptly. “You got that right. And why would I? What boyfriend would want to see that? Don’t tell me you didn’t see the way his eyes were all over you, Y/N. Don’t tell me that because I swear, I will fucking explode.”

He marches towards the kitchen and heads to the fridge, which he opens and pulls out a beer. He snaps the bottle top open and guzzles down a lengthy sip. He wipes the back of his hand over his mouth as he makes his way back to the couch. 

He doesn’t even give you one look. You can tell he really isn’t happy. 

“Did you want a reaction?” he asks angrily. “What was that shit? Were you trying to get a rise out of me, huh −was that it? Letting him sit there and ask me stupid questions, looking down at me like I was something on the bottom of his fucking shoe. And you?” He pauses and this time he does look at you, raw hurt in his beautiful, brown eyes. It rips at your heart. “You didn’t say a fucking thing.” 

“Kook, I’m sorry,” you whisper, hurting inside that you hadn’t said anything. 

Why hadn’t you just told Jake no? You and Jungkook wouldn’t be arguing now, he wouldn’t be feeling so pained. What a dumb mistake. He deserved better, and you knew it. You should have told Jake all about Jungkook, showed how proud you were of him −because you were. 

You didn’t care about some blue-chip, all for show, self-important asshole −except you had let that asshole sit with you and your boyfriend, and pretty much ignore that anyone else was at that table but you and him. You should have told the asshole to shut the hell up the moment he tried to patronise your boyfriend. 

And to top it all off, Jungkook was right −you had noticed Jake’s attention was lingering just a little too long at the cut of your top. 

It was fucked up. You had fucked up. Regret didn’t even come close to covering how you felt. You almost wish you had gotten Jake’s number, just so you could call him up now and tell him exactly what you had thought. Tell him how crazy you were about your boyfriend, and how proud you were of everything he had achieved. Tell him how much you desired him, cared about him, needed him. Tell him what a sleaze he was. 

But it was too late for that. 

“I am sorry,” you tell him again, pleading sincerity in your voice. “I should have told Jake he couldn’t sit with us. It won’t happen again.” 

“Don’t say that bastard’s name to me, Y/N,” Jungkook snaps. “Not unless you truly wanna see me go crazy.”

You’ve seen him annoyed before, angry even, but this? He’s livid and you don’t know the first place to start to try and placate him. For some reason, this encounter with Jake has really got under his skin. 

“Were you guys a thing?” Jungkook asks, staring up at you. “Did you fuck?”

“No!” you exclaim, his questions catching you by surprise. “No, of course not. We never dated.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck though.”

“We didn’t. I swear.”

“You didn’t?” he enquires, dark eyes searching your face, “−Nothing at all?”

“No!” you deny in frustration. 

“So what sort of friends were you exactly?”

“We weren’t exactly friends,” you reply. “We barely spoke.”

“Then why the hell was he acting like you knew each other so well?”

“I−I don’t know, Kook,” you stumble. “We just went to school together.” You sigh. You might as well tell him, although you know it will go down like a lead balloon. You say a silent prayer and muster all your courage. “I used to… you know? Well, I had a crush on him back then.”

Jungkook looks at you incredulously, as though you’ve just sprouted ten heads. “That’s just great, isn’t it,” he states. “Well congratulations, Y/N. Looks like the feeling’s mutual.”

“Come on, that’s not fair. it was ages ago, I was in college. You know how it is,” you say, words desperately tumbling out of you as you find your feet moving across the room towards Jungkook. You sit down beside him, reaching over to place a tentative hand on his forearm, feeling his veins flex beneath your fingers. “We were just kids. He’s nothing to me, Kook.”

“You made me feel like second best out there,” he tells you, and the tone of his voice might just break your heart. 

“You’ll never be second best to me.”

“Forget it, Y/N” Jungkook tells you with an exasperated sigh as he drains the rest of his beer, plonking the empty bottle down on the table. “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”

You want him to hold you so badly, to tell you he accepts your apology. You want him to believe you won’t be so ignorant to him next time, but he’s already on his feet and heading away from you. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces moodily. 

While Jungkook showers, you take the opportunity to change clothes, opting for your white satin pyjamas. They always made you feel special even when you felt like shit, hating how insignificant you had made Jungkook feel. All you wanted was to curl up in bed and forget the whole sorry episode had happened. 

You make a mental note never to revisit that café again, and you should probably invest in a huge pair of dark shades in case anybody else who shouldn’t ran into you again. 

More than anything, you wanted to be in Jungkook’s strong arms, feeling his kisses at your neck and the hard warmth of his body against yours making you feel so secure, treasured and protected. Just like he usually did. 

But the chances of that happening tonight were at an all-time low, and you had brought the whole sorry mess onto yourself. You climb onto the couch to wait for him, clutching your glass of prosecco in one hand along with a single shred of hope as you curl up into the cushions. You take a sip and set it down, before closing your eyes and trying to empty your mind. 

Your thoughts are intruded on by the sound of footsteps in the kitchen. You open your eyes and watch Jungkook take another beer from the fridge and grab a bag of something, before he comes back into the living room.  

You are wide awake now as you take in the majestic sight that appears in your line of sight. He is topless, hair damp from his shower, revealing taut, perfectly formed abs that ripple as he moves. Broad shoulders that sit above muscular arms, coloured tattoo sleeve decorating his honey-gold skin. His black lounge pants sit low on his narrow, tapered waist invitingly, and cling onto strong thighs when he walks. 

Your breath hitches, your body reacting to him in the way it always does as a wave of his fresh masculine scent washes over you. 

His eyes scan warily over you as he makes his way over and takes his place next to you. He opens the bag of chips, but he doesn’t take any. He offers you some, but you decline, so he puts them on the table beside your wine. 

“Kook,” you say, “I know you’re mad. I don’t blame you. I am sorry. I should never have let him sit with us, we’re not really friends like that.”

“You said,” he replies coolly. 

He looks at you, and all you can think of is how sexily the damp ends of his hair curl up against his neck, and you feel compelled to touch him. But you don’t. He’s still sore. 

So you sit in silence as he flicks on the TV and sips his beer. He says nothing else and as the sounds of a soccer game fill the room, you fall into sleep. 

Your eyelids flutter open as you feel yourself being lifted up. It takes you a couple of seconds to adjust to what’s going on before you realise that you must have crashed out. Jungkook is carrying you to the bedroom.  

“Kook?” you mumble sleepily as you press your head into his powerful shoulder, loving the softness of his bare skin against your face. “What time is it? How long was I out?”

“Not long,” he replies, bringing you through the open bedroom door and setting you down on the bed. “About an hour or so.”

Jungkook turns on the bedside light and dims it to a soft dramatic glow. He looks beautiful you muse, with his long hair, lip ring glinting, and his broad shoulders and masculine physique. You can’t keep your eyes off him as he leans over you to pull down the covers and gets in beside you, laying down on the pillow beside yours. 

He kisses your brow softly and you feel hopeful. Does this mean he’s forgiven you? 

“You were sleeping so soundly,” he tells you quietly. “I didn’t think you’d wake up for hours.”

He gathers you to him, face pressing into your neck where he places those enticing gentle kisses peppered with tiny nips along your throat and you moan, your eyes closing under his affections. 

You feel his hand at your thigh, gliding along the satin of your pyjamas, and the heat of his touch sears you through the material. You come alive instantly, wired to be receptive to him like this, as though you exist to give him pleasure on demand. 

Jungkook licks at your collarbone, and you feel the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his lips across your flesh. You feel his hands tug at the waistband of your pyjama pants, sliding it down and over your hips, then you wriggle out of them, and he discards them over the side of the bed. 

His hand is over the crotch of your lacy white panties, and he presses his fingers against you. You writhe against his hand helplessly, hips pushing up at him searchingly. The heat pooling between your legs is intense and you breathe out his name in a low moan, sleep forgotten. He always knew just how to touch you right, so in tune with what your body needed. 

His body is hard against you, your attention drawn to his biceps as he holds himself up with one hand at the side of your head, the other hand stimulating you gently, applying a careful, building pressure on you. You need to feel his touch inside your panties and impatiently, you stretch down your hand with the intention of removing your underwear. 

But Jungkook snatches your wrist to stop you, bringing your arm back up and pinning it above your head. His eyes glint dangerously as he looks down at you, the ring at his parted lips catching the lighting and making him look so fucking predatorily sexy you ache with something feral. 

He shakes his head at you softly. “Uh-huh,” he chides you. “Not just yet. I had something else in mind, Y/N.” 

His tone and the way he is looking at you combine to send shudders of anticipation tinged with apprehension through you, and you wonder for a moment what he had means. But he looks so damn good you don’t think you can wait for whatever surprise he has in store. 

You shuffle uncomfortable against him, missing the touch of his hand over your crotch and wanting nothing more than for him to tear off your panties so you could feel his fingers over you. 

“Kook−,” you protest in a whiny, urgent tone, “I want you to touch me.”

A hint of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he watches your reaction. “Oh you do?” he asks, propping his head onto the palm of his hand, his fingers snaking under the hem of your pyjama top, roaming over your side and upwards, where you knew he would find you braless −just like he likes it. 

His thumb lazily traces the underside of your breast, and you hum in delight, back arching under his touch, willing him on further. But no sooner has he touched you when he is withdrawing his hand, leaving you to groan in frustration. 

The taut peaks of your nipples jut out against the satin material, and Jungkook traces a fingertip over one, and then moves to the other. It feels like torture, and you struggle to keep your breathing steady. 

Unexpectedly, he pins your arm back beside your head and kisses you, his lips crushing yours roughly, the metal of his ring pressing at your mouth. You kiss him back just as fiercely, wanting to be able to embed your hands in his beautiful silky hair, but you have one arm sandwiched between your body and his side, and the other gripped down with one strong hand. 

He tastes like whisky, and you realise he must have switched the beer for something stronger, but he isn’t drunk. He bites at your lips between kisses, and it drives you crazy. You moan into his mouth like a woman possessed, knowing how soaked you were getting down there, how needy for his touch you already were. 

With a sudden move, Jungkook frees your wrist and before you know what to do with your part freedom, he has his hand at your throat, his thumb pushing the underside of your chin up, your lips a fraction away from his, the heat of his breath tinged with whisky fanning your face. 

He rubs his thumb over your lips and eases the digit into your mouth. He watches intently as you swirl the tip of your tongue around it, taking it in deeper and suck on it with purpose,. You hear the low growl he makes in his throat, watching his pupils darken with arousal. You start to do it again, but he pulls out his thumb.

“Do you know what it’s like, Y/N−?” Jungkook begins, his eyes roving over your face, dropping to your mouth which is swollen from his needy kisses, and hungry and empty for him, “−What it’s like to have to wait for something you really want?”

You do. You really do. You want him right now. A touch, a kiss −something, anything would do. You just want him. But he was holding back, he wasn’t mid-ravaging you yet like he normally would have been. 

You nod frantically, and he smiles at you with disbelief. “Oh you do, do you?” he asks. “Because I don’t think you have the first clue what that feels like.”

“What are you talking about?” Suddenly, a bad feeling begins to unfold in your gut. The penny drops, and you realise you have some inkling what this might be about. 

Jungkook is serious now, his gaze never leaving yours. “I could have coped with the stupid coffee, Y/N. I could even have tolerated that asshole being someone you used to want. I’m a big boy, we all have pasts,” he says. “But the entire time, Y/N −the entire time, you didn’t once say one thing about me to that bastard. Not even one.”

You are crushed by the look in his eyes, and you feel yourself fall into a shamed silence as he continues. “I could have been just anyone sitting there next to you. You knew I wasn’t happy. If somebody saw us, it looked more like you were with him and not me. I’m sure that if I had tried to hold your hand right then, you wouldn’t have let me.”

But that snaps you into action. “No, Kook −that’s not true!” you protest. “I could barely get a word in with him, I knew you weren’t happy but once I’d agreed he could join us, I couldn’t −I didn’t know how to get out of it.” 

You are panting with emotion, struggling to think of what you could say to convince him that you had never meant to do anything to make him feel like he didn’t matter to you. 

“Fuck!” you utter in frustration. “God, I am sorry, Kook. I never meant−.”

Jungkook kisses you again, harder than before, and his body presses against you, his weight heavy, his mouth demanding, as though he were trying to kiss away any words you might have had left to try and excuse yourself for hurting him. 

When he withdraws his mouth from you, you can see how frustrated he is. “I just wanted to hear one time −just once, something about me coming out of your mouth,” he tells you, “So I would know that you were thinking about me, even while that asshole was leering over you and talking rubbish.”

As he speaks, you see just what earlier had meant to him. “I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper. “What can I do to make you forgive me? Tell me, I’ll do anything.”

You meant it. You would have done anything this man told you if it meant you could erase the hurt in him. 

“Really?” he asks, eyebrow raised, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

He smirks. “I was hoping you would say something like that.” 

“But you have to promise, Kook, if I do what you ask, you’ll forgive me, and you won’t be mad at me anymore?” you say. “I am sorry, truly. It won’t happen again. Okay?” 

He mulls it over for a few seconds, regarding you with shiny, dark eyes that pull at your heart fiercely. “Agreed,” he replies with a shake of his head. “I’m not mad at you by the way. Not anymore. I was just disappointed.”

“So what is it you want me to do?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, his request is confident and sure. “I want to watch you touch yourself for me.”

You exclaim in surprise. This was new. You hadn’t had to touch yourself in a while because Jungkook was so damn good at taking care of all your needs in that department. Even when he wasn’t around, you preferred to wait until you were with him because he was just that good. It wasn’t the same by yourself. Nothing beat the touch of his hand, the heat of his kisses, the hardness, muscular strength of his body, and the fill of his cock. 

“Touch myself?” you echo, as though he had said something to you in a foreign language. 

“Yes, Y/N,” he confirms. “Masturbate, get off −whatever it’s called these days when you make yourself cum.” 

“But why?”

“Because I’d like to watch you.” He stares at you expectantly. “So −will you do it for me?”

You swallow, feeling a little nervous under his gaze, and clear your throat. “Uh−okay. I’ll do it.” 

He grins and kisses your brow. “Thank you.”

He watches as you place one hand under your pillow, one hand moving slowly down your thighs. Your let yourself enjoy this vision that he is, taking in his handsome face, that kissable jawline and dark, doe eyes that drank you in, and those inviting lips that could bring you to the edge in seconds. 

You let out a sigh as you imagine how he feels with his tongue inside you, your hand passing over your panties and making your bud come alive. 

You feel yourself get more aroused, knowing this would be turning Jungkook on. You allow your eyes to travel over his broad shoulders and the smooth, bulging muscle of his biceps as he lays beside you, head propped up and fully engaged. 

“Open your shirt,” Jungkook commands, his voice husky and quiet. 

It arouses you as you do what he wants, deftly unbuttoning the pyjama top. As you undo the last button, it slides open to reveal your breasts, nipples jutting out in stiff peaks, and you hear Jungkook hiss. 

You give him a small smile and reach into your panties, fully expecting your own wetness. You’re aroused now, wanting him to want you as much as you want him. You slide your finger between your folds with ease, breathing heavily upon the contact as you feel your own juices. 

Jungkook looks at you as though he has forgotten how to blink and it fills you with confidence. You slide your panties to the side and start to stroke yourself, leaning back and raising your knees as you fully spread your legs. 

You’re wet enough to enter, and your fingers expertly pump into yourself in front of him. You close your eyes briefly, remembering how Jungkook’s fingers feel when he’s in you, how they curve against your inner walls and speed you towards that magical release. Your own fingers pale in comparison, and you groan in frustration, eyes snapping open to stare imploringly at him. 

You aren’t enough anymore. It’s him you need to make you feel good. His cock fucking you, his fingers teasing you, taking care of you as he talked dirty in your ear. There was a reason you never did this without him anymore. 

“Kook, please−,” you moan, but you don’t even know what you’re asking him for. 

You want to tell him your hands are nothing compared to what you knew he could give you, but he doesn’t move from where he is. “Don’t stop, Y/N,” he instructs you quietly, “I want to see it all.”

You understood now. It was his turn to get back at you. Heavy regret filled you once more at the prospect of having to really close this out alone without him, but you had agreed so you couldn’t stop now. Perhaps if you did it well enough, he might be persuaded to go easy and relent, but this was Jungkook −and you knew how stubborn he could get. 

As you pump faster, the wet noises of your arousal fill the room, yet still all you can think of is how much better this would feel if it was Jungkook touching you. “Kook, please,” you whine needily, “Please can you just forgive me now. I need you. I really need you.”

“What for?” he asks, head tilting, feigning innocence. “Keep going.”

“You know what for!” you rasp impatiently as you continue to stimulate yourself for him, “I don’t want to do this without you! Please, baby −I need you!”

There isn’t a shred of pride left in you now. Your fingers slide continuously against yourself, panties soaking, hips pushing up, searching for more as you moan in desperate frustration. “Kook, please!” you cry out. 

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, and all you can think of is how his hard cock would feel inside you now. You’d beg him if you had to, fuck it. 

Hope surges in you as he actually sits up, moving closer to you, head dipping towards your ear as he whispers. “Don’t stop.”

You actually howl out loud. This was pathetic and maddening. You’re getting wetter still, but you refuse to allow yourself to finish, not when Jungkook was right fucking here. Apart from almost causing you to burst into tears of frustration, the sound of him whispering in your ear had only managed to make you want him more. 

“Kook,” you whimper softly, your body aching, “−I need you.” 

He stares down at you, and you can see he’s considering something. “You really need me that much?”

“Yes!” you say hotly, wondering how much more of this you would be able to withstand before he would just fuck you. “More than I can tell you.”

Jungkook smiles victoriously and sidles up to you, one large hand palming your breast. You almost cum at the touch on your body, sighing his name like a fervent prayer. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you gently, “I just wanted−.”

You grab his head and kiss him hard, not wanting to wait another second. “I know.”

His eyes are dark and winning as he looks into yours, sliding his hand down your bare skin to cover yours.

Slowly Jungkook moves your hand away, and you almost pass out with relief and desire as your fingers are replaced by his at your entrance, your need going through the roof as he finally begins to touch you. 

“Alright, Y/N,” he concedes with a smirk, “−You’ve convinced me.”

°•*⁀➷ Thank you for reading! ❤︎

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. 

Focus, Y/N, focus. 

“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. 

Ground. Swallow. Now. 

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 gochujang, 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 complimentary 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. 

“What?”

“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 wish you had.”

“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.”

You giggle. “Subtle.”

“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.”

“I see.”

“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?” 

“Mm-hm.”

“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. 

He hisses, “−Fuck!” 

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. 

“I want to,” you reply. 

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. 

“Yeah, it was.”

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.”

“Same.”

“What about you?” he asks uneasily, “−Have you ever done this before?”

“Not like this.”

“Good,” he says, pulling the sheets up around you both and adjusting himself to face you. “You think we should shower?”

“Probably,” you laugh. 

“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! ❤︎

You make it just in time, sliding in quickly through the small gap just as the familiar chime of the elevator sounds. You smile to yourself as you key in your floor number and choose a spot by the door to settle into. 

It takes you a second to realise you aren’t alone. He’s standing in the opposite corner, leaning against the shiny wall, one hand in the pocket of his dark denim jeans, the other loosely at his side.

Kim Seokjin is already looking at you, his expression amused. He doesn’t even try and hide it. The walls around you seem to close in, as though shifting invisibly, even though you know nothing has changed at all. 

You are the first to look away, fingers hovering over the panel a second too long before you press your floor and the doors close, the elevator hums. 

Yet still, he doesn’t drop his surveillance of you. 

You tell yourself to ignore it −you’ve been in elevators with strangers before. This isn’t new, but something about this is different. You can feel his attention like heat against your skin, and when you glance up for just for a second, you find him watching you the same way as if he were waiting for you to notice him. 

You turn your gaze to the numbers above the door as the elevator begins its ascent, pretending that’s what you were doing all along. It’s ridiculous how aware you suddenly are of everything; your posture, your breathing, and the faint reflection of him beside you in the mirrored wall.

What was he doing here anyway, you wonder. It’s at least two hours past the end of the working day, on a Friday. You had deliberately stayed back to finish a new project you had intended to pitch to the new manager who would start first thing on Monday morning. 

Kim Seokjin was the latest addition to the management team, at least that’s as far as you had heard. Since he first showed up a couple weeks ago, he had been the talk of the office. It wasn’t entirely unexpected because he looked like an actual model and none of the girls at work had seen anything quite like that casually walking around. 

Tall, dark-haired and incredibly handsome, he was quite the vision to behold. Especially when he smiled at you with those beautiful, plump lips that always seemed ready to give the softest, sweetest kisses. 

Your run ins with this latest addition had been sparse at best. Passing one another in the corridor every so often, vague acknowledgement of one another in the coffee room, or avoiding his gaze on the odd occasion he’d been down to your floor. You’d even been in the elevator with him before, only once, but never alone like this. 

“Y/N, isn’t it?”

Seokjin’s voice unexpectedly cuts through the stillness, low and smooth, and far too close in a space like this. He had never actually spoken to you before, not directly like this, so the fact he knew your name had come as a bit of a surprise. A somewhat flattering one. 

You swallow, looking up slowly to meet his gaze. “Yes.”

His mouth curves in the hint of a smile, and something flutters deep in your core. There’s a pause, and all around you, there is a tension that has slowly started to rise. 

“Pretty name,” he says.

You flush, fidgeting with your fingers at your sides. “Thank you,” you mumble. 

“Working late?”

“Uh−yeah, I have something I wanted to finish.”

He moves to fold his arms over his chest as he regards you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” he murmurs softly. “I admire the dedication, especially right before the weekend.”

“You’re working too?” you venture. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Something like that,” he replies. “−But I’m not doing a very good job. I keep getting distracted.”

You shouldn’t smile, but you can’t help it. Your body tingles just being in the vicinity of this man in a way that you’ve never felt before. The way he draws your attention to him isn’t something you are accustomed to. You’ve always gotten bored easily, lost interest when conversations were mundane and lacked spark. 

Yet somehow, stuck here with Kim Seokjin, the talk between you minimal and nothing particularly exciting at all, you find yourself hanging onto his every word. Today is the first time you’ve seen him in regular attire as opposed to smart suits. It gives him a more approachable look, less untouchable.

“What’s distracting you?” you ask. “Perhaps you can remove it.”

He lets out a soft breath, almost a laugh, and shifts his weight slightly. It’s barely a movement, but in a space this small, it feels like he’s getting nearer. “I don’t think I want to,” he tells you, his voice tinged with something that makes tingles run up and down your spine, his attention lingering on your face. “It’s quite the view.”

There’s no mistaking his meaning from the look in his eyes, and you gasp lightly. 

“Very subtle,” you comment quietly, although you weren’t sure whether you had meant to say it out loud. 

“I don’t think subtle would’ve gotten your attention,” Seokjin states, before you’ve had a chance to backtrack. 

He’s composed, almost annoyingly so, as if nothing about this encounter is affecting him at all. Like he isn’t standing in this confined space with a total stranger, turning the atmosphere into something dangerously charged.

“You seem very confident,” you say.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

You hesitate for a beat, unsure of how to answer him, and positive that whatever comes out of your mouth would be countered easily enough by him. 

“What about you?” he asks. “You’re not confident?” 

The flip back of attention onto you temporarily throws you into confusion. “Me?”

He chuckles. “Well, do you see anyone else in this elevator, Y/N?”

You shoot him a look, your back up a little at his sarcasm. “I get the feeling−,” you say slowly, “That you’re used to people wanting you, reacting to you a certain way.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“It could be,” you say quietly, “−If you expect it.” 

The words come out steadier than you feel, but your response causes interest to flicker in his expression. “And how are you reacting?”

You hold his gaze, unable to truthfully deny he wasn’t having any impact on you. Your silence does it, you see the moment it lands. His eyes darken, as if you’ve tipped the balance of something that was already teetering on the edge.

Then suddenly, the elevator jolts −not too hard but just enough, before it comes to a stop, saving you from giving him a response. The whirr of the motors die, and the numbers on the display freeze statically between floors. For a moment, nobody moves. 

You glance up at the panel, holding your breath, willing it to move. But nothing happens, there’s no sound from anywhere, just a continued, enclosed silence that came from being suspended somewhere you’re not supposed to be. 

“Shit,” you mutter, panicking now. 

“Just relax,” Seokjin says, pulling out his phone. 

“There’s barely anyone here!” you exclaim. “Nobody’s gonna answer the phone. Did you forget what time it is and where we are?” 

He waves a hand at you. “I told you to relax,” he says. “I’ll call the emergency maintenance team.”

Yes, because who walks around with the number of building maintenance on a Friday evening just in case the damn elevator breaks down. But within seconds, he’s reached someone and is already explaining the situation. You stare in disbelief, wondering how he isn’t even breaking a sweat. 

“No, don’t−,” you call, but you’re too late. He’s already hung up. “Why would you hang up? Whoever that was is our only way out of here. Now what are we supposed to do?”

“It’s getting sorted,” he tells you calmly. “We aren’t in any danger, just stuck for a little while. It’s nothing major, so please just try and relax.”

Surprisingly, he does manage to make you feel a bit calmer, but you’re still rattled. “This is hardly ideal, is it?” you complain. 

“No,” he agrees. 

Something in his voice has changed. It’s softer −closer. You look over, realising that he’s not in the corner anymore. 

“I should press the emergency button,” you say distractedly. 

“No need.”

“Guess we’re stuck,” you murmur, trying not to notice how his scent wraps itself around you, or the way he’s moving closer. 

“Seems like it,” he says.

The world outside the elevator starts to fade, like it doesn’t exist anymore. 

“Feels like fate, doesn’t it?” he says. “I mean, what are the chances of you and I both being here late, and getting stuck in the same elevator?”

You shrug, thinking that perhaps he’s trying to occupy your mind just so you don’t panic again. But there is something in his words that rings true −what were the chances indeed. 

“Do you know my name?” he asks. 

“Kim Seokjin,” you answer, without hesitation. The whole building knew it by now. 

He smiles at you, warm and rich, and again your stomach does somersaults that aren’t caused by your situation. “Call me Jin,” he says.

The way he says it, quiet, almost like it’s just for you, makes your breath catch slightly, and banishes all thoughts of potentially plummeting to your death in this steel trap from your mind momentarily. 

You nod. “It’s good to finally meet you properly, Jin.”

His eyes don’t leave yours. “Yeah,” he says softly, his voice like a loaded weapon. “You too, Y/N.”

“This has never happened to me before,” you blurt out. 

“Is that so?” he replies, smirking in clear amusement. “Me neither.”

“It isn’t funny,” you tell him sternly. “We could die in here.”

“Then we’d better make the most of it, hadn’t we?”

His tone isn’t humorous, it’s more suggestive. As if he isn’t joking, but more testing the waters. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” you say in hushed tones. 

“And what’s that?”

You take a slow breath. “This.”

Your hand gestures vaguely between you at nothing in particular, meant to refer to the closeness, the tension, whatever it was that has neither of you respecting the space between you. 

For a moment, he just watches you.

“Maybe,” he says, stepping just a fraction closer, “I’m more interested in what you’re doing.”

Your heart is running ten to the dozen. You can feel his presence more than ever, as if it’s almost touching you. The smallest movement forward would result in being too close to him. You feel heady with something.  

“I’m not doing anything,” you insist. 

“No?” 

Your breath catches as he leans in, close enough to you that he’s impossible to ignore. He reaches up, placing a hand against the wall by the side of your head. The air between you is electric. You should probably move, but you don’t want to. His lips hover just above yours, and your eyes fall to them. They’re tempting and luscious. 

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows, aware of those dark, intoxicating eyes that run over your face. “You’re trying to ignore what you can feel,” he says. “What we both can feel.”

You don’t respond immediately, although your insides have already started to melt. You don’t want to be obvious, but your body betrays you anyway. Your shoulders straighten, heartbeat climbing, almost willing him to get closer yet. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says softly, staring right into your eyes. You feel mesmerised, stuck to the spot. “That I’ve made a mistake. I’ll go back to where I was standing and you’ll never hear another word about it from me.”

You can feel him breathing, each faint fanning of heat landing somewhere beneath your skin, like your body is keeping count. Your eyes find the camera that is fixed at the left corner behind you through the mirror, realising that where you both stood was close to a blind spot. 

“Did you do this because you needed an excuse to talk to me?” you ask.

Your question is far bolder than you usually would venture to be, but something about him pulls that out of you, as if he expects it. He smirks, and the way he looks at you is so devastating it could hardly be fair. How can you fight that?

“The elevator?” he asks, eyes widening innocently. 

For a second, he has you wondering whether he had in fact orchestrated this entire sequence of events −but surely not. There had to have been too many invariabilities to factor. 

“You wouldn’t−?” you start. 

“Of course not,” he tells you with a smile. “Did it cross your mind that maybe this was in our destiny?”

If it was your destiny to die drowning in the depth of this man’s eyes, there were worse fates to accept, but you shake your head no. 

He hums, but he shows no sign of moving away, still trapping you against the wall. You bite at your lip, it’s not as though you’ve moved either. 

“You’re nervous,” he states. “Is it because of me or the elevator?”

Something about the way he asks you compels you to honesty, and you straighten up, your face immediately below his. “You.”

Your answer does something to him. You watch as his gaze darkens a fraction, as if you’ve just shifted the rules of a game he was already enjoying. 

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs. 

You shouldn’t be like this. You barely know him. You’ve seen him, heard office gossip stories, and watched from a distance like everyone else, but this is different. This is immediate and personal, too intense for something that started less than a few minutes ago.

And yet, you don’t back away from him −you don’t even want to. The way he waits and measures your reaction makes your skin tingle. You wonder if he does this often, look at someone as if he’s a secret just for them. Was this is just another moment for him?

You decide that for now, you don’t care.

“We might be in here a while,” he tells you, eyes dropping to your mouth. “The time would pass better if we got to know one another better.”

You already know what’s going to happen before it does. Your body seems to react to him before your mind does, and you feel the tremble of excitement that courses through you. Strong hands suddenly cup your face, tilting it upwards further, stroking back your hair as if you were a doll. 

Your mouth parts in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut as his lips cover yours in a kiss. Your hands instinctively come up to curl on his chest, inside his open jacket, fingers clasping the material of whatever it was he was wearing beneath it. 

The kiss deepens, you’re almost tiptoeing as the intensity of it steals away your breath. Seokjin’s lips are every bit as soft as they looked, maybe even more so. It’s cruel the way he makes you want him so wantonly like this. 

He pulls back, breath slightly ragged now, his face a little less composed than it was before. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he says gruffly. “You’re killing me, Y/N.”

You were killing him? He’d definitely got that wrong, it was more the other way round for sure. 

Seokjin takes one of your hands in his and slowly brings it downwards, over his stomach, still going lower, his eyes holding yours. Your fingers pass the metal of his belt as your hand is brought lower, until he places it directly below. 

“This,” he says with a muffled groan at the back of his throat. “This is what you’re doing to me.”

“Fuck!” you gasp, as you feel the significant bulge of his erection through the material of his jeans. 

Kim Seokjin is huge. You can tell already. A new level of lust grips you, filling you with an overwhelming feeling of wanting to be shameless for him. 

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” you say with a teasing smile. 

Your hand presses firmer over his arousal, palming it slowly as you manoeuvre him against the wall by his wonderfully broad shoulders. His eyes widen. Now it’s you who has caught him by surprise, and you love it.

You steal a kiss from his lips, heat washing over you as he kisses you back so intensely it consumes you so fully you forget where you both are. You stare up at him through hooded eyes, your lips stinging sweetly from his mouth. 

Boosted by his reaction, you place another kiss at his lips, quickly moving down over the vein at his neck, down his throat, his Adam’s apple, and press into the warm hollow at the base. 

“If you carry on doing that,” Seokjin says between sighs, “I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”

Your kisses continue to trail downwards, into his jacket and finding the opening of his shirt where you press your lips against his heated skin. He groans as you keep going, down over the length of his torso, kissing over his shirt, tracing a path that leads down over his stomach until you reach the waist of his jeans. 

You look up with a naughty grin. “Perfect.”

He stares down at you with eyes like the night as you kneel and proceed to start unbuckling his belt, feeling how he grows tense and taut with expectation. In moments, you have the zipper undone, sliding it down carefully over his hardness before you open his jeans out, sliding them down over his hips. You lift his shirt, pulling down the fabric of his underwear until his hard cock springs free against his flat, toned stomach. 

The sheer size is distracting, and you tilt your head back so you can take it in, running your tongue over your lips as you do. You hear Seokjin curse under his breath, the sound arousing you further, his hips stuttering involuntarily towards you. 

Seokjin has the kind of cock that would make anyone salivate. It’s certainly the prettiest cock you had ever seen, even in your wildest fantasies. Long and thick, dusky and veined, completed by a darker pink head that glistened with precum invitingly. 

You want him in your mouth so badly you can hardly wait to taste him. 

You curl your hand around the base, slowly starting to pump his cock up and down, your thumb brushing over the head to spread his precum. He starts to make the most incredible sounds that turn your core to liquid heat, your walls already clenching for him, your blood rushing around your body. 

You look up at him from where you kneel, taking in the rapture on his face, swollen parted lips and glazed pupils blown wide, reduced to this in your hands alone. You pick up the pace, squeezing just a little harder, causing him to groan louder, his hips jerking against you once more. 

You bring your mouth closer, moistening your lips. You place a tiny kiss on the tip of his cock, feeling his hands embed into your hair. “You want this?” you ask, looking up at him, sticking out your tongue to lick a stripe right along the thick veined underside.

“God, yes Y/N,” Seokjin groans, his grip in your hair tightening. You kiss it again, this time adding a little suck at the base, and his moans grow more needy. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

You have no intention of stopping −you’ve barely gotten started. 

You give him a few more licks, fisting a few more strokes with your hand, the tip of your tongue flicking across the slit of his cock to get your first salty taste of his precum. Unable to hold back any longer, you take his pulsing head into your mouth, slipping your tongue over the head. It’s the noisiest he’s been so far. 

“Fuck!” he rasps, looking down at you, the visual of you on your knees with a mouthful of his cock accelerating his arousal further. “Oh fuck! That feels so− oh fuck!”

You would smile but you’re too occupied with the sheer volume of cock that fills your mouth. You hear yourself make a stifled but content sound. You push your mouth forward, he thrusts gently against you to meet you halfway. 

“Yes,” Seokjin moans desperately. “Like that, don’t stop.”

You take him in more, as far as you are able to go. He’s so big that you have to use your hands at the base, revelling in the way he felt in your mouth, that stretch that opened out your throat, leaving you on the verge of choking, your eyes watering as you gag around his impressive length that seems to be expanding, tasting the saltiness of his precum at the base of your mouth. 

You start to suck at him in a rhythm, allowing his bucking hips to fuck slowly against you. When he starts to pick up momentum, you place a hand at the top of his thigh to halt him from getting carried away. 

You look up as you continue, keeping your eye contact firm and unwavering, watching his face flush, swollen, plump lips fall open to murmur your name, those beautiful brown eyes glassy and wild as he nears the end. 

You feel him tensing, his moans ragged, fingers digging at your scalp as his breathing comes in shallow, needy pants −he’s close. You gear yourself up for the release, sucking him deeper and longer, tongue swirling around, flickering faster at the head. 

“I’m gonna cum−“ he breathes. “Y/N, I’m gonna− oh fuck!”

His cock throbs in your mouth, pulsing against your tongue before your mouth is filled with hot spurts of thick, salty cum that run down your throat, finding every corner. You rush to swallow load after load, your nose pressed against his abdomen as he clasps your head to him, cock pushed right down your throat, holding you in place as your mouth milks every drop from his cock. 

All you can do is keep swallowing, keep sucking at him, loving the way he sounds as he comes, your mind conjuring up chocolate and honey as you take him down. 

After what seems like an eternity, he’s finally done and you stand up, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand as he tidies himself up. It’s a shame to watch that cock disappear, and you find yourself missing it already. You can still taste him.  

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he says with a sheepish smile as he buckles up his belt. 

“Neither was I,” you say shyly. 

“But you forgot something,” he tells you. 

“What’s that?” 

“The camera,” he replies. 

Your face blanches. “Oh my God!” you start, but Seokjin quickly brings you to him in an embrace. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs. “I’m joking, okay. It was just a joke.” 

You hit him playfully. “You asshole,” you say. “−For a moment I thought my life was over and I would never live that down. What kind of stupid joke is that anyway?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, kissing the top of your head. “That camera hasn’t worked for weeks. I keep asking them to fix it, and for once I’m glad nobody listened.”

“No shit.”

The intercom crackles, startling both of you and disturbing the moment. Then a man’s voice calls through, “This is maintenance −hope everyone is doing okay in there. You’ll be moving in a few minutes, hang in there. We’ve had to restart the system. Nothing to worry about.”

You and Seokjin look at each other and laugh. You can’t believe you had forgotten all about your elevator predicament all through pleasuring him. 

“What now?” he asks. 

“Now I have work to finish,” you tell him. “As exciting as this was, I have to finish my project.”

“Really?”

“Yep, I have to impress the new manager on Monday.”

Seokjin smiles. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” he says mischievously. “You’ve impressed him already…”

thanks for reading • 𓂃𝜗𝜚

Kim Seokjin had stood in front of crowds of people like this one hundreds of times before. 

Anticipated evenings that glittered with camera flashes that almost became one blinding white light, air thick with perfume and laughter, and the hollow echo of false exchanges and compliments that blended into a faceless mass. He knew how to play his role; polished smile, flawless posture, polite words, eyes bright and focused no matter what went on in his mind −or his heart. 

Sometimes it felt as though these award shows stretched on for an infinity, especially when his own emotions betrayed him. It had been almost a full year now since he had seen her −he had been counting −and from a distance, he allowed himself to get lost in the moment. 

Because there she was −looking every inch like a star that had descended from the heavens, black satin gown that flowed like the night itself, hair tossed back as she laughed, the sound pulling his insides like a bittersweet ache that had never disappeared. 

Y/N. 

Every head turned in her direction, and every flash followed suit. For a moment he wondered why she was here, and then the penny dropped. At her side, tethered as though he belonged there, was another man who needed no introduction.

Lee Ji-ho, darling of the nation’s media −an established actor, charismatic, adored, rich, successful −everything any woman could ask for. He stood tall beside Y/N −proudly, trademark smile flashing across his handsome face more genuinely than he had seen on anyone else so far as he bent his head down to whisper something to her. 

She laughed again as though whatever he had said to her had delighted her more than anything else in the world could, and the notion tore ribbons through his heart like shards of jagged glass. 

Seokjin swallowed, looking away quickly, forcing his face to stay blank as he curved his lips into that carefully practiced smile. Inside, a volcano of jealousy raged through him, threatening to engulf him. He could feel it scorching his ribs, his throat, his entire composure, and although he knew he no longer had any right to it, he couldn’t stop himself drowning as it consumed him like a disease. 

Surely it was all for show he told himself −appearances were part of the job, right? Y/N had only just started out a career as an actress and pairing her with such a well-known and loved actor tonight could be a strategic move if they were both with the same company. The media were all over it, still flocking in droves to take their photo together, gushing about how good they looked. 

He might even have really began to believe it wasn’t real, except every time he saw those brief touches between them, every time Ji-ho touched her arm, each time he leaned in close, every time she looked up at him with large, fascinated eyes, he felt the truth that clawed brutally through his chest. 

She should have been with him. 

Seokjin didn’t see Y/N much for the duration of the ceremony, just once when she had stood up to applaud Ji-ho for getting award for Best Actor. He was grateful they had been sat far apart because there was no way he thought he would have been able to endure prolonged periods of watching them together. 

But as the event was winding down and the after party was beginning, she was thrown directly into his path as he made his way through one of the long corridors towards the exit. 

She stood alone, scrolling absently through her phone, one hand clutching a champagne flute. She lifted her head and saw him instantly, her face lighting up with the kind of smile that had always made his knees weaken. 

“Seokjin,” she said warmly. “Congratulations on your award, I loved your song too. You did well.”

The heat in his chest flared hotter. How could she give him that smile so easily after she had spent hours smiling at him? 

Didn’t she know that song he had written was inspired only by her? How desperately he had wanted to shout to everyone listening when he had walked up on that stage to collect the damn award that he owed it all to her. But she hadn’t even been watching him, she hadn’t even been sitting at her table when he had looked for her. 

The pain almost choked him. “You noticed then?” he retorted. “Aren’t all your congratulations taken?”

“I saw you get your award, Seokjin,” she stated, her face unreadable. 

“But you weren’t at−,” he began. “Never mind.” 

“You look well,” she stated. “How have you been?”

He looked at her, unable to give her a false response. “You look… beautiful,” Seokjin said instead, the words rough, slipping out with ease past the flimsy guard he could barely keep up in her presence. “Everyone couldn’t keep their eyes off you.”

He noticed the way her cheeks tinged with a faint dusting of pink as she smiled shyly at him. “Thank you,” she said simply, “−That means a lot coming from you.”

His emotions swirled in a vortex that had become too much to bear, something had to give. He couldn’t shake the image of Ji-ho with her, couldn’t stand that she was so close, but she may as well have been standing on another planet −which was so unfair because he wanted her so damn much. 

He clenched his jaw, tone turning sharp with annoyance. “You seem happy −with him.”

Her brows furrowed. “With who?” 

“Lee Ji-ho,” he bit out, as though the name was a curse on his tongue. “I saw you arrive together. Everyone saw it.” He drew a shaky breath, “You looked like− like you were his, Y/N. Like you wanted to be with him.”

There was an uncomfortable, strained silence for a beat before she let out a quiet, resigned sigh. “It’s just publicity, Seokjin,” she explained patiently, “−It’s for the cameras, you know that. Our company arranged it.”

Seokjin heard her words, wanted to be convinced because it was what he had tried to tell himself, only the jealousy had taken hold and made him reckless. He stepped in closer, voice low and trembling. “Do you have any idea what that was doing to me? Having to stand back and watch him walk in with you on his arm, like he has every right to you.” 

Her eyes widened. “Seokjin−.”

“He was so close to you that he might as well have been kissing you right there in front of them all, right in front of me. You were happy, I saw it. Laughing at his stupid jokes, all heart-eyes as though he were some God you worshipped, Y/N!” Seokjin’s fists clenched, teeth gritted. “Why didn’t you just let him take you in front of me?”

“Stop,” she whispered, “−Please.” 

He wanted to take the words back, he didn’t want her to see him like this. Hell, he didn’t want to be this way, but it hurt too bad. 

“I felt like I couldn’t breathe, Y/N,” he continued, the feelings spilling out in raw confession. “And you laughed while the world applauded as I was being ripped apart.”

Her lips parted, voice barely audible as she looked into his eyes. “Why?” she asked. “Why do you feel that way, when we are nothing to one another now?”

He knew he should lie, retreat into some kind of safety, backtrack or simply run, but he had been stripped bare and had nowhere to go now. Her question was a dagger, and the injury had already been dealt. 

“Because it should have been me,” he replied hoarsely, anguish in his tone. “It’s always been me. Every time I think of you, now when I’m seeing you all I want to do is reach out and hold you. I want to be the only man at your side, but I’m not and I can’t because− because stupid rules and I can’t just−.”

He fades out, exhausted. Knowing exactly where this conversation led. Her gaze softened, eyes holding something fragile reserved just for him as she came close enough for him to hear the soft rise and fall of her breath. 

“You think I didn’t notice?” she asked, her voice holding a delicate tremor. “I saw the way you watched me. I know how your smile changes when it’s just us. I was waiting, Seokjin. I waited all this time for you.”

His heart stopped. “What?” he said, voice breaking. “You waited for me?”

Y/N nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Do you really think I wanted to walk in there on anyone’s arm other than yours?” she whispered. “Do you think I wanted anyone but you, Seokjin?”

She sniffled, throwing back the remains of her drink. “I kept hoping you would say something. Anything. That you would fight for me,” she said, her tone accusing. “But you never did of course. You were nowhere.”

Seokjin’s chest caved in, the truth of her words crashing over him like thunder. She was right. She had waited, she had wanted him, and she had made her choice back then. But he had allowed the fear of scandal, of headlines and of the unforgiving world outside steal his chance at happiness with her. 

“Y/N−,” he began. He reached for her hand but stopped, his fingers trembling inches away from hers as he faltered. “I want to, my God I want to,” he said, “But if I touch you, if I take even one step too far, I could ruin everything.”

She stepped back, already closing down as she turned away. Desperately he moved forward, wanting to explain himself away, wishing so much could be different. “My career, maybe even yours now, my bandmates, our people would all pay the price,” he went on. “You don’t deserve to carry that.”

Y/N whipped round, tears glimmering in her eyes, a choked sob escaping her that made his heart break. “So you’ll just let me go again?” she cried. “Let me stand beside someone else while you burn with jealousy from the shadows?” 

Seokjin shut his eyes, as though that might prevent her words from penetrating him so deeply he felt he might die from the pain. “If it keeps you safe, Y/N, then yes,” he replied raggedly. “If it means you get to have your moment to shine, and even if it kills me, then yes, I will let you go.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t even be here talking to me like this,” she retorted, “−You’d better keep your voice down.”

Seokjin looked around quickly. Surprisingly, they hadn’t seemed to garner any unnecessary attention, and he could only put it down to the fact that Y/N had come with Ji-ho. Guess he was no threat to one of the nation’s favourite actors. The thought annoyed him. “We’re only talking, Y/N −that’s not a crime, is it?” 

She huffed. “Isn’t it?” she said. “I didn’t realise you were even allowed to do that.”

“Y/N, come on,” he cajoled. “You know what will happen if we− if anyone knew. You deserve better, I can’t ruin that for you.” 

Her breath hitched. “Coward,” she hissed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’ve already lost me, Seokjin.” She raised her chin defiantly, eyes blazing with hurt and anger as she retreated further, dress sweeping against the floor dramatically. “I won’t wait anymore for someone who chooses silence over me. We have nothing more to talk about.”

He had no protest, the finality of her decision cutting into him worse than any wound. He wanted desperately to stop her, to undo the damage, but he didn’t have the shamelessness. He had no right to. Their situations were far too dangerously precarious and only too real. 

Instead, he watched as she turned away, the darkness of her dress and flow of her hair fading into the corridor, leaving him with the bitter taste of regret in his mouth. An unbearable envy continued to burn in his veins, savage and unrelenting. 

Worse than the jealousy was the undeniable truth that she had wanted him, waited for him even −but he had lost her anyway. 

He didn’t deserve her. 

Seokjin could barely summon a smile as the afterparty flowed in a blur of luxury and fake laughter. Music pulsed from hidden speakers in low tones meant for creating ambience as people mingled. 

It was meant to be a vibe, but it all felt like torture, and he couldn’t help but wish he had at least one of his band members for company. The hosts had been friendly and warm, ensuring he had been treated like royalty, but yet still, he felt like a total outsider. 

Across the large room, Y/N was laughing again, the sound reaching him through the chorus of surrounding conversations, and his eyes found themselves searching for the owner of their own volition. 

Ji-ho was at her side once more, her hand brushing his arm, black dress clinging to her every curve. She looked stunning. Ji-ho passed Y/N a glass with a smile, and no matter what she had told him, it was almost impossible to go on watching the man who had walked beside the woman he wanted, who had her looking at him as though she belonged to him.  

Seokjin’s jaw ached from clenching it, his grip on his own glass so tight he thought it might shatter. With a superhuman effort, he tried once more to focus on the polite chatter of the group around him, but his gaze only drifted towards Y/N again and again. 

And she knew it. 

She felt his eyes on her, and at one point he saw her laughter fade, her eyes flitting up across the room to meet his. For one searing moment, their eyes locked, hers soft but tinged with hurt, his burning with an unspoken passion. When she broke the connection, attention returning to Ji-ho, it felt like betrayal.

“Are you okay?” came someone’s voice as they nudged him slightly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he retorted a little too sharply as he forced a smile. “Just a bit tired.”

Meanwhile inside, the jealousy and the hurt was eating him alive. 

When Seokjin bumped into her again later, it felt like fate was twisting the knife in. He had managed to find a quieter corner of the venue, hoping that being here would mean having to interact less with others. He was drained, mentally and physically, and didn’t want to see anyone, but he couldn’t leave just yet, thanks to contractual obligations. 

Y/N appeared suddenly, slipping away from the crowd as though it had become too much for her, her dark dress sparkling under the lights as she approached. She didn’t seem surprised to see him, and it felt almost like she had been searching, or so he told himself. 

“Seokjin,” she acknowledged quietly over the thrum of the distant music.

His throat tightened. “Shouldn’t you be with him?” he asked bitterly, unable to stop himself. 

Her brows rose in surprise at his tone. “So you’re still watching then?”

“How could I not?” The words burst out of him unrestrained. “You’re right in front of me. Even though you know what it’s doing to me, seeing his hands all over you, seeing everyone in this room assume that you’re his. It’s unbearable, Y/N.”

“Then why do you let it happen, Seokjin?” she asked, expression pained, voice taut with emotion, “Why do you stand there watching me, torturing yourself with this jealousy but never making any moves?” She drew in breath heavily. “−Never claiming me.”

All he wanted was to shout his confession to the world, pull her into his arms where she should be −but the fear of the threat of ruined careers, betrayal of trust to those who stood alongside him, and the fall from grace for not just him but for her too, had him chained. He couldn’t afford to be selfish in the way she wanted him to be, it wouldn’t be fair. 

“You know why,” he rasped. “If I take one wrong step, I could destroy everything. My band, my fans, my family. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk you.”

Her eyes glistened with anger that sparked through the sorrow. “Don’t use me as an excuse, Seokjin,” she warned. “You’re not protecting me like you think you are. You’re protecting yourself. You’re too afraid to fight for me, and you want me to accept scraps of you as if it will ever be enough.”

Her accusation stung, left him reeling. 

“Don’t you think I want to be yours?” she continued. “−That I haven’t imagined so many times how it would feel if you would just say it?” 

“Y/N −I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to, but−.”

‘Don’t, Seokjin,” she said firmly. “Don’t do this. While you stay silent, there will be someone else with me. Someone else who will touch me, make me laugh, or walk by my side through these crowds. If that kills you as much as you say it does, then do something about it.” 

Y/N shrugged. “Or don’t. But don’t you dare stand there and tear me apart with your jealousy if you’re never going to love me out loud.”

Between them, the air thickened with tension, and Seokjin’s eyes burned with everything he wanted to say. The love he had buried deep down, the longing he had supressed and the pain of missing her every day since they had parted. 

But when he reached out his hand, it shook and fell short, because he knew that his universe had limitations, and he wasn’t as free as she needed him to be. Once again, Y/N saw the choice he refused to make. She straightened up, shoulders back as she regarded him with steely resolve. “I thought so.”

He stood frozen, watching as she rejoined the party, at Ji-ho’s side, back to a life he couldn’t follow. Her laughter drifted through the air, and jealousy continued to scorch him mercilessly, the pain of his loss fresh once more as he realised that the cost of his silence was the only thing his heart had ever truly wanted. 

Seokjin knew he shouldn’t be drinking this quickly, but he felt like he was drifting slowly into a kind of madness. Around him, the party continued, laughter echoing louder, movements looser as the alcohol took hold. 

And just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take any more, before his eyes, his worst fear began to unfold. Ji-ho stood where he had been for the last hour, right at Y/N’s side, as though he were guarding her like some possessive beast just for himself. 

He leaned in closer to Y/N, brushing back a strand of hair behind her ear with practiced ease, his hand lingering against her cheek just long enough for the cameras and whispers to catch it. The crowd around them rippled with delighted murmurs at the sight of what was almost certainly more than just a rumour being born right there in real time. 

Seokjin’s heart seized tightly behind his ribcage. The music blanked out, and his focus was lost on everything aside the sight of her lips parting in surprise, the way she shifted ever so slightly −but she didn’t push Ji-ho away.

Ji-ho’s hand dropped down, sliding to her waist, holding her like she already belonged to him. Staking his claim. Approving looks filled the room from people mesmerised by the beautiful couple forming in front of them. 

The effect on Seokjin was like wildfire. His glass slammed down on the nearest table, the music swallowing the sound of the crystal shattering into pieces just like his heart. Someone nearby glanced over, startled, but he was already on the move, storming through the room, slicing through the crowd, each step forward fuelled by months of restraint finally snapping. 

In seconds, he was at their side. 

“Y/N.” It was a command, and she turned instantly, taken aback at seeing the storm that had gathered in his eyes. 

Coolly, Ji-ho raised a questioning brow at Seokjin, his hand still resting at her waist possessively, fingers tightening on instinct. “Hello Seokjin,” he drawled in that smooth tone, “−Is everything okay?”

Seokjin ignored him, his gaze fixated on Y/N, his fire and pain and desperation all tangled in a mess of emotions. “I need to talk to you −now.”

The tension was electric. Guests nearby stared curiously over, sensing the crack in the perfect façade. Y/N stiffened, but then nodded faintly, lips pressing together as she gently removed Ji-ho’s hand from her waist and followed Seokjin out of the room. 

They entered a side room off the hallway wordlessly but no sooner had he closed the door behind them, Seokjin turned, his breath harsh, hands balled into fists that trembled at his sides as he glared at Y/N. 

“You let him touch you like that?” he spat, “Go ahead and tell me that was just publicity. How could it be when you let him put his hands all over you, right in front of everyone?”

“Have you gone mad?” Y/N asked. “Do you even know how many people were watching? You can’t behave like this here −are you crazy?”

“Yes, yes Y/N, I have gone crazy!” he answered, voice raised now. “I don’t care who saw what. How the hell could you do that to me? I should fucking kill him!”

Y/N flinched visibly at his intensity, her own voice shaky and broken now. “Seokjin, stop. It wasn’t−.”

“I can’t stop!” he exploded, “You have no idea how many nights I have had to swallow everything down. How many times I’ve stood in silence while my heart tore itself apart while I tried to go on living with my decision. Now this? Seeing you with him like that hurts, Y/N.”

“Have you been drinking?” she asked cautiously. “Are you drunk?”

“No! This isn’t drink, Y/N. Listen to me,” he said frustratedly. “Tonight, I didn’t know you would be here. When I saw you, I thought maybe I could try and endure it. But I can’t −I can’t watch it anymore. I won’t!” 

She looked at him for a long time. “Then what do you want me to do, Seokjin?” she asked quietly. “Tell me that. You say you can’t watch me, but you don’t want to fight for me. You don’t choose me, but you want me to suffer in silence and keep waiting for you −is that it?” Tears filled her eyes. “Is that really what you want from me?”

Seeing her pain shattered him, Seokjin couldn’t bear it any longer. Without any thought, he came forward, clasping her hand in his. “I want you,” he whispered fiercely. “It’s you I have always wanted. You know that.”

“You never prove that” Y/N replied tearfully. “I can’t just stay as yours on the side, Seokjin. I can’t live like that.”

“I want to be the man who holds you and makes you laugh,” he said. “But I was afraid of losing everything I’ve built, I didn’t want to drag you into the fire with me.” 

He took a deep breath, fighting to stay composed. “Tonight when I saw him touch you, I realised I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t watch you with someone else when it should be me.”

Her lips trembled, her hand tightening around his. “What? Do you really mean that?”

He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, breathing fast and ragged, voice full of emotion. “Yes,” he whispered. “I’d rather ruin myself than watch you in anyone else’s arms.”

“Please,” she looked up, pleading. “Please don’t say something you won’t stand by. It hurt so much all this time to wonder whether all we had was real. I hoped every single day that you would−.” 

His throat closed. “No, Y/N −I mean it,” he begged. “I can’t let you walk away. Don’t let him have you −he can’t have you.”

“This isn’t about him, it’s about us,” Y/N said. “I can’t be the one you love in secret while the world gets the perfect version of you. It’s not enough for me to stay in the sidelines as your support act.”

Tears finally spilled down his cheeks, uncaring who might see, or if anyone heard. “You’re never the support act, Y/N,” he told her. “You’re my everything. I don’t care about the headlines or rumours, or any of that. Just don’t make me live without you anymore −I need you”

She looked at him as though she wanted to believe him. “You say that now, but what about tomorrow. When the alcohol is out of your system, when the cameras are everywhere and the eyes of the world are back on you again –what then, Seokjin? People are probably already wondering where the hell you went with me.”

He moved closer, one hand rising to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that slid down. “I don’t care. I’ll make everyone see that I chose you. I’ll talk to the guys, I’ll explain it all. They’ll understand,” he said reassuringly. “And if they don’t, I will face it all if it means I don’t lose you again.”

Her breath caught, lashes lowering as she leaned into his touch, resting her face into his palm. She had waited too long for this moment, to see him without his defences, heart stripped bare. 

Seokjin took her face gently in his hands and slowly brought his lips to hers in a kiss that was pure fire and longing. It wasn’t rehearsed, just messy and desperate, the overdue kind that spoke of a need for one another so deep it was more than air. Y/N kissed him back with equal ferocity, fingers embedding in his shirt, in his well-styled hair, holding on to him as though he were a lifeline. 

“This is dangerous,” she whispered breathlessly as they pulled back for a moment. 

“I know,” he murmured, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “−But not as dangerous as living without you.”

As footsteps sounded outside the door, voices nearing, intruding their new bubble of togetherness with the reality that awaited them, Seokjin’s heart pounded as he pulled Y/N closer, shielding her instinctively in his arms. 

But for the first time, Seokjin didn’t feel the fear as much as he had before, because in her eyes, he saw something worth burning for.

ˋ°•*⁀➷Thanks for Reading! ❤︎ ❤︎ MASTERLIST

But something about knowing he’d be there—knowing Mingyu would be somewhere in this crowd, laughing with friends and pretending like your breakup hadn’t wrecked him—made your blood simmer.

And if he could pretend he was fine.

So could you. You looked good. No, better than good. Perfect.

A black silk lace dress clung to your body, the thin straps showing off your shoulders, the slit high enough to flash your thigh when you walked.

You were a walking distraction. And you knew Mingyu would notice. He always noticed.

The moment you stepped out onto the terrace, you felt it.

You didn’t even have to look to know exactly where it was coming from.

Still, you turned slowly, gaze drifting across the crowd until it landed on him near the bar.

Mingyu stood with a small group of familiar people, a glass of whiskey loose in his hand.

But the second his eyes met yours? Something in his expression shifted. His smile disappeared. His jaw tightened slightly.

Mingyu looked like he wanted to tear you apart.

Good.

You smiled sweetly before turning away like he didn’t exist.

Instead, you walked toward the group gathered near the lounge seating.

That’s where you found Jaehyun. Tipsy, charming, and already halfway through another drink.

He perked up the second he saw you.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” he said with a grin, shifting so you could sit beside him.

You sat down easily. “Miss me?”

“Obviously,” he laughed. “We thought you were avoiding everyone after… you know.”

Your breakup. You shrugged lightly, taking the drink someone offered you.

“Just needed a little detox,” you said casually. “From certain things.”

Mingyu’s fingers tightened around his glass as he watched you settle beside Jaehyun.

You crossed your legs slowly, the slit in your dress shifting just enough to reveal more skin.

You could practically feel his stare burning into your back. But you refused to look.

You leaned closer to Jaehyun, laughing a little louder than necessary at something he said.

His hand brushed your knee casually as he spoke.

From across the room, Mingyu’s jaw ticked. It was a petty game.

But you wanted him to feel it.

Because when Mingyu broke up with you, if you could even call it that, it hadn’t been clean.

It was messy. Raised voices in his apartment. His hands dragging through his hair in frustration.

You telling him you were tired of coming second to schedules, cameras, and expectations.

“You knew what this was when we started,” he’d snapped.

“And you knew I deserved more than being your secret,” you’d shot back.

The fight ended with you walking out. And him letting you. So now here you were. Untouchable. Unbothered. Playing with fire.

You saw Mingyu set his drink down harder than necessary at the bar from the corner of your eye.

His shoulders were tense now.

His attention completely locked on you.

You bit your lip slightly. That rage in his eyes? That was for you. You barely heard what Jaehyun said next.

Something about missing you around, maybe. You weren’t really listening.

Instead, you turned toward him slowly. Smiled. And kissed him. Not a quick peck. Not polite. You kissed him deliberately.

Like your heart wasn’t racing because you knew Mingyu was watching.

It only lasted a few seconds. Suddenly. Hands grabbed you. One arm wrapped firmly around your waist while the other gripped your wrist as you were pulled away mid-kiss.

“What the—” Jaehyun started.

Your body collided with a chest you knew instantly. Mingyu.

His cologne hit you first—warm, clean, unmistakably him.

“What are you doing?!” you snapped, trying to twist away, but his grip only tightened.

He leaned down, mouth close to your ear.

“You trying to start something tonight?” he muttered, voice low and rough. “Because it’s working.”

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could respond, Mingyu was already pulling you away from the crowd, ignoring the curious looks starting to form around the room.

“Let go of me, Mingyu—”

“Not happening.”

He led you down the quiet hallway near the rooftop lounge before stopping abruptly, spinning you so your back pressed against the wall.

His arms braced on either side of your head.

You were completely trapped between him and the wall.

“You really think I’m gonna just stand there and watch you kiss someone else?” he said quietly.

“You don’t get to be jealous,” you shot back, chest rising and falling. “You’re the one who ended it.”

His eyes flashed.

“Didn’t think you’d move on that fast. And with Jaehyun- of all people?”

You scoffed. “Didn’t think you’d let me walk away so easily.”

That shut him up.

For a moment, Mingyu just looked at you.

His eyes dragged slowly down your body—the dress, the bare skin of your legs, the way the fabric clung to your waist.

His jaw tightened.

“You wore that knowing I’d be here,” he said quietly.

Not a question. You lifted your chin.

“I wore it for me.”

“Bullshit.”

His voice dropped lower.

“You wanted a reaction.”

He stepped closer, his thigh pressing lightly between yours.

“And congratulations,” he murmured. “You got one.”

Your breath caught.

Mingyu leaned down slightly, his height forcing you to tilt your chin up just to hold his gaze.

“You miss me,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it almost brushed against your lips.

“Not even a little,” you whispered, forcing a scoff as you lightly shoved at his chest, trying to create space between you.

He barely moved.

A quiet, humourless laugh slipped from him as he straightened.

For a moment he just stood there in front of you, hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers, shoulders relaxed in that frustratingly confident way of his.

But his eyes.

His eyes dragged slowly over your face. Taking you in like he was memorising every detail you’d tried so hard to hide from him tonight.

Your lips. Your expression.

The way your breathing wasn’t quite steady.

His jaw tightened slightly.

“Liar,” he said softly.

And then he moved.

The distance between you disappeared in a second as his hand came up to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him before you could even react.

His mouth crashed into yours. Hard.

Not careful. Not gentle.

It was the kind of kiss that came from hours of restraint finally snapping.

The frustration, the jealousy, the weeks of pretending he didn’t want you.

All of it poured into that single moment.

Your back hit the wall again as he kissed you, breath rough against yours.

And instead of pushing him away, your hands fisted in the front of his shirt, dragging him closer like you’d been waiting for it too.

~

The sheets were cool against your spine when Mingyu laid you down, but his body was all heat, pressing into yours with enough urgency to make your breath catch.

The kiss was rough, punishing, all teeth and heat. You bit his lip back, nails digging into his arms, still furious—still wanting him.

Your hips betrayed you, pressing into his.

“You’re such an asshole,” you gasped when his mouth moved to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

“I know,” he muttered.

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed like it was muscle memory, tossing you down.

His hands were already everywhere—too fast, too sure—pushing fabric out of the way like it didn’t matter.

“You were wet the whole time, weren’t you?” he rasped, fingers sliding through you without mercy.

You sucked in a breath as his fingers sank inside you.

“And you’re telling me you wanted Jaehyun tonight instead of me,” he continued, voice dark.

“Shut up,” you gasped, grabbing his hoodie and yanking him down.

He kissed you again, biting your lip, grinding into you hard enough that you felt just how much he wanted you.

You reached for his belt, impatient, needy. “Take it off. Now.”

He did, no hesitation, dragging himself through your slick slowly, deliberately.

“Say it,” he said hoarsely. “Say you want me.”

You glared up at him. “I hate you.”

He thrust into you in one deep, brutal motion.

Your head fell back, a broken sound tearing out of you as he filled you completely.

He stayed there, buried, breathing hard.

“I said say it.”

“Go to hell.”

“Say it.”

Your voice cracked. “I want you.”

He smirked. “Yeah. I know you do.”

And then he moved.

Hard, relentless, like he was fucking every ounce of frustration out of both of you.

Every glare. Every second of jealousy Every moment he’d made you feel small.

“You gonna come for me like this?” he panted. “Still mad?”

You clawed down his back, hips rolling up to meet him.

“Don’t stop.” He didn’t.

Your orgasm tore through you, sharp and overwhelming, his name spilling from your mouth as you clenched around him.

He followed with a low groan, forehead pressed to yours, still inside you.

You stayed tangled together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked and quiet.

His were still holding you like he hadn’t quite decided whether to let go.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. And that was worse.

Because now there was no distraction.

You swallowed, your chest rising and falling as reality started creeping back in.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you said finally.

Mingyu didn’t answer right away. His grip on you tightened slightly.

“Doesn’t it?” he murmured.

You let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking your head.

"No," you said flatly. "We're not doing this again, Mingyu."

"Do what?" He looks at you.

“This,” you gestured weakly between you, frustration bleeding back in. “Act like you still want me when you were the one who let me walk away.”

His jaw tightened.

“I didn’t want you to walk away.”

“But you did,” you snapped.

That hit harder this time. You saw it in his face. The way his expression faltered—just for a second.

“I thought it was the right thing,” he said quietly.

“For who?” you shot back.

He didn’t answer. Simply because he didn’t have one.

Silence stretched between you again, thick and suffocating.

You pulled back slightly this time.

And this time, he let you. That hurt more than it should’ve.

You slid off the bed, retrieving your dress with shaky hands, avoiding his gaze.

Behind you, Mingyu sat there for a moment, watching you. You could feel it.

“You really kissed him just to piss me off?” he asked, softer now.

You paused. Then glanced at him over your shoulder.

“Did it work?”

A small, humourless huff left him.

“Yeah,” he said. “It did.”

You nodded once, like that was all you needed to hear. Then you turned back toward the door.

“Might do it again,” you added lightly.

That made him move. Fast. His hand caught your wrist before you could reach the handle.

“Don’t,” he said.

You looked down at where he was holding you. Then back up at him.

“Why?” you asked with a slight tilt of your head.

His grip tightened just slightly.

“Because I don’t think I can watch that twice.”

Slowly, you slipped your hand out of his grasp.

“Then don’t look,” you said before turning around him and walking out,, leaving him standing there.

So, maybe that’s how you end up like this. Thighs quivering, your fingers gripping onto the corner of the bedsheet as Jin kept your hips tilted up. His strong thighs smack into the back of yours while his pelvis hits the curve of your ass over and over again. He's pounding the entire length of his cock into your pretty pussy without remorse, grumbling under his breath, while digging his fingertips into the soft squish of your hips.

He's punching out every garbled whine from your glossy lips as he quite literally fucks you into the mattress. Making you take everything with a, “Might be old, but I can still fuck you stupid.” It's a mean taunt that makes your gummy walls squeeze his shaft in tremors. The heat in your lower stomach twisted as you felt his breath on the back of your neck, his lips caressing the slope of your shoulder as you moaned.

You didn’t need to look at Jin to know he was smirking. The filthy wet “plap, plap, plap” sounds of your sweet pussy taking his cock were enough to stroke his ego and make his dick throb. He was rubbing his cock deliciously along your velvety walls as he fucked you like he was mad at you.

And you guess he just might be. Just a little, if so, and you knew exactly where you went wrong.

You had been with Jin for a while now, giggling along to the chaos all his friends brought when the seven of them got together, and shaking your head in amusement as they kept the jokes coming. They'd drag each other through the mud with cheeky grins and raised eyebrows, trying to one-up the other before someone was in tears with laughter.

And you hadn’t meant to laugh when the joke was used against Jin, but when the topic changed, you had barely registered the jab Jungkook said before you giggled.

He had said something about you dressing up this year as a nurse for Halloween, specifically a nursing assistant to squeeze just one more old joke at the expense of Jin, and you had laughed with a roll in your eyes because the truth was quite the opposite.

Jin may be the eldest in the friend group, but he was actually far from it mentally and physically. His nickname in group chats was “true maknae,” and he never failed to prove it with quick wit matched with a quicker laugh that was contagious to anyone who was around.

And for the physical part, well, you’d blush recounting the many times Jin showed just how spry he was behind closed doors with you.

His age really was just a number, so yes, you giggled, and Jungkook grinned - thinking you were laughing at his joke - while Jin’s eyes caught yours and sobered you up almost immediately. Just one look from him, and you knew you had fucked up.

“Why aren’t you laughing now, Baby?” Jin asked, and your eyes crossed lewdly when he leaned his weight on his hips, stuffing you full with a harder stroke that made your vision whiten. “All I can hear is this pretty pussy crying for more- begging for it, actually.“ His teeth gritted, and the suction of your drooling cunt made his hips stutter, proving his point.

You were so wet your arousal splashed each time his balls smacked into your puffy clit, sending you closer to the edge, literally, physically, and mentally. And you had a feeling that if you did fall face-first off the edge of the bed, it wouldn’t stop the lecherous strokes of his cock swabbing along your soft cervix. If anything, it’d give Jin a better angle to fuck you, and he huffed a delirious laugh as he rocked his hips forward while dragging you back to meet his obscene thrusts.

“Where you tryin' to go?” He teased, and your legs shook as your boyfriend clamped a large hand on the back of your neck, his palm digging between your shoulder blades to keep you from squirming away. “Don't turn away, your pussy doesn't want me to stop - heh- she’s slobbering all over me.”

And he wasn't wrong. The squelches of your pussy taking everything Jin gave only grew louder as your blush deepened on your cheeks, and your nails clawed at the bedsheets underneath you. “Oh! Jin, please, please!” It felt too good; you felt stupid. Your back naturally arched more, like a cat in heat, giving Jin a better angle to ruin you. "M'gonna cum, oh fuck-" Your gasps came up short, and your body jumped, trying to escape the delicious feeling of Jin's heavy cock bullying its way deeper.

But when you moved, so did he, following your fluttering cunt as you toppled over the edge of the bed. Your hands braced you on the floor, and Jin's hands clutched your hips, keeping your bottom half up on the bed with a bewildered laugh. "If you're gonna cum, it'll be on me, now stay still." He didn't even bother helping you up, just using the new angle to reach places you didn't know existed. "Let me feel ya'- that's it, open up for me just like that."

Your squeal gets ripped from your lips as he makes your toes curl in ecstasy. The rotund head of his cock kisses the back of your cunt with wads of precum, marking you deeper than before, and effectively making you cockdrunk. Your tongue lolls out, your eyes roll back, and Jin's grin is almost feral as he feels you clamp around him, gushing your orgasm all over his thick cock like he wanted.

He uses your sweet slick to keep pounding into you, listening to the way your pussy cries louder than your mouth as he fucks you through it. "Ah- jus' like that! Fuck! Keep going! Yes, yes!" Your words slur and your brain blanks as he abuses the soft, spongey spot inside you, rendering you speechless as he keeps going, as you asked.

You feel drool form at the corner of your lips, your thighs quivering as you barely hear Jin's praises. "Taking me so well. Feels like heaven, squeezing me like that, Baby." He huffs between grunts, sweat lining down his chest as he thrusts harder. The tufts of dark hair at his base were soaked with your arousal, and it only made him more cocky to see the way your pussy drooled for him.

He watched the way your pretty pussy slurped on his cock, creaming around his shaft, while his hands clutched the curves of your hips to keep you from fully falling off the bed. He was drunk off your pussy, delirious, and still riled up from before.

"Y'know what? I may be older, but you like that." He smirked, putting his body weight into each hefty roll of his hips. "No one younger can make you feel like this the way I can." It was a fact. He would make sure you would feel him hours later, whether by swirling his tip meanly against your cervix or by stuffing you full of his cum.

And he decided to do both.

" Gimme one more- jus' one more, Baby." Jin groans it like a mantra, brows furrowed, his bottom lip bitten in concentration as he reels his hips back before surging them forward again.

You were so warm and sloppy, dripping on him while he used you, and it really didn't take long before you were crying out his name - falling into your second orgasm with a squeal.

Your pretty pussy swallowed him to the hilt, fluttering around his shaft desperately while he grinded his hips into your ass, turning your brain into mush. And it was exactly what Jin needed to fall forward with a groan.

Your velvety walls milked his cock in waves, massaging his length and sending you both to the ground as he painted your weeping cunt white. His tip pulsed, spilling rope and after rope of his seed until you were filled to the brim, both of you relishing in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

And it takes you a few moments before you can unglue your tongue from the roof of your mouth, feeling like you ran a marathon. "I wasn't even laughing at you," you finally huffed, your heart racing in your ears.

Your words take a moment to process, and another moment for Jin to respond to. His age shows as he blinks. "What?"

"I was laughing at how wrong they were. You may be older, but only in age." You say with a roll of your eyes, grinning when Jin blinks again.

You think you will have to repeat yourself when he doesn't respond right away. But then he's rolling you both around until you're lying on top of him. Your back is to his chest, and your thighs are bracketing his legs when his hands slide down your soft body. One of his hands squeezes your breasts, while the other finds your clit, making you jolt as he places a kiss on the back of your neck.

"Well, good, take this as a reminder then." He hummed, and you felt the familiar heat pool in your lower stomach as he rubbed little hearts onto your sensitive clit. "Now show me just how much you like your men older."

대박 - you made it to the end!

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SEUNGCHEOL⠀★⠀he’s your boss.

the lock on the door clicks behind you, a spotlight on the bulge prodding your thigh as seungcheol drags you back against him — impatient, now that the turmoil in him has finally given way. 

“sir—”

“don’t call me that.” he rasps, hands fisting in your blouse. “not right now, please.” 

you melt into him as his lips find your neck, pressing your body flush against his. he squeezes desperately at your sides as he throbs in his pants — nothing like the composed, strict boss you know. 

“if i’m about to make this mistake,” he mutters at your jaw, fingers twitching just beneath the swell of your breasts. “i need to know you want it too.”

“we shouldn’t..” you whisper against his mouth. 

“i know.” he swallows. “tell me to stop, and i will.” 

your answer is to pull him in by his tie, and press your lips to his — months of tension breaking loose into a messy, desperate kiss. seungcheol groans as you lick into his mouth, grabbing your ass through the skirt and rolling you against his hard-on.

“take this off for me?” he sighs, leaking into his suit pants from the friction. “been wanting to taste you..”

JEONGHAN⠀★⠀you’re his friend’s crush.

“keep an eye on her,” he’d said. “make sure she gets home safe.” the words of his best friend had gone through one ear, and jeonghan can feel them leave out the other as your tongue explores his mouth. 

jeonghan had kept an eye on you under flashing red lights — heat bubbling in his gut with each sway of your hips — and when you approached him, drawling that you wanted to leave, who is he to break a promise? 

it’s not jeonghan’s fault that you’d climbed over the car’s centre console and plopped yourself in his lap. he’s not to blame, really, when his honest first response was to resist. 

“sweetheart, we shouldn’t.” he’d sighed, dazed eyes watching you rock gently on his lap. his cock fills out his pants eagerly, and he clenches his fists to hold back. “my best friend likes you.” 

you hummed, fingers threading through his hair. “but i don’t want him.” 

jeonghan lets go — of his grip, and his control — as he swallows your breath in a kiss. allows himself to grab your waist, guiding you to grind against his bucking hips. 

his groan melts onto your lips, length pulsing where it rubs into your ass. “i don’t want that either.”

JOSHUA⠀★⠀he's waiting for marriage.

the barrier of fabric between you both is soaked through at this point — joshua in his boxers, rutting into your panties as you kiss and grope each other desperately for god knows how long at this point. it’s not nearly close enough, but your fiancee’s been steadfast in his beliefs and in his patience. 

you get tangled up like this every night, and each time joshua insists that you sleep before things go too far, smiling despite the obvious tent in his pants. 

you think tonight will be not different — until joshua pulls back with a low whimper, eyes raking over your body with a ruined look. 

“shit,” he curses, swallowing your gasp as he kisses you rougher than before. “we should just do it.”

“but.. we can’t..” you trail off into a light moan as joshua sucks at your neck, a large hand coming to squeeze your breast. 

“i want you.” you feel the way his cock throbs at your heat. he chuckles. “really bad. i might die before the wedding. it hurts me to turn you down..”

his hand skims down your tummy, stopping at your panties to ghost over your clit. he smiles at how your hips buck. 

“let me?”

JUN⠀★⠀he’s your leading man.

jun licks a whine from your mouth as it rolls off your tongue, his clothed length rutting just right against the thin cotton of your underwear. he presses you further into the wall, the heat between you growing damper. 

you almost forgot that this is the same junhui: a quiet character, playful on a good day — but particularly cold to you and you alone. his leading lady. even with the cameras, he struggles in pretending to even tolerate your presence, and it’s making your job harder. 

how ironic, that when you finally asked him outright what his problem was, you shortly found yourself smothered by him in a desperate kiss. 

“shit—this is a bad idea,” jun groans out onto your lips, precum staining his pants as he mindlessly humps up into you. “why am i even doing this?”

yet, he makes no move to pull away, and you smirk. 

“don’t go falling for me,” you quip, cut off with a gasp as his tip prods your clit in a particularly rough thrust. he steals another kiss from you, and you whimper. “…we should stop.”

“i know.” jun mutters, adam’s apple bobbing in a gulp as he watches where your hips roll together. “but i can’t.” 

SOONYOUNG⠀★⠀he’s your brother’s best friend.

you muffle soonyoung’s moan with a kiss, your hand down the front of his pants and wrapping around his cock. the first stroke brings a loud squelch from the amount of precum coating his length, and soonyoung’s head lolls back in pleasure — knocking against the bathroom mirror.

you shush him, teeth nipping at his tongue as a warning, earning a whine in response. you stop the movements of your hand, but his pelvis just jolts upward, fucking himself into your fist.

“you need to be quiet,” you whisper-yell. your brother would break this door down, and break his best friend’s legs if he knew you were in here together. 

“i shouldn’t be doing this,” soonyoung says weakly, but puts no effort to stop. his cock pulses in your hand as you twist at the tip. “i know better.”

you roll your eyes — he wants to self reflect now? when he’s already this hard?

your breath hitches as he reaches for you, firmly cupping his hand over your crotch. he groans, conflicted. “i want you..”

“better make it quick.”

“won’t last anyways.” he tugs your pants down, sighing in relief at the sight of your bare pussy. “your brother’s gonna kill me…”

WONWOO⠀★⠀his friends can hear.

wonwoo tilts his head at you like a curious cat as you climb into his lap. he cranes his neck around you to not lose sight of the computer screen — there’s a whole woman on top of him, and his attention still is on the game. you feel even less remorse for what you’re about to do.

you grab his chin, forcing him to look down at you. 

“what are you—” wonwoo chokes as you lift your skirt up, presenting your bare pussy pressed to his crotch. muffled voices come from his headphones, and he clarifies that he’s talking to you. great, there’s company. 

you’re too pent-up to care, grinding against his now half-hard length, and wonwoo lets out a pained noise. 

he reaches for his headphones, intending to mute himself, but you grab his hand and guide it to your pussy instead. wonwoo’s breath hitches as you coat his fingers in your arousal. he raises his hips from the chair, rubbing his boner into your ass. you let out a light whine as his fingers tap your clit. 

“we shouldn’t...” he murmurs, yet gently lifts you for room to tug his pants down, cock springing free. “just stay quiet.”

JIHOON⠀★⠀you both work early.

jihoon hums appreciatively as you massage the aches from his back. it was almost midnight by the time he got home from work and quietly crawled into bed. after slouching at a desk all day, the feel of your soft hands on him — groping, caressing — felt like fucking heaven. 

you missed him like hell, and the little noises of relief he was letting out from the massaging were driving you up the wall. before you know it — you’re palming jihoon through his boxers, desperately grinding yourself onto the hand he’s got down the front of your pyjama pants. 

you’re both exhausted from the day, kept awake only by the pure need caused by this proximity. jihoon’s barely keeping his eyes open, but he’s so hard and you’re so wet under his fingers. 

“baby, we should go to bed..” he grumbles, letting out a breathy moan when you squeeze his base. “we both have early starts in the morning.”  

you whine in protest, jihoon drawing the sound out as his thumb nudges your clit. 

“you sleep, then.” you pull his cock out and roll on top of him. he doesn’t even lift a finger to stop you. 

he groans in defeat, lining himself up. “after.”

SEOKMIN⠀★⠀you just got dumped.

“w-wait a second—” seokmin sputters, not sure what to do with his hands as your own start to feel him up. 

you don’t respond as you squeeze his thighs, fingers creeping further to the growing bulge in his shorts. 

“this isn’t right, i can’t,” he lets out a startled moan as your face nuzzles into his neck, breath tickling him. 

“can’t what?” you ask, licking a stripe up his skin. 

seokmin sighs. “i can’t do this to you..”

he can’t find the strength to push you away though, so he just sits there, body silently begging you to touch him. 

he still sees a taken girl when he looks at you — a girl who belongs to someone else. as a matter of two hours ago though, that’s not true anymore. 

you’re supposed to be heartbroken, and he was supposed to be comforting you. but he can’t help the way his heart swells over you being so quick to make a move. 

“we’re not doing anything?” you giggle, fingers ghosting over his lap, catching the way his dick throbs.

seokmin takes one look at your lips, then throws all caution to the wind — leaning in to kiss you desperately. 

no harm if you’re not doing anything, right?

MINGYU⠀★⠀you babysit his kid.

you brace yourself with a hand on the wall, whining out among the lewd squelching filling the room, too embarrassed to look down at the source: mingyu’s mouth going to town between your thighs. 

you’ve orgasmed twice at this point, but he showed no intentions of stopping after the first came quick. you can feel his smirk pressed into your skin as he laps at you like a dog, fucking only a single finger into your hole and it still being enough to fill you up. 

there hadn’t been any words, not since he’d asked if you’d seen his son to bed. you nodded, intending for him to pay you and send you on your way — not corner you and drop to his knees.

you squeak as mingyu hollows his cheeks to suck your clit, the sparks of a third orgasm rushing quickly into your gut. 

“m-mr. kim,” you whimper, earning a smug chuckle to rumble on your clit. 

“what is it, pretty?” 

“we should stop..” 

you’re taken aback when he listens, licking his lips as he pulls away. 

“if that’s what you want.”

you swallow, noticing his other hand gripping himself through the pants. then, you softly shake your head — and he smirks.

“turn around for me.”

MINGHAO⠀★⠀he’s looking after you.

“hm?” minghao lets you pull him down to the bed, and you wrap your arms around his waist. “did you need anything else?” 

he gently strokes your hair, smiling fondly at how you’re clinging to him. it’s been dark days as of late — and minghao’s been here to support you through it. carrying you to the shower when you can’t leave bed, spoonfeeding you since you’d rather starve. 

he doesn't need any thanks. not every best friend might go to those lengths, but minghao does because he loves you. 

minghao’s body freezes when he feels your mouth pressing kisses to his open palm. you try to pry his thighs open, and he stops you with a gentle hand on your face.

“we shouldn’t do this..” he sighs. “not because i don’t want you, but… it isn’t right. not now.”

you pout at him, resting your head in his lap as your fingers slide to his crotch. despite his reluctance, he’s already half-hard.

“i want to feel good,” you palm at him, and he just barely whimpers. “please?”

minghao’s weak to the way your eyes plead at him. he relents, pulling you up for a kiss and savouring your lips on his for the first time.

“if it makes you feel better.”

SEUNGKWAN⠀★⠀you’re at a party.

“tell me you’re mine.” seungkwan rasps, crooking two of his fingers up into your pussy. you squeak out the words, your entire body buzzing with heat over this unfamiliar side of your loving boyfriend. 

seungkwan’s angry, has been since he pulled you into this bathroom by the arm, shutting out the rest of the party as he pushed you against the locked door. 

you’re trying your best to stay quiet — but it seems like he wants to provoke you into making noise as his thumb swipes at your clit and his fingers fuck into your g-spot, uncaring for whoever hears. 

“boo,” you whimper, insanely attracted to him. “we shouldn’t.. not here..”

seungkwan clicks his teeth, ripping his hand away. he steals your lips in a harsh kiss, licking into your mouth like he’s trying to prove a point — which he gets when your hips buck, chasing his touch. 

you moan in surprise as he rubs his tip through your folds. you’re so worked up that you hadn’t even realised he pulled his cock out. 

“i’m not going to hold back, so don’t you either.” he bites at your lower lip, and you just melt. “i want that fucker to hear.”

VERNON⠀★⠀you’re not using protection.

you tremble under vernon, nails digging into his tensed forearms as he grinds against you — skin to skin, your combined arousal squelching with each rut of his cock through your folds. 

his tip bumps your clit so perfectly, and he’s watching each little reaction on your face so intently that you could cry. not just because of how loved you feel, but how bad you need him too.

vernon’s even worse off than you are — but he can’t cross this line. unless.. 

“i know we shouldn’t,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth when his tip catches on your hole with a particularly rough thrust. “but, fuck, i’m really struggling here..”

“me too,” you admit, wrapping your arms around his toned back. “i want it.”

his eyes widen, slowing the rocks of his body, and you nearly choke from the loss of friction. “don’t just say that..”

“i’m not,” you give him a reassuring smile, pecking his nose sweetly. “i want to feel you.”

“fuck.” he groans when he dives in for a kiss, reaching down to line himself up. his head of his cock just nudges your heat, and it twitches. “okay.. but if you say—”

“not gonna wanna stop.”

CHAN⠀★⠀you’re both too drunk.

you giggle as chan’s heavy breath tickles your neck. his lips latch onto the skin to suck a bruise and you shiver, body writhing under his pinning you to the couch. 

“baby, shi—stop squirming, please,” he moans out at your frantic hips rutting against the tent in his pants — the throb of his cock matching the one in his temples. 

your head is swimming, chan’s touch leaving a trail of fire across your sweating body. you can’t even remember leaving the bar, let alone making it home; all your hazy brain knows for sure is that you need chan. 

“want it,” you bumble, not a thought passing in your head as you reach down to grip him. chan keels over, his drunken lust taking over as he humps into your hand.

“we shouldn’t do this,” he huffs to himself, a brief moment of clarity. it wouldn’t be right. 

you’re so sensitive to everything right now, you swear your eyes well up in desperation. or maybe your vision’s just that blurry. determined, you drag your crotch against him, moaning out at the burning friction.

his mouth drops open in a whimper, just letting you. “but, i guess we could..”

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JEALOUS!SEOKJIN who imagined himself by your side at parties. but that didn’t stop Jin from admiring you. leaning into a corner, away from people and confusion, Jin saw you winning over an entire audience. whether you do it on purpose or not even realizing, the truth is that your nature – so pure, so beautiful, so distinct – was enough to captivate anyone. and it was a dream to be in your presence, an ambition few achieved. Jin could only see himself by your side, smiling at your words, providing you with all the laughter, being himself, and being enough.

JEALOUS!SEOKJIN who sends you random messages so you won’t forget him. Jin’s messages weren’t always direct: sometimes, he’d remind you of that appointment you couldn’t miss; other times, he’d just tell you another dad joke that left you wondering if you really wanted to be friends with him; other times, he’d send you reminders, little words that tried to express the universe that existed within him in two mere lines. ‘you found a side of me i didn’t know existed. and you cared for it and raised it to love you. and i love you.’

JEALOUS!SEOKJIN who asks you what he means to you. and when those reminders stopped producing reassurances, when Jin’s words just floated gently on the sea of ​​your love, with no chance of sinking into your devotion, Jin spoke. it was too painful to continue living that way, utterly impossible to walk in a limbo between wanting and suffering. and when he lost his balance, when he caught a glimpse of the suffering, Jin knew he didn’t want to experience it. and that’s why he told you. ‘i think i’m jealous. i can’t explain it, but i feel like my presence becomes insignificant when there are more people with us. i’m not saying you do it on purpose. nor that you have to stop having friends because of me. i just wanted to tell you how i feel. because when i say i love you, i really love you.’

JEALOUS!SEOKJIN who actually smiles when you kiss his cheek. you didn’t need to say anything to calm Jin’s heart. all you had to do was smile – a smile wider than you smiled with others. all you had to do was look at him – eyes brighter than you had with others. all you had to do was lean in close to Jin’s face, gently brush your nose against his, and give him a small, shy, heartfelt kiss on his cheek – the only kiss you’ve ever given anyone.

he’s not completely awake either; that’s what makes it even more frustrating.

being close to you and having you in his arms often helps him sleep. stops him from tossing and turning all night.

right now, it only seems to be doing the opposite.

maybe he shouldn’t have looked at you when you slipped under the covers beside him a few hours ago. not wearing anything other than soft cotton panties and a white tank top that perfectly showed your nipples through the thin fabric.

and now, with his front pressed against your back, the feeling of your body so close to his causes a shaky exhale, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses, and before he knows it, he’s unintentionally grinding against your ass.

he knows he’s fucked when he thinks about your conversation from several weeks ago.

you’d brought it up so casually. i wouldn’t mind you touching me while i’m asleep, you’d said, or fucking me.

he can still taste the damn coffee that accidentally went up his nose afterwards.

most of the time, he falls asleep before you do. he’s used to closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep practically immediately, so perhaps that’s why he’d never thought about touching you while you slept before you recently brought it up.

and up until you did, he didn’t think you’d be into it. he didn’t think he’d be, either.

yet here he is, letting his left hand slide down towards your hip, rubbing his hardening cock against you. he feels the fabric of your panties under the pads of his fingers, glancing back up at your face for a second.

he wants you to remain asleep a little longer, eager to see how you’ll react to it.

only wearing a pair of boxers, he moves away from his spot behind you, and you instinctively switch to your back from the loss of his presence by your side. he positions himself between your legs, deciding to leave your grey panties on for now.

with one hand, he slowly rubs your clothed pussy, feeling your clit, while he uses his other hand to push the hem of your tank top upwards, baring your tits to the cool air in the room.

god, you look straight out of a wet dream.

and he’s just so insatiable when it comes to you. leaning down, he licks your nipple, and it makes you stir under him for the first time.

unable to resist, he mouths at your breast, teeth grazing past the skin gently enough not to hurt but still make you feel it. he keeps rubbing little circles on your pussy, feeling his cock twitch, and he grinds himself against the mattress, desperate for some friction.

he was planning to keep quiet, but he’s getting so ridiculously hard that it hurts. it makes him grunt as if he’s in pain, and seeing that little wet spot forming on the grey fabric you’ve got on is just making it worse.

hooking his finger under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down, bunching them up in the palm of his hand, the combined scent of that sweet soap you always use on your body and that of your arousal causing him to feel like he’s insane.

continuing to rub your clit, he gently pushes two fingers into you, and you let out a familiar sigh in pleasure, still sound asleep, even though your body is being more than responsive to his touch.

regardless, he’s shocked at how easily his fingers enter you. he retracts his hand, sticking his fingers in his mouth to taste your arousal, a few drops of pre-cum leaking into the material of his boxers. it prompts him to remove it, remaining naked on your shared bed.

yeah, you’re wet enough to take him, but it doesn’t stop him from grabbing the lube out of the bottom drawer of his nightstand, squirting some of it onto himself.

his head is spinning while he coats his cock in the cold liquid. he’s breathing erratically, incapable of looking away from your body, numerous ways of touching you running through his mind. he wonders if you’d enjoy waking up to his cock in your mouth, or a toy in your ass, or both — god, given the way you two always fuck, you probably would.

and imagining it drives him crazy.

he rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, forcing himself not to bust just from the way you’re twitching at the feeling of him.

finally, he allows himself to slide into your warm body, fingers trembling at the overwhelming sensation. “oh, fuck.”

with a patience he didn’t know he possessed, he takes the time to sheathe himself all the way inside you, hovering over your body. a shameless moan leaves him as he begins to move.

it’s enough to finally wake you from your deep sleep, and you look up, a little disoriented, trying to process what he’s doing.

“gyu?” you mutter his name, immediately followed by a gasp.

keeping a slow, steady pace, he fondles your breasts. “didn’t mean to wake you, baby.”

you both know he most certainly did. you bite your lip, a soft, dragged-out moan escaping you. meeting his dark eyes, you’re debating whether he’s not fully awake either or just a little dazed from the new experience.

his face is flushed, skin coated in a thin layer of sweat, the vein in his forehead popping out, all while he’s fucking you slow and deep. he’s so fucking deep — it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. the silver necklace you’ve always found looks undeniably good on him sways above you with every snap of his hips, and he maintains eye contact with you, particularly when you raise your hands to put them on the back of his neck.

he watches how your face contorts with pleasure, rutting into you, and he lowers his body to have his lips just barely touching yours, breathing into each other’s mouths.

“you just looked so fucking pretty,” he admits, pausing mid-sentence to shudder from the way you’re clenching around him, “i couldn’t help it.”

god, there’s something about seeing him this way that makes your eyes roll back in your skull. he’s bigger than you in every way, a hulk of a man, yet all he aches for is your touch.

“yeah? you just had to have me?” you breathe out shakily, and mingyu nods.

“mhm. wanted to fuck you so bad,” he hums, kissing you between the slurred words.

moving your hips to match his rhythm, he’s completely fucking gone. all that exists to him right now is you — the way your pussy hugs his cock like he’s not allowed to leave, the sound of your erotic moans, your hand cupping his face like you’re about to tell him he’s doing such a good job.

the words rolling off your tongue practically send him into overdrive. “come in me, please, gyu. i want it in me.”

with jittery breaths, his hips stutter, his fingers subconsciously digging harshly into your skin while he comes. it makes your thighs tremble, hips bucking up against him, and with some added friction on your clit, you’re seeing stars underneath him.

he all but collapses on top of you, his heart rate eventually slowing.

“i love you,” you hear him mumble with his cheek against your collarbone.

he’s got his eyes closed, and you doubt he’s still awake when you say it back. “love you too.”

thanks for reading, let me know if you enjoyed it x

After years as a successful idol, the environment felt almost normal now.

Still, your heart was beating a little faster today.

Not because of the show.

But because he was here too.

Mingyu.

Your relationship was one of the best-kept secrets in the industry. Only a handful of people knew, your families, your managers , his members, and your closest friends.

To everyone else, you were simply colleagues who occasionally interacted at award shows.

But behind closed doors?

He was yours. And you were his.

Your stage had just finished about twenty minutes ago.

Your adrenaline was still lingering, the echo of the crowd’s cheers replaying in your head as you walked down the hallway toward your dressing room, a staff member trailing slightly behind you.

The performance had gone perfectly.

You were just turning the corner when someone called your name.

“Y/n.”

You stopped.

And immediately recognised the voice.

You turned to see him leaning casually against the wall.

Hyunjin.

Who had made it painfully obvious for months that he liked you.

Fans loved it. They thought it was cute. Funny. Endearing.

Clips of him mentioning you during interviews. His reactions to your performances. His members teasing him whenever your name came up.

Those clips constantly showed up on Mingyu’s social media feeds.

And every time he saw them, his jaw clenched.

You had told him countless times it didn’t mean anything. But that didn’t mean he liked it.

Not one bit.

He pushed himself off the wall, smiling as he walked over to you.

“You did really well on stage,” he said, eyes scanning you with a grin. “Honestly, I think that was your best performance yet.”

You smiled politely.

“Thank you.”

He stepped a little closer.

Close enough that you could smell his cologne.

“I was watching from the monitor,” he continued. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Your manager shifted slightly beside you.

The comment definitely sounded like flirting.

But you kept your composure.

“That’s kind of you,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral.

He leaned a shoulder against the wall beside you now, lowering his voice slightly.

“So… are you busy after the show?”

Before you could answer, the door to Seventeen’s dressing room down the hall opened.

And out walked Mingyu.

He had originally stepped out to grab a drink from the vending machine at the end of the corridor.

But then he saw you. And more importantly, who you were standing with.

He paused.

From across the hallway he could see Hyunjin standing far too close to you.

Talking. Smiling. Leaning in.

Mingyu didn’t even need to hear the conversation to know what was happening.

His jaw tightened.

That same guy. The one whose clips kept appearing on his feed. The one fans kept pairing with you online.

For a moment, Mingyu simply watched.

Your body language was polite.

But Hyunjin was clearly pushing it.

And that was enough. Mingyu started walking. Long strides. Confident. Unhurried.

The two of you hadn’t noticed him yet.

Hyunjin was still talking.

“So I was thinking, maybe we could grab dinner sometime. Just the two of—”

Suddenly, a large hand slid around your waist. Your breath caught. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who it was.

Mingyu pulled you gently but firmly against his side.

Your back pressed against his chest.

His arm wrapped securely around your waist like it belonged there.

Because it did. Your manager froze.

Hyunjin in front of you blinked in shock.

And Mingyu? He didn’t look the slightest bit bothered.

He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing softly against your temple as he pressed a brief kiss there.

The gesture was casual and natural.

Like he’d done it a thousand times. Because he had.

Then Mingyu lifted his head. And looked directly at him.

His expression wasn’t angry. But there was something unmistakably firm in his gaze.

“Hey,” Mingyu said calmly.

Hyunjin looked completely stunned before quickly bowing his head.

His eyes flicked from Mingyu’s arm around your waist, to the kiss he had just seen.

You could practically see the confusion spinning in his head.

Mingyu’s arm tightened slightly around you.

Your heart was pounding now.

Because this wasn’t subtle.

This wasn’t the careful distance you two normally kept in public spaces.

This was Mingyu claiming you.

And the warmth spreading through your chest made it impossible not to smile slightly.

Mingyu glanced down at you briefly, his thumb brushing softly against your side.

“You finished your stage already?” he asked gently.

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Did you eat yet?”

You shook your head.

“Not yet.”

“Then come with me later,” he said easily. “We’ll grab something after the show.”

Hyunjin across from you was still trying to process what he was seeing.

“…Wait,” he said slowly. “You two are—”

Mingyu looked back at him.

“Yeah,” Mingyu said simply.

Hyunjin blinked.

“…Oh.”

A long, awkward pause filled the hallway.

You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

Mingyu gave him a polite nod.

“Anyway,” he added casually, “we should head back. Our stage is soon.”

Then he gently guided you with him, turning the two of you down the hallway toward his dressing room.

Your manager hurried after you both.

The moment you turned the corner out of sight, you looked up at him.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” you teased quietly.

Mingyu looked down at you.

And finally—finally—his composed expression cracked into a slightly smug smile.

“He was standing too close to you.”

Your lips curved. “So the kiss?”

Mingyu shrugged lightly.

“Seemed necessary.”

You laughed softly.