The Platonic Collection (ksj)

the platonic collection (ksj)

A collection of one shots and drabbles about two idiot best friends turned fwbs turned lovers

pairing- bff!seokjin x reader

rating- R

genre- collegeau, bffs2fwb2l, smutt, fluff, a little angst

a.n- Well, well, well… what started as a one shot has somehow grown into this. lol i don’t know how often i’ll be updating this but this is going to somewhat out of order snippets of these two’s relationship and i hope you grow to love them as much as i do!

A big thank you to @bangtanhome for the banner! 💕💕

Got questions about the series, or want to be on the taglist? Send me an ask! 💕

this list is complied in chronological order of events. each part can be read as a one-shot.

platonically invincible (fluff) (newest! 👀)

After your breakup you confide in Seokjin.

platonically horny (fluff, smut)

Who knew doing a simple online quiz with your best friend would lead to the best sex of your life?

platonically caught (fluff, smut)

Jimin’s hay maze was not designed for this purpose, but who’s really going to stop you and Seokjin?

platonically fighting (fluff, angst)

What happens when the best friends who always get along get into their first fight?

platonically jealous (fluff, angst, smut)

Who knew teasing Seokjin at the club would lead to such a fun punishment?

platonic (fluff, smut) [the one that started it all! 🥰]

Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

platonically chasing (smut, fluff) 

Who knew exploring a new kink could get so messy?

platonically cuddling (fluff)

All Seokjin wants after a long day is your ‘anime titties’.

platonically in love (fluff)

“We can’t be platonically in love…”

All Wound Up (Harder) | KSJ, PJM

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader x Jimin

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plots, strangers to lovers, Rock Star!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, oral (m + f receiving), facefucking, fingering, masturbation (m), handjobs, multiple cumshots, teasing, orgasm denial/edging, nipple tweaking, pinching, light spanking, thigh slapping, finger sucking, threesome, rough sex, spitroasting, squirting, Jimin's tongue, yes that needs its own warning, brat tamer Jin agenda, Fire Jin and Mic Drop Jimin are the visuals but with a lot more sweat and body chains, prodigious use of the words "brat" "sir" and "good girl" so don't say I didn't warn you, pure sunshine Hoseok agenda

Word Count: 11K

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: It's Jin and Jimin's turn for their body chain fittings. Will you finish the job and go home, or will this turn into another unforgettable night?

A/N: It's finally here! The sequel to All Wound Up (Tighter), which was inspired by the body harnesses worn by the vocal line at Permission to Dance On Stage. This can be read as a standalone fic if you haven't read the first one!

This is basically PWP again, so please be advised that reality truly doesn't factor in here. In the real world, there would probably be more of a discussion about kinks and limits, but is just a story of filthy strangers about to get it on. It's one hundred percent pure indulgence. Please enjoy. 😈

(Also this is my first attempt at writing brat taming, so... please be kind! 🥺)

Unbeta'd as usual. Let me know what you think - my inbox is open!💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Join my permanent taglist

“Sugar! What a delightful surprise. Aren’t you supposed to be at your fitting with Jin and Jimin?”

“I sure am. So would you care to tell me why I’m at their hotel suite right now and they are not?” You sigh into your phone, listening as your business partner taps away on his laptop.

“Um, I’m not sure. My last email exchange with Yoongi says they’d be ready for you at four. Let me call him real quick and see what’s going on, okay?” Hoseok offers.

“Okay.” Hanging up, you slide down the wall to sit against the door, glancing at your watch with a frown.

As the owner of a successful body accessories shop, Dark & Wild, you really don’t have time to spare. Your jewelry is in high demand, especially after two of the members of the band Dead Leaves wore your body chains during the first leg of their sold out world tour. 

You painstakingly craft every piece yourself. As your company’s popularity grows, so does your need to be back in your workshop, not sitting in the hallway of the ritzy Black Swan hotel, waiting for the other half of the band to show up for a fitting for their own custom harnesses.

Your phone buzzes. “Got some bad news, sugar,” Hoseok softly coos, obviously trying to cushion whatever blow he’s about to deliver. “It looks like Yoongi got the dates mixed up. He thought the fitting was tomorrow. The band’s still at rehearsal right now.”

“Well, that’s just fucking great. I’ve wasted my time getting here today, and I can’t be here tomorrow because I have that out-of-town meeting with my silver guy, remember?” 

“I do remember, since I’m the one who scheduled it. But it’s okay - I have some good news, too.”

You lean your head against the door. “Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?”

Hoseok laughs, the sunny sound filling the hallway. “Sorry, I figured it was better to start with the bad. Anyway, Yoongi is sending someone over to pick you up and take you to the concert venue. He said you’re welcome to hang out until rehearsal ends - should only be another hour or so - or you can hang out in the artist’s lounge backstage. You can do the fitting there when they’re done.”

“Sure, whatever,” you reply, grabbing the handle of your suitcase, which holds the custom pieces. “Tell Yoongi I’m charging him for the time I have to sit here waiting.”

“I’ll pass along the message,” Hoseok promises, hanging up as you drag your suitcase back to the lobby.

Yoongi apparently took your billing threat seriously, because only a few minutes later, you spot a tall slab of beefcake bounding towards you. His tight black “Security” shirt looks like it’s two seconds from ripping at the seams as he smiles at you, dimples popping out.

He calls out your name as a question and you nod. “Yoongi-ssi sends his apologies,” the tall man says. “I’m Namjoon. I’ll be your ride to Heaven.” 

“I bet,” you mutter under your breath, following him out to where an idling black SUV waits.

Dead Leaves typically sell out giant coliseums and stadiums, but for this tour, they’re going back to their roots and only playing in intimate venues. The show they’re rehearsing for today is at Stairway to Heaven, the iconic dive bar slash rock’n’roll club where all the greats who have passed through your city have played over the years.

This is what Namjoon informs you as you sit quietly in the passenger’s seat, resting your head against the window. You didn’t ask and you don’t care, but he’s more than happy to fill you in anyway. You get the feeling he doesn’t get to do a lot of talking in his line of work, eyeing the scrapes on his knuckles and the swell of his biceps. 

The band is on stage when you arrive at the club. Namjoon leads you to the balcony, which is really just a metal catwalk ringing the main floor. “You can hang out here,” he shouts over the music. “Or if you want to wait in the green room, it’s downstairs. Just take a left at the bottom of the stairs and follow the signs.”

You shoot him a thumbs up and he disappears. 

As the band strikes up another emo pop punk power ballad, your eye is drawn to familiar faces. The bass player, a dark-haired Adonis with a sprawling tattoo of branches and flowers trailing down his shirtless torso. Taehyung. And behind the drum kit, sporting purple hair now instead of pretty mint, tongue flicking out to lick at his lip ring as he pounds away, is Jungkook. The two men who’d worn your body chains. 

Visions of their fitting flash before your eyes. Memories of two pairs of hands. Two mouths. Two incredibly sexy men, making you cum harder than you’d ever cum in your life.

You turn away, not even bothering to look at the other two band members. What happened last time was a one-time thing. A total fluke. This time, you’re going to keep it professional. Do the fitting, make any necessary alterations, and get the fuck out.

Right? Right.

Turns out Dead Leaves’s music is actually really catchy. But you decide to go wait in the green room anyway. Hopefully, the band will finish shortly and you can get the fitting done and be back on your way to your studio before your entire day is shot. 

Forty-five minutes later, you’re still waiting. You’re also pretty tipsy. 

All desire to maintain your professionalism goes straight out the window when you spot the impressive tequila collection in the bar at the back of the artist lounge, a literally green room with bright lime velvet curtains hanging from the walls. Plush leather couches line one side, makeup mirrors and vanities the other. It’s fairly swank for such an old rattrap of a club. Even the private bathroom is nice, with a surprisingly large glass double shower stall for the band to use.

Typically, you wouldn’t drink on the job, but the longer you wait, the longer you feel like you deserve a little treat. You pour yourself one shot, and it goes down smooth like butter, so you pour a second. Then you decide to put on some music while you wait, playing with the ancient jukebox in the corner of the room.

It’s as you’re taking the third shot, tipping your head back while you dance around the lounge, that the door opens and two angels walk in.

These heavenly blond men, one tall and broad shouldered, the other shorter and slender, gaze at you in surprise with wide innocent eyes, obviously not expecting to find you tipsy and grinding it out to “How Do You Want It?” like the rent is due tomorrow.

Slamming the empty shot glass on the bar, you wipe your mouth delicately as you grin. “Hi. I got bored.”

“Hi,” the tall one says. “I’m Jin.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jimin.” The shorter one flashes a cherubic smile. “Sorry about the wait.”

As they approach, you are struck by two thoughts: fuck, they’re hot, and fuck, they’re sweaty.

Jin peels off a black duster-length leather coat, revealing a white button-up that is totally drenched with sweat. Meanwhile, Jimin’s black t-shirt is sticking to him, outlining every muscle underneath. His plaid pants cling to obscenely thick thighs.

And you’re here to do a fitting. To put your hands all over those bodies.

Which has you wondering… where are the other two? Not that you need them here or anything. Just curious. 

Jimin notices you eyeing the door. “Taehyung and Jungkook needed to get back to the hotel,” he says, sliding behind the bar. “They said hi, by the way.” He knocks back a shot of tequila and grins, eyes squeezing into tiny crescents.

“Yeah,” Jin leans against the bar beside you, a similarly bright smile on his face. “I think they wanted to come say hello in person, but they’re doing an interview.” He downs the shot Jimin hands him as you wave away his offer to refill your glass.

“Oh. Cool.” Two fewer distractions to deal with. Definitely for the best. At least these two don’t throw off any sinful tempter vibes like the other two did. Jimin and Jin have such a sweet energy. Maybe you can knock this fitting out fast enough to get a ride home from Namjoon before your buzz wears off. Then maybe you can ride Namjoon at home. 

No more tequila for you.

“So, where do you want us?” Jin asks.

Déjà vu. 

You tilt your head slightly, wishing you hadn’t had that third shot. Then you glance at both men’s damp shirts again. “Do you, uh, need a minute to clean up or shower or whatever? Like, don’t let me stop you. You look like you’ve been rehearsing hard. ”

Jimin laughs. “Is that your polite way of saying we look disgusting?” he inquires, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“No, no!” You wave your hands. “I just thought you might want to make yourselves more comfortable. I’m clearly interrupting your usual post-rehearsal routine.”

“Oh no, please, we’re the ones inconveniencing you!” Jin claims, eyes widening again. The silver chains dangling from his ears bounce as he shakes his head. “Yoongi-ah told us how busy you are. He feels really terrible about the mix-up and told us to make sure we took care of you.”

“Yeah, so if you don’t mind that we’re a little sweaty, we can go ahead and start. We don’t want to make you wait any longer,” Jimin finishes.

It’s obviously going to be a standoff between who can be the most accommodating, so you decide to cave. 

“I don’t mind if you don’t mind,” you declare, and grasp the handle on your case. “We can just use the mirrors here. Who wants to go first?”

“Go ahead, hyung,” Jimin says, tipping more tequila into his mouth. 

Popping your case open, you retrieve Jin’s harness as you wait for him to remove his shirt. He makes no such movement. After a few seconds, you clear your throat. “Uh. You gonna take that off, or…?”

Jin blinks. “Do you need me to?”

“Well, I thought… I mean, Taehyung and Jungkook said…” The other two told you they perform shirtless, so you just assumed the whole band did. You’re not really sure why you made that leap. “They don’t wear shirts on stage.”

“Ah. Right. Well, I do.”

“Yeah, hyung’s not a show-off like our maknaes,” Jimin chimes in, propping his chin in his hand on the bar. “Or me. He’s got class.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jin winks. 

“The harness is designed to be worn over clothing as well, so it doesn’t matter, anyway.” You lift the chain and nod for him to step forward.

Jin stoops slightly so you can drape the chain over his neck. You slowly circle him, smoothing out the harness over the sodden wrinkles of his starch-white shirt. Patches of the material are so soaked that they’re see-through, giving you a glimpse of sun-kissed skin beneath. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, glancing at himself in one of the makeup mirrors on the wall as you step back. “Maybe it would be better without a shirt.” His fingers make quick work of his buttons and he starts to slip the top off. 

With a sigh, you help him remove the shirt without getting tangled up in his chain. His skin is so slick beneath your hands. Normally, you’d wrinkle your nose in disgust at a stranger’s sweat underneath your fingertips, but the shots have dulled your reactions a little so you don’t mind. It helps that he smells like tequila and strawberries mixed with his natural muskiness. It’s a heady concoction.

Or maybe that’s the liquor. 

Either way, it takes you a moment to realize he asked you something. 

“Sorry, what?” You meet his gaze in the mirror. He smirks for a second before he repeats himself. 

“I said, I think I like this better. What’s your professional opinion?”

Your professional opinion? The harness perfectly accents his sculpted body. 

No wonder the man prefers to keep his shirt on when he’s on stage. It’s bad enough he walks around with that handsome face. He’d probably start a riot if he walked around topless, too. His skin shimmers with his exertion, sweat clinging to his arms and pecs, and he seems even broader now without any clothing hiding his frame. The chain draws your eye down his back, from his wide shoulders to his rather tapered waist. He’s got those upside-down triangle proportions. A perfect Dorito.

Your unprofessional opinion? He’s hot as fuck and the chain would give you something to hold on to while you ride him into the sunrise.

Maybe you should drink some water.

The design Jin requested doesn’t appear at first to be as flashy as the others. It’s a simple chain, one loop around his neck, one strand running down his front, one down his back, ending in flares over his hips. But when he shifts, the metal catches the light, revealing tiny droplets of moissanite woven into the strands. The sparkling effect makes him even more dazzling. Especially when he unleashes that brilliant smile, warm chestnut eyes shimmering as he waits for your answer.

“I think it works.” 

Jimin joins his bandmate by the mirror. “Damn, hyung, you should definitely wear this and nothing but this on stage tomorrow night. Everyone will lose their minds.” His fingers ghost down the chain hanging on Jin’s back. “Okay, can I put mine on now?” Jimin turns to you excitedly. 

“Hold on a sec. Do you like the way it hangs, Jin? Is the length ok? The tightness?” You return to his side. “If you need any alterations, I can make those tonight and have this ready for you to wear tomorrow. If that’s what you want.” 

Jin appraises himself in the mirror. “I don’t think it needs anything. You're really talented, you know that?”

“I do. But it never hurts to hear it,” you grin. “If you don’t need anything changed, then it’s all yours.” 

Jimin claps. “Now do me!” 

The eternal 13-year-old in your head snickers at his words as you delicately remove Jimin’s harness from your case. Jimin yanks his shirt over his head and once again you’re greeted by the sight of bronzed skin coated in a glossy sheen of sweat. He’s lithe, more of a dancer’s build than rippling muscles, and like his absent bandmates, he has some ink, the word “Nevermind” scrawled along his ribcage while an ornately-written “Youth” hides behind one of his ears. On the back of his neck is a sliver of a moon. 

As he lowers his head, you arrange the chain around him, fingers flying to work any kinks away. Jimin’s chain has the longest neck piece, the v dipping all the way down to his navel. His links are larger than the others, more ornate, and hanging on such a gorgeous man, the effect is rather regal. 

As you finish uncoiling the flares over his hips, you brush your fingers over the tattoo on his side. “Nirvana?”

He shakes his head. “Everyone always guesses that.” 

“It’s a secret. He won’t even tell us,” Jin pipes up from one of the couches. He’s still wearing his chain, absentmindedly twining it around his hand, looking every inch the sweaty rock god he is.

“You guys already know too much about me. Gotta keep some mystery in our relationship,” Jimin grins cheekily, tugging on one of silver hoops hanging from his ear.

You simply hum, observing the harness closely, looking for any imperfections. Finding none.

You’re definitely not also examining the incredible body underneath. This entire band is nothing but ridiculously hunky men, huh? 

“So what’s the verdict?” you ask, extending a hand to straighten a few links. Your fingers once again skim over the smooth skin of his shoulder blade, perhaps lingering a second or two longer than necessary. 

Jimin’s expression changes as he assesses his reflection. He looks almost stern now, blond hair flopping over his furrowed brow, critically scrutinizing his appearance. Evaluating your work. 

“I love it,” he finally announces, a beatific smile lighting up his face. “It’s perfect as is.” 

“Fantastic.” Well, that was fucking easy. You glance at your watch. There’s still enough time for you to get back to your studio and get some work done without having it bleed into your night. Although, maybe you should wait to sober up a little more before you handle any machinery or tools. You’re still pondering this as Jin stands.

“Question - can we get these wet?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t, like, wear them swimming every day or anything, but they’ll be fine.” You eye the chain dangling from his chest. “Why, are you worried about all that sweat tarnishing them?”

Jin laughs, a goofy squeaking honk that has you giggling despite yourself. You’re a lot of things, but a giggler’s not one of them. “No, but should I be? That’s the second time you’ve pointed out how gross we are after rehearsing.” 

“Ah, that’s not… actually, no, you’re right, the two of you are pretty nasty right now,” you reply with a teasing grin, zipping up your case.

“Hey!” Jimin protests, plump lips forming a pout. “We’re not that bad. You should see us after a concert.” 

“Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when you had your hands all over me earlier,” Jin adds, wiggling his eyebrows faux seductively. 

“Excuse me? I didn’t have my hands ‘all over you,’ I was helping you adjust the harness!” you correct him with an indignant snort. “Believe me, if I had, we wouldn’t be having this discussion right now.” 

Well, that’s not quite what you meant to say. And now you can’t stop imagining running your hands all over his slick skin, caressing the areas you didn’t get to touch earlier, like the ridges of his abs… damn it, you need to focus right now! You’re so close to being done here, so why are you trying to drag things out? Just wrap it up so you can leave!

Jin loses his silly expression, eyebrow lifting in sincere curiosity now. “And why is that?”

For the briefest of moments, you consider laughing and changing the subject, but something about the look in his eye awakens your more playful side. There’s no harm in indulging in some flirtation, right? It’s been a long week. Might as well enjoy yourself a little.

It’s not like this fitting is going to end like the last one. You’re almost out the door now. Pretty much.

“I mean, you’ve seen my handiwork,” you purr, reaching out to stroke the strand of metal hanging from his neck, sliding your fingers along the links. ”Do you really think if I got my talented hands all over you, you’d still be able to speak right now?”

Maybe you laid it on a little thick. You’ve never seen a man’s iris visibly darken like that before. Jin’s eyebrow rises again as the corner of his mouth lifts. “I stand corrected.” 

“Mmmhmm. That’s what I thought.” Pulling the handle on your case, you look at the door. “So, do I just talk to Namjoon about getting a ride home, or….”

“Ah, Namjoon-ah is already gone. He took Tae and Kook to the hotel,” Jin explains.

“Oh.” Damn. There goes your trip to heaven. “Well, okay, can someone else here give me a ride home?” 

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Jimin says. “Are you in a hurry to leave?” 

“Kinda. I have a lot of work waiting for me.” 

“Wait, are we done with the fitting?” Jin interjects. 

“Uh, yes? I mean, you both said you were happy with your chains as is, right? No alterations needed?” 

“Sure, but what about testing the quality of the chains?” 

The blank look you shoot him prompts Jin to continue.  

“You know, you say the harnesses are safe in water, but then tomorrow night we get on stage, and we splash some water bottles around, and next thing you know, these chains are all rusty.” He pauses, tipping his head towards his bandmate. “Jimin, don’t you think we should get a little demonstration? Make sure the chains can hold up to some serious wetness?”

Jimin glances at his hyung, and though you can’t quite interpret the look that passes between them, given the glimmer in Jimin’s deep brown orbs, you’re fairly certain you get the gist. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jimin nods, sly smile creeping across his face. “Yoongi’d never let us hear the end of it if we spent all this money on this jewelry only to have it corrode on us. And the last thing we need is an annoyed Yoongi-hyung.” 

“You wouldn’t want to leave us disappointed, would you?” Jin takes a step closer, his long fingers tangling in his chain as he peers at you. 

You glance from man to man. Both are waiting for your answer.

The pile of work waiting back in your studio is practically screaming your name at this point. So why are you still standing here, contemplating your next move? 

You know exactly why. You can’t stop thinking about the last fitting. That session ended the way it did because those two made you a very enticing offer. These two haven’t done any such thing yet, but they’re clearly dragging things out–they can’t possibly be serious about testing the “quality” of the chains, can they? They obviously want you to stay a little longer.

So what do you want? 

“Okay, so what, you need a demonstration or something?”

Both men nod. 

“Well, I suppose I could show you…” you spin around the room before pointing to the private bathroom. “In there?” 

The three of you crowd around the pedestal sink. Another playful urge comes over you. With a twist of the tap, you grab a handful of water and fling it at Jin, purposefully missing the chain dangling from his chest and hitting his face instead. He yelps in surprise. 

“Hey!” 

You and Jimin laugh as he sputters. 

“See? It holds up fine.” You gesture to the metal. 

“Uh, it barely got wet,” Jimin points out. 

“Yeah, you only hit my face!” Jin glares.

Sighing, you nod. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” You cup your hand and immediately toss more water at Jin’s handsome face. Jimin’s cackles grow louder as Jin grabs a hand towel, dabbing his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry, my aim is so bad today!” You reach for the tap and Jin suddenly grabs your forearm with his hand. “Hey!” 

A nasty artillery of curse words start to launch themselves from your lips, but the hard look he gives you makes you fall silent. “Don’t you even think about throwing one more handful,” he drawls slowly, speaking calmly, as his thumb softly caresses the inside of your wrist, back and forth. 

A shiver runs through you at the timbre of his voice.

“Okay. I won’t throw one,” you promise, all sweetness and light as you smile at him. 

As soon as he releases you, you scoop up water with both hands. 

It splashes everywhere, hitting Jin’s face, neck, chest, even you and Jimin get sprayed. The shorter man doubles over in laughter as Jin sputters in shock. As he dries his face again, Jin’s eyes sweep over you from head to toe, carefully assessing you. Another tingle races down your spine.

Then he draws himself up to his full height and your mirth evaporates completely. He pushes his dripping hair back from his face as he glowers, tongue poking his cheek, full lips pursed. The heat from his gaze ironically freezes you, and you go completely still as he curls his long fingers around both of your wrists. With a sharp yank, he pulls you to him, and you gasp. He holds you with a firm grip, not tight enough that you couldn’t break away. This close, you can feel the heat of his body. 

“Brat,” he rasps, the tone of his voice much lower than before. “That was very rude. I distinctly told you not to do that.” His gaze is unfathomably dark, sending a jolt of excitement shooting through you, right to your core. Fuck, that look just makes you want to piss him off more.

“No, you told me not to throw one handful. I didn’t. I threw two.” You lift your chin defiantly, a proud smirk on your lips. 

Jin’s eyes narrow. “Jimin,” he says, craning his head to look around you. “Did you hear that?”

Holy fuck, while reveling in Jin’s smoldering gaze, you nearly forgot about the other man, who is silently observing the two of you. Just watching. 

More déjà vu. 

“Mmmhmm. She’s got a real smart mouth, hyung.” Jimin’s hands dance over your shoulders as he comes up behind you. The rings on his fingers press lightly into your bare arms, and as he steps closer, you find yourself trapped between the bandmates. 

“If you think this is me being a smartass, you-” 

Jin grabs your chin, cutting off your retort. “He wasn’t talking to you, brat.” His eyes flash. 

Well. This is not a situation you typically find yourself in. Not just the physical, standing between two insanely gorgeous men, but letting anyone talk to you this way. You have a reputation for being a ballbuster for several reasons. You have literally kicked multiple people in the balls over the years for saying less to you. 

But right now you don’t want to do or say a thing to break the delicious tension in the room. Wherever this is going, you are in. 

“Bold little brat, coming in here, drinking all our tequila, calling us gross, disobeying our requests and now talking back?” Jin tsks, skimming his hand down your neck. Despite his rough tone, his touch is gentle, and you practically burn for more. “What should we do about that?”

Jimin sniffs. “What we always do, hyung. Teach them a lesson.” 

Well, fuck. You’re suddenly glad you didn’t leave earlier. Work has been so much lately - busy is good, but busy is stressful - and you’re in dire need of a release. The pile of unfinished projects back at your studio will have to wait. You need to know what these two have in mind. 

Jin nods in agreement with his bandmate. “Any suggestions?”

“I have a few,” you hum, knowing full well that he wasn’t talking to you. Jin’s eyebrows rise. He leans so close, you can feel his breath on your lips.

“Did I address you, brat? Say your name, hmm?” 

“No.” 

“No…?”

Oh, fuck, we’ve got ourselves a sir. This isn’t usually your thing, but… what the hell. You can play along.

“No, sir,” you intone politely, licking your lips.

Jin huffs in amusement. “Well, look at that, it’s not just her mouth that’s smart. She knows exactly what to say now, huh?” His head tips to the side again, that appraising look wandering over your frame, lingering on your chest, your hips. “Good girl. Keep it up.” 

“That’s what we like to hear,” Jimin adds, hands massaging your shoulders. His fingers are rough, unsurprising for a guitarist, and as they dig into the knots in your neck, a tiny moan slips past your lips. “Oh, she’s all wound up, hyung. Did that feel good?” His voice is a whisper in your ear, breath a ghost on your skin. 

“Yes,” you groan, and the fingers stop. Shit. “Yes, sir.” 

Jimin chuckles as Jin tugs you against his chest again, snapping your attention back to him. “So… are you ready to learn?”

It’s a simple question. You know what he’s really asking. This is it - last exit. Last chance to bow out. Because you’re pretty sure once you answer, there’s no going back. 

Fuck it. You’re in. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Jin studies your face carefully, suddenly rather serious. “If anything gets too much for you, you stop us right away by saying a safe word. Can you think of a word you want to use?” 

Shit. How rough are these two about to get? You’re pretty much down for anything, but you’ve never had to use a safe word before. What are you supposed to pick - something memorable but unlikely to come up naturally, right? “Uh. Sure. How about… alpaca?” 

His lips twitch in mirth. “Alpaca? Okay. If you think you’ll remember that?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ll remember. Sir.” 

That sinful smile again. “Good girl. Then let’s see….” He glances around the small space. “I think you still owe us a proper demonstration. Don’t you think so, Jimin-ah?”

“Definitely, hyung.” Jimin wanders over to the glass shower stall. “I don’t think we can trust her with the sink, though. We better try it here. In case it gets messy.” 

“Oh, I know it’s going to get messy. But she’s not going to try another trick like that. Are you?” Jin asks, once more grasping your chin with his fingers. You gaze into his molten eyes as you attempt to shake your head, but his firm grip keeps it in place. “Use your words.” 

“No… sir.” It is not in your nature to address someone like this. You’re absolutely going to forget at some point and it’s absolutely going to get you into trouble, isn’t it? 

The thought sends a hot lick of desire swooping into your stomach. 

Jin releases you and takes a step back. He starts to peel his ridiculously tight jeans off as Jimin also strips down to his boxers. “Come on, brat. Take off those clothes. Don’t want them getting soaked, now do we?” 

Both men stare unabashedly at you as you slowly peel your tank top and jeans off, leaving your lacy black bra and matching panties on. Jimin whistles, and you preen. You’ve never been shy about your body, embracing every curve, and the looks of admiration on their faces bolster you even more. 

“Such pretty packaging,” Jimin murmurs as he pulls you into the shower with him and Jin. “Okay if I unwrap you?” 

You nod, and he just blinks patiently, waiting. “Oh! Yes, sir.” 

With a crooked grin, Jimin slides his hands around your waist and up your back. He’s moving painfully slowly for your taste, but you don’t protest, breath hitching as he tilts his face to yours. Gentle lips caress your own, and as you lean into his kiss, he unhooks your bra before pulling you closer. 

Another pair of hands land on your waist, lightly tugging your panties down. The sensation is so featherlight that it tickles, and you giggle into Jimin’s mouth before moaning as the fingers quickly slip between your legs, smearing through the slickness there with a much rougher touch.

“Hmmm, someone’s eager,” Jin whispers into your ear as he presses himself flat against your back, as much as he can with a massive erection poking into the swell of your ass. The silk of his boxers rubs against you as he continues. “You want me to keep going?” His fingers hover at your entrance.

“Please, sir,” you gasp, breaking away from Jimin’s plush lips long enough to answer. The shorter man’s own hardness pokes into your thigh as you push back against Jin, waiting for him to slide one of those long fingers inside you. 

Only to let out a wail of disappointment as he withdraws his hand from where you want it most and gives you a little slap on your ass. The sting makes you jump in shock.

“You really think you deserve that right now, brat?” Jin smacks your cheek again, and you whimper pathetically, surprising yourself. “We’d be pretty terrible at this if we rewarded you now, wouldn’t we?” 

A million retorts run through your mind but you choke them down. “Yes, sir.” 

Jimin smiles sweetly, his hand soothingly rubbing the spot where Jin’s smacks still twinge. “Don’t worry. Just do what we tell you and we’ll make sure you get what you want.” His smile becomes something darker, more devilish. “Eventually.” 

In tandem, Jimin and Jin drop their boxers. You attempt not to gawk as their cocks spring free. Jin’s is just as long as you’d expected given his height, but you’re shocked to discover how thick the shorter man’s is. Jimin catches you gaping and shoots you a wink. 

“Let’s get wet,” he trills playfully, and with a twist of the knob on the wall, water begins to pour from the double showerhead above. 

Both men run their hands through their hair as the water cascades over their naked bodies. Jimin brushes the damp strands out of his face before he grabs your hand and tugs you over, spinning you around so Jin can kiss you while his own hands roam over your backside. The elder’s tongue slips between your panting lips as Jimin squeezes your ass, his mouth suctioning to your neck. There is warm, slick skin all around you, pressing into every exposed inch of your front and back, and for a moment you lose yourself in the sensation, eyes closing in bliss. 

Jin pulls away, tipping his head back to let the shower run down his broad shoulders and over his chest. The chain glitters in the light reflecting off the drops of water that cling to it as he holds the metal out to inspect. “Looks like it’s holding up well.” 

“Well, duh, I told you it was water resistant! I mean, hello, I can tell you exactly what it’s made of. The metal is–” Your eyes go wide as one of Jimin’s hands snakes around and clamps your mouth shut, gently pinching your lips between his thumb and forefinger. “Mmmph!”

“Wow, you just can’t stop with the attitude, can you?” he tuts, other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you flush to him. “Hyung, what are we going to do with this mouth?”

“I think we need to keep it busy,” Jin replies, eyes glimmering. Something about the look in his eye has you clenching around nothing. “You know, I’m not sure this shower is really doing the trick. Maybe you should help us out, brat.” He laughs. “Since you so rudely told us we were disgusting earlier, I think you should be the one to clean us.”

Jimin releases your lips so you can answer. “You want me to… wash you?” Your fingers twitch at the thought of finally getting to roam over their taut bodies. Jin gives you a look. “Uh, sir?”

Jin nods, and Jimin’s arm drops to let you move. Okay. Not quite what you expected them to ask you to do, but fine. You don’t mind. But as you reach for the soap and washcloths tucked into a niche in the shower wall, Jin holds his arm out, blocking you.

“Uh-uh,” he clucks his tongue. “Not with those.”

Oh, of course. Honestly, how did you not see this coming? 

“Tongue only,” Jin commands, dragging his fingers along your jaw and tapping your lips with his crooked pointer. “Now get to work.”

Stepping under the stream of water raining down, you tentatively approach the taller blonde, unsure where exactly to start. He grins, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck, and you rise up on your tiptoes, sliding the tip of your tongue between your teeth to give an experimental lick. 

Fuck, he even tastes like strawberries. 

A contented hum rumbles through Jin’s chest as you run your tongue down his throat, gathering the sweat and salt hidden in the little notch between his collarbones. You reach out with both hands to touch him, but Jimin stops you, locking his fingers around your wrists.

“Oh no, none of that,” he sings over your shoulder, tugging on your forearms. You understand immediately what he wants, allowing him to bring your arms behind your back. “Keep these here,” he demands, his fingers lacing yours together. “Can’t have you using your hands. Or touching yourself. You gotta earn that. Do you understand?”

“Really? No hands?” darts past your lips before you can stop it. 

There’s a sharp pinch on your ass. You jump with a squeal. “Hey!”

Another pinch. This time, you bite your tongue, glaring over your shoulder at the pincher, who merely smiles behind you.

“When I tell you to answer me, I’m not asking for commentary,” Jimin states, clucking his tongue. “A simple ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir,’ will suffice. Got it?”

“Yes. Sir.” Goddamn it, how do people remember to keep using that word? And can you really keep quiet like they want you to? This stuff doesn’t come naturally to you, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to stop, especially now, as you tip your chin up again to return to your task. 

Without your hands to keep you steady, you’re a little awkward as you keep moving down, flicking your tongue over one of his dusky brown nipples, then the other. Water trickles into your lips, mingling with the tang of his sweat. Jin doesn’t seem to mind that you keep bumping your nose against him. He sighs happily while you lave over his torso, kissing and licking the whole way as you sink to your knees.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as you settle yourself between his legs. Another wave of arousal rolls through your belly. You actually like it when he calls you that. Surprising. The phrase always struck you as condescending, but from Jin’s luscious lips, it sounds like the highest praise. “Now let’s keep that mouth busy, okay?” His hand pumps his cock lazily a few times, and you sit back on your heels, just waiting. “Come here, brat. Come get a taste.” 

Jin’s wide shoulders block most of the water from the shower from hitting you as you rise up on your knees and lean towards the anaconda in his hand. There’s absolutely no way you’re getting that whole thing in your mouth without gagging, even for someone without much of a gag reflex. But you’ll sure as hell try anyway. 

“Better open wide,” Jimin advises, standing next to Jin under the other showerhead. He slowly strokes his cock, gaze fixed on your mouth. “Stick out that sharp tongue, baby, and let us see what else it’s good for, besides talking back.” 

Letting your jaw drop, you scoot forward as Jin lays the head of his cock on your tongue. You swirl around him, wetting the tip before you suck it into your mouth. “That’s it,” Jin groans, as his head rolls back. His eyes close for a second, but then he reopens them, not wanting to look away as you take more of him in. “Show me what this mouth was made for.” 

You merely hum in assent, focusing on keeping your jaw relaxed and your throat open as Jin plunges in languidly, reveling in the delicious wet heat of your mouth. It’s weird doing this without your hands to balance yourself. And you want to touch him, stroke the length that isn’t in your mouth yet, make sure he’s enjoying everything you can give him, but you remember Jimin’s instructions and keep your hands behind your back, tightly clutching.

One of Jin’s large hands cups the back of your head as he continues to slide more of himself into your waiting lips. “Ready to take more?” He starts to thrust a little faster. “Like this? Can you take it, brat?” 

“Mmmm,” you gurgle, saliva flooding your mouth, and you swallow around him. He moans and picks up his pace. His hand presses your head forward, and you don’t resist, letting him guide you as wants. 

“Go on, hyung, she can handle it.” Jimin’s own tongue snakes out of his mouth to lick at the corner of his lips as he grips his erection, jerking faster. “Look at her. She’s ready. Fuck that sass right out of that mouth.” 

“Fuck, yeah, she’s ready, aren’t you, brat?” Jin smirks down at you. “Gonna fuck your mouth now. Take it like a good girl.” 

Just like in business, when it comes to your sex life, you’re usually the one in control. It’s just how you’ve always been - no matter if it was a long-term relationship or a one night stand, you’ve always been the one calling the shots. To be like this now, on your knees, hands locked behind you, letting this man use your face as a fuck toy… well, it’s new. Even the previous fitting wasn’t like this. 

You’re fucking loving it. 

His hard cock plunges faster into your mouth, and you gaze up at him with wide eyes, trying to impress upon him just how much you want to stay his good girl. The tiles under your knees are hard and cold, but you don’t give a fuck, intent only on getting Jin off and proving you deserve a reward. All you want right now is to make him fall apart on your tongue.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you gag, drool spilling over your lips only to be washed away by the water flowing from the showerheads. Jin fucks your face, his fingers gripping your head, making you bob on him. It’s not just saliva that drips down your body. Your arousal is coating your thighs at this point, and you clench them together tightly, wishing desperately for some friction. 

Jin’s head lolls back again, lost in ecstasy as he thrusts into your throat. With his eyes closed, Jimin appears to also be adrift in rapture, furiously stroking himself to the sounds of your gagging mingling with the moans that slip from Jin’s plump lips. 

Keeping your left hand behind your back, you carefully slide your right hand between your legs and press on your throbbing clit. A low hum bubbles up from your chest, the relief immediate and overwhelming. Jin hisses at the vibrations. “Fuck, brat, that’s it. Just like that.” 

You nearly slip a finger inside yourself, dying to feel something filling your throbbing cunt, but quickly lock your hands behind your back again before either man catches you.

Jin suddenly withdraws from your mouth completely. Shit. Did he see you touch yourself?

“Why?” you whine frustratedly.

Jin laughs, wrapping his fingers around his darkened head. “Poor thing’s cockhungry now, huh? It’s okay, brat, it’s just Jimin’s turn.” 

The other man bites his lush bottom lip as he watches you open your mouth with an expectant look. Huffing a laugh, he taps his cock on your waiting tongue. “Is that as wide as you can go?” 

With an annoyed glare, you open as wide as you possibly can, and his head finally passes through your lips. Jimin doesn’t take his time building up his pace like Jin did. Instead, the younger man immediately begins to thrust as quickly as you can take him, lips stretching around his girth as he ruts away. 

Whereas Jin tasted like strawberries, tart but sweet, Jimin is all salt, a slight tang that you still savor as you work your tongue along the bottom of his thick cock. His scent hits your nose as it bounces off his pelvis, filling your senses with nothing but him, driving all other thoughts out of your head.

“Ahh, shit, that’s a good little mouth,” he hisses as you repeat your actions, sucking and swallowing around him like you did to Jin, who is still gripping himself tightly as he watches. Your eyes bounce from man to man, drinking in their expressions. Jin’s gaze is sharp, focused, while Jimin’s eyelashes flutter against his round cheeks as he moans, running a hand down the chain hanging over his chest. “Fuck, baby, you can use your hands now.”

As soon as you hear the command, you ignore the unceasing need between your legs and reach out and grab Jin’s cock in one hand and Jimin’s in the other. Both men groan harmoniously, and you speed up your pumping, spurred on by the way their noises grow louder, more agitated. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Jin pants. “Gonna paint you, brat.”

“Oh, fuck, me too, here it comes,” Jimin gasps. 

“Mmmph,” you moan, and Jin’s first spurt hits you in the chin, white dripping down your neck as Jimin’s hips stutter and he cums down your throat. He pulls out as you sputter and choke, but you don’t let a single drop spill, swallowing it all down.

Jimin grabs your hand and helps you to your feet. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” As he draws you in for another kiss, you feel the ticklish scrub of a cloth on your back, and realize that Jin is gently washing your sweaty, cum-splashed skin. 

After you’re clean, the two men quickly suds themselves down. You spin between them as they lather, trading open-mouthed kisses. Their quick touches are only making your need even stronger, something that both men seem quite aware of as you whimper pitifully under their caresses. 

“Poor baby’s still wound up, huh?” Jimin mutters into your neck, where he is busy leaving a love bite.

“Please,” you moan, puffing out your bottom lip. “I did what you told me to do!” You run your hands over Jimin’s chest, twirling his chain around your fingers. “Didn’t I do a good job? You both seemed to like it.” You flutter your eyelashes, laying it on real thick, and Jimin laughs.

“What do you think, hyung?” Jimin asks, shutting off the shower and reaching for the pile of towels outside the stall, handing you both one. “Does she deserve a reward now?”

“Mmmm, I don’t know,” Jin muses as he dries off. You toss your towel on the floor like the other two do and then follow them out of the bathroom and back into the dressing room. “I guess she was pretty good.” He takes a seat on a couch and stares at you with narrowed eyes. “Maybe a small treat?”

Jimin strolls over to the bar, pouring himself another shot. “Tell us what you want, brat.” 

There’s only one thing you want right now. “I wanna cum. Please, sir,” you add as an afterthought. 

“Do you think you deserve that?” Jin’s gaze feels like it burns through you as you nod vigorously. Absolutely you deserve it. Even if you broke their rule and touched yourself a little. They didn’t see you and you’re not about to say anything to prevent you from getting off right now. 

“Yes. Please, sir.” You clasp your hands in front of you, peering at him with wide, innocent eyes. Somehow you assume that begging might help. “I’ll keep being a good girl, I promise. Please let me cum.” 

“Hmmm.” Jin leans forward, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks at Jimin. “I guess there’s no reason to deny such a sweet request….” The two men exchange a long glance before Jin nods. 

“Alright. How do you want it, baby?” 

“Yeah, what do you like? We’ll do whatever you want,” Jimin promises with an impish grin, sticking out his tongue. The long pink muscle reaches past his chin as he flicks the tip at you, and you don’t need to think for a second longer about what you’d like. 

“Fuck, I want that,” you proclaim, pointing at him. “I wanna get off on your tongue.” 

Jimin groans, one hand wrapping around your waist to pull you into a sloppy kiss. “Brat wants my tongue? Brat can have it.” He pushes you towards Jin, who reaches out to help you sit between his legs. 

“Hands up here,” Jin orders you, lifting your arms and placing your hands on your head. “Only we can touch you. Got it?”

God, you hope that means they’re going to put their hands all over you. You’re ready to pop.

You lace your fingers together. “Yes sir.” 

Jin’s large hands grip your thighs, spreading you for the other man to see. You’re completely exposed now, unable to hide any part of you, cunt bared and waiting. 

Jimin drops to his knees. The thrumming desire that’s been building since you first deepthroated Jin is nearly unbearable at this point, and you squirm slightly against him as you watch Jimin eye you hungrily. After what feels like an eternity, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your dripping slit. He sucks slightly, lapping up your arousal, and you relax into Jin’s embrace as you sigh loudly. 

“Is that what you needed?” Jin whispers in your ear. His mouth dances down your neck as Jimin finally extends his tongue and licks along your opening before plunging the wet muscle inside. 

Your desire has driven you beyond words, so you can only moan and whimper as Jimin eats you out. Between his strong tongue and his plump lips, you’re in heaven, wriggling against Jin as Jimin suckles on your clit. As you shift, Jin’s chain bites into your skin, leaving tiny impressions of the metal up and down your back. Marking you up.

“Mmm, for such a bad girl, you do taste so sweet.” Jimin runs his tongue along the inside of your thigh, swirling through the wetness clinging there before sucking a hickey into the tender skin, and you mewl, desperately lifting your hips to urge him back to where you need him most. 

Jin’s hands glide up your stomach to play with your breasts, kneading the firm mounds between his lithe fingers. He pinches your nipples, making you gasp. “You like that?” He does it again, and you feel him hardening against your lower back, letting you know that he’s enjoying it as much as you are. 

“Y-yes,” you stutter, dropping your head against his shoulder, eyes closing. Jin removes his hands. “Yes, sir!” you quickly correct yourself, and he rewards you with another sharp tweak. “Fuck!” His teeth nip at your ear. 

Your thighs twitch from the pleasure and pain, and Jimin holds one of your legs down to keep you from closing around his head. 

“Getting close, brat?” he asks, breathing into your core as he nuzzles your clit. 

“God, yes, sir!” You glance down and shudder helplessly at the sight of him, mouth and chin coated in your juices, sinful eyes observing your every move. His lips curl when he sees you watching him.

“Let me get you there, baby,” he rasps, and he sinks a finger into you. Then another.

“Shit!” His mouth, Jin’s mouth, their hands. It’s all too much, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over you. “I’m gonna, oh fuck, I’m gonna-”

Everything stops. Hands fall away. Mouths unlatch. Jimin sits back on his heels.

“Whaaa?” you cry, springing upright as your impending orgasm suddenly vanishes. “Why? I didn’t do anything, my hands are still up here!” You wave them in the air.

Jin’s laughter shakes your body. “Did you really think we didn’t see you in the shower, brat?” You twist to peer at him as he cackles. 

Goddamn it. You thought you’d been so sneaky. Clearly not. 

“We gave you one simple instruction and again you couldn’t follow it! You touched yourself, and then you expected us to reward you? For disobeying?”

You’re so frustrated, you could scream. Instead, you start to whine. 

“I-it was just a little touch!” you protest petulantly. “I didn’t even get off! Barely an-ah!” 

With a yelp, you rub the spot on your inner thigh where Jimin just slapped you. It doesn’t hurt as much as it shocks you. 

“Little touch or not, you were told to keep your hands where Jimin put them. And you didn’t. So no more of that,” Jin points to Jimin, who licks his lips lasciviously, “for you.” 

There’s a hissy fit rumbling inside you, but it’s drowned out by the way your pussy is still very loudly begging for their attention. You’re going to have to actually listen and obey if you want to get off, aren’t you? Time to swallow that pride. 

“I’m-I’m sorry, sir,” you squeak out, turning to face the other man, hoping to find a sympathetic face. He’s been the softer of the two this whole time, so you’re disappointed to find that stern, appraising look on his face, the same one he’d used earlier when he was evaluating his chain. 

“Only good girls get to cum,” Jimin informs you. “Do you know what bad girls get?”

Fuck, from his hard expression, you’re pretty sure it’s nothing good. And yet you’re certain you still want it. 

“No, sir?”

“They get punished,” Jin answers. He slaps your ass, making you flinch. “Stand up, brat.” 

You do as you're told. Both men rummage through one of the vanities, grabbing from a stash of condoms. 

Hold up. Your punishment is for them to fuck you?

“You want to go first?” Jin asks his bandmate.

“Age before beauty, hyung.” Jimin laughs at Jin’s dirty look.

As you watch, wondering what’s about to happen, arousal building in anticipation once again, Jin strokes himself a few times before he rolls the condom down his hard length. He runs his hand through his still damp hair, giving it a little shake while he eyes you up and down. Then he resumes his seat on the couch. “Come here.” He pats his lap. 

You straddle him, hands on his broad shoulders, hovering over his dick, slightly confused. This feels like a reward. You couldn’t be more elated at the moment, already soaking at the thought of both of them filling you up. But you don’t question them as you wait for Jin’s instructions.

He places a finger under your chin and tips your head up to look into his eyes. “You remember your safeword?” 

“Yes sir. Alpaca.” 

“Good.” Without any warning, Jin grabs your waist and guides you down onto his cock, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth move.

“Fuck!” You throw your head back as he immediately begins to pound into you, hands gripping your hips, thighs smacking your ass over and over as he sets a brutal pace. “Oh fuck!” Your hands flail, looking for something to grab onto. His body chain bounces against your torso, and you curl your fingers around the metal links, holding on for dear life. 

“That’s it,” he huffs, exhaling loudly, “fucking take it, brat.” A sheen of sweat breaks out over his forehead as he thrusts away relentlessly. 

“Oh god, oh fuck, Jin, that’s mmmph!” Your babbling ceases as Jimin suddenly sticks two of his fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck, brat,” he commands, and you obey. You can’t see him, but you can hear his moans and the slick sound of his cock as he jerks off behind you.

As quickly as before, your climax approaches. When you start to clench around Jin, he snarls, “Not yet,” and he swiftly rolls you onto your back before he pulls out. 

Goddamn it!

A loud, agonized wail leaves you as you feel another orgasm disappear, and the two men grin. 

Jin holds out his hand and Jimin slaps it as the two men switch places. Jimin arranges himself over you on the couch, nudging your legs apart to lie between them. 

Your frustration boils over. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask him. “Did you seriously just tag in?”

Jimin sighs, hooded eyes focused on your lips. “You know, I thought we did a good job earlier, washing your mouth out with our cocks, but there’s that sass again.” He finds the aching nub between your legs and gives it a firm pinch. You buck against his hand with a sharp inhale. “Guess we’ll have to try fucking it out of you instead. All night.” 

He keeps his hand pressed against you, and you start to rut against it, eyes rolling back in your head as you huff, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

Jin honks a squeaky laugh, and you tilt your head to glance at him. He’s reclining in a chair at one of the vanities, looking absolutely debauched with his glittering body chain in one hand and his still-hard cock in the other. “Oh, I don’t think she gets it yet, Jimin-ah. Why don’t you go ahead and show her?” 

“Sure thing,” Jimin teases as he slides the tip of his wide cock inside you. He’s thicker than Jin, and the stretch has you gasping. Thankfully, Jimin takes his time, letting you adjust before he plunges forward. “Shit, so tight, baby.” As he bottoms out, he drops his head to kiss you, his long tongue seeking access to your mouth, which you grant happily. 

Then he snaps his hips and you keen as he quickly matches the tempo Jin set earlier, pumping away mercilessly.

“When I say all night, I mean it, brat. But you’re not getting off. Not until we say so.” Jimin presses your thighs into your stomach, bending you in half. “Is that a good punishment for you, brat? Do you think you can handle it? If we fuck you like this, all night long?”

“Ah, ah!” What are words? All you know right now is touch, the sensation of Jimin’s cock stroking into you, his hands gripping your legs, his sweat dripping down your torso. 

“Answer me,” he demands, gritting his teeth as he focuses on hitting that delicious spot inside you with every thrust. “Can you handle it, brat?”

Fuck yes, you can handle it, except no, you can’t. Your body is already nearing climax again, the tension in your gut so close to snapping that your toes are curling, and you honestly don’t know if you want him to stop or keep going. It’s crazy intense, the way they keep bringing you to your peak again and again. Maybe you can take it. Or maybe you’ll explode.

Either way, you want to find out. 

“Fuck. Yes,” you finally pant out a reply, fingers digging into Jimin’s arms. “Sir.” 

Jimin flashes you that crooked grin again, and just as you feel your crest arriving, he stills. You choke back a sob as he rises from the couch. If they want to keep edging you, fine. You’ll show them that you can take it.

Jin fucks you next, on the floor, on your hands and knees. Then Jimin has you ride him reverse cowgirl. Back and forth, taking turns, they bring you to the brink repeatedly. Their stamina is impressive. And fucking maddening. But you bear it all, eagerly taking every ounce of pleasure they offer, kissing, fondling, fucking you to the cusp again and again. With every lost orgasm, you moan and cry, but you don’t complain, hellbent on showing them that you can take your punishment.

“Okay, brat,” Jin finally croons much later as you’re bent over the bar counter, breasts jiggling into the cool marble while he pounds into you, “you’ve been such a good girl for us. I think it’s time for your reward.” 

“Oh god, thank you,” you nearly weep, only for Jin to cease his pumping. “Fuck! Sir!” Goddamn that fucking word!

Jin laughs as he brushes your shoulder with a soft kiss. “It’s all right, I’m just moving you somewhere more comfortable.” 

He tugs on your hand, leading you back to the couch. Jin guides you onto your hands and knees on the cushions as Jimin kneels in front of you, peeling off his condom & chucking it into the trash. “Think you can take me one more time?” Jimin asks, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. You nod. 

As your mouth parts to let him in, Jin pushes into you from behind. You rock forward, the momentum of Jin’s thrusts bobbing your head further onto Jimin’s cock. The angle of Jin’s rutting hits that soft spot inside you, exactly where you need him, and he slides a hand between your legs to rub at your clit, rolling the pearl between his nimble fingers. 

“Mmmph!” you moan around Jimin, triggering a chain reaction of groans. First Jimin, who begins to thrust slightly erratically, his rhythm faltering, then Jin, as you bounce wildly back onto his cock. He tightens his grip on your hip, other hand still fondling you, and you whine as best you can with a mouthful of dick. 

This time, when you start to clench around Jin, he doesn’t stop, continuing to drive into you and make you gag on Jimin. But it’s too much. The pressure is too extreme, feeling like you’re about to blow, and you feel it rising up in you, so close to bursting, so close so close -

You let go. Popping off of Jimin’s cock, you drop onto your elbows, burying your face in the couch cushion to sob with relief. Your cunt pulsates, walls squeezing Jin, and your eyes screw shut as you feel your release come flooding out. Jin groans, pulling out, ripping off the condom to pump into his tight fist. 

You’re not sure how long you roll on the waves of ecstasy that sweep over you, but it’s long enough that you barely register both Jin and Jimin riding their own euphoria until you feel something land on your back, hot and sticky. Any other other time, a surprise cumshot would’ve led to you kicking some ass, but you’re so blissed out that you truly don’t care. 

It’s been a while, but you’re pretty sure you just squirted all over the couch. 

With your eyes still shut, there’s nothing but panting and your heart pounding in your ears for several minutes. Then you prop yourself back up on your hands, lifting your head to look at the other two. 

“Good girl,” Jin gives you the warmest smile you’ve seen all night, hands soothingly tracing circles over your lower back. “You did so well for us, baby.”  

“Took all that like a fucking champ.” Jimin adds. He touches your cheek lightly, a soft tap of affection, before he clambers off the couch and into the bathroom. When he returns with a wet cloth, he quickly wipes you clean of your release, and theirs. 

Jin collapses onto the couch. You follow suit, letting him tuck you into his side. Jimin snuggles against you on the other side, laying his head on your shoulder. It’s a rather cozy arrangement, and you feel yourself relaxing completely, like a knot that’s been unwound. 

“So,” Jin drawls, “did you learn your lesson?”

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, fighting the urge to fall asleep nestled between them. 

Neither man speaks. 

“Oh, goddamn it. Yes, sir.” 

You’re jostled as both men shake with laughter. Jin drops a kiss on your temple. "Good girl."

There are lots of things about Hoseok that make him the perfect business partner. Like his incredibly sunny demeanor, which comes in handy with schmoozing clients and wheedling deals out of vendors. 

Unfortunately, sometimes he directs that boundless sunshiny energy your way. Usually at the most annoying times of day, such as seven in the morning while you’re trying to sleep. 

“Sugar!” Hoseok throws himself on your bed, waking you as he bounces. “Time to get up!” 

“Why the fuck did I give you a key?” you grouse, rolling over and throwing an arm over your eyes. 

“Because I’m your best friend. And because sometimes you require a hands-on wakeup call when you have a meeting before noon.” 

“Hmmph.” 

Hoseok isn’t just using “hands-on” as a clichéd descriptor, he means it, as he tickles you until you slap his fingers away and sit up. 

“Okay, I’m up, fuck.” You yawn and stretch, but make no moves to get out of bed. “Did you at least bring–” 

Hoseok points to a coffee cup sitting on your nightstand. He flops onto his back and pulls out his phone.

“God bless you, Jung Hoseok. You’re a saint among men.” 

“I know,” Hoseok replies blithely, already scrolling through his texts as you wait for the caffeine to transform you back into a human again. “Hey, Yoongi wants me to thank you for helping out with his fuck-up yesterday. He sent a really apologetic note.” 

You think back to the events of the previous evening. “Oh, no worries, it was my pleasure.” 

Hoseok cocks an eyebrow at your unusually sweet response as he skims the message. “Let’s see - ‘Please let her know how much I truly appreciate her rolling with the band’s schedule. I know her time is valuable. Jin and Jimin both had nothing but the highest praise for her.’” 

At the word “praise,” you feel a slight stirring in your gut, and smile into your sip of coffee. 

“‘As a token of thanks, I’d like to invite her to join me at their concert Saturday night, as my guest. I’d love to show her my gratitude in person.’” Hoseok looks up at you with a ridiculous pout. “Damn, you must’ve really impressed him! Yoongi’s never given me a free ticket to one of their shows, and I’ve known him for nearly half my life!”

“Well, step up your game, Jung.” 

Hoseok rolls his eyes, but he grins anyway. “He said he’ll leave your ticket at the will call window.” Hoseok glances at you again. “If you don’t want it, I’ll happily take it.” 

Hmm. Well, you don’t have any plans for Saturday night, and the little bit of their music you heard yesterday you’d rather enjoyed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?

Maybe being Yoongi’s guest means the chance to go backstage after the show. 

“You know what? I think I’ll go.”

A/N 2: Part 3? Coming? Someday??

© 2022 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

Taglist: @theestrangeddreamer; @parkjiminxfloor; @underratedmisfit; @bangtanintotheroom; @fangirls94; @babycoffeefire; @parkdatjimin; @reliablemitten; @yuugehn; @ut-dixisti; @hesperantha; @seokjinger-ale; ​​@taeshuworld; @nch327; @hannahbee12719ficrecs; @7minsuga96; @dvalitaes; @wonieclub; @thatlongspringnight; @miscelunaaa; @acquiescence804; @itsirisz; @velvetskize; @starbtslove; @ajw05; @bruisedscrewedandtattooed; @minesuga; @greezenini; @aznstoner; @jkkkkkay; @xuxibelle; @soeur-de-ame; @boraborabts; @signmybook; @bbl32; @codeinebelle; @here4btsfics; @itbtoblikethatsometimes; @kookprada

---

“I want to look back and say that I was alive. That I didn’t turn my back. That I tried. That I was happy.”

— Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

---

“You are going to be so much more than ‘enough’ for someone someday.”

— Unknown

---

“It’s all about falling in love with yourself and sharing that love with someone who appreciates you, rather than looking for love to compensate for a self love deficit.”

— Eartha Kitt

---

Kiss Me | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, College!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, dry humping, Jimin's an annoying Cupid, Jin's a shaggy-haired BMOC heartthrob

Word Count: 5.9k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Somehow all the videos you've taken all year star no one but Kim Seokjin. When did you fall in love with your best friend?

A/N: This all stems from a TikTok video montage of Jin set to "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer. Jin is truly just a 90's dreamboat living in modern times, so why not write a fic about that? Thanks to @thatlongspringnight @miscelunaaa @lavienjin @wwilloww @reliablemitten @dntaewithluv for encouraging me to do this! Dedicated to all my possums. 💕

Fic is set in the mid-to-late 1990s. Unbeta'd as usual. I would love to hear what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Join my permanent taglist

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Jimin greets you as he enters the editing room. You’ve been sitting alone, drumming your fingers on the desk while you waited for him to arrive. “The ad guys needed me to sign off on a few things and you know what talkers they can be.”

“No prob,” you shrug. “So what’s up? You said it was some sort of emergency?”

When you first read the email from your editor earlier that day, you’d panicked a little, fearing the worst. As head videographer of your college’s yearbook staff, ‘the worst’ meant that something had happened to the multiple videocassettes you’d dropped off the other day. Those tapes contain every event you’ve attended over your entire junior year. Without them, there basically is no video yearbook.

But when you got to the editing room and found the tapes right where you’d left them, you figured Jimin was just being his usual overdramatic self. Probably just needed you to help him pick out a font or something.

He crosses his arms. “Did you watch any of the tapes before you brought them in?”

“Enough to confirm that I actually recorded stuff, yeah, I watched them a little.” You frowned. “Why?”

“Did you notice anything… unusual about them? Any recurring themes, perhaps?”

“Uh….” Themes? You were a videographer, not a cinematographer. “Can you please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

“Oh, I’ll do you one better. Let me show you what I’m talking about.” He clicks on the main tv and presses play on the VCR. As a tape whirs to life, a handsome face flickers on the screen.

It’s a face you’ve seen nearly every day for the last 3 years. Your best friend, Kim Seokjin. He smiles brightly on screen, dark hair hanging in his warm eyes, and your heart flutters as if he were looking at you and not the lens of a camera. From the outfit he wears, a warm-up suit in your school’s colors, you guess this is the video from one of his tennis matches.

After a few shots of him hitting a few serves, he’s replaced by another Seokjin, this one dressed casually, a bright pink and yellow t-shirt and matching shorts, playing hacky sack on the quad with some other students. The camera stays on Seokjin even when he’s not the one juggling the sack. His squeaky laugh fills your ears, making you smile.

“Did you start editing these together?” you ask. “Interesting choice to segue from Jin to Jin.”

“Hmmm, yeah, interesting,” Jimin replies drily.

Hacky sack Seokjin is gone now. Your brow furrows as you watch yet another Seokjin cavorting on the tv, this one shirtless, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of swimming trunks, chasing members of his fraternity with a hose. Clearly this is from the fundraiser car wash they’d had a few weeks ago. Water drips from his wet shirt, which clings to him as he pretends like he’s going to spray the camera and you audibly gulp.

There’s Seokjin in his choir robes, making you swoon as he sings a solo in his crystal-clear tenor. Seokjin wearing one of his many pastel hoodies, tutoring several students in the library. Seokjin dressed in formalwear, looking like a model rather than a college student, winking at the camera.

But why were these all cut together like this?

Jimin presses pause and the footage freezes midwink. “Do you see the problem yet?”

“I don’t know if it’s a problem, but it’s certainly an unusual approach for a yearbook to focus on only one student, Jimin.”

“Yeah, no shit! That’s the issue,” he sighs.

“Okay. So… why did you pick all of Jin’s shots? Why not throw in some other students?”

Jimin stares at you. “Are you… are you kidding me? I didn’t choose Jin’s shots, I used the only shots you gave me! Each tape is filled with nothing but Kim Seokjin!”

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Well, it’s not my fault that he’s in every freaking activity and organization on campus! Tennis, choir, President of the environmental club, President of the photography club, President of Beta Tau Sigma… do I need to go on?”

Jimin gives you a stern look. “Sure, he’s the big man on campus who apparently never sleeps, but he’s not the only person in those activities! And yet you made him the star of every video!”

“Fuck off, no I didn’t.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at your protest. “Oh, come on! There’s no way. You’re being a real butthead right now - if there’s a joke here, I don’t get it.“

He pops the cassette out and exchanges it for one with ‘baseball championship’ scrawled across it in your handwriting.

“Ha, Jin doesn’t even play… baseball.” Your elation sputters out as the camera pans over the crowd at the biggest game of the year, only to stop and zoom in on Seokjin, who is trying desperately to start the wave. He’s eventually successful, which you discover because the camera never pans away. Not even when a loud roar goes up as something exciting happens on the field. Possibly the game-winning home run that clinched the tournament for your school - you’re not sure, because all you see is Seokjin.

Jimin stops the tape. “Explain that.”

You can’t.

He sighs, patting your arm. “It’s okay. I was once where you are, a young, lovesick puppy following my crush around. You’ll grow out of it.”

“First of all, you’re only 3 weeks older than me, so you can drop the enlightened elder routine, dude, and secondly, I am not a lovesick puppy!” Seokjin is your friend. Jimin knows that. Why is he being such a tool right now?

Jimin says your name in the most condescending “oh honey” tone he can muster. “You really need to figure some things out, huh?” He hands you the tape of his edits. “Here. Maybe this will help.”

“I don’t…”

“The good news is, I think I can still cobble something together using your tapes and the footage provided by our other videographers.” He winces. “I might have to deploy, like, John Woo-levels of slo-mo in order to pad it out a little here and there, but I’ll figure it out.” He clicks off the tv and stands, and you automatically do the same. “I need some java if I’m going to survive a late-night editing session. Want to hit the coffee hut with me?”

“No thanks. If we’re done… ?”

Jimin nods. “Yeah, I’ve got it from here.” You start to leave and he stops you, calling your name. “You should really watch the rest of that. It might clear a few things up for you.”

“Whatever,” you reply, waving over your shoulder.

As you wander out of the student center, you barely take note of the students who call your name and wave to you on your trek back to your dorm. The video is still in your hand. You gaze at it as if it’s a snake, expecting it to bite at any second. What are you supposed to do with this?

Well, obviously there’s only one thing you can do with that tape.

You watch it.

Thankfully, you are alone in your dorm room, since your roommate is at her boyfriend’s for the night, so you don’t have to explain to her why you’re watching a Kim Seokjin compilation. You’re not sure you could explain it. Especially when you don’t fully understand it yourself.

The scenes you’d watched with Jimin roll by, a montage of Seokjin moments that already live in your head 24/7. You reach the shot of him in his rented tuxedo, mingling with his frat brothers and their dates at their winter formal, and can’t help but admire your friend again.

Jimin chose not to cut to another clip of Seokjin here, though. Instead, he let the tape play.

On your little tv screen, Seokjin sees you aiming the camera at him and laughs, sweeping his long black bangs off his forehead. “Are you going to stay behind that thing all night?”

The camera shakes slightly as your giggles float through the speakers. “Duh, of course. I’m on official business tonight.”

Technically, you were there for the yearbook. But Seokjin didn’t have a date for the evening, so you were also attending the dance with him. Wearing a satiny floor-length gown in your favorite color, the one that really made your eyes pop, you hoped you looked the part of a stunning date even if you were just the best friend helping out.

“Besides, you’re one to talk.” You zoom in on the beloved vintage Fujipet in Seokjin’s hand. You were used to seeing the shiny black and chrome camera at special events. But tonight he’s hardly been without it for more than a few minutes. Mostly during dinner, while wolfing down his meal. “That thing’s practically glued to your hand.”

Seokjin immediately sets the Fujipet down. “Okay, your turn.”

“Jin,” your voice whines, “stop. I can’t!”

“Aish, you take that yearbook too seriously. You’re missing out on so much!”

“Uh, as if! I’m literally capturing everything!” you retort indignantly. Seokjin knows how seriously you take this.

One night, many months ago, while reveling in the freedom of being young and very drunk, you’d given Seokjin an impromptu sermon about your hobby.

“Life is fleeting, Jinnie,” you’d slurred, waving your bottle of beer around. The two of you were sitting on his fraternity’s stoop, enjoying a surprisingly warm winter night. “It’s so fucking short! You have to - have to try to hold on to those moments, you know? Because you blink and poof! They’re gone. That’s why I want to record them all.”

“Them all what?” Seokjin, a bit of a lightweight, struggled to follow your speech.

“Huh?”

“What?”

You both dissolved into giggles as Seokjin leaned against you. After a few seconds, you started again. “My point is, you have to capture those moments if you can. So they live on. That’s what I want to do. I wanna grab that magic and store it away to share with others when they need it. I want to - to capture the world!” Throwing your arms up, you accidentally smacked Seokjin in the face, and the rest of the night disintegrated into drunken laughter and apologies after that.

He knows this is important to you. Maybe that’s why he resorts to begging.

“Yeah, you’re capturing it. But you’re not experiencing it! Come on, put it down for a minute and dance with me. Just one dance! Please?” Seokjin pleads with a pout, throwing you his best puppy dog eyes. He knows you can’t resist that look, and offscreen you hear yourself sigh.

“Fine. One dance. Let me pause.” The image jumps wildly as you place the camera on a table at the edge of the dance floor. It must be lying on its side, based on the way everything suddenly shifts, and you can hear a click like you’ve pressed something, but the tape keeps rolling.

How long is this scene going to run? Jimin must’ve thought it was vital to his little clip show, so you flop over onto your bed, tilting your head to better watch the strange angle on the tv screen. Maybe watching nearly upside-down will bring you more clarity than watching it right-side up did.

Seokjin holds out his hand and leads you to where other couples are already swaying to the music blasting from the dj booth. Since you’re alone now, you grab the remote, cranking the volume high. It’s one of your favorite songs - ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer.

He draws you close, long arms wrapping around your waist, a comforting weight settling against your back. He’s warm under your touch, soft, but also solid, the silk of his collar brushing against your fingertips as you rest your hands on the nape of his neck.

The camera can only watch from a distance as the two of you begin to dance slowly, but it’s not like you really need the video. You remember that night pretty well, given that you stayed sober so you could film everything. You’d learned your lesson about manning the camera drunk after you tried to record your roommate’s birthday party one year and ended up with 2 hours of nothing but lens cap.

“See?” Seokjin says after a few seconds. “Isn’t this better?”

“Eh,” you shrug, a teasing smile on your lips. Seokjin laughs.

How could you be blamed for wanting to focus on such a gorgeous man? The camera isn’t zoomed in right now, but you don’t need that machine to show you what’s already so strongly emblazoned in your mind. Those expressive eyes that glimmer as he gazes at you. The way his pouty lips part, revealing that brilliant smile you love so much.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

“Of course! What’s a best friend for?” You beam up at him.

“Right…” he replies, chuckling softly. “Best friend…” He trails off, eyes scanning the couples around you as he leads you around the floor.

Even without the aid of the microphone, you swear you can hear his heart beating loudly as you rest your head on his shoulder, just like you heard it that night.

The camera watches as Seokjin says something that makes you lift your head. And once again you’re struck by just how gorgeous he is. But he’s so much more than that. He’s the funniest. The smartest. The sweetest.

Why not make him the center of your videos? The yearbook needs to be interesting, to entertain people, captivate them, make them want to watch it over and over, maybe wishing they could be there, at those games or concerts or even in the quiet moments you’ve filmed, like this one, just you and Seokjin, slowly spinning around the room in one another’s arms, you smiling up at him like there’s no one else in the w-

Oh.

Oh.

Sitting up quickly, the blood rushes directly to your head and you tip backwards into your pillows, woozy. But it’s not just the sudden flush that makes you feel dizzy. A dozen questions pop into your head, causing emotional vertigo.

How the fuck have you been so blind to your feelings? When exactly had you fallen in love with your best friend? And if Jimin knows, does anyone else?

The scene finally ends, and the image of you and Seokjin dancing becomes him spearing trash along a highway with the environmental club. But the song starts up from the beginning again - Jimin must’ve dubbed it overtop. What a ridiculous flourish.

The video carries on, Seokjin after Seokjin after Seokjin flashing on screen (god, how many of these events did you attend together? All of them??) After a few minutes, you begrudgingly applaud Jimin’s skills, because he really cut the shots so perfectly to line u-

“What is this?”

“Fuck!” You bolt upright as Seokjin’s voice scares the bejesus out of you. Scrambling for your remote, you smash the stop button before turning around.

He’s standing in your doorway, eyes wide underneath his messy bangs as he stares at the tv. One hand grips the strap of the backpack hanging off his shoulder while the other plays with the cords on his oversized blue and white hoodie - a nervous tick you’re well-acquainted with.

“I - I didn’t hear you come in,” you stammer.

“Yeah, figured you couldn’t hear me knocking over the music,” he replies, still staring at the blank screen. “Door was unlocked. What was that?”

“The song? ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpe- “

“Not the song.” He finally glances at you. “I know the song. What the hell were you watching?”

“Well, uh… how long have you been standing there?”

He gives you a look.

You could lie. Make up some sort of excuse, maybe something technical that he might not understand, but you don’t think about it for more than a second. This is Seokjin. Your best friend. You can’t lie to him.

You gesture for him to sit. “It’s something that Jimin edited together for me.”

Seokjin plops himself down on the other end of your bed. “He made you a… a music video? Starring yours truly?”

He seems puzzled. It’d be so easy for you to reach out and press your thumb to the little worry lines between his brows and soothe them away. The urge is overwhelming.

How did you not know you loved him?

“Kinda?”

“What do you mean, kinda?” He laughs a little. “That’s definitely what it looked like. Like watching an Mnet broadcast from an alternate dimension.” He pauses. “But why did Jimin make this for you?”

Nervously, you fiddle with your remote. “He went through all the footage I handed in for the yearbook. Apparently, you’re the focus of every video. Doesn’t matter what I was supposed to be shooting - games, parties, whatever - I only recorded you.”

He looks slightly bewildered at this, even with his thriving confidence. “Only me?”

Nodding, you avoid Seokjin’s eye, feeling heat creeping along your neck. It’s embarrassing trying to explain this. “Yeah. Nothing and no one else. I basically filmed a whole year of The Kim Seokjin Show and he… wanted to point that out.” You shrug, trying to play it cool, but still don’t look at him.

Seokjin’s unusually quiet for a few minutes as he contemplates your answers. Then he scoffs, shaking his head. “Let me get this straight. Jimin put this video together just to critique your work? Seems like a dick move.”

“Yeah, well… if it weren’t for the other videographers, we wouldn’t have enough footage for a yearbook, since mine is basically useless, so maybe his dickishness is a little justified.” You sigh, biting your lip as you realize that you’d pretty much let Jimin and the rest of the yearbook staff down.

“Ah. I see.” He tugs on his hoodie drawstrings, pulling them back and forth. “But would a dick go to the trouble of adding a soundtrack?”

“Honestly, I think he was just showing off with that,” you snort. You finally hazard a glance and find him regarding you carefully.

“Look, I get it,” Seokjin sighs, tossing his bangs out of his eyes as he reclines on your bed. “It only makes sense that you would end up making me the focus of all your videos. I mean, come on.” He gestures broadly to himself, and your lips quirk at his more than healthy self-esteem. “Jimin can’t fault you for that. But if you really wanted some good shots of me for your personal collection, you could’ve just asked for a private performance.” With an exaggerated wink, he throws you an air kiss.

“I’ll remember that for next year,” you roll your eyes, but giggle nonetheless.

He grins. “You should. Anyway… wanna grab dinner?”

“On campus?”

“Nah, let’s do takeout.” He starts rattling off a list of options and you just hum along, relieved.

Thank god it was Seokjin who came through the door and not your roommate or one of your friends. There’s no way any of them would’ve let you off the hook so easily. This is what Seokjin always does - he comforts you even in the most awkward, stressful situations. Like trying to explain why you seem to own a highlight reel of your bff’s greatest moments. He cracks a joke at his expense, makes you laugh, and breaks the tension.

No one else is as thoughtful as he is. No one else cares for you the way he does.

No one else.

“Jimin wasn’t being rude,” you start again when he’s finished listing restaurants. “Well, maybe a little, but no more than usual. I think he was also trying to help me.”

Seokjin twists his drawstrings. “Eh, you’re a great videographer, you don’t need his help.”

“That’s, uh, not what I mean. He was just… it’s that…”

It’s hard to find the right words to explain. All you can do is try. Seokjin’s eyebrows lift, encouraging you on, and you smile, grateful for his patience as you gather your thoughts.

“...he was trying to help me realize what’s been in front of me this whole time. I don’t know when something changed, but it did, and,” you pause, “and, I’m only realizing it now, but I… I…”

He must sense something from your tone, or the way you keep stammering, because he’s suddenly serious, dark eyes studying your face carefully as he says your name. “You what?”

Maybe you should be afraid to tell him. But you’re not. He’s your best friend.

You take a deep breath. “I love you, Jin.”

As long as you’ve known Seokjin, you’ve never seen him stunned silent. He always has a joke or a quip for any situation. Always. But your declaration has rendered him speechless. His face goes completely blank, too. It freaks you out a little.

Panic starts to set in. Did you make a mistake? “It’s okay if you don’t - don’t feel the same way. I just needed you to know.” You give him an out.

No response. His eyes shift, landing on your tv. The screen is still blank but the way he gazes at it makes you wonder if he’s seeing something there. If only you could record whatever’s going on inside his head. Replay it over and over until you understand.

The quiet stretches on too long, eating away at you until you can’t take it anymore.

“Please say something,” you finally implore him.

“I…” he blinks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” What’s okay?

“You love me?”

You nod.

“Okay. I… gotta go.” He slides off the bed and slowly backs away.

“What??” You rise up on your knees, mouth dropping open as he essentially moonwalks to the door. Rooted to the spot, you can only stare as he glances at you, his expression still alarmingly vacant.

“I’ll, uh… yeah….” he mumbles, and the door closes behind him.

Dumbfounded, you stare at it.

“What the fuck?!”

20 minutes pass, according to the clock on your nightstand. You haven’t moved a muscle since he left. It’s like you’re frozen, kneeling on your bed. The air around you feels a little cold, as if he took all the warmth from the room when he left.

It’s strange that you haven’t cried. Seokjin breaking your heart should leave you a sobbing mess, but your eyes are dry. You’re not even sure you know how to cry right now. Maybe you’re in shock.

How could he just walk out like that? His best friend confesses that she loves him and he just says “Okay” and bounces?? Was he that repulsed? Unable to bear the thought of you having feelings for him?

There’s no reason to keep staring at the door, but you can’t tear your gaze away as you wonder what will happen next. You’re supposed to meet him for breakfast tomorrow, before class. Will he skip? Go by himself and pretend not to know you?

Or, simply show up like normal and act like nothing happened?

Somehow, that feels like the worst possibility.

Once again, you’re sinking in endless questions, so you shake yourself free and climb off the bed. You need to get out of this room, get as far away from the tv and that tape, that damn videocassette that started it all. Maybe some ice cream would help. The cafeteria should be fairly empty this time of night, so you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you when you inevitably break down over your Chunky Monkey.

But instead you yank your door open and Seokjin is there and suddenly you remember how to cry.

“What the fuck…” you utter before you’re too choked up to speak. Tears stream down your cheeks.

Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat. He steps into the room, sweeping you into his arms for a tight hug. “Whoa, whoa, don’t cry! Please, I’m sorry!” He sort of wobbles you around, walking backwards clumsily as you blubber into his shoulder until your legs hit your bed, gently coaxes you to sit. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have left like that.”

He grabs you a tissue from your nightstand and you accept it with a glare. A soggy glare, but a glare nonetheless. “Then why did you?”

“Because I needed a minute. I’m sorry, I know it was messed up to just run out on you, but I had to think.” He drops his backpack on your bed and unzips it, pulling out a black metal box. “And I needed this.”

“You needed a photo box?” Sniffling, you pick the box up and turn it over in your hands. There are no labels, nothing written anywhere on the box. You shoot him a confused look. “Explain.”

Seokjin pries the lid from the box and tilts his chin. “Take a look.”

A stack of photos sits inside. The top photo is you, video camera in hand, standing near a chain-link fence. You’re lit from behind by the sun, a bright halo radiating around you.

“That’s at my last tennis match,” Jin informs you.

The next photo is you again, camera held up to your eye as you stand on the quad, head tipped way back, mouth slightly open as snowflakes swirl around you.

“First snow, last year. You were trying to film a snowball fight on the quad, but you kept trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue.” His laugh squeaks like a rusty hinge as his eyes crinkle. “The video bounced so much it gave me motion sickness.”

One by one, you examine the photos. They’re all the same. Caught in profile, you’re the star of every shot, Seokjin’s camera gazing at you while you view the world through your video camera. You keep flipping as Seokjin keeps talking.

“I think Jimin must’ve been exaggerating. Unusual for him, I know,” Seokjin cackles, and you can’t help but grin. “But you have to have recorded other things, other people. Because if you were only watching me, you would’ve seen me only watching you.”

The lump in your throat returns as you look at him. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do,” he replies softly. “You told me once how much you wanted to capture the world. That stuck with me.”

“It did?” Placing the photos back in the box, you push it aside.

“Yeah. It did.”

“But… these are only photos of me?”

“Right.” Seokjin shuffles nearer, until his thigh rubs against yours. He slides his thumb across your cheek, through the tears that cling there, and your eyes fall shut at his touch. “Don’t you get it? You’re my world.”

Your eyes flutter open. “Jin. Kiss me.”

He leans in and you meet him halfway as his mouth presses against yours. It’s soft, chaste almost, your lips just brushing. Then he tilts his head, cupping your face to bring you closer, and suddenly you’re kissing. Really kissing, mouths parting, tongues colliding, your hands in his hair, his hands tugging you into his lap. You breathe him, touch him, taste him. Him, him, him.

Your Jin.

God knows how much time goes by before you break apart. Jin’s face is bright red as he grins at you. You trace your finger along his plush lips. They’re even more plump now, swollen from the many nips you’ve given them.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you murmur, “because that was a pretty corny line.”

“Not a line. The truth,” he replies huskily, kissing your fingertip. “But excuse me, I thought you said you loved me? Not liked me.”

“Ugh, of course the linguistics major would argue semantics.” Will you ever tire of that ridiculous laugh? “I love you, you nerd.”

“You know I love you too, right?”

Joy sings in your chest, spreads through your body. “I was hoping, but you didn’t actually say it….”

“Every day for three years.”

He beams as you look at him skeptically.

“All three years? Every single minute?”

“Yep. Every moment.”

“Prove it,” you challenge him with a raised brow.

“You want me to go get my other photo boxes? This one’s just junior year.”

You weren’t expecting him to back up that claim with photographic proof. You were just trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Say it again,” you command, lips crashing into his. “Please. Again.”

“I love you,” he declares, laying you down. “I love you.” He settles himself on top of you. “I love you.” He nuzzles your lips, your cheek, your neck. On and on, covering you in burning kisses and softly murmured words.

You push him away for a moment, long enough to pull your top off and toss it onto the floor. He sucks in a breath as you unhook your bra and drop it as well.

“Goddamn. Would you look at those,” he marvels. Your head drops back as you laugh. He’s the most attractive man you’ve ever met, sure, but he’s also the biggest dork.

“Do you want to touch them?”

He nods enthusiastically, and you lie back on your pillows, motioning for him to follow. He does so hungrily, mouth immediately sucking one of your nipples in. You keen as his tongue flicks over the tiny bud, waking it up. His hands join his mouth in caressing every inch he can touch.

“Jin,” you sigh, clutching at the hood of his sweatshirt, pulling him back up so you can kiss him. He obliges, but then he’s gone again, lips tracing down your clavicle and running over your other breast. He lavishes both with attention until you’re breathless with want. With need.

His hand plays with the top button on your jeans. “Can these come off?” he asks, eyes round as he peers at you. As if he needs puppy dog eyes right now.

You nod, and he wastes no time undoing the buttons and sliding them down your legs. Then he reaches behind his head and yanks his hoodie off, taking the t-shirt underneath with it. You’d love to tease him about his eagerness, but it would be hypocritical of you, and besides, you’re too busy gawking at his bare chest. His baggy clothes hide the way his broad shoulders taper down to his waist, where the band of his Calvin Klein boxers rides above his sweatpants.

He slides back up your body to kiss you again. This time he lingers, and as his arms come to rest on either side of your head, he rolls his hips into you and you can feel how much he wants this, too. His hard length presses against your core and you whimper into his mouth, running your hands down his chest.

“Jin!” He repeats the movement, your hips lifting to meet his. His hand snakes between you and he slides a finger under the band of your panties.

“Can these come off, too?”

“God yes!”

With a laugh at your zealous response, Jin removes the last bit of clothing you wear. You laid your heart bare before him earlier, and now the rest of you is exposed, too.

His lips hover over yours as his fingers hover above your clit. He slowly draws a circle around the sensitive pearl as he swallows your moan.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he rasps, and as you nod, his finger plunges inside.

You’ve always admired Jin’s hands. Those long, slightly crooked fingers move adroitly when he’s playing with his camera or typing on his keyboard. But right now, his lithe fingers are simply pure magic, stroking, rubbing, dipping in and out. You’re spellbound, your kisses getting sloppier as you pant and groan against Jin’s lips.

“Oh god, don’t you dare stop!” you demand, eyes closing in bliss. One of your hands tangles in your bedspread, pulling the blanket up as you grip at it, while the other curls around his bicep, holding on tight.

“I won’t. I’m not stopping until you’re cumming all over me.” Jin’s voice breathes in your ear. You shudder, from the heat, the touch of his lips, the filthy promise. You’ve never heard him use that word before. It sounds so good on his tongue.

“T-tell me,” you moan. Opening your eyes, you see Jin watching you with an expression of lust that makes you clench around his fingers involuntarily, and he draws a shaky breath. He grinds his hips into the bed and you whine at the sight.

“Tell you what?” He drops his head to your neck, sucking gently, painting your neck with red marks that will fade to black and blue by morning.

“What you w-wanna do. To me.”

He lifts his head in surprise. “You like that?”

Other guys had tried talking dirty with you before and you’d played along, but it had never done a damn thing for you. Not until this moment.

“Yeah. Wanna hear you. Tell me what you wanna do to me, Jinnie,” you beg, voice breathless and sweet, and he groans, capturing your mouth in a harsh kiss before pulling away again.

“Fuck, I wanna do everything to you. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.” You mewl loudly, helplessly, at that last word, and he drags his thumb over your clit, agonizingly slow. Keening, you try to encourage him to speed up by bucking your hips towards him. “Oh, you wanna cum on my cock? How do you want it - deep and slow?” He starts to pump his fingers fast, and your whole body feels tight tight tight, like you’re about to snap. “Or fast and hard? Is that better? Throw your legs over my shoulders and fuck you senseless?”

“Ahhhhh, I want it all, please give it to me, please please pl- “ Your voice breaks as your body breaks, comes apart in Jin’s deft hands. You feel his hips bucking into the bed and then he hisses, burying his face in the valley of your breasts.

“Did - did you just - “

“Yeah,” he groans, voice muffled. “I just came in my pants like a fucking teenager.” He lifts his head, looking sheepish. You laugh, affectionately, amazed at how he can be so sexy but so cute at the same time, heart overflowing as he rolls behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“So,” you drawl after a few minutes of content snuggling, “about those things you said you want to do to me…”

“Yeah?”

“...are you waiting for a formal invitation, or…” You grind your ass against him and he tightens his arms around your waist, huffing a laugh into the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna need some dinner first.” He nibbles on your shoulder. “Let’s take a break. We’ve got the rest of the night. And tomorrow. Every day after that.”

You twist in his arms. “Every day?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.” His gaze is so warm. It’s incredible that you never realized that look in his eyes was the look of love.

“I love you, Jin.”

“I love you too.” He grins. “Now... how about that takeout?”

© 2022 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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