- Summary: Eight months. Eight months you have regretted breaking off being fuck buddies with your hot coworker. You were so afraid of being caught with him but now that you’ve had time to think, would it really be so bad as long as you could have him all to yourself again? Does he even like you anymore? Has he moved on? All you know is it’s been eight months since you’ve had sex, he’s been all you could think about. Now he’s looking pretty hot at this office party.
- Warnings: pining, explicit content, public sex, they fuck on a coworker’s desk, public sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, heavy dirty talk, brief mention of oral sex and a ton of other past sexual acts like thigh riding and hair pulling, kind of jealous tattooed kook, not voyurism but someone else is there at some point, and finally a dash of fluff.
- A/n: This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click >here< to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! Thank you so incredibly much to the donor @lcksndkys for donating and commissioning this, you are an absolute angel, I hope you know that. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away and wrote a few thousand more words than planned, but you deserve it.
“Morning,”
“Morning.” Was the greeting between you and Jungkook every morning when you stepped into the elevator, coffee in hand.
That was it, that was all you ever said to each other anymore. His smell always floated around the confined space making your mind flashback to what once was before you quickly pushed it away from your brain.
Neither of you ever said anything about it, it was like it had never even happened and sometimes you wonder if it even had or if your brain had made up everything that had happened eight months ago from your frequent dirty thoughts of your coworker. It felt like a lifetime ago. The familiarity of him, his smell, his smile, his voice along with the cold distance, avoidance to even look at you, and the constant wonder of him having someone else made you a little sick at your stomach.
You had decided to break things off… as if either of you were any more than fuck buddies. You knew that if anyone at work had ever found out about the two of you, you’d most likely both be fired. No banging other employees was a pretty strict policy there and you remembered the two nice ladies that were fired last year for it, you remembered it because your boss had made such an example of it.
You had been more than paranoid when you and Jungkook were boning for a whole month, you both had been so secretive even going as far as to have each other park down the street from your houses when the other came over. It didn’t help that you lived with your sister and didn’t want her to know you were sneaking someone in the house and screwing them. It also didn’t help that his roommate worked there too and didn’t get along at times. It didn’t seem like all the effort to sneak around was worth it at the time, but now you felt like you had a mistake.
As you took your seat behind the reception desk and began to put away your things for the morning, you just kept stealing glimpses of him doing the same at his cubicle. Every morning he would put his black messenger bag under his desk, turn on his computer, and roll the sleeves of his white button-up shirt up to reveal one very tattooed arm. His wavy hair was usually put back into a half ponytail for professionalism and probably so he could see, but there were always strands that managed to escape his hair elastic throughout the day. It was painful mentally at times having a view of him but trying not to look, it was painful knowing he wouldn’t look back at you anymore. You could still feel what it was like when he had glanced at you and smiled at you, your heart sped up at just the thought.
“Ugh why are you always here so early, you leave before I even wake up.” his roommate,Jimin, had walked in, looking great as usual but a bit tired in the face. He was lingering around Jungkook’s desk with his things still in hand.
“I like to be prepared, unlike you.” Jungkook joked back with a smile but you knew it was just more than a joke, Jungkook really didn't care for Jimin, he was a bit too spiteful towards him sometimes.
He had always come in early, you both were typically the first ones here besides the janitor. You had to be, your boss liked you here nice and early to greet everyone as they walked in.
“You coming to the thing tonight? The boss is letting us have booze.” Jimin asked him.
You felt like you really shouldn’t be paying attention to the conversation so you went back to sipping your coffee and getting ready to start the day.
“Hey.”
It nearly scared you to death as you rummaged through your bag under the desk for your chapstick. Your body jolted up to see Jimin leaning one arm on the reception counter.
“What?” you asked in confusion, wondering what he was now doing hanging around you with such a sly smirk.
“Well good morning to you too. Are you going to the party tonight? Boss is having a thing to celebrate meeting our yearly product sales goal.”
“I… haven’t thought about it, why?” you were honest, it didn’t mean anything to you.
“I know we have this policy, but you should think about going with me.” he gave you a wink that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “We could come here and have a few drinks and a good time, then we could go back to my place and-”
“How about we don’t? We could just not do that.” you gave him a very fake smile.
Sudden loud coughing erupted through the room making you both look over at the source.
Jungkook was doubled over with his coffee still in his hand.
“You good?” Jimin asked him casually and Jungkook gave a thumbs up to show he was fine, even though his big eyes were slightly teary before holding up his coffee cup to signify he had strangled on his coffee.
“Anyway, if you’re worried about someone saying something about us, you could just come separately and we could just see what happens…”
“I’m not worried because there is no us, Jimin. I’ll come, but let’s not see what happens, and let’s not even speak.”
“Your loss. At least I’ll have Jungkook there with me.” Jimin responded along with a shrug to your savage words before walking away.
You looked over to Jungkook to make sure he hadn’t died because he was no longer choking, you just wanted to make sure he was still breathing but your eyes were met with his. He was giving you this gaze before he raised his eyebrows at you with a slight momentary smirk, it all only lasted less than a split second before he adjusted his black tie and turned back around to face his desk.
How could he be so casual with a look like that at you? How could he be so casual with everything that had happened between you? You had no idea what that look was about but it had your brain so frazzled. It could’ve been nothing, but it was the most interaction you’ve had with him in so long, all it had done was remind you how starved for him you were.
You looked down at your desk feeling your face get a little warm.
Images of that very shirt he was wearing right now, being unbuttoned rapidly with those tattooed fingers in some dark, sketchy hotel room ran through your mind.
“I wish you knew how much I’d go through to be this close to you, to be inside of you.” The memory of his words and hushed voice into your skin gave you goosebumps.
The same man who had said that now sat right over there, not even having tried to flirt with you in the past eight months as you sat here and wondered why you do this to yourself.
Did he still feel that way or had he just meant it at the moment? There were plenty at the moment things that he had said that would flood into your mind just to hurt you when you saw him.
You glanced at him throughout the day as you often did.
You avoided each other on your lunch break, stepping around each other to get to the vending machines in the break room.
You ate at your desk alone while he ate with Jimin in the break room.
Things were the same as they had been, the look he had given you earlier meant nothing, maybe nothing that had happened in the past meant nothing to him too.
Maybe it was all just fun like you both had planned for it to be, if so, why were you still so stuck on it? Why were you stuck on him? You told yourself it was just because he was attractive, the most gorgeous man in the office, but there were just these little things about him you couldn’t get over. The way he stretched and grunted in the morning, you knew the way he liked his coffee, you knew his parents’ names. You had both shared so much of your lives for an entire month almost constantly until you ripped it away from yourself so stupidly. You had both agreed to delete each other’s numbers, but the truth was, you still kept his name in your phone with little hearts by his name. You needed this to end, you needed to stop being so hung up on him because he wasn’t with you. You decided to go to this thing tonight and at least hope for some answers, if you failed to get any you would do your best to stop thinking about him.
------------------
You had talked yourself out of this more than five times already, but you had gotten dressed and ready and made the drive over.
You now sat in the office parking lot just picking lint off of your black dress, not looking forward to how awkward this might be. In your years of working there, you had mostly just kept to yourself… until the thing with Jungkook happened.
“Are you nervous? You look nervous” he gave you a little smile from across the table from the coffee shop. He had asked you to get coffee after work and he could see right through you
“A little.” You had admitted.
“Don’t be shy, it’s just me. It’s just Jungkook, we work together every day.”
“Don’t be nervous.” You found yourself saying out loud to yourself as you gazed out your windshield at the building. “I shouldn’t be. I work with him every day and nothings going to happen anyway.” You hurt yourself a little with the last part. You put a lot more care into how you looked tonight than you wanted to admit.
“It’s just a stupid office party,” you grumbled to yourself before unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car, if it was horrible or boring then you could just go home.
-----
You didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this. You had followed the signs to the floor that had held a large meeting room, but it didn’t look like a meeting room now.
It was just a room full of people with a snack table and alcohol. The room was dimmed but there were some cheap party effects lighting things happening. People were laughing and talking over some pop music that wasn’t eardrum-bustlingly loud but you still had to strain to hear over. You spotted a lot of coworkers you saw every day, more that you didn’t know from different departments though. You kind of just went and stood by a wall with your eyes searching faces, not stopping too long on any just in case they might think you were staring at them. Before you had left you wondered if you had been too dressed up, but now you were glad for your little black dress as you saw what the others were wearing. Everyone looked so nice and not at all what you were used to them wearing.
While your eyes were going over who was talking to who, you found him.
In the corner of the room on the opposite end, talking to some girl you had only seen a handful of times. She was touching her hair and smiling at him. He looked so dressed down in his ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt. His tattoos were freed as you had always liked seeing and his hair wasn’t being held back. You had seen him like this multiple times, but had anyone else? He had always looked so good like this, so himself.
Just seeing his hair down reminded you of all the times you had grabbed at it while moaning his name. Seeing him in those black ripped jeans reminded you of all the times he has made you ride his chiseled, hard thighs until you came multiple times.
You felt like you had been kicked in the heart as your brain went back to the present moment and saw her placing a hand on his shoulder.
He laughed at something she had said but took a step back out of her grasp smoothly before giving her a small wave. A few more words were exchanged before she apprehensively walked away from him, heaving him alone to stand at the wall on the other side of the room.
Your eyes darted away from him and over to the snack and drink table, you weren’t planning on getting any, but you wanted to make it look that way.
You felt nervous, he looked good and at least one other person had noticed. You told yourself that the lady who had just spoken to him didn’t know him as you did, she probably just saw a hot guy dressed in black with tattoos… just like you had when you both had started whatever happened. He was more than all of that, to you especially now after you had a lot of time to think about it all.
Although you didn’t want your eyes to, they had darted to him for a split second to see he had his phone out… until he looked up from it at you.
He had seen you, he had seen you looking at him from across the room, but he didn’t react. Instead, his eyes went back down to his phone, and yours went back to the table.
Your phone buzzed in your bag and you decided to fish it out thinking it could help you look busy.
“Hey, it’s Jungkook. I see you :)”
Your heart nearly jumped out of your mouth as you read the text.
He hadn’t deleted your number just like you hadn’t his.
You felt his eyes watching you but you didn’t look up. He was waiting for your reply, but you just stood there dumbfounded that he had just sent you a text from across the room.
“I know.” you had nervously typed different versions of this reply over and over only to erase each time before settling on the most simple reply.
“You look good.” it had taken him no time to reply in comparison to you. You stood there in shock and lost as to what to say to him. You were taking too long because he sent a second text.
“I know that dress. I remember it.”
You had been hoping he would. You had worn this dress on the first night you both had ever done anything. You made out in his car after your coffee date. He had just kept telling you how pretty you looked even with his hand in your underwear. It was hard to resist him from even the first date, you had no idea how you had made it eight months now.
“You look nice too, you always have.” You typed and sent it quickly before you could change your mind.
You watched him run his inked fingers through his hair as he read the text. You could swear you saw a flash of a smile on his face before his thumbs went to work on his phone.
“I miss you.” Popped up on your screen.
Part of you felt like crying a little. You felt his eyes on you once again and you looked up away from your phone to see that your feeling had been correct. You were sure your mouth was open as you locked eyes from across the room. Your phone vibrated again in your hand.
“We should talk.”
“Hey, gorgeous!” Jimin stepped in front of you making you lock your phone. “I know you said let’s not talk but-“
“Then why are you talking to me?”
“How could I not? You’re the prettiest one here.” He smirked but you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.
“Oh hey! I’ve been looking for you!” Jungkook now walked up with a smile at you. “You found her for me and didn’t even know I was looking, thanks, man.” Jungkook seemed to be thanking an equally confused as you Jimin.
“Sorry to bother you about work stuff at a party, but I forgot to earlier. I need the contact info to a client I’ve been working on to sell more products to. It’s wild, it’s like I went to the bathroom one day and the info to this big buyer just kinda… disappeared I guess. So weird, almost like someone has it out for me.” Jungkook gave the fakest joking laugh you had ever seen and Jimin looked a bit wide-eyed. “Anyway, You’re the receptionist so I know you have the contact info for everyone anyway so I was wondering if you could maybe help me out and get it for me? It’s kind of really important and I need it ASAP. Already asked the boss and he said it was cool.”
Jimin had just kind of slinked off silently, but you knew what Jungkook was doing.
“Yeah, Uh of course.” You nodded.
He tilted his head in the direction of the door before you followed him out.
He led you towards the elevator in absolute silence and even as he pushed the button for the floor you both worked on he said nothing.
You were beginning to think he was wanting your help. And then you thought about it more in the silent ride and you felt so stupid. Of course he was wanting your help, he had never said he actually didn’t, not even when Jimin had walked away.
“I can’t believe that asshole sabotaged me like that. My roommate sabotaged my sale.” He mumbled before scoffing as the elevator door opened.
“I-I’ll help.” You said but he passed right by your desk.
“I’m glad you said that.” He replied as he walked over to Jimin’s cubicle.
“What are we doing?” You finally asked.
“Depends…” he raised an eyebrow as he looked back at you. “What do you want me to do?”
You swallowed the lump of nervousness in your throat to speak as you looked into his mischievous-looking dark eyes.
“Whatever you want I guess.”
He lifted you in almost an instant and sat you on Jimin’s desk.
“You know he’s always liked you, right? He would tell on us if he ever found out. You were willing to risk it, right here right now?” He dared.
Instead of speaking you grabbed a fist full of his t-shirt and tugged him down until his lips met yours.
God did you want it. You have wanted for eight long months. You were willing to risk everything after so long without his lips on yours.
You were still nervous but his kiss brought it all back for you and how natural it felt.
“Fuck me.” You pleaded against his lips.
“You need it? Tell me you need it.” His lips moved to your neck as he ran a hand through the back of your hair.
“Ah, fuck I need it. I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” It slipped out of your mouth and got a second your body went rigid.
“Me neither.” He nipped at your neck.
The second thing he had done tonight that had stunned you.
“Wait.” You stopped him and he backed up to look at you.
“I missed you too. Not just… not just this, I missed you. I don’t know if you feel the same but-“
“What did you think I meant by I missed you? I didn’t just mean the sex or your body. I meant you as a person.”
“I-why didn’t you just say?” You wondered out loud.
He dropped to the floor on his knees between your legs.
“Cause you dumped me.” He let out a snort “you told me to delete your number, which surprise, I didn’t. You wouldn’t look at me. Plus this went two ways you know. You didn’t contact me either.” He stated as he looked up at you while ghosting his fingers over the skin of your thighs as he spoke.
“I dumped you?” You were surprised by this news. You know neither of you had had the relationship talk before.
“I mean, I like to think we were together.”
“Then we should be again,” you decided. You were tired of wanting him and not having him and something told you that he felt the same.
“I think so too,” he whispered, inching his lips closer and closer to yours before smashing into them.
His hands squeezed at the meat of your thighs before trailing them up the sides, up under your skirt, and hooking them in your panties. Your tongues whipped together in each other’s mouths. You managed to move so that he could get your panties down, but he only pulled them to your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, so close you thought you might fall off if he wasn’t right there between your legs.
His fingers now slowly ran from your inner thighs to your folds. As soon as he touched you, you unlocked your lips from his and let out a shaky breathed whine.
“I can tell you missed me. You're so wet for me,” he whispered so quietly just for you to hear even though no one else was in the room.
You did your best to stay quiet as his fingers teasingly and slowly ran over your clit and back down to your cunt.
He lifted his slick fingers to his mouth and you watched with a slightly open mouth as he let them slide past his lips and then out of his mouth altogether, coming out more glossy from his spit.
“I missed the way you taste”
His even more wet fingers that now teased at your pussy were making you want to grab his hand and force it to do something more. You were practically shaking under even the slightest of his touches. You were nervous for someone to walk in at any given moment and all he was doing was drawing things out and letting his fingers kill precious time playing in your folds.
“I'd love to make you cum right now with my mouth” he pressed a kiss onto your neck where his face had been camping out while his fingers tortured you. “But I know how that makes you scream and we have to be very…” another kiss to your neck “very” his fingers finally slowly slipped into your cunt “very quiet.” his whispers tapered off to quieter and quieter, so much so that your shaking breaths felt loud between the both of you.
You were doing your best not to break out into full-blown moans so that maybe if someone walked in you could play it off as just talking or something else, as long as no one heard your moans on the way up the both of you could have time to look normal.
His fingers curled inside of you with his palm grinding down onto your clit slowly.
“Oh God.” you breathed not knowing how you were supposed to survive this. He was all you wanted for months upon months and now that you had him here, tattooed hand knuckle deep in your pussy, his lips on your skin saying nothing but filth, you felt like you couldn't even let go as much as you wanted to, but you were trying.
His hand sped up its movements as you could feel how hard he was now in his jeans against the inside of your thigh.
Your lips squeezed together but it couldn’t stop the small whimpers he forced out of you. You could hear him breathing in your ear along with the wet sounds of your pussy. You were close but so scared. Doing this out in the open was such a thrill but it also made you paranoid.
“Cum for me. I hear the way you’re whining, you’re so close I know it. Just cum for me. Cum around my fingers, no one will know.”
You couldn’t stop it now.
You grabbed a hold of his shirt and forced his chest harder against yours, you wanted him closer, impossibly close as you came undone, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as each wave of pleasure pulsed through your body.
He let out a little moan at the sound and feel of you coming.
“I missed that too.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.
He reached between you and you felt him quickly yet nervously fiddling with his button and zipper with his hand that wasn’t soaked in your wetness.
He made a show about taking his thick, veiny cock out of his pants and rubbing your juices from his hand over it.
In seconds he was back in your ear.
“Can I fuck your brains out?” The whisper was soft, his voice was sweet but the words themselves were as hard as his dick he still stroked in his hand.
“You're always allowed brains out.” You whispered back “just do it.”
You felt his head run over your folds teasingly as he continued to play with you and himself.
“Do you still think about me fucking your brains out?” He asked. You could hear how much wetness had spread from you to his cock with each pump of his hand.
“Every time I need to get off.” You admitted. “So give it to me so I don’t have to keep wishing anymore.”
He pushed into you slowly, letting out a deep sigh and throwing his head back for a moment so you could see his perfectly sculpted throat.
You missed how full he made you feel while he was inside of you.
He pulled out almost entirely, the head of his cock was the only thing left inside of you, pushing on your g-spot before the thrust back in hard. This was the way he fucked, pulling out almost entirely so his head hit where you needed it. You had experienced guys that just flopped around, but he knew you, he knew your body, he paid attention, he had a very special handcrafted way to get you off over and over until you were shaking.
One of his hands grabbed your hip while the other went to your clit to play with using his thumb.
“You miss this, baby?” You miss my dick between your legs?” His lips brushed with your parted and panting ones as he spoke.
You let out a whimper as you focused on your second orgasm, his hips were not letting up and neither was his lips that whispered pure filth.
“Want me to cum inside of you, make you not want to forget me and who you belong to? Right here on Jimin's desk.”
Your eyes squeezed shut and you clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you were once again thrown into pure pleasure.
You couldn’t help it this time. The way he touched you, the way he felt inside of you, his grunts and words were all too much.
“Please, fucking cum inside of me, I want it all fuck you feel so good.” You cried out way too loudly.
“Oh my god, fuck.” He breathed through pants as his hips pounded into yours. You felt him release inside of you. Your walls clenched around him upon hearing his long deep guttural moan.
“I haven’t cum like that in…” he panted before letting out a little chortle of laughter “well in eight months.”
“So,” there was a loud voice in the room making your heads turn and your stomach’s sink. “You fucked on my desk.” Jimin looked beyond angry as he sat in an office chair across the room with his phone in his hand, pointing it at the both of you. You had no idea when or how he had come in, but you knew you were both beyond physically fucked.
Jungkook had already scrambled to pull out of you and zip his pants back up as you jumped off the desk, pulled your underwear up, and smoothed out your dress.
“That's fine, I have you both on video. I really liked you y/n. Jungkook, Looks like I’m moving out.” he stood from the chair and headed towards the direction of the elevator. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to speak to our boss about this. He probably won't be too happy to see you two are breaking company policy.”
“Fuck company policy and fuck you! You were an awful friend, roommate and you've always been jealous of me!” Jungkook yelled at him back.
“Not anymore, jobless.” Jimin turned back to give Jungkook a smirk before he stepped into the elevator.
With that, you were both just left there.
“I… I am so so sorry…” Jungkook began apologetically and just as stunned as you were.
“Don’t be, we’re too good for this job anyway, we can find new ones. It looks like you need a new roommate now though.”
You watched his face as a small smile grew on it.
“Yeah, looking for someone prettier and nicer, maybe someone willing to be my girlfriend? I don't know though, I don’t want to make too many demands.”
“Well I could meet all of those demands.” you played along. “We won't have to sneak around anymore.”
“Yes, please, yes. I uh- don't want to ruin the cute moment, but I think we should get out of here before Jimin brings the boss up.”
“Oh fuck, right. Uhh, we should probably just never come back too. Let’s just grab our stuff from our desks and make a run for it.”
“Let's go. You know, this is simultaneously the best, worst, most exciting, and most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me,” he said and you couldn't help but laugh and agree.
Maybe the both of you had made a big mistake, but perhaps there could be good that came from it. You had him back and honestly you didn’t feel too bad about trading your dumb job with its dumb company policy for him.
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title: bewitched, body & soul. (drabble)
pairing: namjoon x reader(f)
genre: pride & prejudice(ish)!au ; marriage!au ; smut/pwp
rating: m (nsfr!)
wc: 4.2k (went slightly over the 3k+!)
warnings: nonlinear plot, unprotected sex (pls be responsible!), cunnilingus, fingering, breast play, light bondage (with his hands), light pussy slapping
notes: this is a commission from one of my inspirations @wwilloww for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! the entire fic (teaser) will also have the link to the advocacy event! this is just the commission submission. also thank you to the always wonderful @missgeniality for the super speedy beta! and to @yoonjinkooked for just being a great hype person in general. you’re both amazing.
prompt: fantasy/historical vibes. really just namjoon in a billowy shirt vibes. standing in a dewy field at dawn vibes. this may be pride and prejudice vibes, who knows?? (you know, writer!) he has something important to say or show the reader. the sun is rising! it's amazing! fluff/angst/smut all good - whatever calls to you!
release date: april 23rd, 2021, 12:15am EST
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He had come with the morning sun.
As a strong, sure hand brushes up your dress—nimble fingers bunching it into beautiful curls—your lips taste the mist on his neck.
He had walked thousands of steps to get to you.
It’s your turn to throw your head back as a mouth as hot as summer shine sears your jaw. Passion sinks its claws into your core, flooding it with want that spirals into the fingers that you rake into your lover’s hair. When a lovely weight pushes into your stomach, one of your arms shoots behind you for balance, knocking a stack of books and parchment paper to the ground.
Rays of dawn stretched over the rolling hills behind him, throwing lines of light on his heavy but determined shoulders.
As you stood in the field outside of your house, you thought it an illusion; your mind had deceived you just as he had, multiple times. Your judgment proved to be the one that caused part of the deception in the first place, but your pride was too inflated to admit any wrong.
The thumps and flaps snap him out of his heated daze, only to spur him to shove the rest of the items off his executive desk. Clinks of sturdy glass and the tiny hits of quills reach your ears right before your body is pushed onto the wooden surface, and before you can protest the choice, a strong body burdens your own and lips crash back down onto yours.
You remember your reddened eyes struggling to recognize that it was indeed him. That it was Namjoon in his telltale long coat encasing his favorite white linen shirt, sleeves cuffing the hands that you had only touched once before. They couldn’t grasp that it was his light grey hair, now a slicked dark silver from accumulated sweat and drizzle, a few stray strands swooping over his sharp eyes.
Your shoulder blades war with the solid surface of the desk, but you don’t care in the least. As you drink in everything that Namjoon is giving you, boldness in the form of your tongue shoots into his mouth, eliciting a low groan that leaves you shuddering. The hands that grabbed your dress before are now pushing the faded grey fabric up your thighs. Higher, higher, not high enough.
“Namjoon,” you gasp as he impatiently thrusts his weight between your legs. “Please.”
“You’re so beautiful.” Your lover—once your enemy—brushes a gentle finger down your cheek. He then cups your jaw with a hand while gripping your hip with another. “I can’t decide what I want to do with you.”
Impending scenarios race behind your eyes, and all you can do is groan. “I know what I want,” you proclaim with a growing smile and demure eyes.
“And what is that, Mrs. Kim,” he responds, sending you careening into another plane.
Your vision focuses for a second to observe his mussed hair, his dimpled cheeks, and the rest of his master bedroom behind him. Shades of redwood and amber engulf his form, and your eyes glide across the loose cambric hanging by his muscled shoulders. Entranced, you lift one of your hands to slide it off on one side, reveling in the defined body underneath its white material. “Why tell one another when we can very well show what we think?”
A warm breath rolls down your face as he chuckles—a low, honeyed sound that took you by surprise the first time you ever heard it—before he murmurs, “I figured you of all people would take any opportunity to speak what’s on your mind.”
You tut before rolling your eyes heavenward. “Well, now I do have something on my mind, but you’re certainly not going to—”
Namjoon smothers your annoyance with his lips once more. He takes your arched back as an opportunity to slide an arm underneath your waist, kissing you deeper and rendering you thoroughly speechless. His mouth leaves yours only to descend down your jaw, trail down your neck, latch onto your pulse.
Enthralled, your legs squeeze his hips. A mewl leaves your lips while your hands frantically skate across his broad shoulders, and when your nails leave tiny red roads on his skin, you feel his cock harden and push further into your center.
There had been a hundred misconceptions between the two of you.
Since the beginning, there wasn’t a time when either of you landed on the same page. Arguments or spats became a staple in your relationship, and everyone around knew there wasn’t any reconciliation in sight—especially after Namjoon had made some choice decisions that he had no business making on his own.
But, if there was one thing you had in common, it was an innate stubbornness that refused to see things for what they truly were. That same attitude had created a rift between you that caused nothing but heartache and a constant, lingering burn in your throat.
Until he had made the journey across.
You remember lowering your eyes to his boots—boots that were always shiny and pristine—only to see dirty, mud-riddled shoes that were falling apart at the seams.
I cannot endure this any longer, he had admitted.
To which you replied, Then don’t.
A hand shoves your dress above your waist. Before Namjoon moves any further, his lips nick your ear and cause you to throw a moan to his vaulted ceiling.
“Yes, love,” he whispers, pushing his mouth into your neck hard and making you bite your lip, “I want to hear you.”
The groan you suppressed comes out in earnest, and your fingers dig into his shoulders at the same time. “I want to hear you, too,” you admit, earning a low rumble in your ear.
“Open your legs for me.”
The command alone makes you whine, but when you slowly spread your thighs only for Namjoon to shove them wider, a full whimper leaps from your throat. A few light taps on your thigh are what you get before your lover cocks an eyebrow. “I know my wife isn’t shy,” he says with confidence and a bit of suspicion.
“But she is a bit… Intimidated.” Although your chest swells with pride at your husband’s words, your stomach still swims with anxiousness. You have never let anyone see more than what sleeveless dresses offer.
Namjoon bends his body over your ruffled form sprawled across his desk. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs before molding his warm lips onto yours once more. Each kiss he had given before had been full of passion, but this one is different. There is nothing but comfort in his touch, and you can feel any stress drip from your body and tenseness dissolve from your bones. You barely resist the way his fingers glide under your dress before looping around your underwear, slowly peeling them from your wet core. You don’t register the way he has stepped far enough to close your legs together, slipping the panties off with ease, before widening them again.
“Can I touch you now, love?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Namjoon kisses down your neck again, but he descends lower, his teeth grazing the slope of your bosom before his mouth picks one to kiss over your dress. A warm palm closes over the other, squeezing before pulling the material down, and when your breasts spill over they are enveloped with his tongue and large hands once more.
“Namjoon,” you gasp, arching your back and digging your shoulder blades into the hardwood again. The pain is surprisingly adding to your pleasure instead of retracting, and you can feel the slick on your center multiplying at an alarming rate. One of your hands shoots into his grey hair, and your tug causes his grips on your hip and leg to tighten immediately.
Latching onto a nipple, Namjoon gives it a hard suck while twisting the other enough to make you cry out, and you can already feel your legs shaking.
“Tell me to stop if you need me to,” your husband orders, “Because I might lose myself otherwise.”
“Please do,” is all you can get past your dry lips, gripping his hair tighter.
“God.” Namjoon abandons your breasts to the chill of the room as he drops to his knees between your legs.
You have no clue how he is going to react once he sees you down there. So when your dress is fully bunched around your waist and Namjoon spreads your thighs apart, the pause that greets you is almost too much to bear.
In a freight, you start to close your legs and apologize. Teeth nick your thigh, and the dark laugh you hear has your eyes widening incredulously.
“I might drown in you.”
You don’t know how to respond. But the fingers that slide across your folds tell you that you don’t need to, and you throw your head back in pleasure. The wetness you feel has pooled onto the desk beneath your buttocks and is now being coated on Namjoon’s long fingers, one after the other rubbing your center in tiny circles and sliding deliciously up and down its slippery slope.
You start to shake in need, but a firm hand shoves your stomach back onto the desk. “Relax, love,” Namjoon orders. “You’re going to like this.”
When you settle back onto the desk, you squeak as your hips are yanked forward. Abruptly, your body is pulled to the edge of the desk, and your legs are hoisted onto Namjoon’s shoulders to rumple his white shirt on one side.
Words are lost on your tongue as his hot muscle dives into your center. You can feel the way your walls immediately flex, you can hear the wet laps and the sucks on your clit. Everything feels new and familiar at the same time, like you had already experienced this with him in a past life or alternate timeline, and the sheer intimacy has your eyes squeezing shut. Moans spill from your lips, constant.
“Namjoon,” you gasp. Frazzled, your arms flail to find anything for purchase, only to settle on the edge of the desk above your head where your fingers grip tight.
Your husband peeks with slitted eyes, groaning into your center when he sees your newfound position. Your lidded gaze drinks in his wet lips, and your foggy mind barely realizes that it’s your essence that coats his face until he dives back down again.
When Namjoon’s tongue fully presses into your core before his soft lips suckle your clit, you cry out in need for more. Instantly, that is what you’re given: long, deft fingers enter your folds to the knuckle, curling up to hit a spot that has your entire being soaring into the ceiling. Exquisite. You’re floating. There’s something inside of you winding and winding.
“Come for me,” is the last thing you hear before your body obeys. A white light blinds you and curls your toes, snaps your limbs rigid and has your knuckles aching as you grip the desk even harder. The loud whine you hear is your own, you recognize, and you bite your lip to smother its volume.
A mouth closes over yours, and there is a strange taste in the kiss you share. When you realize what it is, instead of disgust, you only feel another wave of want slam into your gut.
“As much as I want your pretty lips around my cock,” Namjoon rasps into your mouth, “I can’t wait any longer this time. I need you.”
“Yes,” you agree, your body already winding up again, “God, yes.”
Your fingers are pried off of the edge—you hadn’t known you needed help with it until Namjoon assisted you with slick digits of his own—before your body is pulled off of the desk. “Go,” he commands with a wet pointer finger, signaling to the canopy bed on the other side of the room. “And I want you fully undressed before you get there.”
You wordlessly thank him for being merciful in the change of surface, deftly unstringing your dress like you have done many times before. Shucking it from your body, you untie your bodice next, your legs wobbly with your coming undone the first time. The undergarment drops to the floor, and when you spin around, you take in the sight of your husband—jaw landing next to your clothes.
His body is built like a king. Broad, rippling shoulders come down to a defined chest and stomach, and powerful thighs encase a cock so large and pretty that you can’t take your eyes off of its curve.
Taking the length in his palm, Namjoon takes determined strides to your still form, eyes never leaving your body even when your arms come up to instinctively cover your front.
“You’ll do no such thing,” he commands, his tone juxtaposing the tenderness he uses when bringing your limbs back to your sides. “I want to see all of you. Now get in.”
Obeying, you hoist yourself into the plush sheets, gasping in surprise when a strong body immediately covers yours right after. “You really are impatient.”
“I am.” Your arms are thrust above you, and you let out a quick mewl as your wrists are pinned together. “And you are going to learn why in a second.”
As you gaze up at Namjoon’s rippling chest before landing on his look of lust and adoration, you remember everything that led to your wedding day: the day that you never thought was reserved for you.
But after you had broken the chains surrounding the pair of you—the sheer difference in wealth and status, stubbornness, roaring pride—Namjoon had proposed that morning in the field without pause.
The days following were a blur, but your betrothed had remained confident in his decision; soon, everyone had willingly or unwillingly agreed to your matrimony and the event took place in a garden that rivaled those of fairy tales.
Months of tension, misjudgment, misplaced anger. All of them melted away at the sound of your vows and slipped into the soil under your matching, clean shoes. Your eyes gained stars that day.
Which brings you here: not the night of the wedding, but the morning after. Namjoon had woken you from the first peaceful slumber you had in months, and he coaxed your grumbling form into a robe and into the back garden of your estate.
Both of you wandered the grounds, listening to the early sounds of dawn and whispering as to not disturb the flowers into premature bloom. When you had stopped him only to kiss the knuckles on his dominant hand, Namjoon stared at you and professed his ever-blooming love for you before whisking you into the very room you exist in now.
With the strong arms caging in your vision, veins prominent under their skin, Namjoon steadies himself as he slots his cock in between your legs. Your moan at the feel of his nakedness escapes in a soft puff, and your nipples pebble in anticipation.
Your husband gazes unabashedly at your sex. When his lidded eyes come up to meet your curious ones, he swoops down to claim your mouth again, tongue rolling across your lips and jutting inside to tether his passion to your heart.
You respond in kind, trying and failing to release your arms from his grip above your head. When your attempts prove futile, your whimper echoes into his mouth, and his deep chuckle stirs something primal within your core.
Namjoon’s ravaging continues as he leans his sharp cheekbones into the side of your face, his tongue licking fire along your neck. Unbeknownst to you, one of his hands wanders down to your folds, and you jolt in shock when familiar fingers slide along their path.
“Please,” you gasp in his ear, tightening your arms again and bucking your hips to move anything, anything at all in response to the pleasure. “Namjoon, please.”
“What do you want, Mrs. Kim?”
Your first attempt at a response is cut off by his teeth nicking the pulse on your neck, and your entire butt leaves the bed and thrusts into his beautiful fingers, causing them to slide deeper into your cunt. Namjoon’s proceeding groan is enough to have you keening back for more, but you still have it in you to answer with, “You.”
“You already have me.”
“No, I mean”—you gasp as he moves his fingers around, thumbing your clit and causing slick to gush from your center—“I mean, I need you.”
“That’s the same thing, love,” Namjoon tuts, knowing full well he is being an ass. “I need you to be specific for me.”
As you feel the incredibly hard cock against your thigh twitch in want, you wonder why the hell your lover is stalling. You try to jerk against his strong restraint on your wrists again, and he laughs at your feeble attempt. “You’re impossible,” you huff.
“And you’re going to tell me what you want, or else you won’t be getting it.”
The fingers in your cunt pick up in pace, swirling and diving and bringing you closer and closer to orgasm once more. The spring in your lower belly is tightening as much as the tension in your wrists. “You said you couldn’t wait any longer earlier,” you gasped through the pleasure coursing through your mind, “Change… Change of heart?”
Namjoon shoves his hips down into yours, and the feel of his length presses into your core. You cry out in want, thrashing in earnest and groaning in a mix of frustration and pleasure. Smirking, he leans next to your ear and whispers, “No. I just like seeing you like this.”
“Ass!” you harshly whisper in his ear, and when he leans away before you can bite his ear, you huff again.
“When it comes to you? Always.” There is a brief, light slap to your cunt, and your body jolts up until your fingers knock the dark wooden headboard. “What do you want, love?”
“For my husband to stop being an—”
Another slap to your aching folds causes your back to arch again, your nipples grazing Namjoon’s firm chest. “Try again. Just say it.”
You suck in a breath and exhale shakily, your legs straining with the constant pressure against your core and your arms growing beautifully sore above your head.
“I want it.” You stare right into your husband’s eyes. Even though you have never done anything like this before, the sheer lust hovering around his visage provides you with enough courage to finally put your thoughts into words. “I want your cock, Mr. Kim.”
“Fuck.” Namjoon slides his fingers in one long swipe up your cunt again before bringing them to his mouth. As he licks them clean, you let out a shuddering breath, wondering how there is still room for you to swoon. “I knew my wife wasn’t shy.”
Instead of a biting retort, you only smile. Because though you not shy, you are incredibly nervous. But you trust your husband with your life, so you figure this shouldn’t be that much of a burden.
Namjoon leans down slowly to kiss you once more, and you are grateful for it. It’s a chance for you to relay your nervousness as he positions himself, sliding his hardness against your slick and letting you feel just how thick he will be.
His lips leave yours too soon, but it’s to tell you, “Just breathe for me, okay?”
When you nod, Namjoon slowly enters, and the intrusion is nothing like you imagined: it hurts. You hiss at the feeling, and Namjoon is merciful again in the way he releases your wrists to sling an arm behind your head. His hold on the back of your neck is gentle, and he whispers, “Breathe, my love.”
Your freed hands immediately look for purchase on his shoulders, gripping them while you follow his direction and take deep breaths. The intrusion starts to feel welcoming as your cunt adjusts to the newfound sensation, your walls fluttering around his length and starting to suck him in further.
“You’re so tight…” When Namjoon is fully sheathed, he stays as still as he can muster to let you get used to the feeling. “So perfect.”
You can absolutely tell the wait is torturous for him, which makes you love him all the more. As the pain gives away to sheer pleasure, you slide your hands into his hair and tell him you’re ready.
Namjoon swoops in to steal a kiss from you again, and he digs an elbow into the bed for balance as he starts to move. You love the way his brows scrunch in concentration, the way he looks down to watch himself make love to you while in the act, the way he makes you feel nothing and everything at once.
The feeling is unlike anything you had experienced before, and when Namjoon’s small thrusts end up not being enough, you tell him to go faster. He only laughs before obliging.
“I knew you would be like this here, too.”
“Like what?”
Instead of responding, your husband picks up the pace, his muscles rippling under his sweaty skin and his stray strands of hair bobbing with each motion. Your moans and mewls mix with his deep groans, and you have decided that those are your favorite sound in the world. Maybe even better than the soft turns of pages.
Feeling full and complete is unrivaled. Your body is acting on instinct, moving with him and even wrapping legs around his built frame. The grunt and lip bite you get in return is a prize you sigh at, and when Namjoon claims your wrists above your head again, you revel in the restraint.
“The death of me,” is what he finally answers your previous question with, and you immediately preen.
Your legs slide against his buttocks and the rest of his skin, but your muscles endure. His cock rubs against your walls in the best way possible—each stroke deeper than the last—and you know you’re close to euphoria.
Lips come down to suckle your breasts, and you throw your head into the pillow beneath you. Everything from your hands bound above your head to the way his cock fills you to the brim is too much, and your legs finally give and slam back down onto the sheets.
Namjoon takes this as a cue to take full command, settling on his knees and bringing both his hands to grip your hips. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but the feelings are conveyed perfectly. Passion, want, love. Everything unsaid even after the proposal and wedding day.
Your body goes limp as Namjoon thrusts into you, hard fingers digging wonderfully into your skin and brows knitted in ecstasy. He continues to bite down on his bottom lip as he watches his cock enter you again and again, and your gaze is hazy as you watch his chest ripple with each thrust, enamoured.
You feel it before you recognize the winding. The edge you toppled from before is in reach again, and after a mewl you gasp, “Namjoon! Namjoon, I’m close.”
“Then come for me, my love,” he grunts, low and leaving no room for objection. One of his hands reaches down between you, a thumb rubbing your clit lovingly. The feeling is too, too much, and your vision blanks. Every limb in your body locks with pleasure. The ceiling is closer to you now. You can only describe the feeling as a constant wave crashing against your shore, slamming its powerful crests into you again and again.
“You’re so beautiful.” You hear the words somewhere above you, but they’re blurry in your ears.
Finally—slowly—your limbs settle back onto the bed. Namjoon smiles down at you before asking, “Did I lose you?”
“You’ll never lose me,” you confess truthfully.
Namjoon huffs in amusement before whispering something under his breath. You don’t have time to ask what he said before he starts back up again to chase his own high, and your body is heavy with content as you watch.
He leans down and commands a kiss from you, using the same elbow for balance at your side. You pour your entire body and soul into the connection, and your husband’s thrusts start becoming frantic and jilted. His free palm grabs your hip to steady your quivering form; your hands swing behind his shoulders. Fingers rake love lines across his back, and Namjoon outright moans into your mouth before his thrusts are so rough that your body is shoved up the bed.
You almost feel yourself reaching the third orgasm of the morning, but it’s him you want to come before anything else.
And he does seconds later, his voice gravelly as he groans above your face—your list of favorite sounds forever multiplying. You feel strings of his essence shoot into your cunt, another feeling foreign yet familiar. As his forehead presses into yours, you hug him close, almost brought to tears from the emotions spilling from your chest.
For a moment, nothing else exists. Only the feeling of his bare skin sliding against yours, the connection between your legs, and the souls dwelling within appear on this plane. It’s a strange thing to think. But it is yours to store away in your memory forever.
“I love you,” Namjoon whispers, “Most ardently.”
The words slip down your face and into your mouth, only to be thrown out again as you reciprocate. As you both pant in exhaustion, you already feel sleep start to claim you again as sunlight breaks over the tree line outside your large bay windows.
He had come with the morning sun.
And since that day, you have wanted nothing more than to experience a million more dawns by his side.
-
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fin.
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a/n: ahhh, i hope you all enjoyed! i’ll tag the same people in the tag list here + some joon stans just in case, but this isn’t the full fic!
taglist: @ladyartemesia, @lilmeowmeow02, @fckinshy, @jungoodeewani29, @annacroft23114, @pjmsdior, @sketchguk, @ppersonna, @monvante, @yoonjinkooked, @jungkxook, @r-m, @ditttiii-2, @oftenderweapons, @lovetrivia, @thejooncrew, @joheunsaram, @papillonsgf, @ironicarmy, @trustingofwinds, @sunshinekims, @honeyj00ns (couldn’t tag @livelyjay and @cheshirelikesmile)
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feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021):
⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated!
⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think!
⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D
⇥ here!
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⇥ masterlist
➴ Tags: idiots to lovers (i2l), friends to lovers (f2l), unprotected sex, creampie, biting, standing sex, oral: male, oral: female, marking, choking, fingering, Seokjin has a big dick, masturbation: female, dom!Seokjin, sub!reader, multiple orgasms
➴ A/N: This oneshot was written as a commission by the lovely @lcksndkys for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause!
Thank you to @oftenderweapons for betaing this for me!! You’re a star, baby x
➴ Summary: Seokjin’s ears have always been red as long as you can remember, but at this point, it might as well be a birthmark or something. You’ve never seen him without red ears. Upset that your crush won’t respond to you, you decide to resort to an age-old tactic and flirt with another guy in front of him, but maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew...
Do not redistribute or plagiarise on any other platforms (including but not limited to wattpad, youtube, instagram, facebook). I only use tumblr and AO3 as of the time of posting. If I find my work plagiarised or redistributed without consent, I will not hesitate to take legal action.
“Look at hyung, he’s a tomato again,” Jungkook teases, eyes crinkling at the corner. “It always happens when Y/N is around, doesn’t it?”
You tilt your head to the side at his question, not understanding. “What do you mean?” you ask, blinking rapidly.
The boys around you collapse into a heap, laughing as Seokjin stares moodily into his cocktail, tips of his ears redder than ever. You get the sense that maybe he’s upset, but you’re not sure why.
Although you and Kim Seokjin have been friends since you were both still in diapers, this was the one thing he refused to talk to you about, and it was starting to get on your nerves. You told him about anything and everything, including who your current crush was, who’d taken your first kiss, the way your dad had flipped out when your last fling had accidentally stayed the night and he’d walked in on the two of you spooning in bed...the list was endless.
Actually, now that you think about it, Seokjin never really had anything to say after you told him of your latest escapades, good mood often turning sour. You make a mental note not to do it again, wanting to preserve your best friend’s sanity. With a sympathetic pat on his back - and a gentle kiss on the cheek that causes Seokjin to choke on his drink -, you leave the rowdy group of boys you’d come to refer to as your brothers and you get up off your lounge chair, wanting to frolic in the ocean.
Seokjin watches you stride down to the water, hips swaying with every step you take. You weren’t the most graceful girl, but nobody could deny that you were always the centre of attention when in a room.
“You can stop covering your dick now; another guy just asked for her number,” Yoongi states drily, keeping a watchful eye on you. Seokjin turns to the man three months younger than him, eyes widened in disbelief.
“Can you believe this guy? Absolutely no respect!” his brothers grin at each other as Yoongi taunts Seokjin, the latter flying into a tantrum and unleashing one of his legendary angry-raps. It’s something that all seven boys are used to by now to help Seokjin blow off some steam. Though it’s not the healthiest coping mechanism, it allows Seokjin to air his grievances and get some advice at the end of his rants.
“It’s not my fault that she can cook as well as she can eat and can hold her liquor. It’s like she was made to be by my side, but I can’t have her because she doesn’t know that I like her! It’s not my fault that she notices everyone except me! I’ve been there for her since day one, but all I get is a ‘thank you, oppa’, but she means it in an elder brother way and not the way I want it to be! It’s not her fault but, fuck, if I don’t want to be the person she looks at with those eyes of hers like all the assholes she dated before! What do they have that that I don’t, huh? Pea-sized brains? Big muscles and an innate ability to look down on women? If that’s her type then maybe the problem isn’t with me, but with her! She has no taste in men!”
Seokjin looks up from his glass to take a breath, mid-tirade, but his heart stutters when he sees all the colour drained from his brother’s faces, looking at something behind him...or someone. Closing his eyes, he prays with all his heart that it isn’t you, because you have a talent for showing up at the worst times possible.
Seokjin feels the blood in his veins turn to ice when he sees you behind him, lips downturned into a pout and tears flowing down your face. When you speak, your eyes harden and your voice drips with venom, leaving no uncertainty that you had come back during the latter part of Seokjin’s rant.
“I don’t like pea-size-brained misogynistic men with big muscles, Seokjin. My type is apparently the type of man who’s been there by your side your whole life, only to talk shit about you behind your back the second you leave.”
You stomp over to grab the sunglasses you had forgotten to bring before you turn on your heel, leaving seven shell-shocked men behind.
“Hyung, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon begins before being cut off by Seokjin’s hand waving away his apology.
“No, she’s right. Regardless of how angry I get, I should never have stooped down to insulting her. This is my fault, and I’m going to make it right again.”
You haven’t talked to Seokjin in days. The boys have come and gone, begging you to reconsider or tried to explain from an unbiased view, but you’re not interested. You want to let yourself stew for a little longer and seethe quietly, though you know it’s not healthy.
But as each day passes, your anger begins to dissipate, replaced by logic. Seokjin had clearly been in the middle of talking, so you’d missed some context before you came within earshot. This was Kim Seokjin, the same person who’d braved an entire week of camping with you despite his fear of bugs. The same Kim Seokjin who had risked losing an important promotion by skipping several days of work to take care of you when you had pneumonia.
Kim Seokjin is a good man, but you’re still angry at him, hurt by how superficial he thought you were. Your heart is inclined to forgive him instantly, not wanting to spend another moment without the man you love by your side, but your more rational side demands a proper chat first, one where you would sit down with him and let everything out; which is where you find yourself now, sipping calmly at an oat milk latte and taking a special kind of sick pleasure in watching him squirm.
You peer at your nails over the rim of your coffee mug, admiring the way the gloss caught the light that emitted from the fairy lights all over your favourite cafe.
“Seokjin, if you’re not going to say anything, I’m going to go. I have things to do.” You glance at him coolly as you set down your nearly empty mug, trying your best to appear impassive.
Seokjin panics as he puts a hand over yours, then retracts it as if he’s been burned, opting instead to fold his hands in his lap. You quirk an eyebrow but say nothing, pausing.
“F-first of all,” Seokjin begins, ears beginning to glow a familiar pink, “I’m really sorry about everything I said. Not just what you heard, but everything before that, too. It’s not your fault I’ve liked you for years and have only gotten more jealous as I watch guy after guy make their move on you, only to have you come crying when dates go badly. I can make you happier than they ever could. Because for me, you come first. After food, of course, because I need to stay alive to make you happy, but other than that, you’re my number one priority.”
Seokjin’s ears are burning a deep red when he finishes his confession, cheeks tinged a similar colour as he stares at you, wanting to see how you react.
You blink. Out of all the things you expected Seokjin to say, this wasn’t one of them. You never expected Seokjin to return what you thought was a one-sided love.
The corner of Seokjin’s plump lips begin to turn downwards as you unintentionally prolong your silence. It isn’t that you don’t like him back. God, no. You just didn’t know how to respond.
“Oh. Uhm.” Great start, you think to yourself, suppressing an eye roll. “Th-thank you.”
What the actual fuck. Cheeks burning with shame, you bury your head in your hands, groaning loudly. You hear Seokjin shifting in his seat and shoot out a hand to grab his, wanting to prevent him from leaving before you were able to tell him that you reciprocated his feelings.
When your embarrassment subsides a little, you lift your head to look meekly at Seokjin, who, to his credit, is staring at you curiously. “Are you okay?”
You nod mutely. “I had to ah...”—you clear your throat—“...collect myself. I- I like you too, oppa. I just...wasn’t prepared for a confession.”
You meet Seokjin’s shocked gaze, cheeks burning as he scans your face for any sign that you may be lying. When he finds none, he lets out a breath he’d been holding for the longest time, causing you to feel a little guilty. Had he really been that nervous?
You let it go, knowing the answer. When it came to you, Seokjin had always been a tad on the dramatic side, even if it was the complete opposite of his usual calm demeanour. Besides, you felt bad for having found enjoyment in Seokjin’s clear discomfort earlier, when you had played the part of an uninterested friend.
Belatedly, you notice the awkward silence that settles between you and your best friend, though it seemed to simmer with something more. Anxious to say anything to defuse the tension, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, which somehow makes everything ten times better and worse at the same time.
“So, uh, did I ever tell you that every time I dressed sluttily, it was so I could elicit a reaction from you?”
Seokjin chokes on his coffee, accidentally spewing it on your new black blazer, which you honestly can’t fault him for. If you weren’t so busy wishing that the ground would suddenly open up and swallow you whole, you would be judging yourself too.
What you don’t expect, however, is Seokjin’s quick recovery and his large hand over yours, stilling your nervous twitching, followed by a low whisper laden with promises, meant only for your ears.
“If you’re interested, and trust me when I say you can decline and I won’t hold it against you, I can show you what I’d like to do to you every time you walk out in those little strips of fabric you call clothes.”
You can feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as your hand trembles, making it difficult to input your passcode to unlock your door. Seokjin doesn’t help when he chuckles at your desperation, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Take it easy, you’ll have me for hours yet,” promises Seokjin.
You moan, biting your lip and closing your eyes as you fight to overcome the sudden arousal that pools in your belly. With a deep breath, you shake your head and focus on the monumental task that is unlocking your door, spurred on by the thought of having Seokjin’s giant cock inside you somewhat soon.
You and Seokjin barely make it through your front door before he pulls you flush against him, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest.
“You know...if you’re that impatient...strip for me. I’ll take you against the door.”
Your jaw drops open at Seokjin’s words. He grins. “On one condition.”
Curling your lip, you grumble at him wordlessly after you close your mouth. “What is it?”
“Try to stay quiet, won’t you?” Seokjin leans down to whisper breathily, warm air caressing the outer shell of your ear. You suppress a shiver, closing your eyes in pleasure, only to moan when his teeth scrape gently against the cartilage. “Clearly that’ll be a problem for you. Don’t worry, I have a backup plan. After asking for your consent, of course. How are you with choking?”
Your eyes widen, though you’re not sure if it’s surprise or lust at this point. Unable to formulate a verbal answer, you simply grind your hips against Seokjin’s crotch and rest the back of your head against his collarbone, breathing heavily.
Seokjin, however, pulls back from you, shaking his head. “I won’t accept any option other than ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I’ll ask again. How are you with choking? Take your time.”
You swallow, trying to ignore the lump in your throat, a little overcome with equal parts lust and emotion. “Y-yes. Yes, I’m good with choking. I also like sucking on things.”
Seokjin groans and palms your ass. “Fuck, you’re such a little sl-” he pauses, “tease,” he amends. You let it slide. Normally you’d be into degradation, but you’re not feeling it today.
All thoughts, both good and bad, disappear when Seokjin flexes his fingers, digging his fingers into your soft flesh. The next thing you feel are his plump lips on your jugular vein, mouthing gently at it. Your heart rate quickens at the thought of having his teeth so close to such an important part of your body, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.
You let out a ghost of a whisper, unconsciously tilting your head to the side to allow Seokjin better access. The man in question bites down gently on your neck, letting his nose nuzzle against your jawline as he does so. Your eyes flutter closed, pleasure blooming from where his teeth meet your skin.
“Let’s check how wet you are for me, yes?” Seokjin arches an eyebrow effortlessly and you whimper in response to Seokjin’s question, nodding. If someone told you yesterday that in twenty-four hours you’d be nearly whimpering in anticipation to have Kim Seokjin’s cock in your mouth, you would have called them crazy. Or delusional. Or both.
Without another word, Seokjin slips a hand under your sundress and chuckles under his breath. You wish you had the ability to feel ashamed that your panties were soaked through and leaking with arousal, but you weren’t.
“Excited, are we?” You open your mouth and a string of unintelligible noises erupts from the empty cavern, only to be silenced by Seokjin’s lips against yours.
Slowly, Seokjin begins to rub your clit through your underwear and you melt into him, grasping his arm. You mewl into his mouth, tears pricking your eyes. Fuck, you’re needy.
“That’s okay,” Seokjin purrs as he pulls away from you, leaving a thin strand of saliva between your lips. “So am I.”
Seokjin brings his hands to rest on your waist and tugs you back, pressing a large shape you knew to be his cock against the small of your back. Your breath hitched, everything except Seokjin fading away into nothing.
Images of Seokjin fucking you against the door, your legs wrapped around his waist as you hold onto his shoulders for dear life come unbidden to your mind and you moan, falling limply against his hard chest.
Seokjin grins, though you can’t see it, and rests his lips on the top of your head as he presses harder on your clit, eliciting another cry from you. “Shhh...what did I say about being quiet?”
You let out a shaky breath as Seokjin’s free hand begins to inch along your skin, slowly making its way to your neck, where his beautifully shaped fingers wrap around it, slowly at first, then harder when you make no move to stop him. “Safeword ‘red’ if you want to stop immediately, ‘yellow’ if you are out of your comfort zone but not uncomfortable, I’ll slow down. Two taps to stop if you can’t speak. Try it.”
You do as you’re told, preening when he nods and praises you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Good. Now, I can’t keep you quiet for what I’m about to do, but if you do well, I’ll reward you. Don’t make a sound.”
Without another warning, Seokjin flips you around so that your back is against your door and you’re facing him, then drops to his knees and dives under your sundress, ignoring your questioning look.
Your confusion is immediately cleared when your panties are tugged down and you feel a foreign feeling on your clit, warm, wet, and hard. Your knees nearly buckle from the unexpected pleasure and you panic momentarily, trying to find something to hold. Seokjin chuckles from under your clothes, locking you in place against the door with a hand on your hip.
Your head swims with the sudden onslaught of pleasure originating from the most sensitive area on your body, dizzy from pleasure. A muffled whimper leaves you, escaping through tightly clamped lips as you try desperately not to moan loudly. “F-fuck, Seokjin, don’t stop.”
Seokjin doesn’t answer you. Instead, you feel something prodding gently at your entrance while his lips stay glued to your clit. You clench involuntarily, nails making scratching noises along the wall where you hold it for purchase; a garbled moan eking out from barely parted lips, growing louder in volume when Seokjin’s finger pushes past the tight muscles of your pussy. You feel Seokjin’s lips turn upwards into a smirk when your walls grip him so tightly he can barely pull his finger back, though he succeeds in the end.
Suddenly, you remember Seokjin’s promise to make it worth your while if you stayed quiet, so you clamp a hand over your mouth, adding yet another layer to muffle your moans.
It doesn’t work. Knowing what you’re trying to do, Seokjin bites down gently on your clit, gradually adding pressure and giving you ample time to safeword.
Rather than tapping out, however, you relish the pain mixed with pleasure the minuscule action brings you, closing your eyes in bliss as Seokjin’s teeth scrape lightly against the most sensitive spot on your body.
Ice floods your veins, rooting you in place as an indescribable feeling sweeps over you. The sensation of blunted teeth strong enough to do serious damage to you is addicting, one that you’d never have thought you would enjoy before you gave your trust to your best friend. It hurts and yet it soothes at the same time, washing away the pain almost as quickly as it comes.
Somewhere you hear a high pitched whine, but you’re too far gone to realise that the sound is coming from your throat and that Seokjin’s mouth has left your sex, his slick lips now pressing against yours and swallowing the noises that escape you.
You ride out your high with the help of Seokjin’s thumb continuing to exert pressure on your clit, moving in a circular fashion that seems to hit all eight thousand nerves just so. Without noticing, your legs finally give out and you slump into Seokjin’s embrace, exhausted and panting.
When you come to, Seokjin has you sitting on a conveniently placed end table, leaning against his toned chest as he holds you gingerly.
“You okay? Did I push you too far?” Seokjin’s forehead creases with worry as he scans your face for any hint that you may not have used your safeword gesture even if you wanted to.
Shaking your head, you smile at him, heart thumping away inside your ribcage. “No, I’m okay. I guess...sex is different when you have feelings, huh?”
Your cheeks redden and you tuck your head into your shoulder, missing the way Seokjin’s ears glow with embarrassment again at your confession.
He breaks the awkward silence that settles between the two of you by clearing his throat. “Do you want some water? Stay put, I can get it for you.”
You reach out to grab his wrist, pulling him back to you when he moves to leave. “No, I’m not thirsty. I mean, I am, but not...not for water.”
Cheeks burning with equal parts shyness and embarrassment, you try to look elsewhere, but Seokjin catches your chin between his forefinger and thumb. His eyes roam your face before catching your gaze, presumably to check if you were okay. He seemed more experienced than he let on.
The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth and you grimace involuntarily, shaking your head. It wasn’t the time to be thinking about other girls.
“I want to return the favour,” you purr. Emboldened by Seokjin’s evident surprise, you slide off the table and kneel in front of him to undo his trousers, gulping audibly when his cock springs free from the confines of his boxers.
He’s a lot bigger than you let yourself daydream about,but apprehension turns into lust when you imagine Seokjin bottoming out, moaning as your inner walls flutter around him.
Gingerly, you reach a hand out to grasp him, marvelling at how pretty his cock is. With a girth of approximately two to three fingers wide, shaft gradually tapering off to become the glans, standing longer than most men you’d slept with, and the pink tip weeping precum, there isn’t any other word you can use to describe it except ‘perfect’.
Seokjin groans quietly as your hand wraps around his erection, pumping your hand along its length as you switch spots with him. When Seokjin sits on the table you had so recently vacated, you kneel in between his legs and take him into your mouth, enjoying the garbled sounds that come from him as you do so.
It isn’t long before you’ve worked Seokjin into a frenzy and his hips are bucking up, shoving his cock further into your mouth. You savour the way the usually controlled Seokjin is falling apart under your touch to care about anything else, though your dripping pussy begs to differ.
With your clit throbbing from lack of attention, you bring a hand between your legs and moan around Seokjin at the relief your touch brings, synchronising the rhythm at which you bob your head up and down Seokjin’s cock and your fingers rub at your clit.
“Get up,” comes Seokjin’s voice, strained from the effort of controlling himself. You like to think that you’re the reason for the waver in his voice that he tries so hard to hide, so you let yourself look up at him through your eyelashes in what you hope is a seductive look. If it’s not...well, you’d rather not think about that.
When you linger a little too long on the floor for Seokjin’s liking, he wraps a hand around your upper arm and pulls you up. With a squeak, you tumble into Seokjin’s embrace, narrowly missing the corner of the table he’s perched on.
In one swift motion, he unhooks your bra under your dress before motioning for you to take the rest of your clothes off. You do as you are told, growing impossibly wetter as Seokjin orders you around, switching positions with you. Before today, you wouldn’t have believed you would drop everything at a man’s command, but Seokjin...he’s different. You aren’t sure how to describe it, but you trust him. You know that he’d never push you to do something you were uncomfortable with, that he loves you, that… somehow, you’re his world just as he’s your moon, the solitary light that stands out in a sea of darkness.
“Bend over,” is the next order Seokjin gives you. You comply willingly, resting your elbows on your table, cunt dripping with arousal as you wait in desperation. He doesn’t make you wait long—just long enough for your breath to quicken in response to the sound of a belt jingling as various articles of clothing drop to the floor.
Your eyes close to savour the way Seokjin leans close to nip at your ear, teeth grazing the outer shell in a manner that causes your skin to prickle with goosebumps. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Yes or no only, no hard feelings if you say no. Do you want this?”
Seokjin remains where he is, neither pulling away nor continuing to tease you in an effort to ensure your decision remains unbiased as possible. You allow yourself a small smile before turning your head to meet his gaze. “Yes. Yes, I want this. I want you.”
Something akin to relief flashes in his eyes and he leans forward to press his lips against yours in a kiss equal parts loving as it is desperate. For the brief moment your mouths connect, he tells you all you need to know. He loves you. He desires you. You are the key to undoing him.
You chase his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that flares along your shoulder blade when you reach out a hand to stop his head from moving too far. When your lips meet, you sigh happily into it, opening your mouth to allow Seokjin access when he asks for it. Seokjin chuckles at your neediness, though the way he rubs his sex against yours betrays his own desperation to feel you.
Angling your hips down, your breath catches when the tip of Seokjin’s cock presses against your entrance. You freeze in anticipation, waiting for the moment where Seokjin would finally push forward and find himself where he belonged—inside you—, but it doesn’t come. Seokjin seems intent on punishing you for the (well-deserved) silent treatment.
With a whine, you break the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you let your eyes snap open and glare angrily into Seokjin’s eyes.
“Kim Seokjin, what the hell are you doing? Just fuck m—” your complaint transitions into a moan, throaty and loud, as Seokjin grins and buries himself to the hilt in one fell swoop.
Seokjin groans, eyes closing as he savours the feeling of your walls clenching involuntarily around him. You whimper at the stretch, loving the way it teeters precariously between being painful and pleasurable. It feels good though, and you nod at him to continue when he lifts an eyebrow in a wordless question.
Your mind settles into a white haze of sorts after Seokjin begins to rut against you, the pleasure taking over your very being. Suddenly, you lose all ability to form coherent sentences and the only words you know are “Seokjin”, “please”, and “fuck”; staccato moans make up the most of the sounds that emit from your mouth every time Seokjin impales you with his cock.
The loudest cry you let loose is immediately silenced as one of Seokjin’s large hands hurriedly covers your mouth. “Naughty girl,” he murmurs into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You really don’t care if your neighbours hear, do you?”
Your only answer is a whimper as Seokjin picks up the pace, clearly not sympathetic to your plight. “Do you know what bad girls get?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before pushing you down onto the table and covering your back with his chest, biting down on your ear. You jerk under him, but he doesn’t give you much room to move. Instead, he pins you in place and presses kisses along your jawline, fucking you into the table before biting down on your neck, taking care to avoid the jugular vein. Seokjin sucks at the skin, causing bruises to decorate the delicate flesh of your neck that will remind you of this very moment for days to come.
You mewl at the feeling of hickeys littering your neck, wanting to cum but unable to without clitoral stimulation. Desperate, you try to rub your legs together, but find it impossible, as Seokjin’s body is firmly nestled between your thighs.
Understanding what you need, Seokjin bites down hard as a final warning and removes his hand from your mouth, moving it to press against your most sensitive spot. When he begins to rub your clit, you fall off the precipice, hurtling towards your second orgasm.
Somehow you’re able to keep quiet throughout your high, but as your cunt pulses around Seokjin’s cock, he’s unable to do the same and he finishes deep inside you with a moan that hurts your eardrums.
Seokjin pulls out of you after he’s finished painting your insides with his cum, breathing heavily. “You okay?”
You straighten and turn to face your best friend after he gets off you, smiling. “Yeah, I’m okay. So I hate to do this when we’re naked and sweaty, but...what happens now?”
You shift your weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward, when Seokjin tilts your head up to meet his gaze.
“I mean, we both like each other, so...if you’re up for it, we can go get ice cream after we shower...?”
Though Seokjin’s words exude confidence, his tone is anything but; rising in pitch near the end of his proposal. Smiling, you press a kiss to his lips. “That sounds perfect, but you’re buying me mint choco.”
Seokjin’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “As long as you don’t make me eat it, you have yourself a deal.”
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this fic. Please consider reblogging so that others are able to find my work! It gives me a lot of motivation to continue writing.
➣ Premise: You thought ‘Hope’ was a girl, but looking at the hot dude currently claiming to be your roommate, you might be wrong.
➣ warnings/tags: pure fluff, reader gets a lil sick for a minute
➣ word count: 4.6k
➣ a/n: this was a commission by @hobi-gif for Army for AAPI! Thank you so much for commissioning this, I hope you enjoy it! You guys, check out ways to get involved in this awesome cause by clicking the link!
--
You look down at the application, and back up at the person standing in front of you. Down, then up.
Twice more, just to wrap your mind around the dumbest mistake you’ve ever made.
“Umm…Hope?”
The man fidgeting nervously before you manages a bright smile. “Yep. That’s me!”
Again, you stare down at the application. “I…you’re the one moving in?”
Hoisting the heavy-looking box higher in his arms, the man – Hope if he’s to be believed, offers a strained nod. “Yeah, it’s sort of a nickname…Hoseok. I’m Hoseok.” He looks around, poking his head through the doorway to your small apartment. “Mind if I set this down? It’s kinda heavy…”
You step aside in a daze, watching as Hoseok sweeps inside and sets the box down with a thud on the counter. A moment later another head is peeking inside before carrying in another box.
“Hey, I’m assuming you’re one of the roommates?” The newcomer asks, sweeping some of his ashen-blond hair off his forehead and extending a hand out to you. You take it with some trepidation.
“I am. And you’re Hoseok’s friend?”
“Namjoon. Just stopping in with a few of his things. Oh,” Namjoon waits until Hoseok walks back outside before continuing, speaking to you in a hushed tone. “I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for letting him move in. Ever since our landlord found out we had seven people instead of six, it’s been hard trying to find a place but Hoseok was adamant he be the one to move out. Did want to separate the others-”
“Wait, woah,” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “Seven? Seven people living in one tiny apartment?”
Namjoon tilts his head to one side, brows furrowed. “He didn’t tell you? That’s why he moved out; someone had to. Our apartment has a six person limit, so once our landlord found out Hoseok volunteered to be the one to move out.”
It appears that Hoseok hasn’t told you a lot of things.
“I…no, he didn’t mention that.”
Namjoon moves on, unphased. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for taking him on. It’s nearly impossible to find a place this time of year, and we weren’t sure if you would be chill with having a male roommate, but it really means the world. This way he can stay close to us-”
“Close?”
“Yeah, we live just a few blocks away. He didn’t say that?”
At that moment Hoseok walks through the door, still wearing that sheepish smile that he directs at you.
“No. He must have forgotten to mention that, too.”
--
Once Namjoon has left and Hoseok gets into organizing all of his things, you set up camp on the couch. Book in hand, you can’t help but assess your new roommate.
A part of you wants to get rid of him, but another part of you is interested to see what might unfold from this strange situation. You’ve never had a male roommate before, and if Namjoon is any representative for what this man’s friends look like…
You suppose it’s not too much of a pain to allow Jung Hoseok to stick around for a little while.
Hoseok hums to himself, occasionally making little sound effects as he puts a bowl away or opens a cupboard. Every once in a while he’ll ask you a question, like, “Is this spot free to use?” or “Are you allergic to anything?”
You’re nearly heading to bed when Hoseok knocks softly on your door. Your rooms are on opposite ends of the apartment, something you find yourself being extremely grateful for tonight. The knowledge that a stranger is chilling in your apartment is enough to have you feeling a little worried.
It’s simple. Sure, Hoseok seems nice enough. Friendly even. But he’s too attractive to be normal.
“What’s up?” You ask, opening your bedroom door to see Hoseok with his arms full of shampoo and other shower items.
Despite the large bottle of Pantene blocking his chest, it’s easy to tell that he doesn’t have a shirt on beneath his robe.
Indeed, the sight before you is enough to have you clutching the doorframe until your knuckles are white in an effort to not gape.
Wearing nothing but basketball shorts and fluffy white robe, Hoseok shuffles from one foot to the other. “Oh, I was just wondering if you had any preference about where I put my things in the bathroom. You know, if the left side is specifically yours or something like that.”
“Huh?” You shake your head, forcing yourself to only look at his eyes. That turns out to be even worse, in some weird twisted way. “Oh, yeah. Well, I tend to put most of my stuff on the left side of the vanity. But you can put your stuff wherever. I’m not worried about that.”
Hoseok nods, taking a step back. He bids you a quiet goodnight before retreating back down the hallway.
A few seconds pass as you remain in your doorway, thinking hard.
No, you’re not worried about sharing a drawer in the bathroom or putting the A/C on a lower setting, as he asked you about earlier.
You’re just worried about the fact that you’ve never found a pair of basketball shorts more attractive than just now.
Basketball shorts paired with nothing but a robe?
“This is gonna be great,” you mumble to yourself, closing your door and leaning against it. Only when you hear the sound of the shower going do you allow yourself to relax. “I’m gonna die.”
--
2 weeks in
“I’m headed to the store, you need anything?”
You pause, assessing the contents of the fridge. “Um…eggs?”
It’s not very often the two of you are in the apartment at the same time, your schedule being polar opposites. However, it’s always relatively friendly. Still a little awkward, but always cordial.
Hoseok – or Hobi, as he’s repeatedly invited you to call him – scans his little list. “Already on the list. Anything else?”
“You already put eggs on the list? Like, for me?” The two of you by no means share groceries.
Hobi shrugs. “Yeah. I figured you were nearly out since you eat them like every morning.”
“Hey, not every morning-”
“Every weekday morning.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Tell me I’m wrong. I’ll wait.”
You groan. “Yah, just go. I’ll text you if I need anything.” Turning back to the fridge, you utter out, “Annoying little-”
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
You wait until you hear the door close to let out a sigh. “Huh.” You didn’t even realize that he would notice those kinds of things. It’s a strange feeling, having someone notice even the most mundane parts of your routine.
You…like it?
Opening up a few of the cupboards, you realize that you’re nearly out of bread. You grab your phone, pulling up Hobi’s contact and calling him. He picks up after a couple of rings.
“Hey, did you remember something else?”
“Yeah, would you mind picking up some bread, too?”
“Oh, good one. Um…” you can hear him moving around, and you swear you hear the click of a pen before he speaks up again. “Wheat, right?”
Again, that strange feeling stirs in your chest. “Right.”
--
2 months in
“I’ve never met anyone as obsessed with skincare as you.”
Hobi chuckles darkly, beginning to apply his night mask to the other side of his face. “I doubt you’ve ever met anyone with such oily skin before, either.”
You lean up against the doorframe, resting your head against the side of the door. Hobi continues applying the crème, looking utterly focused on the task. His forehead scrunches up in little lines as he looks up, rubbing underneath his eyes.
If you’re being completely honest, it’s adorable.
To put the icing on the cake, he begins humming to himself and leaning in closer to the mirror, making you chew on the inside of your cheek. It’s horrible enough that he has to be wildly endearing, but does he really have to be so cute?
It’s exhausting.
“It smells good,” you sigh out, eyes drifting shut. Hobi’s good looks isn’t the only thing that’s been exhausting to you lately. School is trying its best to wreck you and you hate to admit that it’s doing a great job of it.
“You want some?”
Eyes fluttering open at his question, you furrow your brows. Hobi is looking at you in the mirror, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He squeezes out a bit of the night mask onto his finger, turning to you.
“You already washed your face, right?”
“Mm.”
“Good,” he nods more to himself than to you. “Close your eyes.”
Giving him a distrustful look, you realize that you’re too tired to bother bickering with him at the moment. Instead, you close your eyes and hold your breath.
A moment later the cool feeling of Hobi’s fingers dabbing the cream on the tip of your nose. He repeats the action all over your face, his other hand coming to cup your chin as his thumb absentmindedly traces your jaw.
You suddenly feel extremely off balance, swaying on your feet. Hands shooting out to steady yourself, you instinctively cling to the front of Hobi’s sweatshirt. He chuckles lowly, making you tighten your grip.
“Don’t fall over,” he mumbles, beginning to rub the night mask into your skin.
You don’t say anything, settling for an annoyed huff. After a moment, Hobi takes up humming the same tune he was before. The two of you settle into a comfortable daze, your shoulders relaxing as the seconds tick by.
“You know,” Hobi muses as he switches to your right cheek. “We’re pretty good roommates. Don’t you think?”
“Mm. I’m still angry you put ‘Hope’ on your application, though. That was a dirty move.”
Hobi’s laughter has you opening your eyes just to catch the expression of happiness he’s sure to be wearing. Sure enough, his head is thrown back and his heart-shaped smile in on display, the sight tugging at the corners of your lips.
Catching your eye, Hobi smirks. “How can I ever make it up to you?”
You purse your lips, melting a little at the concentrated pout that forms as Hobi resumes applying the night mask. He’s moved up to your forehead now, making your eyes drift shut again.
“I vote you make me French Toast one of these weekends.”
“Oh, and that’ll solve it?”
“No, but it’s a start.”
He chuckles quietly, pausing and then tapping lightly against your cheek. “All done.”
Opening your eyes, you see the slightly confused look in Hobi’s eyes as he squints down at you. “What?”
He blinks. “What?”
You nod at him, “You look confused or something.”
“Oh.”
When he doesn’t answer after a long moment, you step back into the hallway. “Alright…I’m heading to bed. Thanks, Hobi.”
His brows are furrowed as he turns back to the mirror, the confusion only growing. “Night.”
--
3 months in
You’ve quickly come to learn that there are pros and cons to having Hoseok as your roommate.
One very strong pro is the fact that he’s a clean freak. You swear you haven’t had to worry about vacuuming for the past three months, he always beats you to it.
“What are you doing?”
He pauses mid-fold, eyes wide as he looks up at you. “…folding.”
“My laundry?”
He glances down at the shirt in his hands as though just realizing that these are your clothes. “I…yeah. Yeah, I am. It’s just, you left your basket out here by the couch so I figured I might as well fold it and put it away if you’re gonna leave it out here.”
The passive aggressive tone in his voice rolls off your shoulders, knowing that he didn’t intend it that way. It’s obvious to tell that something is on his mind as he continues to you’re your shirt and place it atop a neat pile beside him.
You find yourself sitting cross-legged across from him and silently joining in on the impromptu folding party. Once you finish, Hobi clears his throat and avoids eye contact with you.
Perhaps it has to do with the fact that he accidentally grabbed the same pair of lacy black underwear at the same time as you, which ensued in an awkward match of tug-of-war that you quickly won once he realized what he was holding.
“So, the guys are doing a thing tonight.”
You blink, pulling the folded laundry toward you and getting up. “…ok.”
Hobi’s face lights up in a grin, and he jumps to his feet. “Really? You’ll come?”
Perhaps it’s the utter joy you see in his eyes or the way he’s currently shaking your shoulders and causing the socks on the top of your pile to tumble to the ground, but you burst out laughing.
“Hoseok!” You shout through your laughter. “You didn’t even invite me!”
He immediately stops shaking you after that, scrambling for some form of a response. Swiping one of the pairs of socks that slipped to the ground, he kneels down on one knee and looks up at you with a giddy grin.
“Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to visit my friends tonight?” With no shortage of sound effects, he offers up the socks as though proposing to you with a priceless diamond ring.
“You’re an idiot.”
Hoseok’s smile only grows. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
--
Hobi’s light knock on your door goes unnoticed as you slumber on, completely dead to the world. After you had put your laundry away, you felt a wave of exhaustion overtake you.
He knocks again, and this time you rouse just enough to grunt out something incoherent. He slowly opens the door, poking his head inside.
“You still gonna come with me, sleepyhead?”
His chipper voice makes you wince, your head pounding. “Mm, jus gimme…” you close your eyes again as the dull light filtering in through your blinds is enough to send you spinning. “…a sec.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and you think that Hobi must have left. A second later, however, you hear him padding across your floor.
“Are you sick?” He answers his own question as he places his hand against your forehead. “Oh, jagiya, you’re burning up.”
The pet name has your temperature rising a bit more. “Mm fine.”
Hobi chuckles softly, taking care to be quiet. “Have you eaten? Where’s your water bottle?” They’re all rhetorical questions apparently, because moments later he’s scooping your water bottle off the floor and tiptoeing back out of your room.
After what feels like hours later, Hobi sidles back into your room with a full water bottle, some soup he must have microwaved, and another glass of liquid. It’s steaming, the scent making you scrunch up your nose in distaste.
“What…” you can hardly muster up the energy to finish your sentence. Hobi perches on the edge of your bed, carefully placing everything on your nightstand.
“It’s medicine. Drink it, and it’ll help. But first you need to sit up.”
Easier said than done. Your body is exhausted, and your arms shake a bit as you attempt to scoot back against the headboard. Cheeks burning a brighter red, Hobi thankfully doesn’t comment on it. He just patiently readjusts your pillows and tucks your hair behind your ears with meticulous movements that have you smiling softly.
“Ok,” he sighs out once that’s been taken care of. “Now, eat some soup…” his words trail off as he hands the bowl off to you. He watches as you bring the spoon to your lips, mumbling, “Blow, it’s hot.”
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you follow his instructions. Once you’ve eaten over half of the soup and feel too full to continue, he hands you the steaming cup that has you scrunching your nose up all over again.
“C’mon,” he urges, “my mom used to give this stuff to me all the time when I was a kid. It works like a charm, promise.”
“Mhm.”
“What?” He crosses his arms, frowning. “You don’t believe me?”
You shrug, mindful of the full contents of the glass. “It’s just easier said than done, that’s all.”
“Here, I’ll take a sip to show you that’s it’s not bad!” Reaching for the cup, you burst out into a fit of laughter as Hobi stares down at the liquid with unabashed terror. He clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “Right…just one sip…”
Blowing across the surface carefully, he sacrifices his tastebuds. The instant he swallows, he thrusts the cup back into your hands and dives off the bed. “Ach!” He rushes out of the room, no doubt heading for the kitchen. Indeed, a moment later you hear the faucet running and wonder if he just decided to shove his head under the running water instead of wasting time on grabbing a cup from the cupboard.
With your water bottle on hand, you attempt to chug the medicine. It’s horrid, making you gag, but you continue until the contents are drained. You’ve just managed to drink some water to rid yourself of the lingering taste when you hear Hobi’s phone ring.
“Hey hyung,” he’s still in the kitchen, but you can hear him clearly. “Oh, yeah…I don’t think we’re gonna make it. No, it’s not that, she said she’d come.”
You freeze, holding the still-warm cup close to your chest. For some reason, your stomach does a little flip when you hear the way Hobi’s tone changes as he speaks about you. It’s infinitely softer, something you don’t recall hearing before.
“She took a nap and woke up with a fever-” he pauses. “Yeah, I just gave her medicine. But she needs to rest. She’s exhausted. What? Ugh, really Jin? I’m not-” The sound of Hobi shuffling about has you leaning closer to the open door, trying to hear what he’s saying. His voice is much quieter when he speaks next, but you can still hear bits and pieces of what he’s saying. “I can’t just make a move on her while she’s sick, that’s unethical!”
Clapping a hand over your mouth before he can hear you snort, your eyes widen. Make a move?
On you?
“Yah, quit it. Tell everyone I say hey, I’ve gotta go.” Again there’s a pause, quickly followed by an annoyed hiss. “See, this is why I never tell you anything.”
He quickly says his goodbyes after that, and you scramble to appear normal despite your pounding heart. You hear Hobi’s sigh from the kitchen, and you wish you could know what he was thinking.
“Alright,” Hobi calls, heading back into your room. The second he enters you feel as though you’re seeing him for the first time. “Let’s get it- oh, you already finished it?”
You blink, suddenly blinded by the sight of his adoring smile. As he settles down on the edge of your bed, you manage a feeble nod.
“Jagi,” again with the pet name, “you look exhausted. Let me take the dishes and how about you go back to sleep?”
Despite the fact that you literally live in the same apartment, the thought of Hobi leaving you alone in your room has you stalling. “Uh, who called?”
There’s a flicker of panic that’s quickly replaced with an easy smile. “Jin hyung, he was wondering where we were. Don’t worry, I told him we weren’t gonna be able to make it.”
You’ve heard plenty about Jin – truthfully about all of Hobi’s friends. You were excited to meet them tonight, after hearing so many stories.
“I’m sorry,” you frown, still clinging to your glass. “You can still go, if you want.”
Hobi looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Why would I…? No, I’ll stay here with you. Can’t leave a sickie on their own, you know that.”
Groaning, roll your eyes. “I feel like an idiot.”
“If you’re an idiot, I’m an idiot.”
You snort, setting your glass down before you cause an accident. “Isn’t it, ‘if you’re a bird, I’m a bird’?”
Hoseok shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. “Close enough.”
He holds your gaze for a few seconds too long, but neither one of you look away first. Instead you bunch up your blankets in your fists and offer him a crooked smile. “Thanks, Hobi.”
His eyes linger on your smile, his lips mirroring it. “Anytime.”
--
4 months in
Nothing has changed, and yet everything has.
Ever since you fell ill, you’ve been jumpy. Anytime Hobi accidentally brushes up against you as he reaches for something in the kitchen, whenever he knocks on your door, even when he calls you from the grocery store. It all makes you jump and sends your heart racing.
“You’re so dramatic.”
You look up at Yuri, your most brutally honest friend. “…ouch?”
She shakes her head, sinking down lower in her seat across from you. You keep boxing up your leftover food to take home, wondering if Hobi would like it.
“I mean it. You’ve been freaking out about this guy for over a month now without doing anything about it.”
You pause, looking at Yuri with wide, pleading eyes. “What am I supposed to do? He’s my roommate!”
“So what? Your lease is up in a few weeks, isn’t it? If it backfires, just move out.”
You snort. “Easier said than done. I can’t just up and move whenever I like, you know.”
“You can’t or you don’t want to?”
“Shut up.”
“I refuse. Now,” Yuri checks the time on her phone. “tell me what you like about him.”
“I never said-” you sputter, but Yuri holds up a hand and cuts you off.
“Actions speak louder than words. He’s literally your background on your home screen.”
Ok, that sounds like a bit much. It’s true, though. A week ago Hobi finally got to take you out to meet his friends. Together you went on a midnight hike (something you’d honestly never do again) and found a breathtaking view at the top. His friends, specifically Jimin and Taehyung, had practically shoved the two of you together for an impromptu photoshoot under the night sky.
The photos are a little blurry and dark, but you love them. Enough to add one as your background. “But you can’t actually see us in the picture, it’s just pretty-”
“Sure it is. You two make a cute couple.”
“W-we do?”
Yuri jumps up, clapping her hands and startling a couple just a few tables down. “Aha! See, you do have feelings for him!”
“Ok, ok,” you hold up your hands in surrender. “Just sit down.”
Once she’s taken her seat again and apologized loud enough for the couple she scared to hear her, you lean in close over the table. She rubs her hands together, looking every bit the scheming friend she is.
“Alright, let’s plot, shall we?”
--
Hobi checks the window for the eighth time in under five minutes, brushing the curtains aside to see if your car is in the lot yet. It’s not.
“C’mon Jung,” he rolls his neck, bouncing on his feet. “Calm down. Keep it chill. Everything’s fine.”
Everything is not fine.
Things haven’t been fine for months now, something he’s been able to deny to an impressive level. Last weeks, however, the lie came to an end.
His friends loved you. Like, ranted and raved about how funny and cool you were until he was worried he needed to organize an intervention. Then, the icing on the cake.
Yoongi had grabbed him while you were hiking back down, sandwiched between Jin and Jungkook. He nodded down at you, turning a knowing eye to Hobi.
“So…when’s that gonna happen?”
Hobi played dumb, frowning at Yoongi. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Hoseok, c’mon.”
You laughed at Taehyung, who jogged up ahead. He was quickly joined by Jungkook. Hobi’s pretty sure his heart stopped beating as you turned around, searching for him. Once your eyes found his, your smile widened.
Yoongi laughed at his side. “You’re whipped, and you don’t even realize it.”
Indeed he was. Dangerously so, if he was going off of the amount of times he’s knocked on your door to ask you out only to change his story at the very last moment to ask you something stupid instead. You never seemed to mind, just laughing at his strange questions and teasing him mercilessly.
“Ok,” Hobi whispers to himself, still bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You’ve got this. Just rip it off like a Band-Aid. Quick and to the point.” He tilts his head to one side. “But not the painful part. No pain.”
He’s in the middle of his pep talk when the sound of your key in the lock alerts him to your return. Hobi is standing in the middle of the living room, looking like an idiot. Naturally, he shoves his hands in his pockets. Yeah, that makes him look less like an idiot.
The second the door opens and you step into the apartment, every thought eddies out of Hobi’s mind.
You freeze, not expecting Hobi to be standing in the middle of the living room impersonating a lamp when you got home.
“Hi…?” Hobi swallows at the sound of your voice, watching your every move as you slowly lift up the bag of leftovers. “I brought home leftovers if you want some…”
“I need you to go out with me.”
Now you’re really frozen, staring up at Hobi as his eyes widen at his own words.
“What? What for?”
“For me.”
You slowly close the door behind you, setting the food down on the counter before turning to face Hobi again. “For you?”
He nods, a panicked look in his eyes. “Yes. For me.”
“Hobi, I don’t understand. Do you need a plus one or something for an event? Is that what it is?”
Removing his hands from his pockets and taking a step towards you, Hobi shakes his head. “What? No, I need- I need you.”
It’s a good thing you already set the food down. “Me?” You squeak out, looking your roommate up and down as he takes another step.
“Us.”
Clearly there’s been a communication error. Hobi brushes his hair back from his face, chewing on his bottom lip before coming to a stop before you.
“Us,” he repeats, voice low. “I need us to be a thing.”
“O-oh.” That’s all you can manage as you try to recall if Hobi has ever looked at you like this before. It’s hard to contain yourself when you realize that he has, however he’s always been quick to mask it with something else. Or, more often than not, a silly question.
“Will- can you…” he stops, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Without his gaze on you, you gain a bit of courage and raise a hand to cup his cheek. His eyes fly open, and he offers you a shy smile. “Do you want to go out with me? On a date?”
Craning your neck, you hold your breath and plant a kiss on his cheek. You delight in the way he instantly flushes, garnering more courage by the second.
“Yes.” Then you arch a brow. “I have one condition, though.”
Hobi’s eyes are half closed as he looks down at you, appearing as though he’s slipped into some euphoric realm. “Hmm, anything.”
“I demand French Toast.”
Dissolving into a fit of laughter, Hobi sinks to the ground, taking you down with him. You protest, but not too much. Holding you tightly, Hobi subsides in his laughter enough to wink down at you. “French Toast it is.”
pairing: namjoon x jimin
genre: smut, 18+ readers only
word count: 5.1k
summary: namjoon has worked as a bodyguard for an upscale BDSM dungeon for long enough to know that jimin is the most sought-after dom there. it only takes one miscommunication for namjoon to discover firsthand why that is.
warnings: unedited, sexually explicit content, power bottom!jimin, sub top!namjoon, unprotected sex, degradation, light pain play, BDSM dynamics, kinda temperature play, i think that's it but i'm so out of practice so i apologise if i missed something
a/n: this piece came to fruition thanks firstly to the @armyadvocates AAPI Justice and Advocacy initiative, and secondly to the kind commissioner @goldenwallsvol6 on twitter who requested this (i'm so sorry for not including everything you asked for, i got a little carried away kdsjfdssk). please check out the AAPI initiative here, consider donating, and check out the resources that come with it.
-----
Clocking in to work has become such a routine for Namjoon that he often finds himself switching his brain off, preoccupied with half-thoughts as his body runs on autopilot.
He signs in, uses the staff changing room to replace his sweats with the company standard uniform - a tight t-shirt and slim fit jeans, the belt of which he hooks his keys on. He doesn’t actually start his shift for another couple minutes, and so he ducks to the bathroom, chews a breath mint, and stretches before heading out of the office and down the narrow hallway that leads to the den.
In fact, it takes him a few steps into the dungeon before his automatic schedule is disrupted.
It appears Namjoon is entirely alone in the facility.
His steps, taken with heavy-duty boots, echo around the hollow space with nothing but the walls to absorb them. It’s a Thursday night (he consults his phone just to be sure) and he was on the closing shift. On any usual day, he’d be starting work right at the bustling high of the BDSM dungeon, yet he finds himself wandering alone.
Shaped in a rough X, the center of the dungeon is open-plan, with more private spaces forking off. The wing he’s in is generally full of swingers and kinksters making use of costume changing stations and a room full of cleaning supplies and disposables like condoms or wet wipes. It was always the calmest section, but never dead like this.
In a daze, Namjoon glances inside the rooms anyway, half-expecting the place to burst into life at any given moment. But it stays undisturbed, and in no time he’s in the central atrium, weaving through bolted-down couches, benches and racks until he can sink onto a stool at the bar.
Coherent thought escapes him. His brain flails for a reason, but the absurdity of an entirely vacant sex dungeon has him lost for words. After a moment, in restless futility, he stands back up and goes behind the bar, back further into the mini storage/kitchen that he knows features a window.
Outside the narrow, slightly dusty frame is an empty parking lot. His heart sinks, feeling sorely left behind and out of the loop, but a glint catches his eye. Pressing his nose to the glass, he squints and peeks a somewhat familiar vehicle, pulled into the closest park to the entrance of the dungeon.
Namjoon stares pointedly at the Hyundai, racking his brain. God, who was it that had a-
A wooden scrape from behind has Namjoon jumping in violent fright, catching his forehead on the protruding frame of the window. Cursing, he whirls around and glimpses movement further inside. Another drawn-out scrape is followed by a very human-sounding huff.
Heart still racing, Namjoon makes his way out of the storage area and stands behind the bar, seeking out the presence.
“Oh, shit, you gave me a heart attack!” Park Jimin stands off to the left of the room, hands on his hips and head tilted back in relief. “I thought you were a burglar.”
“No,” Namjoon states redundantly, mouth not quite working beyond that. He knew he recognised that silver SUV - every Thursday he watched Jimin hop into it and pull away after a long night of scening. The two had exchanged words often, more than Namjoon could say for most patrons. Being the bouncer for a sex dungeon didn’t lead to that much genuine conversation, but he always appreciated the effort Jimin would put in, hair wet with sweat and lips curved with happy exhaustion but still asking Namjoon if he’d managed to work out whether it was birds or the neighbour’s cat eating his strawberry plants.
He forces himself to check back into the present when current-Jimin cocks his head with a slightly sheepish grin, awaiting an actual explanation. “I, um,” Namjoon stutters, having to avert his eyes to construct anything coherent, “I didn’t realise the club was shut, I’m honestly a little confused.”
Jimin’s smile drops, plush lips rounding in surprise. “Oh, really? Hoseok-hyung said he sent out emails to all the staff. There was a pipe leak so we called off our whole calender until Monday. Did you not get it? We’ve had troubles with work emails getting stuck in spam; something about a sex dungeon really seems to set off the detectors,” the man quips with a jovial lift of his brow.
Namjoon bites down on his tongue, offering up a silent nod of acknowledgement. He’d seen Jimin more times than he could count in black, red, royal purple. In the club he favoured leather, not buckled and studded but sleek and tight, often decorating his lithe body with harnesses, gauntlets and heavy rings instead. More often than not, he’d boast unsmudgable smokey eyes with sharp liner, cheekbones as harsh as they were dewy. It had taken a while, but Namjoon had eventually grown used to the sight, able to prevent chubbing up at the mere sight of his ass as he bent to open his car door.
For some reason, seeing him outside of that whole persona is far more intimidating. Still covered in a light sheen of sweat, that’s the only linker to the Jimin Namjoon is faced with today. He’s got chunky white sneakers weighing down his feet, long overalls rolled up at the cuffs to let some air reach his ankles. The overalls prove particularly problematic to Namjoon, as they don’t seem to have anything underneath. Namjoon can see collarbones, glorious collarbones, and the lean bare sides of Jimin’s torso. If he bent over, Namjoon would probably get a glimpse of his nipples. The thought dampens his mouth with need.
Jimin himself seems unaware of, or at least unbothered by, the way Namjoon stares him down. Instead, he reaches down to push a cardboard box as tall as his waist across the hardwood floor closer to the bar one shove at a time. “Anyway, you’re welcome to head home. I’ll get Hoseok to add half an hour to your payslip for your troubles.”
“What are you doing here then?” Namjoon asks reflexively, cringing at how loud he’s accidentally pitched his voice.
Jimin’s face is surprisingly round without the stroke of makeup to emphasise dimensions, and when he beams at Namjoon, it softens his whole face even more. “I’m taking advantage of us being closed to install some new furniture. D’you wanna see?” He seems to reconsider, shooting Namjoon a worried look. “It is sex stuff, though.”
“I wasn’t expecting a bookshelf,” he answers honestly, and is rewarded with the bubbling sound of Jimin’s laughter, drowned out prematurely by another shove of the box. “Here,” Namjoon says suddenly, darting out from behind the bar, “let me help.”
At first, Jimin pushes while Namjoon pulls, but after a few grunts of exertion, steps back and lets Namjoon take over, not disguising the way his eyes linger on the way Namjoon’s biceps and pecs flex under his t-shirt sleeve. Obediently, Namjoon lets the bleach-blonde guide him to an open space near the centre of the room, depositing the weighty box there.
With a satisfied hum and a lingering glance at Namjoon’s body, Jimin bends over with a pen from his pocket, using the nib to pop and rip the tape on the box lid, yanking back the flaps with ferocious enthusiasm. He lets out a delighted cry upon lifting a frame of styrofoam out of the box, revealing the goods inside.
One at a time, he takes out oddly-shaped plates of metal, plastic baggies of bolts and screws, and some rubber caps. Kicking the empty box away, Jimin slots his hands back on his hips and grins at Namjoon. “Can you guess what it is?”
Namjoon takes a moment to consider the different sections of stainless steel. The largest isn’t flat, but a rectangle with a slight curve to it, the gentlest arc. The rest come in mirrored pairs, most just for structure, but four of them featuring heavy-duty O-rings. Though he works outside the play area, Namjoon can guess what those are for. “Something for bondage?” he ventures, stomach flipping when Jimin eyes glint with thinly veiled interest.
“A breeding bench,” Jimin explains, squatting to let his fingers trail down the side of one bar, “the metal feels sterile and cold for those that like it. Have you used one before?”
Namjoon feels unsteady on his feet. “No,” he answers, but the softness in his voice betrays his lack of aversion to the thought. But Jimin might think he was a dominant, too, Namjoon worries. Everyone else tended to. “Not yet,” he adds after a moment.
Jimin sucks in a silent but sharp breath, chin lifting. “I could use a hand setting it up. Would you mind…?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah, no problem.” Namjoon tries to clear his throat, but the lump of anticipation remains. “Happy to help.”
“Excellent,” the dom beams, fishing around the pieces of styrofoam to locate the printed instructions, handing them to Namjoon. As Namjoon begins to make sense of them, looking over the basic diagrams, Jimin sits down on a nearby ottoman, intended for viewing the other stations, but continuing to face his new help instead. “I’ve been wanting to get to know you more anyway,” he divulges in a honeyed tone.
“Really?” Namjoon glances up from the instructions, feeling the heat of Jimin’s gaze. Even in worn overalls and unstyled hair, the man strikes a gorgeous image, and his posture screams distinguished dominant down to the curl of his fingers. His mere presence has Namjoon feeling off-balance in the most electric way. “There’s not much to know.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Jimin replies immediately, deadpan. “Why are you standing outside every night when you’re just as kinky as those of us indoors?”
“Excuse me?”
Jimin leans forward, legs splayed wide and elbows on his knees. His eyes are intently focused, blazing. “For a while it drove me crazy,” he starts, “you looked so familiar. I saw you every evening and couldn’t put my finger on it. But you used to scene here, didn’t you? Years ago.”
Namjoon’s heart stops beating, sitting heavy behind his ribs instead. “You- You’re not meant to approach people you know from the dungeon outside. It’s against the rules.”
“We aren’t outside,” Jimin counters. “I want to know why you stopped. You don’t look happy, Namjoon, seeing others come and go while you’re stuck to your post. Help me understand.”
Taking a few deep breaths, Namjoon stays silent, opening his mouth seeming too daunting a task. After a moment, Jimin swallows hard and sits back again, giving up the inquisition. Namjoon chooses to continue the task at hand, consulting the instructions.
The bench itself is a relatively simple setup. There’s two long cuts of steel in an X below the main panel for stability, four legs with the O-ring bars at either end, and the rubber caps on the bottom to avoid scratching the floor. As he putters around with the nuts and bolts, using a tiny spanner provided in the baggies to tighten them, he feels Jimin’s curious gaze on him. Silent.
Eventually, the silence has its desired effect, and Namjoon lets his internal thoughts vocalise. “I played here for a while. My partner and I ended up going our separate ways, and I wanted to give him space.” He doesn’t make eye contact, pulse thudding and heating the pieces of metal he fiddles with.
Jimin takes a short moment to reply, but it feels cavernous. “It’s been years, then. Hasn’t he had enough space yet?”
Namjoon’s eye twitches. How many nights had he stayed up with that exact question in mind? “It doesn’t feel right anymore. People would know me for who I was then. And I’m- I’m not that person.” His partner, an eager sub with a need for a firm hand, had asked Namjoon one day if he was sure he was really happy being a dom, and it had entirely dismantled the place in BDSM that he’d cultivated for himself. That sub was right, and he didn’t know how to adjust his course to fit his true desire.
So he’d pulled away entirely, unable to fully leave this world, but unsure of whether it still had a spot for him inside it. He just wants to feel what it’s like to let go in the way his subs did. And as his hands focus on constructing the heavyset bench, his mind wanders deeper in this vein, loose-lipped enough to confess it all to Jimin.
Jimin listens without judgement, not even seeming surprised when Namjoon admits to feeling more submissive, and the lack of reaction is liberating in a way he couldn’t have expected.
It’s not until the final bolt is fastened in place and Namjoon leans back, slightly breathless, that Jimin stands up and approaches him again. He crouches in front of Namjoon, eyes tender and hesitant, reaching out a hand.
Confused, Namjoon holds his out, palm-up, and Jimin takes it carefully, circling his fingers around the narrowest part of his wrist. Still, it’s too meaty for Jimin’s fingertips to connect. He squeezes lightly, carefully, before locking his gaze with Namjoon again, who swears he’s no longer breathing.
“Do you want to try?” Jimin asks. His voice is low, soft but full-bodied. “Do you want to try to let go? Club rules would apply.”
And Namjoon is nodding, and the grip on his wrist is tightening, restraining, and Jimin’s surging forward, lips on his.
His free hand comes up to hook around the nape of Namjoon’s neck. He’s held there, unforgiving, as the dom deepens the kiss. There’s no space between them, just skin on skin, tongue on tongue. It’s uncoordinated on Namjoon’s part, but so calculated and thorough on Jimin’s, like he knows the exact way to unwind him.
Jimin’s fingers scratch up into Namjoon’s hairline. He’d been growing out the length a little for winter, just enough to cover his ears, and it provides leverage for Jimin to grip on and tug, tug, tug in sharp bursts, timed unevenly enough that Namjoon is never ready. Every pull sends an electric shock down his spine, right between his legs.
He’s hard already, achingly so, and it just worsens when Jimin shifts his weight, bringing a foot forward and over Namjoon’s thigh, half-caging his body flush against his.
Jimin’s body is hot, even through the denim overalls and searing when it’s skin-on-skin. Namjoon can hear himself panting when their mouths split apart briefly, but he can’t stop his head from spinning long enough to care.
Before long, a rumbling growl escapes Jimin’s throat, and his teeth find Namjoon’s lower lip, scraping and nipping at the flesh. It’s not until Namjoon’s hand is shaking in Jimin’s grip that he pulls away, eyes wild and alight.
Namjoon must look utterly debauched, with swollen lips, hazy eyes and rucked-up hair, but his cock is screaming to be touched, and his breaths become infused with pleas for more, begging Jimin to touch him.
“God, you greedy little thing,” Jimin remarks in wonder, and a shudder takes over Namjoon’s body. Jimin quirks a brow. “Good? Bad? I don’t know what you like.”
“Good,” Namjoon insists without shame, “oh my god, good. Say m-more like that.”
Jimin hums with a grin, hand on Namjoon’s neck slipping around front to fist his shirt, yanking it suddenly. “Up, then,” he barks, standing himself, “I want you on the bench you built for me. Thank God that body is good for something; it’s not much fucking use now, is it?”
Namjoon’s breath leaves him in a rush, and he gets up shakily, almost tripping over his own feet as he lowers himself back down on the end of the bench. It’s chillingly cold even through his jeans, and he trembles at the thought of touching it with bare skin. Jimin has no such qualms, however, planting his palm on Namjoon’s chest and pushing him backwards, insistently guiding him down without knocking his head on the metal.
His teeth chatter briefly, but it’s nothing compared to when Jimin clicks his tongue and reaches down to strip the thin fabric of his t-shirt off with one fell swoop, the stitches breaking as they’re forced over the broadest part of his shoulders.
Ice erupts across his back and he gasp, shooting up. Jimin’s hand prevents him from getting far, and his breathing grows loud and sharp, shivering violently as his body fights to warm up the steel. The slight arch of it slots perfectly into the divot of his spine, meaning every inch is flush against him.
“You stay where I put you,” Jimin scolds, flicking at a nipple in punishment. “It’s pathetic, isn’t it? You, lying here, asking to be degraded by somebody half your size? Pathetic. You’re lucky I’m a giving man.”
“Th-thank you,” Namjoon offers up with wide eyes. He doesn’t know the protocol, doesn’t even know how he should be acting as a sub, let alone as a sub for Jimin. He can barely believe the situation he’s ended up in, but he’s never felt so alive. The cold steel is a wakeup call to sluggish veins, his blood rushing faster than ever, most of it going straight to his dick.
Jimin huffs like he’s not quite pleased with the response - even as his eyes crinkle and glint with satisfaction - and simply hooks a finger into the waistband of Namjoon’s jeans, frowning. “Can’t even get undressed yourself. For goodness’ sake.”
Namjoon’s cheeks burn, and he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling so overwhelmed. Though it was years ago, the habit of being in control hasn’t left him, and part of him feels anxious being so vulnerable. Closing his eyes eases that, and Jimin lets him, briefly reaching up to give his upper arm a squeeze, a lilting hum asking the unworded question.
“I’m okay,” he breathes to the darkness behind his eyelids, and the squeeze returns before Jimin straightens up again, fingers yanking impatiently at Namjoon’s jeans, undoing them and yanking them off, taking his briefs with them.
The new level of nudity sends another shock of cold to his system, but this time Namjoon welcomes it with a groan, tilting his hips up so that his cock rests on his lower stomach. His fingers twitch, aching to wrap around himself.
His desire is answered, not with the delicious grip of fingers, but with the hard press of the heel of Jimin’s palm, pinning his hardness down without mercy. A moan dies in Namjoon’s throat as his body tries to curl inwards. A second hand holds him down still, leaving him unable to escape the heavy pressure.
He pants, writhing and toes curling, but Jimin just sighs softly, like he’s more relaxed than ever. “Such a waste,” he drawls, his voice blooming with all the flourishes of a Disney villain, “wanting to be treated like a slut, but what am I getting out of this? Hm?”
“U-uh-” Namjoon has no idea what to say, cracking his eyes open to seek out the comfort of acknowledgement above the level of the scene. His breath is taken away at the sight. Jimin, above him like an avenging angel, golden-haired and glittering with sweat, still fully clothed (as fully as you could call a single piece of denim). He finds Namjoon’s searching gaze and sends him a calm, dreamy smile of encouragement, before twisting his palm against the base of Namjoon’s dick, wringing a strangled groan out of the man. “You can take me,” he pants, filled with the urge to provide, to serve, “take what you want.”
Jimin tilts his head to the side, like this proposition is worth considering. As he makes a show of pondering, he taps his fingers lazily against his cock’s dripping head. Namjoon swallows the whimpers that threaten to bubble up, and forces his hips not to budge. “I’ll be honest with you,” Jimin says finally, “because you don’t deserve sugar-coating. If I was here with a fleshlight or a dildo, I would’ve come already. You’re wasting my precious time, sweet boy. I don’t want you to lay here and simper, I want you to be a good toy for me. So what’s it gonna be?”
Namjoon’s muscles are trembling; from his lips to his toes, he feels like he’s vibrating slightly, restless down to the very atoms that make him up. Jimin is patient, lazily drawing sticky patterns of precum on Namjoon’s abdomen with his pinky finger. Namjoon fights against the primal part of his brain for something coherent, replaying his words. Fleshlight or dildo. Be a good toy. Jimin was offering him the choice to top or bottom, Namjoon realises, and his cock twitches, feeling liberated and thoroughly taken apart with that heady mix of submission and power. He was giving control to Jimin, but never losing his choices.
For a moment, he does consider what it might feel like to let Jimin take him. He’d never bottomed before - at least not for anyone but his own fingers in his experimental years - but if anyone could make him feel safe, he suspected it would be the dom leaning over him. It’s once he really thinks about it that he knows he’s not ready, a thin strand of dread winding around his lungs that won’t go away until he’s stammering to Jimin that he can have Namjoon’s cock if he wants it.
Jimin sucks in a slow, pleased breath, a smile curling at his lips as he lays the weight of Namjoon’s length across the palm of his hand, looking it over. The chill of the steel beneath him is nothing compared to the iced shiver that runs through him upon being inspected in his most private area. Second most private, he corrects. Baby steps.
“I suppose,” Jimin declares finally with a sigh, “this should do. Not winning any awards, though, is it?” Namjoon’s cheeks burn with shame at the comment even as his face scrunches up in disagreement. If there was one thing to be proud of physically, it was that he could always bring his partners pleasure with the equipment he grew into.
Jimin sees the unfiltered reaction on Namjoon’s face and suddenly claps his free hand over his mouth, turning away. The giggle, impish and delicate, doesn’t get as muffled as he probably intended. “Dammit,” he mumbles, “stop being funny, that’s not fair.”
Namjoon blinks, still stark naked and hard as rock beneath the clothed and chuckling dom. “...Apologies,” he says after a pause, “but do you want to- um- are we-”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jimin says, clearing his throat and wiggling the muscles in his cheek to force the smile down. His fingers reach nimbly for the straps that hold his set of overalls on, and undresses down to skin as he takes some deep breaths as if to hype himself back into character. Once he’s done, he swings a leg over the metal bench and straddles Namjoon’s thighs with a swiftness that takes his breath away.
While it may take Jimin a second to slip back into his dom headspace after the break in mood, all Namjoon needs is the feeling of Jimin’s plump ass cheeks settling onto hs lap and he’s being smacked in the face with submission, ready to beg to feel it more intimately.
Jimin doesn’t wait for him to beg, however, rolling his body forward and down, all the way until their cocks are pinned together between their stomachs, and their noses bump. Close enough to kiss, Jimin stays right there, a breath away, and Namjoon freezes, unsure if he’s allowed to close the gap.
Pleased with the restraint shown, Jimin smirks, eyes wandering over Namjoon’s face in pure bemusement, slightly cross-eyed with their proximity. “Most toys can’t kiss back,” he mentions, a hand sliding up Namjoon’s forearm and shoulder to thumb at his jaw, tilting his head back and holding it in place, “so I figure I might as well treat myself.”
“Most?” is the final worried exclamation Namjoon manages to get out before lips are descending on his, and heat erupts.
There’s no way Namjoon could keep up. Not when his face is pressed tightly to Jimin’s, lips nipped at, tongue sucked at, and mouth thoroughly explored. Not when every inch of his front is pressed to Jimin’s, the latter’s nipples hard against the soft, relaxed flesh of Namjoon’s chest. Not when he becomes aware of slow rocking, Jimin grinding their cocks together.
It takes him an unknowable eternity of this to realise that the slow, indulgent groans passed between them aren’t all his, and that Jimin’s shifting motions are brought on by the way he’s reached behind himself with a finger slick with their shared spit, working himself open.
It’s that realisation that becomes the last straw for any of Namjoon’s reserves. He feels so - so passive, not even prepping the man who’s about to take his cock. He’s lying on unforgiving steel, body used as a grinding post and mouth deeply plundered, just a mindless toy, dumbed down to pleasure and need. He isn’t even really aware of his own body where Jimin isn’t touching it; he isn’t too sure where in space his hands are, or what his feet are doing. His lips are for Jimin and his cock is for Jimin and that’s enough to make him light-headed.
When Jimin sits up, Namjoon grunts a bit and fights for some clarity to help line himself up against Jimin’s awaiting body, but the dom just tuts and rebuffs the advances, suiting himself. Part of his weight is on Namjoon’s right shoulder as he props himself up, slowly bearing the rest down so that the head of Namjoon’s cock pushes inside.
The moan that leaves Jimin’s mouth is enough to make Namjoon’s bones shake, wishing he could hear it on repeat, and the dom certainly seems to be doing his best to make it a reality with the enthusiastic way he works his hips down in tight circles, clenching around the intrusion.
Namjoon feels like he’s floating, the hard edges of steel no longer grounding him. He doesn’t lift his hands up to hold onto Jimin, he doesn’t fuck up into him, he’s barely even looking at him with how low his eyes are lidded, but there’s liberation in that inaction.
The pressure to perform is entirely lifted, and he feels the pleasure twofold, once from his own sensation and then again like an echo with every sigh and groan that leaves Jimin’s lips.
The dom has the stamina of an athlete, lifting a leg up onto the metal base beside Namjoon’s hips to gain better leverage, and Namjoon has a front row seat to the way the muscles in Jimin’s thighs flex. They’re corded and thick, such an erotic contrast to the softness of his ass, and Namjoon feels drunk off of it.
He lets Jimin take what he wants, and he feels, and that’s all.
He doesn’t even think, not really, nothing deeper than mindless observation.
Jimin is beautiful, like nobody he’d seen before, and the lack of makeup and unstyled hair certainly doesn’t change that. It’s a reminder that he’s real, and that he’s sharing this experience with Namjoon. He sits up, leaning backwards with a hand on Namjoon’s knee instead of his shoulder, and the first time he plunges down, his whole body is wracked with a violent tremor.
“I’m close,” he pants outs, eyes flicking down to Namjoon, a lazy grin appearing momentarily, onto to be knocked off by an expression of pure euphoria as he swaps the bouncing out for grinding. He rocks his hips back and forth, Namjoon buried deeply inside, and seeks out his own end irrelevant of the body that cock belongs to.
Namjoon doesn’t care, loves the near out-of-body experience he’s having, and wills the pleasure to simmer long enough for Jimin to come first.
When Jimin gets really close, he loses some of the fluidity in his movements and becomes jagged, seizing up more and more until he’s stock still, breaths staccato and mouth wide open. The physical release follows soon after, and Namjoon shudders as hot white paints the underside of his chin and his chest.
Jimin has a hand around himself, tugging out every last drop as he sucks in desperate lungfuls of air, slowly curling in on himself until his burning forehead is on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, chest heaving.
Namjoon reaches his end without even noticing. The pleasure throughout his whole body is so electric that an orgasm is barely a notch higher, more so a spreading warmth throughout his body. Wet where Jimin’s still joined to him, and damp everywhere else with perspiration, but it’s blissful nonetheless.
Jimin heaves himself back upright after a brief interlude, brows furrowed as he glances down at Namjoon. “Did you- oh,” he remarks, shifting a little and seeing the cum that’s split around the base of Namjoon’s cock. He lets out a deep sigh, eyes slipping closed for a moment as he tips his head back. “Okay, bye-bye dom.”
Namjoon’s mind slips back into awareness at a snail’s pace, feeling first the way his throat has dried up a little and his jaw hurts from clenching his teeth. Then his voice comes back to him, and he coughs a little, blinking up at the dom above him. “Does dom have a return date by chance? That was… fucking incredible,” he admits.
Jimin laughs, the action causing him to clench around Namjoon. With playful fingers, he reaches down and lightly pinches the fat of Namjoon’s cheeks. “You’re too cute,” he declares, before lifting himself up and off, clicking his tongue at the rush of wetness that drips down his legs. “Far out, it’s like you haven’t nutted in a year.”
Namjoon feels his cheeks heat against his best intentions. “That’s just normal.”
Jimin sends him a sharp look, searching his face. “Holy fuck,” he muses, stalking over to the nearest station to raid a small drawer of wet wipes, “and you’ve been letting that beast sit out in the cold every night instead of coming in here? Masochist.”
It takes all the energy left in his body to sit up, but Namjoon gratefully accepts a fresh wad of wipes and begins to clean himself off. “The beast doesn’t pay the bills,” he quips, already feeling more casual with Jimin after their intense shared experience.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to enjoy its company on your free time,” Jimin offers up, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze with what appears to be a shy streak as he dresses himself.
Namjoon smiles, appreciating the gorgeous sight of Jimin’s body before he covers up. Appreciating even more the way he feels so comfortable in his presence, enough to let go the way he did. “I’d like that.”
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Summary: You’ve been overworking yourself, so Hoseok makes an enticing proposal about how to finish off a rough week.
a/n: I’m back momentarily to post this story I finally finished for the ARMY for AAPI event by @armyadvocates. This is a commission for an anonymous donor who requested it on behalf of their ARMY friend. I hope you enjoy!
Hoseok’s in his yoga gear when you drag yourself through the front door. The flimsy tank top that hangs off his body by literal threads and the short-shorts in green. But you are so done with the day that you don’t even have the energy to appreciate his toned, long legs stretched out to the end of the mat. You drop your bag, trudge right past his cheerful greeting, and start to tug your bra out of your top before you are even in the bedroom.
The bed doesn’t even feel inviting when you flop down onto it before groaning into the pillow.
Today sucked.
Well, the week sucked.
Maybe the month?
Everything had gotten too much, and it’s your own fault. Tax season is absolute hell, and it has you wondering what life would be like if you were an “accountant” and not a real accountant everytime one of those tiktoks came through your scrolling. It seemed like no one knew what they were doing, and anyone who did was leaving you to help out the newbies. Forget the fact that you have your own work.
And to top it all off, you had struggles with what could only be considered extracurricular work because your dumbass decided to continue participating in the sorority’s chapter functions from your alma mater. And somehow, sorority drama always coincide with the worst part of tax season. And these girls seem to be as helpless as your coworkers, putting you in the middle of things.
You groan into the pillow again, kicking your feet like it could relieve some of the stress you’d put on your own shoulders.
“Wow, that’s some killer lion’s breath,” you hear from the direction of the door.
You stop fussing long enough to mumble into the comforter, “Everything sucks.”
Hoseok hums knowingly. “That bad, huh? Lots to do?”
With a groan, you roll over. He knows you too well, that you are in this situation because you keep taking on work. You give him a pitiful look, which isn’t hard since it is how you feel.
Hoseok shares the look empathetically. His chin is propped on the edge of the bed, sweaty hair a mess from bending through all his yoga positions, eyes wide and shining underneath the bangs. He looks adorable, and you feel like trash. Your clothes feel suffocating as your workload and your skin feels thick from lack of sleep and too many takeout lunches.
“The next time someone asks me to do something, tell me to say no.”
“Why me?” He asks, head tilting to the side.
“Because I always listen to you,” you continue, flopping onto your back. Your body is so heavy with exhaustion, you don’t know if you’ll be getting up for the rest of the evening.
But before you stare at the ceiling, you catch the darkening of Hoseok’s expression at your words. He sighs, and you feel the bed shift as he sits next to you. “How can you be so sexy even when you’re stressed?”
“Sure,” you scoff.
“Laid out like this, telling me to order you around,” Hoseok murmurs to himself. The back of his fingers lightly trace over your arms, down the side of your waist, to rest on your hip.
You’re exhausted, but your lips tug into a small smile. He’s got one of those teasing smiles on his face, but there’s something darker in those eyes that roam your body. You want to entertain him, but your body fights against you, refusing to give up the slight reprieve of laying in bed.
So you take his hand, close your eyes, and sigh deeply. “I know it’s six, but let’s go to bed.”
“Hmm…” When he doesn’t continue, you peak an eye open. His bottom lip juts out as he rubs his chin. “This looks like more than I can handle, mi princesa.”
You push up on your elbows, feeling your heart sink. You don’t want to worry him, too. “No, babe. It’s fine, I’m just--”
“I think,” Hoseok starts before you can finish, tapping his lips thoughtfully until you close your mouth. “I think we might need to enlist some backup.”
Your heart immediately rises along with the blush on your cheeks. “Backup?”
“Mhm,” Hoseok nods, watching your interest closely. “Think we might need to go find someone to help us take care of you.”
“Take care of me?” You whisper, feeling your mind get hazy at the thought. That’s what you need right now. You can feel it in your bones, your skin when Hoseok reaches out to stroke the back of your hand.
“What do you say I dress you up all pretty and go find something just as pretty to pair with you?”
You can’t help the giddy smile spread over your face as you nod. Hoseok’s offering to take control for the evening, and you will give it gladly. All of it.
“Really?” You ask again, feeling your senses revive again at the thought.
Hoseok nods with his lips pursed. He leans over you, planting a loud kiss on your forehead. “Yes, really. If that’s what you want. If you aren’t too exhausted.”
It sounds like he’s making fun of you, but it’s genuine. And you know this will end in a kind of exhaustion you are more than willing to deal with. An exhaustion that leaves the rest of you restored.
“Yes, please,” you say, smiling sweetly.
Hoseok smiles back, but it’s different. It’s that smile that hurts in the best way. Makes you feel a little nervous even after all these years.
“Okay, princesa,” Hoseok purrs, tracing a finger over your lips. “Then tonight, you’ll be my doll.”
“Okay,” you agree, feeling his thumb bump your upper lip.
“Ah-ah,” Hoseok tuts, but he leans in for a kiss. It’s soft, chaste, and not enough. You follow him when he pulls back, but he holds you down. “Dolls don’t talk. Dolls don’t move. They look pretty and are handled however I please.”
Your legs twist beneath him involuntarily. You go to say yes, but nod instead. Hoseok’s pleased smile has your cheeks burning.
“Tonight, I’m going to take care of you. We’re getting rid of all that stress, doll,” Hoseok lifts himself off the bed and to the closet in one motion. He continues to speak as he starts looking through the clothes. His voice is cheerful as he continues, “You will speak only when spoken to. You will only do as you are commanded. Dolls are just pretty things to be used, do you understand?”
He glances over his shoulder, and you nod again. It feels weird, like you should be upset he’s taking your voice from you, but… it’s not. It’s what you need. In a day where everyone is asking more, more, and more of you, where you are constantly being told to answer and instruct, it’s nice. You close your eyes as you hear him rifling through things, enjoying the way your lips rest together, wordless.
“Sit up,” Hoseok orders. When you open your eyes, he’s holding up one of his favorite dresses on you. He loves the way it fits your curves, how it looks like you are bursting out of it, so much of you for him to devour.
You do as you are told and reach to pull off your blouse. The click of his tongue has you pausing. “What did I say earlier?”
Your hands pause, and you glance up. He waits, and you know you need to answer. “Dolls don’t talk and…” you blush, “and they don’t move.”
“That’s right. No moving unless I tell you to. Now, are you going to follow orders while I dress you up?”
You nod, averting your eyes. There’s something oddly intimate about Hoseok taking your clothes off not to ravish you, but to reassemble you. His hands are just as soft as they pull the shirt over your head, shimmying your legs out of the pants. When his knuckles knead into the back of your shins, you can’t help the sigh that comes out.
“That’s right,” Hoseok coos. “Gotta relax these legs before I put you in some heels.”
You giggle a bit at that. Hoseok loves fashion. This isn’t the first time he’s dressed you, just not literally. Actually, he has probably approved or bought most of what’s in your closet. The perks of a boyfriend who runs a fashion blog on the side.
Your mind wanders between topics as Hoseok slips you out of your underwear, pulling one of your red lingerie sets out of the drawers to match the dress. You aren’t even hyperaware of yourself as he clasps the bra behind you, lost in thought from the opportunity to let your mind rest. It isn’t until he commands you to stand that you feel your legs shaking.
You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder, looking down. You watch as he steps your feet through the red lace, his fingers tracing your legs in a teasing touch as he pulls them up to your waist. He watches his work, and his hot breath brushes your core as he sets them in place. Finally, he looks up at you, gaze focused, as he leans forward to kiss the small bow in the middle of the waistband, teeth catching on it before he lets it pop back into place. You are embarrassed by how loud your gasp is.
“I like you like this,” Hoseok muses, standing again to grab the dress off the hook.
He turns, opening the dress for you to step into it. He turns you then, grabbing the zipper that sits above the hem of the panties. He leans in, his body almost flush to yours as he plays with the circular hook on the zipper. His lips brush your ear as he starts to zip it up. “Relaxed, pliant, that look on your phase that’s a little fucked out already.”
Your breath catches at his swear. You only heard him talk like that in the bedroom. And for a fleeting second, you wonder if you are even going to make it out of the bedroom. But the sun was setting in the window, and Hoseok was stepping back, telling you to turn around.
He hadn’t stepped too far back. As you turn, your shoulders brush his chest, and there’s not much room from where the backs of your legs hit the bed. He stares down at you, noses almost touching. His hands reach, and your eyes closed, waiting.
But his fingers simply run through your scalp, scratching lightly as he fluffs out your hair. He takes a step back, smirk on his face, as he fan it around your face. “There we go. Prettiest doll I’ve ever seen.”
You glance behind him in the mirror. And you do look great. Hoseok always knows what fits you best, truly dresses you to emphasize, well, you.
He goes to dress himself, slicking his hair back with a little bit of product. He shrugs off the tank top, and you admire the slim curve of his back as he throws a dress shirt around his shoulder. He pulls on white slacks, buttoning them as he turns his face side to side in the mirror. His undercut to deal with the summer heat draws attention to the stacked part in his hair that leaves his side profile striking. When he turns around, you are shocked by how dangerous he looks dressed in an innocent color like white.
“C’mon,” he holds his hand out, dropping your black heels in front of you. “Let’s go find us another toy.”
In the car, Hoseok keeps a loose hand resting on your thigh, right below where the dress ends. He taps the wheel happily with his other hand, occasionally throwing glances at you when you stop at the lights. It’s a quiet car ride, but you don’t feel the need to fill it. Instead, you are wondering what awaits you. The pads of Hoseok’s fingers tighten on your skin whenever he makes a turn. The city lights dance on as the sky deepens to violet.
“What do you want, princessa?” Hoseok finally asks, pulling up to a bar you all attend at celebrations. You didn’t realize at first, the fanciness of your outfits. But now you realize he’s spoiling you.
You turn to him, though, unsure what he’s asking.
“Any preferences?” Hoseok clarifies, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.
“Ah,” you say, finding your voice a little foreign after over an hour of silence. “I’m good.”
Hoseok’s smile tugs at the corner. “Yes, yes you are.”
You blush at that. “Oh, no, I--”
Hoseok leans forward, the hand behind your ear clasping your neck to kiss you. It’s messy and hard, taking you off guard. But you settle into it, following the motions of Hoseok’s lips, the press of his tongue as he swallows down your moans.
When he pulls back, he smiles bright and practically sings, “Then I’m going to watch for whoever can’t take their eyes off of you.”
You nod a little breathlessly before Hoseok’s hopping out of the car, a pep in his step, and opens your door. He takes your hand to guide you out of the car, and you can’t help but be a little amused at how much he is enjoying himself.
Hoseok likes control. You’ve known it since your first date. The unknown makes him nervous. He’s practiced yoga for decades for the control and awareness of his body. His appearance is immaculate due to his interest in controlling how others see him. Even in his day job as a dance instructor, he’s in control of the flow of bodies, the beat and response. For him, it’s how he can relax.
And for you, it’s the total opposite. Control is thrust in your face all day long, and you want to recede into the confines of rules. You don’t want the weight of making the decisions, calling the shots, negotiating, organizing. You did too well at what you were told to do, which is what you liked, and ended up on the other side.
With Hoseok, you can relax. You can work off the vibe he wants to set, which is always positive. You can follow his lead, which has never guided you off course. You can trust and let go with him.
So you do so. You let your shoulders relax and be guided by Hoseok as he saunters up to the entrance of the bar lounge. You squeeze his hand once as you step inside, giving him a thankful smile when he turns a raised eyebrow in your direction. He simply smiles as bright as always, a giving a playful wink as he heads to the bar.
The lounge is subtle in its glamour. There’s low lighting and plentiful seating spaced out across an open concept. The bar is carved wood, sitting in the middle so guests can approach the tower of liquor and wines from all sides. But upon closer look, it’s obvious why Hoseok enjoys this place with his expensive tastes.
Your reflection is almost a mirror in the shined surface of the bar, always wiped down by staff in attire that barely has a crease in the sleeves despite the hours of working. The seating that’s strewn about is filled with plush, understated chairs and loveseats, sitting on plush, red carpet that always looks brand new. The room should be filled with the chatter of all the attendees who are also dressed for a good night out, but the soundproofing of the ceiling and the decorative chandeliers that should appear gaudy but somehow accent the simplicity of all that’s below keep the space feeling intimate.
You and Hoseok are much the same as he seats you at the bar. His white shirt and slacks contrast your red dress, yet he bends into your every move as he flits about you. His hand slides down your back as he chats with the bartender and laughs at his own joke. He leans over your shoulder as he grabs one of the drinks before he slides into the seat next to you, placing it in your hand.
“Drink up, you deserve it,” he says with the slight hint of a pout creasing his brow. You nod, letting the syrupy drink perk up your spirits. Without noticing, sitting down and gazing around the place had let the exhaustion from the week start to settle in. Hoseok watched as you took another sip, hand casually rounding over your thigh to keep you present with his teasing touch.
“Still feel like having fun?” He asks, then corrects, “staying home will be just as fun for me.”
You shake your head. “No, sir, I’m fine.”
Hoseok’s eyes darken at that, his lips parting at your appeal. Sir, it’s not a name you usually bring out without his instruction. But you can tell in his gaze that’s getting harder and harder to hold that he’s excited by the call.
The hand on your thigh grips a bit tighter, shifts a bit higher, and you steady the glass in your hand as he leans forward, “Keep talking like that, looking like this, and I’m going to have a hard time sharing you with anyone else.”
You shiver as his breath tickles your ear. He sits back with an impatient sigh and starts to scan the place. “Time to play.”
You try to sit a little taller, pulling your elbows back as you take another sip of your drink. Hoseok keeps his eye on you, but he continues to watch the bar. After a few minutes and ordering his own drink, he leans in again.
With a tilt of his head, he asks, “How do you feel about blonds?”
“Blonds are nice.”
“This one’s really nice,” Hoseok tries to hold back his smile. He wants to feign casual conversation with you. It makes your heart race, like the prospect could be close. You turn more towards him, but he stops you while still looking over your shoulder. “Why don’t you take a sip of your drink, princessa.”
You glance down at the ice in your glass, not quite sure what he’s getting at. You bring it slowly to your lips and close your eyes. Licking the wet droplets off your lips, you set it down.
“He liked that,” Hoseok murmurs, starting to withdraw his hand from your thigh. Then suddenly, “Oh?”
You want to turn and see this mystery man, but Hoseok continues to hold you there. You pout, close to breaking your oath of silence.
Hoseok relents, adjusting the opening of his shirt. “This may be easier than I thought. I think he likes me, too.”
You snort. Hoseok had an overwhelming cockiness when he was in a comfortable space. You could see it oozing from the proud, upturned frown on his face as he brushed off his slacks to stand.
His fingers dance across your shoulders before he whispers, “Wait right here.”
As he walks away, you finally have the chance to sneak a peak.
Oh.
Standing on the far end of the bar is the only blond. The bleached hair is striking in the low light and contrasts with his black suit. Hoseok makes his way over, so the man stares deliberately forward. He flexes his philtrum, plush lips rolling as he considers something in the tower of beverages. Even from here, you see a blush on the tips of his ears.
He knows he’s been caught staring.
Hoseok says something, and the man’s nerves vanish as he breaks into a casual smile. Hoseok’s stance stiffens, which makes your stomach flip. He is also interested.
The blond is taller, leaning back on the counter once he realizes Hoseok is there for conversation. His stance is inviting as he makes Hoseok laugh, who slaps the counter in good fun… then leaves his hand there.
It was bold. Hoseok leans on the bar, close to the man, so close that he has to hold his drink to his chest. The stranger’s broad shoulders somehow shrink against Hoseok’s prowess. The sharp edge of Hoseok’s profile parallels the other’s soft cheeks swollen with a smile.
And then, they glance your way. You startle but smile. The blond blinks, and Hoseok smiles wider. He whispers in the other’s ear. The blond’s cheeks start to match the plush carpet under your bar stool as his eyes wander down what he can see of you.
He nods.
You bite your lip from squealing, and the stranger’s eyes dart away. Hoseok’s hand moves from the bar to the man’s waist, and his body shifts into his as he leads him over to you. He’s snared by Hoseok.
He’s having trouble holding your gaze as well. You could see the slight clench in his jaw as he continues to drink in the vision of you. Hoseok guides him to stand next to you, him on the other side, leaning an elbow on the bar.
“This is Seokjin,” Hoseok introduces with a clap on his shoulder.
Seokjin nods after jumping from the touch. His dark eyes finally meet yours, and a light voice greets, “You can call me Jin. Nice to meet you.”
You nod, unsure if you are allowed to talk. The gleeful look on Hoseok’s face says no.
“I’ve explained to Jin what we are looking for,” Hoseok continues, “and he’s interested.”
--
That brings you here, hands in your lap, waiting for what’s next. Jin sits across from you in the arm chair, posture stiff with nerves. Still, he smiles when you catch his eye.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Hoseok calls from the kitchen. You hear the sound of ice clinking into a glass or two followed by the slush of liquid. “My favorite little doll. All dressed up.”
“She’s beautiful,” Jin agrees. His eyes don’t leave you, and you shiver at the dissociation of not being addressed.
Footsteps have you sitting impossibly straighter as Hoseok hums. “Don’t I know it.”
There’s warmth behind you, the press of his body standing directly behind you. Hoseok reaches over you to hand Jin his drink, and you inhale his scent. It mingles with the fruitier scent of Jin’s cologne as he reaches for the drink, and your legs adjust at the thought of your skin being awash with both of them.
Chilly fingers have you flinching as Hoseok tucks your hair over your shoulder. “I dressed her up just for tonight.”
Jin takes a sip, eyes flicking up to Hoseok now. “You did a good job.”
Hoseok chuckles as his hand rests on your shoulder. “Yes. But you know, there’s an art to dressing someone. Because eventually, they’ll have to be undressed…” his fingers fiddle with the strap of your dress and you squirm. “And you should see how she looks underneath.”
“I’d love to,” Jin responds with another short answer. But as you watch him take another sip, you see the shake of his hand. You can’t help but smirk. It’s Hoseok or you or both of you. Something has those pristine features on edge. You feel powerful, even as a toy.
Hoseok seems to catch what you see, patting your shoulder as he walks around the couch. You expect him to sit with you, but instead, he walks on over to Jin. He plops down on his arm rest with an arm slung around the man’s broad shoulders.
It’s an interesting juxtaposition. The slim frame of Hoseok next to Jin’s larger body. He’s practically hanging off of him, but the carefree smile shows who has the upperhand as Jin clutches his glass with both hands.
“Seokjin,” Hoseok says, the endearing smile creasing his eyes. Jin startles at his own name, glancing at Hoseok who withdraws his hand and sits as respectfully as one can when perched on the armrest. “Are you still okay with this? I can play alone.”
Jin’s eyes widen, and with his head turned, you can see his adam’s apple bob in his strong neck which flushes pink. “Ah, no, I’m good.”
“You sure?” Hoseok checks, though now he reaches to brush the back of his hand across his cheek to point out the blush. When Jin’s lashes flutter, your stomach curls in anticipation. He’s been caught under Hoseok’s easy spell.
“No, I… want to do this, too,” Jin nods, eyeing you as well. “I’d love to.”
Hoseok pats his cheek, “Good boy.”
Jin’s breath catches. Hoseok’s smile grows, hand running into his blond hair as he leans in close. “You like that? Want to be a good boy?”
His cheeks burn redder, and you know it is too soon for it to be the alcohol. “Yes.”
Hoseok chuckles, looking absolutely delighted. Wrapping his arm back around him, he leans in to smoosh their cheeks together turned toward you. And it’s a lot, to have the gaze of two beautiful men. He points toward you. “See my beautiful princessa over there?”
He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes harden.
“I need you to be good for her tonight,” Hoseok says, voice low. “And she’s such a good girl herself, she makes it so easy.”
“I can do that,” Jin sounds breathless.
And just like that, Hoseok hops up, grabbing his drink from the coffee table. “Fantastic!”
He throws it back, letting the syrupy drink spill from the sides of his lips. Jin follows suit, trying to finish his drink quickly.
It was time to start the show.
Hoseok straightens up, cracking his neck. He takes a deep, steadying breath and orders, “Stand.”
You straighten at the command. You don’t expect Jin to do the same. Hoseok neither, if the laugh he lets out is anything to go by.
Jin blushes widely, going to sit, but Hoseok waves him over. “No, no, that was great. You are already doing so well.”
He turns to you. “Look, princessa, he’ll be so good for us.”
You smile at him, enjoying the fact that you don’t need to do more. Hoseok wraps his arm around his waist and pulls you close. “You see, Jin. She’s so obedient. Does whatever she’s told like a good little doll.”
He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “Spin for me, darling.”
Your breath shudders out as you grab the edges of your dress, placing your heels one over the other as you turn. When you make it around once, you don’t stop. He didn’t tell you to. You keep spinning, feeling both men take in your every angle. And with each rotation, you see the hunger in their gaze grow.
Stopping you as you face the kitchen, away from them, the featherlight touch of his fingers ghosts over and up your back. “Most dolls, you know, they have a string in the back.”
His finger hooks in the small zipper at the top of the dress. He tugs lightly, and it starts to descend down your back. “You pull it, and they make a sound.”
He stares down at you, eyes filled with excitement. “She’s strung so tight, and it’s our job to unravel her.”
Your knees weaken at that, especially when Hoseok pulls the zipper down a bit further, “One thread at a time. Think you can do that, big guy?”
Jin nods dumbly, hands unsure of how to busy themselves, desperate to be on you now.
But Hoseok doesn’t beckon him closer just yet.
“The sounds she makes, Jin…” Hoseok grips your chin and turns your face to him. Then, his hot breath ghosts over your neck. The wet heat of his tongue flattens along the column of your neck. Your breath catches in your throat, fingers gripping his shirt. Jin’s own hands twitch again, body leaning in towards the two of you, wetting his lips.
When Hoseok sinks his teeth in, you whine, lips parting in surprise. Jin’s do the same, entranced.
Hoseok straightens back up, looking between you two. Your cheeks burn at the pleasure, at being caught staring elsewhere, at the way Hoseok likes it.
“That’s your job, Jin,” he instructs and takes a step back. You feel cold, from the wetness on your neck to the lack of a body to hold onto. Hoseok seats himself on the closest armrest, looking between the two of you expectantly. “Pull her strings, make her moan.”
You eye Hoseok, remembering your earlier command. Only speak when spoken to. But he just nods. “It’s okay, mi princessa. Let him know if he’s doing good.”
Feeling your knees shake, you face Jin. As he steps closer, you’re surprised by just how much taller he is. You angle your gaze, not sure what to do.
But then you remember, you aren’t supposed to do anything. You are allowed and content to just stand there and await instructions. Hoseok is in control.
“Touch her, Jin,” he instructs.
“Anywhere?” He asks with a shuddering exhale.
“Awh, not even sure where to begin?” Hoseok coos from the couch, crossing his legs. You both look over at your boyfriend, pleased as can be with his two props. “Undress her.”
Jin’s cheeks darken and so do his deep, brown eyes. He swallows, and you try to do the same. Your mouth is dry, the back of your throat feeling sticky. You grip your hands tighter in the dress, nerves having you jittery.
You feel so wanted just as you are, standing here, doing as you’re told, with two men ready to ravage you.
Jin finally, finally touches you. He steps into your space, the distance gone as your red dress brushes his dress shirt, taut over his shoulders as he reaches behind you. Your eyes drift close as you inhale deep again. Something fruity.
And with the sense removed, your aware of the sound of his breathing, deliberately steady. The light scrape of his fingernails as he trails down your spine in search of the zipper. The loosening tug of the dress around your hips as the zipper dips lower, the only sound in the room.
Then Jin’s hands are tracing your arms, appreciating the soft skin and kneading just below your shoulders. Appreciating all of you that is his just for the moment. He slips his hands under the straps of your dress and takes a step back to watch it fall down your waist, a slight shimmy to get it over your hips.
“Wow,” Jin breathes.
Hoseok agrees with a pleased hum. You can imagine the smirk on his face, knowing his handiwork is being admired. It makes you stand taller, feeling beautiful in the outfit he’s chosen for you. The garter digs into your supple waist and the bra clings to your skin, and suddenly it all feels like you are wearing too much.
You want that gaze and so much more to cover your bare skin.
And Hoseok knows just as much, how you like to be smothered in affection and touch. He stands beside Jin now and leans over his shoulder to turn you towards the bedroom door. “Head on back to the bedroom, princessa.”
You take one step in front of the other, realizing your nerves are getting the better of you as you sway a bit. You want to turn back, see the look on both their faces. Are you imagining it, or do they like what they see?
That’s not an option, though. Not when you’ve been given an order. And tonight, that’s all you are. A doll that obeys every command. A plaything at their disposal.
“Look at that,” Hoseok admires, his voice still close, letting you know he’s there. “Isn’t she a sight?”
“Yes,” Jin’s short but breathy replies continue. They’re following close behind, observing the sway of your hips, the lines of your body shifting as you step into the room.
“She’s so fucking sexy,” Hoseok sighs like it’s almost too much to bear. A smile breaks over your face that you try to hold back as you reach the bed.
You turn and lower yourself to the mattress. Hoseok walks over to cup the side of your face, smiling down too gently for what is to come. His eyes still give way to the heat, the anticipation.
But he still asks, ever with your best interest in mind, “Are you ready, my pretty little doll?”
“Yes,” you startle at the sound of your own voice. You’d spent so long being quiet that it almost sounds foreign.
Hoseok’s smile broadens, his eyes creasing with delight. His palm slips to the nape of your neck, thumb brushing over the column of your throat. “Want to let Jin treat you like his favorite little play thing?”
Your eyes dart to the man still standing in the doorframe. His broad shoulder almost fill the space and block out the white light of the kitchen so the room is only filled with the warmth of your bedside lamps. His cheeks are still that light pink, but his lips are wet and parted. His gaze meets yours and the hunger sends a shiver down your spine.
“Yes,” you make sure you lock eyes as you consent to the night’s activities.
Hoseok waves Jin over. He towers over you, and the smallness is almost comforting.
“On the bed,” Hoseok instructs. As you scoot up the bed, Hoseok leans against the wall between the two of you. Jin watches you scoot back, hands at his side, chests rising and falling. Hoseok, on the other hand, crosses his arms, raising a tentative eyebrow. You stretch out on the bed, enjoying the tension between the two men.
Jin gets the hint, though. Hoseok isn’t the kind to repeat an order. He’s to be obeyed.
And Jin must catch the sternness because he lowers himself to the bed, crawling over you. His knees cage you in, palms on either side as he looks down over you.
“Hi,” he murmurs.
You smile up at him, almost giggling at the cuteness.
“Can I…” his eyes wander again, tongue wetting his lips. “Can I touch you?”
You bite your lip. “Yes.”
The permission from you seems to be all he needs. Suddenly, he’s leaning back on his heels. You almost follow before you break into a moan.
Two large, warm hands cup your breasts, kneading hard. The pads of his thumbs brush through the thin, lace fabric and your body arches into his touch.
“Nice work,” Hoseok muses from his place on the wall.
Jin moves then, hands dipping behind your back. The ease with which he pulls you off the bed is shocking, feeling light in his arms. He can handle you in a way that Hoseok can’t, his build letting him easily drag you off the mattress to unclasp your bra. As soon as it falls from your shoulders, he pulls you in close. The fabric of his starched dress shirt brushes your bare nipples.
But you want more, want his bare skin against yours. He doesn’t oblige, though, but what he gives you instead is so much more.
Wide eyes hesitate before yours, hot breath brushing over your cheek, before Jin’s plush lips take your own. It’s shockingly desperate and unexpected. The entire evening, he’d been tentative and unsure, following Hoseok’s every move. But now, with you bared before him and so close, it’s as though he can’t hold back. He lays you against the bed again, body molding to yours, tongue licking at your bottom lip.
This is where you want to be. Pliant and wanted, strewn out on the mattress below a man desperate to ravish you. You moan into Jin’s open mouth, tasting the sweetness of his drink at the bar and the bitterness of Hoseok’s whiskey as his tongue lathes into your mouth. Your knee drags up involuntarily at the feeling of his cock growing harder against your thigh.
“Fuck,” Jin groans as you whine against the sensation that’s good but not good enough.
“Help her out, will you?” Hoseok’s taunting voice comes from the sidelines. Your cheeks burn, forgetting his right there watching you act of your own accord. “She’s being so fucking needy, can’t you tell?”
Jin pulls back, embarrassment etched into his brow. “Sorry.”
His hands grip your hips to roll them against him as he mouths at your neck. Jin’s hands are larger than Hoseok’s, but his touch is gentler. The tentative nerves of encountering someone new. But he explores with confidence, warm palms gliding over the sides of your body. You exhale in contentment, feeling your body give.
It spurs Jin on, leaning forward. The wet press of his lips greets the center of your chest. When you arch into it, he mouths at your supple skin.
“He’s a tease, is he?” Hoseok’s voice breaks through the lust drifting over the bed. You turn your gaze to him as he walks over. His eyes are on you as he talks to Jin. “Look at the way he touches you. Such a gentleman.”
Jin also gives a glance to Hoseok, eyes dark beneath blond fringe and cheeks flushed still. He continues on when Hoseok gives him a small nod. “Don’t worry, she likes it.”
His fingers thread through your hair, and your eyes fall closed again. It’s already overwhelming, your temple meeting Hoseok’s thigh as he sits, the scratching to your scalp, the warm press of Jin’s body over you.
Hoseok’s hand tightens suddenly. You yelp, the tingle in your scalp shocking but delicious. “She likes it all, Jin. She’ll take whatever she can get.”
“Is that so?” You shiver at the dip in Jin’s voice.
“Your body’s gorgeous,” Jin whispers into your collarbone. You squirm in the sheets at the direct attention.
“Isn’t it?” Hoseok muses, too. You open your eyes again to see him staring down at you. The mischievous tilt to his smile doesn’t match the softness in his eyes. “My favorite little play thing.”
Caught up in Hoseok’s praise, the wet mouth on your nipple takes you by surprise. Even more, Jin scissors your other nipple with a surprising harshness. At the site of your blissed out expression, the heat in Hoseok’s gaze hardens.
“Fuck her, Jin.”
You moan at the command that’s not even directed at you. Hoseok’s usually patient. He takes his time in ways that leaves you aching for more even after he finally lets you have it. The fact that he’s already demanding his cock has your legs spreading wider, ready.
“See,” Hoseok nods towards your thighs when Jin sits back on his heels. “She wants it so bad. She deserves it, too.”
Jin scoots down your body, hands fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. “God, and I’ll give it to her.”
Hoseok hums delightedly. “Hear that, princessa? He’s going to fuck you so good.”
You smile, the lightest giggle dancing behind your lips as Jin’s grip in the hem of your panties tickles the soft skin by your hips. He drags them down slow, raising your legs as he pulls them off.
When your legs are free, they fall onto one of his broad shoulders. You cross them at the heel only to realize he’s so broad, there’s no need.
He wraps an arm around your legs, kneading at your calves as he shuffles over.
“Fuck, look at the two of you,” Hoseok breathes, hand stilling in your hair.
And you do. You glance down at your bare body, where it meets and follows the curves and strong arches of Jin’s own. And then you turn your gaze upward, where your boyfriend sits beside you fully clothed. A spectator, a director.
“Do you like what you see?” Jin’s voice asks quietly.
Hoseok doesn’t respond. Instead, he reaches forward, cupping the nape of Jin’s neck, and pulls him in. It’s messy, their tongues twisting between lips and behind teeths as Jin starts to melt, the grip on your legs slipping. You feel yourself slipping, too, at the sight of your boyfriend taking and taking from him and seeing Jin give and give.
They part, and Hoseok’s cheeks have finally reddened as he settles against the headboard beside you.
Wordlessly, Jin hikes your legs a little higher on his shoulder. Then, you feel the blunt head of his cock press against your wet core. He throws his head back immediately, moaning at the feeling of how wet you are after waiting for this all night. He pushes in, slowly at first, and the stretch has you grabbing at the sheets already. You can feel the head press further, your walls alight with sensation as he bottoms at. Even the slight shuffle of his hips for a better grounding has a whine seeping between your teeth.
“God, she’s going to come soon,” Hoseok chuckles. You feel embarrassed, but you relish the way he continues to look at you both.
Jin pulls back slowly, but the hard thrust he gives you takes you off guard. You cry out, and he does it again. Your eyes roll back, the sweet sensation and the jostling of his force. The pressure from the thrusts has your clit stimulated as your body twists.
Jin’s mouthing at the heel of your foot, and it’s so surprisingly sensitive, your toes curl.
But you lose control of what sensation comes where when Hoseok reaches down to twist one of your purt nipples. Your chest recoils but your back arches, undecided in where to focus. Everything feels good, so good, and you’re thinking about nothing but bliss, but arousal and a need for release.
It’s only moments before your groaning, jaw locked, feeling the heat rise from your core and flood over you. Jin’s thrusts don’t slow, an unpredictable pattern as he feels you clench around him, and the feeling of being fucked by someone who doesn’t know your body quite as well has the heat coiling hot and spurting in long waves.
It knocks the breath out of you. Only when you regain the feeling of your breath do you hear yourself whimpering against the girth of his cock against your sensitive walls.
“Shh,” Hoseok chides, a hand on Jin’s shoulder asking him to stop. “That was so good, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” you nod quickly, trying to catch your breath. Then, you look at Jin to reassure him. “So good.”
“My turn?” Hoseok asks, and despite the pulsing of your core, you already find yourself aching for me. You nod quickly again.
“God, you’re so good for us,” Hoseok leans over to kiss your forehead. “Think you can handle both of us?”
You nod again, lips loose but nothing coming out. You’d take them anyway.
“Flip her over.”
Your legs drop to the bed, and Jin’s large hands grip your waist. He kisses your shoulder as he leans in to lift you up and over. Your knees hit the sheets, but Jin takes the time to align them for you, lowering you down gently.
“You handle her so well,” Hoseok says, and you can hear a kind of gratitude in his voice.
“Like you said,” Jin responds, “she deserves it.”
“True, she took your cock so well,” Hoseok says. “Fat cock like yours, probably makes all the girls cry.”
“Not this one,” Jin’s voice from behind you sounds a bit bashful.
“Not yet.”
You groan at that, Hoseok’s hand tracing down your back to let you know where he is. But he gets off the bed.
“Come here.”
You turn, not sure who he’s talking to. But you feel the bed move behind you, and then Jin is standing in front of Hoseok. They take a moment, then Jin’s unbuttoning his shirt. As he opens each button, he places a kiss on the new skin exposed. He watches Hoseok who rests his hands on his bare waist. He unbuttons his slacks, letting them fall to the floor. Then, he’s tugging down Hoseok’s boxer briefs. Once free, his curved cock bobs next to Jin’s thick, heavy cock.
“If you’re going to fuck her again, might need a little help,” Hoseok says, and you can see his wink from here. Your heart swoops as your boyfriend drops to his knees. And your stomach drops when he finds your gaze, holds it, and grips Jin’s cock. He sticks out his tongue, opening his mouth, and takes Jin as far as he can. You see the squint in his eyes as he accommodates before they roll back, enjoying the taste of another man’s cocked soaked in your juices.
Your knees shake as you watch. Jin’s, too, from the looks of it. Hoseok pulls off after only a few sucks and spits onto the end of his cock, letting it drip from his lips and smears it down his cock. He stands, placing his finger under Jin’s chin to give him a chaste kiss. “There, that’s better.”
Jin doesn’t even answer, just dumbly nods as you would. Then both men are crawling back onto the bed. You feel their hands on your body, letting them know where you are, and you’re torn between leaning into Hoseok’s hand under your chin or back into Jin’s hips.
“Fuck her good just like last time,” Hoseok’s voice comes from above. You close your eyes as Jin’s cock traces between your folds, knowing that the new wet sensation is Hoseok’s saliva. And then Hoseok’s gripping your shoulders, lifting you onto your elbows. His legs dip wide, all those years of yoga paying off.
You whine as Jin presses in again, the sensitivity overwhelming but leaving you needy.
With a finger under your chin just like he’d done with Jin, Hoseok tilts your head to his gaze, which is hard to meet when his cock brushes your cheek. “Think you can take my cock while he fucks you?”
You don’t answer. You let your tongue hang as you search for Hoseok’s cock again, turning your head at awkward angles. He swears under his breath then guides you onto his cock. Jin slows to make the alignment easier, but the movement as you shuffle on your elbows has his cock pulsing inside you.
“Damn, look at you,” Hoseok murmurs. “Taking what you need. Sucking me raw and sucking him in.”
You moan, the heady taste of Hoseok’s cock filling your senses. Then you’re reminded of the cock between your thighs, firm hands on your hips, and everything mixes together again. The last touch is Hoseok’s hand under your throat, feeling his cock brush by.
Jin thrusts again, but slower, more steady, deeper. You choke on a moan and feel drool slip from your mouth and down Hoseok’s cock.
“Good, just breathe for me, princessa” Hoseok says in a low voice, rocking his hips slowly. You don’t need to do anything but breathe. They both move, holding you steady, and you let your jaw hang open, let your knees relax as Jin holds you upright.
They rock into you, cock rubbing the back of your throat and the other brushing your gspot. And you feel it coming again. You whine, whimper, and feel your elbows start to collapse as your next orgasm rocks through you, your clit pulsing against the lack of attention, your body moving forward away from Jin’s relentless thrusts only to choke on Hoseok’s cock. It’s so much, so good.
Then Hoseok’s swearing and coming. You feel the hot stickiness spill down your throat, probably taken by surprise at your attempts to swallow down air. It’s the sweetest kind of victory, to fill his load spill into your mouth involuntarily, to know you work him over that good. You lap it up, trying to swallow, to take him deeper, but it’s too much. Not when Jin jostles you forward, and your eager mouth chokes on the lack of air. You whimper, unable to catch a breath.
“Hey, hey,” Hoseok responds when you whimper and choke. He pulls out, but that’s not what you want. You feel half empty, in need of being overtaken, of being nothing but their doll.
“Please,” you finally speak on your own, voice raspy, and Jin groans at the need in your voice. You only now notice the soothing circles he rubs into your hips.
Hoseok strokes your cheeks, pulls your hair out of your face, and directs Jin once again, “Pull her up.”
Your brain feels dizzy as warm hands wrap around your waist and pull you up right. You gasp, pressed against Jin’s chest. His skin is damp with exertion, but you smell that sweet floral scent. And as Hoseok shuffles forward to be chest to chest as well, you take in his smell as well. It mingles around you, dizzying, and you drop your head to Jin’s shoulder with a sigh.
“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you?” Hoseok purs, grabbing Jin’s hands and repositioning them over your breasts. You moan as he takes the hint, kneading hard as he starts to thrust again. You whimper, the sensation almost too much now.
Hoseok cradles your face and wipes the tears spilling down your cheeks from deepthroating. “Can you give me one more, princessa? Cum for me one more time?”
You sob around your yes, body wracked with relief and the exhaustion starting to set into your bones in a warm, fuzzy kind of way. Hoseok kisses you as Jin picks up the pace. And the faster Jin goes, the more intense Hoseok’s kisses become. You’re pliant to his mouth, letting his tongue dip deep, moaning openly as you feel the two men take apart every part of your body.
And then, Hoseok’s mouthing at your jaw, down your neck, his hands moving lower, until his slim fingers scissor around your clit, close enough to have your hips bucking but not enough to make it sting.
And you hear moaning. You realize Hoseok’s kissing Jin over your shoulder, the other man’s thrusts becoming distracted, erratic. His grip on your breasts gets tighter, and Hoseok holds your hip to keep you in place as he rolls small circles around your clit. He’s so focused despite occupied with both of you, and you just let your head fall back, hearing the two men moan over your own gasps and whimpers, hot and sticky between them, and you cum again. It’s short, hot, and burns in the best way possible as you dig your fingers into Hoseok’s biceps for support.
Jin swears behind you, and Hoseok tells him he can come. It’s almost instant, and you feel his hips still just as your body starts to ride into overstimulation. He lowers his hands as he shivers, rubbing over your rib cage, Hoseok’s hands back on your face, wiping away more tears.
You don’t remember when you closed your eyes, but when you open them, you can’t believe how wrecked he looks. There’s a sated hunger in his hooded eyes, but his lips are red, hair mussed, chest still heaving despite coming before both of you. It’s a lot to take in, but you find your eyes falling closed again.
“Okay, come on,” Hoseok coos, and you realize he’s talking to both of you as Jin gently pulls out of you, and you fall forward onto Hoseok. He guides you down onto the bed, and Jin falls opposite you. Hoseok rolls to the bedside table, opens a bottle of water, and passes it to Jin for a sip.
Hoseok holds his hand to take the bottle back, but to both your surprise, Jin gently turns your face in his direction, holding the bottle to your lips for a drink. It’s refreshing, after the tears and the deepthroating and the exertion. And despite the crispness of the water, your chest feels warm at the endearment of the stranger. And when he tips the bottle back and hands it to Hoseok, you see the same feeling in his expression.
Hoseok settles in, throwing a leg over the both of you. Out of the scene, his easy going smile spreads across his face. “That was fun.”
You giggle, rubbing a hand over both the men’s hips as they turn into you. “Of course it was. Thanks for that.”
“Oh,” Jin starts, sleepy eyes opening.
You both look over, and he blushes. “I just… I haven’t heard your voice much and it sounds nice.”
Your face burns, but Hoseok’s laughing so hard the bed shakes. “Oh, I think he likes you!”
“I mean,” Jin blushes again, starting to sit up. “I just fucked you, so to some extent.”
“Awh, he’s being shy now, too!” Hoseok continues to giggle, but you note the awkwardness in Jin’s body language. Hoseok’s usually a good judge of social settings, but the postcoital bliss has him a little too carefree.
“I like your voice, too,” you try, but the compliment feels awkward. Jin gives an awkward smile to match, then moves to the edge of the bed.
“I guess I should, uh, go now,” he says. And it’s odd. There was a kind of excitement to his nervousness before but this feels different.
And you feel different. You and Hoseok have done this before, but this guy was… great. The best. There was something nice, from the way you watched them chat it up to how well he read your needs.
“Wait,” Hoseok says before you can. Your head whips around in mild surprise to hear it from him. Hoseok gives you a look, a question, and you nod. Always on the same wavelength, still. “I was going to order some wings. She always orders a ton but never finishes. Want to help out?”
Jin turns from where he faces away, his eyes a little too wide, a little hopeful. And something in it makes your heart twist. Hoseok’s grip on your waist tightens just a bit, too. Interest.
“You don’t have to,” Jin mumbles.
“I want to,” you chime in now. “Plus, that was way too short for cuddling. Now I’m cold.”
Jin snorts at that. Tension eases from his shoulders, and he rolls back over. Hoseok pulls him close, fussing over the both of you as he throws one of the blankets on top of your naked bodies.
And it’s new, but it feels familiar. A stranger in your bed shouldn’t feel so comfortable, but there’s something about the way Jin hums when Hoseok ruffles his hair and how he knows just where to fit his arm over the curve of your waist. It makes you want this again already.
Maybe you could. Especially when you roll over to see Hoseok’s mischievous grin back on his face. Maybe this will be something more.
➣premise: Kim Seokjin. The love of your life. Your boyfriend of three years. The man who insists on taking you to the zoo for every milestone in your lives together. There’s just one thing...you have no idea what you’re celebrating this time.
➣warnings/tags: fluff, SFW, we live for Jin in this household if you haven’t noticed
➣word count: 4.3k
➣commissioned by @delacyrose224 as a part of army for AAPI! thank you so much for requesting this, I loveddddd writing this little story. I’m so soft for this man. you always have the best ideas!!
“We look like idiots.”
“Yeah, well,” Jin shrugs, handing you yet another t-shirt to try on. “That can’t be helped.”
You gasp, snatching the shirt away from him and heading toward the fitting room. “Rude! I meant with all of these ridiculous clothes!”
Jin’s laughter follows you as you close the door and throw on what feels like the thirtieth gaudy t-shirt from the zoo’s souvenir shop. This one is vivid blue, which you suppose is an upgrade from the caution-cone orange Jin had you trying on a few minutes ago.
“Ok,” you call out, “ready?”
“Ready!”
Peeking out of the little room, you notice Jin sitting on the little sofa in the waiting area. He grins up at you, already wearing a matching shirt.
“Do you like it?” He asks, lips pouting out a bit as he waits for your answer.
Avoiding looking in the mirror for too long, you manage a feeble, “Yeah…it’s not as bad as the others, I guess.”
That’s all Jin needs to hear. With a clap of his hands he’s jumping up and herding you toward the front of the shop. You don’t miss the amused glances people are giving you and your boyfriend, who pauses to grab a couple of baseball caps.
“Let’s see…” he brushes some of your hair back before sliding the cap onto your head, stepping back to get the full effect. “Perfect. And, it’ll protect your scalp from the sun!”
Like a couple of walking mannequins, the two of you head up to pay for the clothes you’re now wearing. Jin has a backpack on hand for your other clothes, which you unceremoniously shove inside before zipping it shut.
The cashier offers you a wide smile as she assists with the transaction. You know what she’s thinking:do I pity or envy her?
Honestly, it’s a toss up. Of course, there’s the fact that Jin often makes you do ridiculous things (exhibit A, bright blue zoo t-shirts with roaring lions on the front and waddling penguins on the back), but then again, you don’t stop him.
Rather, you egg him on. There’s something just so adorable about the way he gets so excited for such simple things. And for today, it’s over a trip to the zoo.
Of course, you’re excited as well. Mainly to see the meerkats, which Jin will never let you live down. When you told him that the meerkats were your favorite animal, he stopped and stared at you for an unnervingly long amount of time. You had begun to wonder if you’d somehow upset him when he burst out laughing, claiming that he could see it.
“See what?” You seethed.
“The resemblance,” Jin choked out between laughter. “You’re basically a meerkat in human form!”
With a smack to his chest, you glared at him and said, “Yeah well…you’re a walrus! Yeah, a walrus!”
Needless to say, he was extremely offended and didn’t speak to you for hours. In fact, the only thing that had brought him out of his misery had been you dragging him to the souvenir shop and giving him permission to get whatever he wanted. That apparently included getting you some items as well.
“Ah, it’s such a nice day,” Jin remarks the second you step outside. His hand slips into your seamlessly, a testament to the countless times you’ve repeated the action. “Perfect day at the zoo.”
Indeed it is. The sun is shining, there’s a cool breeze licking at the nape of your neck, and there’s fewer people than you’d expected to be here on a day like today.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it’s Tuesday morning. It would appear that most people – the sane ones, at least – are busy with work and other weekday obligations. Neither of you are, though. Jin has a rare day off and he’d had the day circled on the calendar for well over a month at this point. You had made sure a long time ago to have this day off.
“When’s the last time you went to the zoo?” You ask, glancing sidelong at your boyfriend.
Perhaps it’s his undeniable good looks or the fact that you hardly get to see each other due to your hectic schedules, but you can’t help the little sense of wonder that comes over you as your survey him in the morning sun. Somehow, you really have no idea how he does it, he manages to pull off the shirt and hat. Sure, he looks silly. But he owns the look.
It’s a wonder that he’s yours.
“Hmmm…” Jin ponders for a moment. “I think it was the last time we went together.”
You gasp. “That was like…three years ago! You seriously haven’t been since?”
Laughing at your shocked expression, Jin shakes his head. “Nope.”
Three years ago, close to the time when the two of you had first started dating, Jin wanted to take you out on a special date to celebrate the beginning of your relationship. Without telling you where you were going, you had assumed there would be a nice restaurant, maybe some sort of play or whatever else it is that fancy people do when they first begin to date.
Oh, how wrong you’d been.
Assuming that just because Jin was…well, rich, you couldn’t be more wrong about his taste in dates. When he had parked in the zoo lot and led you through the entrance, you had been waiting for the punchline.
There wasn’t any. No, he had simply wanted to spend the entire day with you. Walking around, having an “excuse to hold your hand” in Jin’s words, and somehow making you believe that crocodiles’ tails could change color when it danger. (don’t ask)
“I still think that it would be so cool to live up there,” you point to the houses in the distance, overlooking the zoo. There was a neighborhood of stately homes just a little way’s away which the two of you had snooped on after your date to the zoo all those years ago.
Jin chuckles quietly. “What if a tiger escapes and ends up in the yard?”
You shrug. “I guess it makes for a good excuse to always keep a steak in the fridge. I’ll lure it away with that.”
“Absolute genius,” your boyfriend hums, making you scrunch up your nose at his obvious sarcasm. “So, where should we begin?”
“At the beginning?”
Laughing jovially (honestly, the best thing about Jin is the fact that he thinks you’re funny), the two of you set down a little path which will take you to a butterfly exhibit.
“Agh, I forgot how hot it is in here,” you mutter the second you step inside. Plants of all different shapes and sizes loom over and around you, home to several different kinds of butterflies. A few stray butterflies flutter overhead, making you temporarily forget the humidity of the greenhouse.
Jin ooh’s and ah’s over the bright yellow butterfly that brushes past him. “Did you see that? It nearly landed on my nose!”
“Aw, it recognizes a Disney Princess when it sees one,” you coo, earning a half-hearted glare from Jin.
“I thought we discussed this,” he grumbles. “I’m Flynn Rider.”
“Right. My bad. Who am I again?”
A giant grin splitting his features, Jin wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Mother Gothel, obviously.” The slap to his right butt-cheek echoes through the greenhouse, quickly followed by his yowl of pain.
Pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, Jin limps after you as you continue through the greenhouse.
“You’re lucky nobody was in here to see that,” he says. “They could send you away for treating me so horribly. I mean, look! I bring you to the zoo, I buy you a nice shirt, I let you choose where we go first-”
Whirling around to face your boyfriend only to find a knowing smirk already on his face, you glare up at him. He knows that he won.
“Yah! What do you want?” You ask, exasperated. Limping forward, clearly milking this for all it’s worth, Jin pouts down at you with big, brown eyes.
“Just one kiss.”
You gasp, feigning horror. “A kiss?! In this sweaty, public greenhouse?!” You frantically point at the butterflies which are your only witnesses in here. “In front of the innocent butterflies?”
Jin looks at you and shudders. “Wow. I think it’s official.”
“What?”
“We spend way too much time together. You’re impersonating me right now, aren’t you?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“Yeah. But I still stand by my condition.” Finally taking one final step, Jin towers over you. With a playful wink, he puckers his lips.
“Ugh, I hate you sometimes.”
Jin peeks one eye open. “You just said you loved me earlier.”
“Is it too late to change my mind?”
“Sorry, no refunds.” Then, taking things into his own hands, Jin cups your cheeks and swoops in for a kiss.
On your nose.
Sputtering as he steps away, you glare at him. “What was that?!”
Turning on his heel and heading toward the exit, you notice that Jin’s over-exaggerated limp is long gone. With a devilish grin over his shoulder, Jin says, “You were taking too long. But you still owe me a kiss, whenever I ask for it. No matter where we are or what we’re doing, ok?”
You can recognize a trap when you see one. However, you’re left with no choice. Grumbling out a “yeah, whatever” you follow after him.
After the butterfly exhibit you make your way to the reptile house, opting to get all of the hot and humid indoor places out of the way while it’s still morning. The Gila monsters make you laugh as Jin takes a video of the tongue flipping in and out of its mouth and sends it to Hoseok. The two of you know full well that the boy in question will no doubt scream in horror as he watches the video.
Hand in hand, Jin finally swerves off the path toward one of the final indoor exhibits: Animals of the Savanna.
Once you’re inside, you pull and tug at Jin until he’s relenting and allowing you to find the meerkats. To onlookers, you’re sure you look like a child dragging their disgruntled parent to and fro. However, once you spot the meerkats, any thoughts of maintaining your dignity in front of these people eddies out of your mind.
“Jin! Jin! Seokjin!” You hop up and down on the balls of your feet, completely missing the tender look Jin sends your way as you drag him closer. “Look at them! Woooow there’s so many! Aww and there’s little babies, too!”
Jin just hums along, smiling as he watches your wide eyes. You get as close as humanly possible, grinning at the creatures that occasionally look your way. Through it all, he maintains some sort of contact. Giggling without knowing what you’re laughing about. Just laughing for the sake of it.
He just…loves the zoo. Yeah, that’s it.
It had been a silly idea, to bring you here three years ago to celebrate the beginning of your relationship. In fact, you had looked at him like he was already bordering on crazy when he had brought up the idea of doing something special now that you had agreed to be his girlfriend.
“Don’t people usually do something special for anniversaries?” You had asked. Your hair had been longer then, a tell-tale sign of your youth.
Jin shrugged, completely under your spell without your knowledge. He found it nearly impossible to look away from you at times like these. “We can do that, too. Next year. But for now, why don’t we just celebrate the beginning?”
“Sure,” you mimicked his shrug, snuggling into his side on the couch. Despite his unaffected demeanor, he wondered if you noticed the way his heart was pounding as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I’ll do whatever, as long as it’s with you.”
So, after discussing it with his best friends, he decided to take you to a beautiful dinner looking over the Han river. There was a new restaurant that was outrageously fancy and delicious, and he wanted to treat you to the best.
When he arrived at your apartment that evening, just in time to hopefully catch the sunset on the Han if all went according to plan, he overheard you talking on the phone. Your window was open, and like the snoop that he was, he waited to listen in on your conversation.
He wouldn’t have it he hadn’t heard your mentioning his name.
“I don’t know what we’re doing tonight,” you admitted. You were quiet for a moment while listening to the other side of the conversation. “You think so? I don’t know, I’ve never dated someone like this. You know, like…rich. What do rich people do on dates? I’m a little out of my element here, I just hope I won’t make a fool of myself.” Your laugh had him hurtling to reality, and he realized in an instant that he couldn’t take you to that restaurant.
A part of him knew in that moment that you were going to be the rest of his life. You were it for him. And if you want something to last, you treat it differently.
A perfectly forgettable meal surrounded by gossiping netizens wasn’t what you deserved.
So what did you deserve?
That had been the question on his mind as he tried to hide just how sweaty his palms were when he knocked on your door.
“Oh, I think he’s here. I – yeah, I’ll call you after. Ok, bye.”
Seokjin has always been good at pretending that he has a plan even when he has no idea what to do. Which is exactly what he did. You had been absolutely adorable, bouncing in your seat as he set off down the highway, begging him to give you a hint.
When he’d seen the exit for the zoo, he turned down that road without a second thought. You looked utterly confused when he pulled into the parking lot, and little did you know that he was just as confused as you were.
He just prayed that you wouldn’t think he was the dumbest person ever for letting those reservations slip through his fingers for the fanciest restaurant in Seoul. Perhaps a date to the zoo wasn’t the right idea, perhaps it wasn’t romantic at all, perhaps-
Perhaps you were happiest with his hand in yours and a meerkat a few feet away from you.
He’s so tempted to cash in that kiss right now, with how adorable you look. But he bites his tongue, reminding himself that he has to save it for later.
Once you’re loved of meerkats is sated enough for you to be herded away, Jin leads you to a street vendor. “Eat up,” he says as he passes the bread cone filled to the brim with macaroni and cheese to your outstretched hands. He’ll never understand your love for the little abominations, but he caves and orders one for himself as well.
“Don’t you want to sit and eat it?” He asks as he spies you wandering off. You twirl around, licking the cheese off of your lips. And stupid as it is, his heart skips a beat.
“They’re gonna feed the penguins in ten minutes!” You respond, clearly expecting that to be enough of an explanation. Again you turn to wander away. You’re not worried about leaving Jin behind, though. His long legs catch up to you within a few seconds.
The two of you eat in relative silence as you watch the penguins waddling around. Once you’re finished with your food, you spend a good hour sitting in the amphitheater watching the penguins and wondering which ones the two of you would be.
“I’m that one,” you point to a particularly fat penguin attempting to get out of the water. “That looks like me trying to get out of my chair whenever I eat.”
Jin nearly chokes on his water at your remark, squinting at the penguin that has yet to be successful in getting out of the water. “How pitiful. Oh, that’s me.”
Another penguin appears on the ice, looking down at the fat one.
“Oh, have you come to rescue me?” You ask, sitting forward and resting your chin on your hands. Jin immediately begins massaging the small of your back, knowing that it’s a troublesome spot for you most days.
“Probably- oooh down he goes!”
The two of you burst into a fit of laughter as the penguin pears down into the water only to lose its footing and slip in alongside the previously struggling penguin.
“Yeah, that’s us,” you confirm, still laughing.
“Definitely us. We’re a mess most days.”
You lean back, taking up your usual spot on the crook of his shoulder and resting your hand on the inside of Jin’s knee. “At least we have each other.”
You say it with a teasing tone, but Jin can’t help the way it goes straight to his heart. Sneakily planting a kiss atop your baseball cap, he squeezes you a little tighter. “Yeah, that’s true. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“Probably still on land,” you remark slyly, peeking up at him. With slightly pink cheeks and zero hesitation you utter out, “I love you.”
He’ll never get used to you.
“Love you, too.”
From there you head over to the polar bears, which appear to be largely unimpressed by your presence. Jin drags you to see the hyenas, sporting some strange interest in the creatures. It only makes sense to sit and stare at the large tigers after that, your mouth ajar as you marvel at its size.
Then it’s the elephants and rhinos.
“Ugh, it smells like your fridge that one time,” you joke the second to get a whiff of the rhino’s habitat.
“It does not!” Jin shouts, drawing the attention of some of the other visitors. “My fridge smelled much worse.”
You can’t help but cackle at his remark. “I stand corrected.”
Toward the end of your visit you pass by to visit the monkeys. “If you squeeze my hand any harder, it’ll fall off.”
You try and fail to relinquish your grip. “Sorry, they just freak me out.” As if on cue, a monkey swings by in front of the tall glass window, making you jump and squeal in terror.
“Should we leave?” Jin questions, hiding his laughter.
You bury your head in between his shoulder blades, squeezing your eyes shut. “No, just go fast.”
He does just that, speeding through the exhibit until he’s announcing that you’re nearing the end. Slowly you look up, blinking at the now dark sky.
“Have we been here all day?” You ask in wonder. Checking the time, Jin nods.
“Yep. It’s about time to head home.”
Languidly making your way back up the path to the zoo entrance and exit, you swing your hands back and forth. “That was so fun.”
Jin raises his brows. “Really? I thought you were a goner back there with the monkeys.”
Faking a shiver, you revel in the way Jin falls for it and automatically pulls you in closer. “I thought I was, too. But I just thought of the meerkats, and I made it through.”
Snorting, Jin waves goodbye to a few of the staff members the open the gate for the two of you to leave. “Is that so? It had nothing to do with your big, strong, boyfriend protecting you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Oh really.”
“No. Why? Did you think we had something going on?”
Rolling his eyes, Jin bumps you with his hip, making you giggle. “If not, this has been the most dedicated friendship I’ve ever experienced.”
“Dude, you have six best friends-”
“Ok, first you say I’m not your boyfriend, and then you stoop so low as to refer to me as dude?!”
Your laugh rings out loud and clear in the evening air, followed by Jin’s stupefied laughter. “You’re so dramatic,” you accuse, reluctantly freeing yourself from his grip as you near the car.
“Hey, you don’t get to judge me. It’s not like you’re my girlfriend.” Still bickering back and forth, Jin starts driving and heads off to the right instead of the left.
“Woah, where are we going?” You ask, frowning out at the night.
Jin shrugs. “Let’s go snoop around those houses again.”
“The ones by the zoo?”
“Yeah.”
You’re all too happy to go along with it. Clutching your hand atop the console, Jin maneuvers his way to the small hill overlooking the zoo.
“Wow,” you breathe out. “I forgot how beautiful this view is.”
Indeed it is. The city lights glow and glint in the distance, creating a warm blanket of familiarity. The zoo lights are shutting off, only a few left on here and there. The sound of music from floats up toward you as you roll the window down, drinking it in.
“The residents always hear the closing songs each night,” Jin supplies, somehow reading your mind as you wonder about the music coming from the zoo. “It turns off by ten on weekdays and eleven on the weekends.”
“How’d you know that?”
“I have some friends that live up here.”
You turn to look at Jin, eyes wide. “You do? How come you never told me?”
“They just moved,” he explains with a forgotten smile. “You wanna see their house?”
“Yes!”
Jin turns down a different street, slowly stopping before a beautiful home with colonial style columns in the front. Sure enough, there’s a sign in the front of the house with a red sticker stating SOLD for all to see.
“Should we look around the lot?” Jin asks, turning off the car and taking off his seat. “It looks like they’re not home right now, but they said we could look around if we wanted.”
“You told them we were coming?”
He shrugs, hopping out of the car and hurrying around to open up your door. “I mentioned that we’d be in the area.”
“Who are these friends of yours, anyway?” You ask, stepping out of the car. The house quite literally takes your breath away, and you turn around to capture the full view. The city is still visible, the zoo and its music appearing more like a memory than a reality. “Wow, this is amazing.”
“Uh,” Jin scratches the back of his neck. “Their names should be on the sign right there.”
Frowning, you ignore his avoidance of the question and skirt around him to walk up to the edge of the lawn. Crouching down, your eyes scan the sign for any names you might recognize. There’s a small paper, almost like a receipt, hanging from the sign. Smoothing it out from where it’s flowing in the breeze, you squint at the names that appear.
Sold to Mr. Kim Seokjin and –
You know that name. You know that man.
And the name beside his…
“It’s our names…?” You breathe out, not quite understanding. Straightening up, you turn to face Jin with a confused expression. “Why does it-”
There’s Jin, but he’s not where you left him.
He’s down on one knee, looking up at you with the expression he gets when he holds his breath. Behind him the city gleams as bright as ever, however it somehow dims in the face of what you see before you.
Jin, opening up a small box. And inside the velvety interior, a ring shining as though it were made of stars.
Suddenly, it clicks. The date to the zoo, where you’d first officially began this relationship. The house with your name on it, the way Jin had this day circled on the calendar for longer than you care to remember.
Jin can’t breathe, and he can tell by the way your chest has stopped rising that you can’t, either.
“I- I’d like to cash in that kiss now,” Jin stutters out.
In a rush of limbs and a mixture of laughter and sobs, you find yourself kneeling across from Jin and kissing him hard enough to bruise his plump lips. You’d feel bad, except for the fact that he returns the kiss with just as much fervor. When the kiss begins to taste of salt, you pull away to discern of those are your tears or his.
It’s both, you realize as Jin gazes at you, completely oblivious to the tears streaming down his cheeks.
“O-oh!” He exclaims, staring down at the ring box in his shaking hands. “Will you marry me?”
Without a single ounce of hesitation, you laugh, voice thick with emotion. “Yes!”
That’s all it takes for Jin to pull you in close again, attacking you with kisses at a speed you can’t keep up with. He pulls back, panting and eyes alight with pure elation. “And do you want to live here with me, then?”
You choke on a laugh, still crying and on your knees. “Of course I do, Seokjin. You- you bought me a house.”
“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I did.”
Then, gasping with wide eyes, Jin snaps his fingers. “I almost forgot!” Jumping up to his feet, he runs back to the car. You watch after him, too in shock to stand at the moment. Your glinting rings on your hand catches your attention, making you wonder when exactly he put it on. No doubt it was sometime in the midst of his breathless kisses.
Jin returns a moment later, dropping to his knees again. Nevermind the fact that there are plenty of places to sit. He has a lanyard around his neck, and he places another around your own.
“What’s this?” You ask, grabbing the little card hanging off of the end. Once you catch sight of it, you begin to laugh (and somehow cry) even harder.
➣ Pairing: apprentice!Jungkook x reader, art curator!Hoseok x reader
➣ Premise: You’ve been promised to Jung Hoseok for twelve years. You’ve never wanted anything else. Until now. (inspired by the song “Ivy” by Taylor Swift)
➣ Genre: arranged marriage au, angsty with some fluff, SFW
➣ warnings/tags: it’s a bit angsty, the reader is technically promised to someone else so it’s a little messy, general EmOTioNS, a bit intense/stalkerish but not too bad?? some fun fluff and banter as well, but Hoseok might kill a man and Jungkook will go down fighting
➣ word count: 12.2k *yeah, I know. this sucker is like 3 times longer than it was meant to be*
➣ a/n: this was a commission by @delacyrose224 for Army for AAPI! Thank you so much for requesting this awesome prompt, I literally had too much fun writing this. I swear, I could’ve made a whole series out of this. You guys, check out ways to get involved in this awesome cause by clicking the link!
The person staring back at you in the mirror is not you. Of that, you are certain. There’s no way you could ever pull this off – the silken layers, ivory making your skin glow with a dew-like complexion…
You voice as much. “I don’t even recognize myself.”
“Isn’t that kind of the point?”
Whirling around in a flurry of skirts and soft-to-the-touch fabric, you spot your betrothed lingering in the doorway.
“Hoseok!”
He chuckles, the sound making the corners of your lips tug upward. Taking in the sight before him, you can’t help but notice the way he chews on the inside of his cheek. Hoseok takes one hesitant step forward, crossing his arms.
“You should’ve seen me earlier,” he croons, voice always sounding like he’s a breath away from laughter. “I thought my dad had somehow teleported into the mirror.”
You wince. “Does this mean we’ve grown up?”
“Unfortunately.”
Twelve years of waiting for this. How have they already passed?
“You know,” Hoseok begins, dropping your gaze in favor of stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t even properly proposed to you, yet.”
“You should probably get on it.”
“Mmm.”
“Aren’t we getting married in April?”
He frowns. “Yeah, mid-April I think. It’s barely November, though. So there’s no pressure, right?”
You almost burst out laughing at his simple question. No pressure? Pressure has been your constant companion these past twelve years.
What else were you supposed to feel? Trying telling a thirteen year old that they’re already promised to somebody and then tell them “Oh, but no pressure.” Of course, they made sure to drop that little piece of pointless comfort after they mentioned who you had been promised to.
Jung Hoseok.
Three years your senior, he had seemed larger-than-life when you first met less than a year after learning of your pre-determined commitment to him. He’d been kind, that was your first thought. A little strange, a little loud at times. For your teenage self, that was fine.
Then things began to change. It was a rare occasion that you ever saw Hoseok; the two of you lived in different cities. However you distinctly remember one occasion in which you had unintentionally bumped into him while in search of your parents at their giant headquarters located in Busan.
It was easy to get lost in that building – you still can picture all the different nooks and crannies where different works of art were stored. The more valuable ones were of course under lock and key, however there were plenty of show rooms that you managed to get lost in.
You had done just that, taking a detour through the preservation room where several workers could be seen on the other side of the glass cleaning a timeless piece that had just been flown in from Austria. Once you realized where you were, you turned to leave. However, something caught your eye that made you hesitate.
There was Hoseok, perched on the edge of a stool as he leaned over the artwork. There was nothing particularly flashy about him that day, something you weren’t used to. In all your time of knowing him (four years at that point), you had never seen him in something other than formal wear. If it wasn’t some sort of suit or dress shirt, it was a sweater vest that he somehow managed to pull off.
This time, he was disguised in a white lab coat, holding a Loup to his eye in an effort to analyze the fine details of the painting. His brown hair was a little mussed, his knee bouncing up and down in the only outward show of excitement he portrayed.
One of the workers began speaking, the details of their conversation muted to your ears due to the glass separating you from them. However, you watched as Hoseok listened with almost terrifying focus before turning back to the painting and delicately taking a brush to the frame. No doubt dusting off some invisible smudge.
You had been frozen for a long moment, completely unfamiliar with this man. The Hoseok you knew was jovial and quick to laughter. He made you smile and roll your eyes. He put you at ease.
This man, with his precise flicks of the wrist and unwavering focus, was a force of nature.
You realized then, at the age of seventeen that while you were promised to this man, you did not know him at all. There was so much more hiding behind that heart-shaped smile.
And now, at twenty-five, you are no closer to knowing him than you were before. You’ve never known anyone else quite so talented at wielding smiles with the same deftness as a sniper hiding on a rooftop.
“No pressure?” You scoff, wiggling an eyebrow at your intended sniper. “That means I can’t gain any weight from here to April! That’s impossible with the holidays coming up!”
Hoseok bursts out laughing, clapping at your comment as though you’ve just completed a stand-up routine. “That’s a good point,” he sighs, making a contented sound. “I’ll have to ask my tailor to let out my suit a bit in the spring.”
You fidget on the pedestal, glancing back at the mirror over your shoulder. Your gown is breathtaking, there’s no denying it. It’s just…overwhelming.
“Well,” Hoseok begins to back out of the room, “You look beautiful. Sorry for snooping around, but I couldn’t resist.”
You straighten up at his comment, preening a bit. Over the years, you’ve come to realize that Hoseok’s compliments are not given lightly.
“Thank you.”
He shrugs. “It’s true.” He turns on his heel and strides out the door, calling over his shoulder, “We’ll fly out first thing in the morning.”
Piano Concerto No. 4 in G, from Beethoven’s Opera 58 echoes off the domed ceiling, bouncing through the air and enveloping you in a cocoon of music. Without your realizing, your right foot bounces out the rhythm as you crane your neck to get a better look at your work.
“C’mon, David,” you groan, sparing the renowned sculpture a glare. “You’re not making this easy on me.”
“I wasn’t aware that sculptures got vasectomies.”
You jolt, nearly tipping off of your step stool before two warm hands grasp your shoulders. Sputtering and spewing, you spin around to see just who you need to direct your cursing at.
“Who are you?” You fume as the person in question removes their hands from you and takes a timid step back.
“Jeon Jungkook, m-ma’am.”
“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen even more, something you didn’t think he was capable of doing. Chowing down on his bottom lip, he gives you a small shake of his head.
“Then tell me who you are to me, not your name.” You inwardly grimace at your snappy tone, but you’ll apologize later.
“Oh, I…uh, I’m the apprentice?” When you don’t immediately get a look of understanding on your face, Jungkook presses on. “Mr. Jung’s apprentice, ma’am.”
Ah, that checks out.
Hoseok’s father would be stepping down as the East-Asia representative on the international board of Art and Artifacts (basically the equivalent of the U.N. in art terms), leaving a spot open for Hoseok to ascend the ranks.
“Why haven’t I met you before? Haven’t you been around for a while?”
In order to complete the apprenticeship, Jungkook would need at least three years of working alongside Hoseok. Learning the ins and outs of being the curator of some of the biggest art collections and galleries in the world.
“Yes ma’am, I have.”
“Ok, Jungkook,” you stand up and stretch, gaining some sort of sick satisfaction from the way he scampers back a bit more to give you space. “Two things. First, I’m not ‘ma’am’. Just speak to me casually, ok?”
There’s a flash of surprise in his eyes, but he nods. “And the second thing?”
Turning point to the David in all his glory, you smirk over your shoulder. “Don’t sneak up on me when I’m working. David here nearly lost his balls because you startled me.”
Cheeks flushed pink, Jungkook sputters out something resembling a “y-yes, I won’t do it again” before dropping his gaze to the floor. Chuckling to yourself, you resume your position before the sculpture, meticulously layering on a protective substance to the David’s nether regions.
You and Hoseok had been called over to Italy in order to make preparations for the upcoming art show. It was to be the first of its kind --- never before had these timeless artworks been on display like this. Royalty, presidents, dignitaries of every kind mixed with world-class celebrities would be present.
As a precaution you were going through and applying a protective but clear substance to more fragile parts of the artworks. Today, the David was the lucky one.
“So, Jungkook,” you hum, completely undeterred by the strange position you were in at the moment. “What brings you over to my side of the museum today? Shouldn’t you be off with Hoseok, planning for the event?”
“Ah, well…Mr. Jung said you might need a hand. I volunteered to assist you with whatever you need.”
You blink. Hoseok had always been completely content to leave you to your work. It was a silent agreement you have: you let him do his thing, and he doesn’t interfere with your stuff.
“Huh.” You smooth out the final touches, leaning back a bit. “Interesting. So what, you’re just hanging out with me for the rest of the day?”
“Yep. For the rest of the week, actually.”
David stares off into the distance, ever stoic. You swear you can see a bit of a confused glint in his eye as the sculpture listens in on your conversation. It’s always just been you and the artwork. So what’s this with Hoseok sending Jungkook over? Is he just trying to be kind and help you out?
Probably. There’s no need to assume anything else. You just think…
Well, despite trusting you, you would think he’d send someone less attractive to help you with your work. Is this some sort of trust exercise he’s pulling on you before he proposes? Or does he just not care enough to think about the possible repercussions of his actions?
“Doesn’t he care at least a little bit?” You think aloud, frowning up at David.
“What was that?”
“Oh,” you swivel around to give Jungkook an apologetic smile. “Nothing. Do me a favor?” Jungkook nods. “Take a look at this for me, see if the extra layer is noticeable at all.”
Getting up to move out of his way, you can’t help the grin that breaks out as Jungkook flushes a bit when he gets up close and personal with the David. Despite his obvious embarrassment though, he meticulously checks ever angle.
“I can’t tell at all,” he finally responds, straightening up. “You’re amazing.”
You blink. “Oh. Er…thanks.”
“So, where to next?”
~~
“We look like those ancient plague doctors,” Jungkook jokes, hanging you a bottle of clear liquid before you can even ask for it. “You know, like with the big beaks and stuff?”
You snort, which in turn fogs up the inside of your suit. Waiting a moment for it to clear up, you glance back at Hoseok’s apprentice.
He has a point. The two of you look slightly ridiculous, in your full body Hazmat suits that are necessary to inspect these ancient papyrus scrolls. They’re falling apart already, no need for you to contaminate them with something as feeble as a sigh. Once you’re finished working on them, they’ll be placed in thick Plexiglas cases which will keep them safe from the outside world.
“We’re missing the beaks, though.”
Jungkook hums, watching you carefully as you smooth out the scroll. “I bet we could roll these up and use them as beaks.”
“Not funny.”
“Worth a shot.”
Rolling your eyes again; something you’ve become prone to doing in the past 24 hours you’ve known Jungkook, you set to work.
It’s only quiet for so long before Jungkook speaks up again. He does so quietly, making good on his promise not to startle you anymore. “No Beethoven today?”
You give a slight shake of your head, hardly daring to blink while applying the syrupy liquid to the bottom corner of the document. The slightest mess up would result in having to scrape it off before it dries, which is something you don’t want to have to try. Not when a single nick to the papyrus equals game over.
Letting out a sigh of relief once you’ve completed that section, you sit back and stretch. “No,” you groan out mid-yawn. “It felt like a Tchaikovsky kind of day. Don’t know why.”
“Hmm.”
“Ok, we need to wait…” you glance at the clock on the wall. “About an hour to let that completely set in before flipping it and working on the other side.”
“Great, let’s grab some lunch.”
You blink, watching Jungkook as he shoots to his feet and heads toward the door. “I was going to suggest we get started on the next exhibit-”
“Food first,” Jungkook chimes, leaving no room for argument as your stomach rumbles at the thought of lunch. “We’re literally in Italy, food always comes first.”
Well, he has a point.
You make a point of locating Hoseok before heading out for food, eventually finding him in a grand corridor surrounded by staff. Wherever Hoseok is, there’s constant motion. People flitting about, running errands and trying to keep everything moving in a timely fashion.
As the two of you became closer work partners over the past few years, it’s become a familiar sight. It helps, finding Hoseok is usually fairly easy. Today proves no different.
“Hoseok!” You wave him down, offering a smile to the surrounding staff that recognize you. The man in question is nudged by his assistant, Joshua.
“Hey!” Hoseok breaks away from the group and jogs over to where you stand beside a column. He nods at Jungkook, smiling warmly. “What’re you two up to? I thought you were working the papyrus today.”
“We have an hour before we can move on to the next thing, so we’re grabbing lunch. Wanna come?”
“Oh,” the look of surprise on his face gives you cause to wonder when the last time you invited him to do something with you was. “That sounds…really nice, actually. Give me a minute?”
Your heart stumbles as it pick up in speed, something you weren’t anticipating. “Yeah, sure. We’ll wait right here.”
“Great, thanks.”
With that, he scurries back over to the throng. Jungkook leans over to you, elbow nudging your arm.
“What?”
“How long do you think they’ll last before calling him?” Jungkook muses, an amused smile on his face.
You can’t help but laugh, knowing full well that it won’t be long. “I’d say…thirty minutes?”
“Really? I’ll give them forty.”
“You’re too generous.”
“Aren’t you being too hard on them?”
Your eyes slide over to Jungkook, arching a brow. “No. So what are we betting?”
Jungkook breathes through his teeth, taking in your determined expression. “Hmmm…money or something else?”
“Not money, that’s too boring.”
“Ok, ok.” Crossing his arms, Jungkook sways from side to side as he thinks. Slowly, his eyes drag across your face, trying to see something that’s beneath the surface. “If you lose, you have to be my date to the gala.”
“W-what?!” You choke on your spit, staring up at Jungkook like he just grew a second head. “I can’t- why would you-”
He tilts his head to one side, clearly enjoying your shock. “Hurry, make your bet. What happens if you win?”
“Jungkook, I’m literally marrying Hoseok in a few months, I can’t just go as someone else’s date!”
“Don’t worry,” he winks, only furthering your embarrassment, “I’ve it all planned out. Now, hurry up. He’s heading back.”
Indeed, Hoseok is clapping Joshua on the shoulder and turning this way. Chewing furiously on the inside of your cheek, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Ok, well if I win then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the week!”
There’s a hint of worry that streaks across Jungkook’s features, but it’s covered up a few seconds later as he thrusts out his hand to shake on it. “Deal.”
With the way he grins down at you, you can’t help but feel like this was a stupid thing to bet on.
~~
You’re wedged into a booth not long after, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Hoseok. Jungkook takes the spot across from you two, never missing a beat in his conversation with your betrothed.
“The guest list has been finalized,” Hoseok is saying, smiling warmly at the server that drops off some menus. You don’t miss the way she ogles your companions, shrugging it off. It’s become a common occurrence. You’re not blind to their looks.
“It wasn’t finished before?” You ask, frowning. Hoseok passes a menu to you, leaning in a bit closer. It’s unnecessary, but the way he lets his leg rest against yours has a rush shooting through you.
So…this is a new development.
“No,” Jungkook answers for him. “Well, we thought it was, but then the curator here wanted to invite some more political officials. Has it been a mess trying to rearrange?”
“Yeah, but everyone pulled their weight.”
“That’s good to hear.”
It’s relatively quiet as you all look over your menus, bouncing ideas off of each other for what they should get. After you’ve placed your orders, Hoseok nudges you.
“Your mother called me last night.”
Your eyes widen. “She did?”
Both men chuckle at your obvious worry. “Yes, she did. We had a nice chat. Why do you look so concerned?”
Perhaps it has something to do with the last conversation you had with your mother. It took place about three weeks ago, when she’d come up to Seoul for a visit. The visit had been pleasant enough; you’d gone to dinner and talked about things back home. She’d actually approved of your apartment, despite the eclectic feel to it.
It has almost been too normal. You should’ve known that it was only a matter of time before something happened.
You were busy putting your leftovers from the restaurant in the fridge, your mother hovering in the doorway to the kitchen with a pensive look on her face.
“Have you ever had…doubts?”
“Doubts?” Your voice was muffled from the odd angle, but you peeked out around the door of the fridge with a questioning look. “About what?”
Your mother shrugged, keeping her eyes trained on the door of the fridge and its decorative magnets. “About Hoseok.”
You immediately stood, closing the door with a dull thud. “What?”
“I just…your wedding is coming up, he’s probably going to propose within the next couple of months – for heaven’s sake, you have your dress fitting coming up in just a couple of weeks, isn’t that right?”
“Mom,” you voice was stern. “What is this about? You’re scaring me.”
At your confession your mother finally met your eyes. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t mean to worry you so much. But I can’t help but wonder, you know? We’ve never really talked about it-”
“There was never anything to talk about!” You sigh, exasperated. “All I’ve known is that I’m going to end up with Hoseok, and that’s that! He’s a nice man, hardworking, and we make a good team.”
“I know, darling. I know.” She hesitated before stepping forward, coming to place a loving hand on your cheek. “I just want you to know that you get to make this decision. Even though it may not have always felt like it. There is…more. Out there, for you.”
More?
“Just, uh…” you shake your head, trying to clear your mind of those thoughts rolling around your head. “Wanted to make sure she didn’t share any embarrassing information about me.”
This makes both men chuckle, Jungkook leaning forward with eager eyes. “Like what? Do tell.”
You blush at his undivided attention, groaning and slipping down further in your seat. Hopefully neither of them notice your pink cheeks, something tells you that Jungkook would never let you live it down.
The fact that you don’t know how Hoseok would react has you even more on edge.
Hoseok grins at you as you sit up again, reaching around your shoulders to pull you close. “Aw, you probably don’t have any embarrassing stories. We all already know that you’re perfect.”
You blink, staring up at your betrothed as his smile softens. He’s never spoken to you like this. First sending extra help in the form of Jungkook, then dropping everything to go to lunch, now this?
Before your mind can run with the idea blooming in your chest, your server appears with your food. Her eyes instantly zone in on you and Hoseok, something registering in her eyes as she offers you a warm smile. Then, she turns her full attention on Jungkook. Practically eating him alive as she sets his food down in front of him.
“Your hair is so long,” she muses. “I’ve never seen anyone able to pull off hair like that…what’s your secret?”
Jungkook, who you assumed would preen in the attention, hardly glances the girl’s way. His eyes rest on where Hoseok’s hand ghosts over your shoulder, slow in its retreat. Jungkook keeps a neutral expression, although his eyes shoot up to yours in a way that has you pinned to the back of the booth.
It’s over just as quickly as it began, Jungkook grinning down at his food and mumbling, “No secret. Just good genes.” He doesn’t wait another second before diving into his food. You snort at his reply, Hoseok just shaking his head before beginning to eat in a more meticulous manner. If he noticed the strange exchange that just passed between you and Jungkook, he doesn’t say anything.
Or maybe it was all in your head. Maybe that protective coating you applied to the papyrus earlier today has gone straight to your head, addling your brain.
The food is delicious, as expected. The three of you fall into an easy conversation, revolving mainly around work. You notice that Jungkook keeps checking his phone, but you ignore it.
That is, until he offers you a smug smile before focusing his attention on Hoseok.
“So, for this gala…we’re meant to bring a plus one, right?”
Hoseok nods. “Yep.”
“Who’re you taking?”
Hoseok laughs, taking a long sip of his drink. “Who? I don’t know, I feel like I should maybe take the woman I’m marrying in a few months.” He shoots you a friendly wink, but you can’t completely return his light-hearted nature. Has it already been forty minutes? But still, there’s been no call…
“Oh,” a familiar ringtone cuts through the air, and Hoseok grabs his phone from his pocket, frowning at the screen. “It’s Joshua. I’ll just step outside for a moment.”
Hoseok is too busy sliding out of the booth to notice the way your jaw drops. The second he’s out of sight, you turn an accusatory glare toward Jungkook. “What was that? Did you seriously tell them to call-”
“Before you castrate me, I’d like to defend myself. Can I do that?”
“And then I can castrate you?”
Jungkook visibly swallows. “I only meant it hypothetically, but…just listen.” When you angrily wave for him to continue, the smug smile from earlier reappears on his face. “I have this all under control. But, from where I’m sitting, I won our little bet. So I have a question for you.”
“I’m not going with you, Hoseok is taking me!”
Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Jungkook sits back and observes you for a moment. “Don’t be so sure about that, sweetheart. Now, what color of dress are you wearing to this thing?”
~~
You do your best to ignore Jungkook for the rest of the day. Hoseok chats happily with you on the walk back to the museum, occasionally finding a way to let his hand graze yours. It’s enough to keep you distracted from Jungkook’s complacent expression which is usually directed in your direction.
Parting from Hoseok is like parting with a security blanket, and he looks to be particularly pleased with the way you run your hand down his arm before bidding him goodbye. Jungkook huffs a breath, which goes unnoticed by your betrothed as he heads into the building where countless workers wait for him.
“I’m still waiting on an answer,” Jungkook chides a few moments later. You’re desperately trying to outpace him, annoyed when he easily keeps up.
“You’re not getting one and we’re not going together.”
“Didn’t I tell you that I’d take care of it? Everything. Even Hoseok.” You stop in your tracks when Jungkook jumps in front of the doors, opening one up with a flourish.
“Jungkook.”
“Yes, darling?” It’s infuriating how much you react to the pet name, your reddening cheeks giving you away instantly.
“Stop.”
Jungkook blinks, straightening up a bit as you sweep past him and head inside. When he’s silent the entire walk to the papyrus lab, you let out a sigh of relief. Never mind the fact that there’s a dull disappointment blooming in your chest. For a moment, it was nice to think of what a night at Jungkook’s side could be like.
It would certainly be different than what you’re used to with Hoseok. Not that you two often spend occasions like this together, it’s more of a formality than anything. The first few minutes are always a dream: Hoseok can’t take his eyes off of you and gets flustered. He’s a perfect gentleman, and even goes so far as to hold you close to him when entering the event.
However, it only takes a few minutes before he’s swept off in one direction and you the other. Collogues, board members, and possible buyers of the rare artwork on display keep you two busy and apart for the entirety of the night.
You make to step into the prep room, ready to get back into your hazmat suit and start on the other side of the papyrus scrolls. The moment you step in, however, the thought of being stuck in such a small space with Jungkook nearly makes your lightheaded. Focus is paramount in your line of work, and Jungkook counts as a distraction.
“Would you go around to the sculptures we worked on yesterday and make sure they’re doing ok?” You glance over your shoulder to see Jungkook freeze in the doorway. “I, uh…I never know how they’re going to respond to the added layer.”
Jungkook has lost all of his previous swagger, simply giving you a curt nod before turning to walk away. You can’t help but watch as he briskly heads down the hallways, running his hands through his hair before fisting them at the nape.
You jump a little as the door closes, lost in your thoughts. Rushing back to you are your mother’s words.
“There is…more. Out there, for you.”
The words settle for a moment before you snort, chuckling to yourself before putting one leg in the hazmat suit. “They’re both hot. So what?”
~~
Two more days pass in a similar fashion. Jungkook is always waiting for you at the entrance to the museum, resembling an eager puppy before you shut him down with a stern look.
Last night you spent a ridiculous amount of time coming up with errands you could send him on that wouldn’t seem too suspicious. For the most part it’s worked; you’ve been working alone for most of the day, and Jungkook hasn’t seemed too keen to intrude.
A part of you feels a bit bad for shutting him out so much, but you really have no reason to let him in. Especially not when he was so set on taking you to the gala when you’re very clearly promised to another.
“Does he have something against Hoseok?”
Your question is directed to your current project, The Incoronation of the Virgin, by Jacopo di Cione. Of course, the virgin humbly sitting with a crown on her head pays you no mind, but you carry on anyway.
“But then again, why would he? He’s getting his job, isn’t he?” You sit back, lightly dusting at the finer details of the mural. “Oh, maybe he’s angry at me.”
“Why would I be angry at you?”
You gasp as you stumble back, losing your footing from where you were on a stepping stool. You gasp louder (if that’s possible) when two sturdy hands grab your waist, firmly keeping you in place.
“Steady?”
“Why do you keep sneaking up on me?” You seethe, stepping down and out of Jungkook’s grasp. “Did I ask you to finish cleaning the bottles we used yesterday?”
“I finished that.”
“And what about sweeping the work area?”
“Done.”
“What about-”
“Done,” Jungkook looks like he’s considering taking another step, but stays put. “I finished everything. Now would you quit sending me away?”
You give him a long look, noting the way his cheeks burn under your gaze. After a moment you sigh. “Yeah, fine.”
Jungkook perks up instantly, and a second later you find him glued to your side. He gazes up at the panel you’ve been working on, his mouth dropping of its own accord.
“Wow, it’s beautiful.”
“Mmhm.” You head back up the step stool, getting back to work while Jungkook holds it steady. He admires the artwork, leaving you in relative peace.
“How did you get into this stuff?” He asks from the other end of the painting. You arch a brow before furrowing it, trying to come up with a reasonable answer.
“I…well, this is what my family does.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, I guess they tend to lean more toward the buying and selling of artwork. From my teen years I’ve always gravitated more toward the conservation of artwork.”
“Why’s that?” The fact that he sounds genuinely interested throws you off, making you pause as you meet his curious gaze. There’s no malice in his eyes, not a hint of the annoying pride from two days prior. Just genuine interest.
It gives you a falling sensation, which has you clinging to the stool until it passes.
“It’s quiet. Peaceful, for the most part.”
“But it’s stressful, too?”
The beginnings of a smile curl at your lips. “Yes, that too.”
A companionable silence falls between the two of you after that, allowing for you to work quickly and efficiently. Once you’re satisfied with the panel, you find Jungkook ready to hold the stool steady while you get down.
“What about you?” The question falls from your lips before you really understand what you’re asking.
“Me?”
“Yeah. Why did you decide to become an apprentice? It’s a long apprenticeship. And last I checked, curating isn’t exactly a hot trend.”
Jungkook scrunches his nose in a way that has you wondering if what you just said was somehow absolutely adorable. He certainly thinks it was.
“Well, there are a number of reasons.” He glances sidelong at you as you gather your things to head back to the storage space. “But mainly because it felt right.”
You frown. “That’s your reason?” Jungkook nods, amusement glittering in his eyes. “What happens when you wake up and it doesn’t feel right anymore?”
“Why? Do you know the feeling?”
Suddenly you know that you’re no longer talking about career choices. It’s only confirmed when Jungkook slows to a stop, hoisting up the bucket of supplies and facing you.
“I- no, I love my job-”
“Haven’t you ever wondered, though?” Now it’s practically impossible to decipher what exactly is going on behind Jungkook’s bright eyes, his long brown hair falling into his face. “There’s more out there, you know. Why do you stay?”
For some reason, you’re frozen in place. A deer in the headlights, probably reading way too much into this conversation.
“S-stay?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook takes a small step forward, as though afraid of scaring you off. “After all this time, you’re still here. Why?”
Your breath is caught in your throat. “I…” The world stops spinning as Jungkook tilts his head to one side, eyes swallowing you whole as they trace the outline of your lips. Despite not laying a single finger on you, your skin blazes as though he were physically reaching out.
With a step back, you glare at the floor before taking a steeling breath. “The retirement plan’s great. Hard to pass up on.”
The sound of your footsteps echo off the walls, listening for Jungkook to follow after you.
He doesn’t.
~~
“So, about the gala.” Hoseok stands in the doorway to your hotel room, tie long gone and top button loosed. It’s a rare sight, and yet it never fails to be one of your favorites. “I have a weird proposition for you.”
You kick off your shoes, not bothering with decency as you fall back on your bed with a groan. “Shoot.”
“Jungkook has this really prestigious cousin that’s connected to the royal family-”
“Royal family?” You sit up, frowning at Hoseok.
“Yeah, like the British one? I think so, at least. Anyway, I don’t remember how she’s connected but it’s a big deal. And apparently she asked for me to escort her at the gala.”
If blood could run cold, yours is pushing freezing. “Huh. Is that so.”
Hoseok gives you an apologetic smile. “I know it’s weird and that’s why I came to you, I don’t want to hurt you-”
“I’ll just go by myself, it’s fine.”
“No, no. You’re not going alone. Jungkook already offered to take you.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, resolve withering at the sight of Hoseok’s tentative hope. You wonder if he would really back down if you asked to go with him. To let Jungkook’s schmoozing cousin find a different date.
“Just say the word,” Hoseok offers with a fading smile. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
For some reason, your ears expect to hear the word darling at the end of that sentence. But they don’t, and you know exactly where you can go for that.
More, huh?
“That’s fine, Hoseok. Really. What’s one night?”
Hoseok rushes forward with glee, wrapping you in his arms for a second before backing away and heading toward the door. “You’re amazing, you know that? Absolutely amazing. The guests are going to be in awe of your work.”
~~
The guests are, unsurprisingly, oblivious to your meticulous work.
You’re not complaining, they’re not meant to notice it. Your work is behind the scenes, whereas Hoseok’s work is visible everywhere.
His handywork acts as a constant reminder of him, keeping you on edge as you trail up the flower-studded stairs that are already overflowing with guests. A few give you odd looks as you walk alone, but most are too preoccupied with their own problems to care much for yours.
You don’t know how he did it, but Jungkook managed to get you all to himself after all. The thought had left an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach all day yesterday at work, hardly bothering to exchange more than a few words with the man in question. It seemed like he had almost anticipated this, content to leave you be. It was when he asked what time he should pick you up that you looked at him, angry at the fact that you immediately admired his outfit of choice. It suited him, which shouldn’t have come as such a surprise.
“I’ll meet you there,” you had responded firmly, hopefully leaving no room for argument. “Wait for me beside the entrance.”
It was bad enough that you were going without your betrothed; that another woman was going to be hanging off his arm all night. The last thing you wanted was to create an equally flashy arrival with his apprentice. You were by no means the most popular guests in attendance tonight, but the guarantee of countless cameras had you refraining from taking any chances.
Now, as you make your way to the entrance, you try to not look too eager. Jungkook is nowhere to be found yet, making you frown, but movement catches your attention in the corner of your eye.
Stepping from the shadows is Jungkook, looking like he was made for this event. The first thing you notice about him is the wistful smile he gives you, which you return before your mind catches up with what’s going on.
He looks…immaculate. Not over-the-top, he’s wearing a fairly standard black suit with a thin black tie. Nothing too flashy, but it might as well be an original piece with the way he wears it. His hair has been carefully styled, so unlike the careless mop you’ve seen throughout this week.
Jungkook moves toward you like a man on a mission while you remain at the top of the stairs, hardly daring to breathe.
“Hello,” he mutters, coming to a stop before you. “You look…stunning. Absolutely stunning.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, perhaps already knowing that your tongue has turned leaden in his presence. Jungkook offers you his arm, which you graciously take. Hopefully he doesn’t pay too much attention to the way you’re gripping his forearm for dear life.
The two of you sweep inside, gaining easy access as you’re well acquainted with the staff. As you pass a long, tall mirror that’s flanked by sphinxes, you can’t help but glance over.
You do look stunning.
The red gown you wear isn’t too revealing, not too flashy, but calls attention to you just the same. No matter where you are tonight, Hoseok will be able to find you with ease. The thought fills you with a sick sort of satisfaction. He’ll see you, but he’ll see who’s arm you’re on, as well.
With Jungkook by your side, you’re a force of nature. The two of you are no longer walking, rather prowling the premises as you make your way toward the ballroom. A few stragglers that are trying to get a peek at the closed off exhibits notice your keen eye and scamper off.
It’s a new sensation to you, watching those people flee from before you as though you were an enemy soldier on a mission. Perhaps it has something to do with the way Jungkook appears to be smoldering beside you, emitting a dangerous aura that you never realized he could give off. For a brief moment, the silly boy you’ve been actively avoiding this week has vanished. In his wake stands a man with a purpose, the successor to the famed Jung Hoseok, and a legitimate contender amongst art dealers.
“I’m not used to this,” you mutter as Jungkook continues in his path. His steps are timed perfectly to your own, and you wonder if that’s a mere coincidence or if he’s currently keeping count in his head.
“Used to what?” Even his voice has turned to a dangerous rasp, smoky eyes sliding over to observe you.
“People respecting personal space. Usual they all flock to Hoseok the second he walks in the door.”
The corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “And which do you prefer?”
You sigh. “Are you seriously turning this into a competition?”
You’re almost to the ballroom, but you let out a surprised sound when you veer off course into a deserted corridor just above the stairs that lead down into the ballroom. You realize that he’s taking you across a small overlook which shows the ballroom, a flurry of suits and dresses writhing before you on the level below. It’s a mesmerizing sight, and upon instinct you seek out Hoseok.
Jungkook notices your search, pausing to allow you to look around a bit more. He studies your side profile carefully. “Is that such a bad thing?” It takes you a moment to realize that he’s referring to the competition.
There’s Hoseok, sure enough he’s weaving in and out of the crowd. People smile and clap him on the back, making space for him and his companion to get through.
Jungkook’s cousin, Margaret, stays close behind your betrothed. She even goes so far as to hold onto his hand, offering him a shy smile when he looks back at her questioningly. However, he does nothing to shake her off.
“Yes,” you answer. Then, “He never took me along with him.”
“You mean at events like these?” Jungkook stands beside you at the railing, eyes instantly finding the “he” you’re referring to. “I know. You two usually go your separate ways.”
The nonchalant manner with which he comments this has you turning to face him, confusion clear on your face. “How could you know that?”
Jungkook frowns, popping his knuckles as he refuses to look at you. “Isn’t it pretty common knowledge? You two are both prominent members of the art community that hardly have time for each other. The rest is fairly simple to figure out.”
You step to the side, granting yourself enough space to glare up at the man.
“Fairly simple? Jungkook, I don’t know why you think you can make assumptions about my relationship with Hoseok, but there’s no need to do so. You’re right, we’re both busy. But we’re happy. Why do you seem so intent on making me second guess that? Why is everything a competition with you?”
You’re surprised when Jungkook doesn’t step down like he usually does. Instead he straightens up, leaning in a bit closer while his eyes bore into your own. You swallow, pressing your nails into the palm of your hand when his gaze tracks the movement of your throat.
“Calling it a competition might be a bit crass,” Jungkook mutters, voice coming out much softer than you anticipated. “But I guess you can say that. Sure, it’s a competition. As of right now, there are no clear winners.”
“But what are you two competing for?” You ask, exasperated. “There’s no need to go after Hoseok, Jungkook. You’re getting his position in just a few months, you’ll have the same influence he does now. I don’t understand. Why go to such great lengths? Are you trying to usurp him or something?”
Jungkook finds a way to step impossibly closer, one hand gripping the railing while the other finds your hand. “Which would you deem more valuable: your hand in marriage or your heart?”
Dangerous, this is dangerous, your heart chides. Despite the warning, you can’t help but sneer and step impossibly closer. There’s a spark of anger deep within you, and if it wasn’t for your current predicament you would stop for a moment and wonder when the last time you felt such an intense emotion was, but you press on.
“I wasn’t aware that I had to choose,” you seethe. You swallow a gasp as Jungkook leans in, nose nearly bumping against yours.
You can see whole galaxies in those eyes of his. Glinting and shining under the light of the chandelier, stars begging for you to come dance. What would happen if you danced under his stars? Something tells you that you don’t want to find out.
“That’s not an answer,” Jungkook breathes out.
“I’m sorry, what that not good enough for you?”
He blinks, an amused smirk painting his features. “You’re angry. Good.”
“Good?” You sputter out, taking a small step back and finding it infinitely easier to breathe now that there’s some distance between you two. “You wanted me to be angry?”
Shrugging, Jungkook rolls his neck from side to side, looking casual as ever. As though you weren’t just about to bite his nose off if he were to say one more stupid thing.
“Anger is an emotion. I count that as a win. Now,” he extends his hand out with a flourish, “shall we dance?”
“No.”
“I’d rethink that answer if I were you, darling.” Jungkook makes a point of looking out over the railing, and your eyes unwillingly follow his line of sight.
There’s Hoseok, spinning Margaret around and around. His smile is wide, and you can hear his laughter from up here.
He has no idea that you’re up here fighting for your marriage, does he?
Again, that anger is stoked until it’s steadily consuming you. With a huff that sounds more akin to a grown, you take Jungkook’s hand.
“One. Dance.”
~~
One turns into two, and two turns to four. The music lilts and does almost all the work, Jungkook picking up the slack as he moves your through the songs. You can hardly tell where one ends and another begins, all you know is two things.
1. You’re still angry, however it’s being steadily replaced by confusion.
2. Hoseok and Margaret stopped dancing a while ago, and they currently stand off to the side trying to make it look like they’re not watching you.
“Your cousin appears to be very concerned about you,” you pant, the dancing finally taking its toll. Jungkook glances sidelong, chuckling darkly.
“That’s probably because she’s not my cousin and I told her she would only have to stay for an hour or so.”
If Jungkook’s hand at your back wasn’t propelling you forward, you’re sure you would’ve stopped dead in your tracks.
“What?”
There’s a twinkle of amusement in those galaxy-filled eyes of his. “She is connected to the royal family; I’ll give her that much. But she’s not my cousin. Just an old friend helping out with a favor.”
You’re not sure if you should laugh or cry.
After a moment, you settle for easing out of Jungkook’s grasp with the excuse to use the restroom. The sound of your heels on the marble floor is drowned out as the live band pick up a lively tune, causing a new rush of people to the dance floor. Somehow you manage to weave your way toward the hallway where you think you remember seeing a restroom sign, unaware of someone hot on your heels.
You’re reaching out for the door when you feel a hand at your elbow. It stops you mid-step, pulling you in an entirely different direction. Gasping, you whirl about to see Hoseok with a grim expression. He doesn’t utter a word, marching the two of you toward a dark corner.
“Hoseok, you scared me!” You whisper-shout, entirely unsure of why you’re whispering in the first place. Perhaps it has something to do with the secluded area he’s led you to, not a single soul in sight.
Once you’ve turned the corner, Hoseok presses your back against the wall, peeking around the corner toward the faint light of the festivities. The sound of trombones and cellos echo around the corridor, making you feel like you’re experiencing a memory rather than living this moment in real time.
When Hoseok turns back to face you, you note the way his hair is mussed. You immediately begin to smooth it out with a frown. He’s usually so meticulous about his hair during events like this.
His eyes soften a bit at your ministrations, but his face is still flushed. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”
“I- no…?”
“That’s odd,” Hoseok tilts his head to one side, eyes pinning you to the wall better than his hands. “You certainly look like you are.”
You blink. “I do?”
He lets out a choked laugh, the sound seeming so at odds with his typical demeanor. “Are you that oblivious? The way you’ve been staring at him all night certainly makes it seem like you’re drinking in every moment.”
“S-staring? At who?”
“Jungkook!” You flinch a little when Hoseok raises his voice, but he doesn’t notice as he pinches his eyes shut. “Just…be a little more cautious, ok?”
“I…”
When you’re silent, Hoseok opens his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath, head bobbing to one side in a habit which you’d always found endearing. Now, though, it’s as good as a death sentence as he steps a little closer. Slowly, so slowly you want to scream, his eyes dip down to your lips.
“No,” he mutters to himself, so quietly that you wonder if he doesn’t realize that he’s speaking his thoughts aloud. “Not here.”
Pushing back from the wall, Hoseok steps away and leaves you with a lingering stare before he’s disappearing around the corner. Your ears strain to listen to his retreating steps, but they’re quickly overtaken by the music and chatter of the crowd.
“What just happened?” You whisper to yourself. After a moment, you ease out of the corridor, scurrying toward the bathroom. Flinging open the stall, you stare down at the toilet wondering if you’re about to retch. With the way your stomach is churning, it’s definitely a possibility.
You emerge from the stall a moment later, feeling no better than when you went in. If only you could splash some water on your face, that would probably help clear up your head. However, you’ve still got a few hours ahead of you. The event is nowhere near ending.
The door swings open as you brace yourself against the sink, and you look up in the mirror to see who just walked in behind you. Margaret pauses for a second as she meets your eyes, the door drifting shut at her back.
“I was hoping you were still in here,” she drawls, her posh accent instantly making you want to stand up straight.
“Well, here I am.”
You wince; your voice sounds horrible. Like you’ve been screaming for hours, when you haven’t hardly said a word in the past hour. No, according to Hoseok you’ve been too busy staring.
Margaret chuckles, coming to the sink beside you and running the faucet. “Look, I’ll make this quick. Jungkook has been waiting around for you for long enough, and to be frank I’m sick of hearing about it. If I were you, I’d make up my mind sooner rather than later.”
You’re sick of asking questions, but it appears that that’s all you have for tonight. “What?” You stare at Margaret, who looks almost other-worldly in her deep blue gown. “I just met Jungkook this week, I think you’re mistaken.”
“You just- what?”
It’s nice to see that someone else looks a little confused for once. You thought you were the only one out of the loop, but judging by the look on Margaret’s face, she’s just joined the club.
“Like I said,” you say, leaning one hip against the sink. “I just met Jungkook a few days ago. Hoseok sent him over to assist me in getting everything ready for the gala.”
“But he said…” Margaret shakes her head, focusing in on you once again. “Don’t tell him I said anything to you, alright?”
Before you even have a chance to answer, Margaret is sweeping out the door and leaving you behind in a stunned stupor. Slowly, you turn to face the mirror again. Then, to your eternal horror, a toilet flushes.
Out ambles Scarlett Johansson, who shoots you a grin before promptly washing her hands. “Trouble in paradise?”
You snort, in disbelief. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”
~~
It takes a while to find Jungkook, but then again that may be because you aren’t actually looking for him. No, you’re just floating around the venue in a daze when you hear his voice coming from a parlor to your right. Only a couple of dim lamps illuminate the interior, but you don’t bother to get a closer look as you recognize the other voice.
Margaret.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Jungkook? You just met her this week? You made it sound like you’ve been pining over her for years-”
“That’s because I have!” Jungkook hisses, the sound slithering out into the hallway. “I have, but she’s always just out of reach…”
“And what, you thought tonight would do the trick? Kook…look, you know I love you, but this is idiocy. She’s practically engaged to Jung Hoseok-”
“Jung Hoseok doesn’t know what he has, he’s never understood! I am the only one that really gets it, Margaret.”
“Yeah, well just because you get it Jungkook doesn’t mean you get her.”
There’s shuffling inside the room, causing you to back away into a dark corner to remain unseen. After a moment, Jungkook’s voice rings out again. This time, it’s a bit ragged, almost letting you taste the desperation in his tone.
“Margaret, please. I just- I just need time. Please, just give me more time.”
A pause, followed by a heavy sigh. “Fine. I hate you.”
“Love you, too.”
You’ve just managed to scamper around the corner when the door open and a little light floods out into the dim hallway. The sound of heels walking in the opposite direction of your hiding spot alerts you to Margaret’s retreat, making you wonder what exactly she has planned in order to allot Jungkook more time.
Once a couple of minutes that feel like eternity pass, you sneak out around the corner. Heart pounding and palms sweaty, you stare up at the ceiling as though you’ll find an answer there.
What are you even doing?
Before the answer comes you’re schooling your features into cool indifference and walking slowly toward the open door. It’s easy enough to spot Jungkook in the parlor, sitting with his head in his hands on the chaise.
You rap on the door, leaning against the doorframe as Jungkook’s head shoots up. The panic at your appearance doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you pretend you haven’t noticed.
“I leave for two seconds and suddenly you’re sulking in an abandoned room?” You chide. “You much be more attached to me than I thought.”
Jungkook’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I was just taking a breather. We danced a lot, didn’t we?”
“True.” You stare at him from across the room, thinking back on Margaret’s words. Jungkook has been waiting around for you for long enough. “Tell me, Jungkook,” you stride inside, taking up the seat opposite him. “How come I never ran into you before this week? You’ve been around Hoseok for nearly three years at this point, haven’t you?”
Jungkook nods, his wide eyes completely disintegrating the dangerous persona he radiated earlier. “Yeah, almost three years. We’ve…crossed paths a few times, I think.”
You frown. “We have?”
“Only a handful of times,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, and the fact that he doesn’t want you to feel bad about not remembering him has you only growing more confused. Didn’t you just hate him half an hour ago? “We never spoke much.”
“Oh.”
Words – none of which amount to full sentences – rattle around your brain as you strive to come up with something more to say. Your brain is breaking down, information overload finally getting the best of you.
“Should we go back?” Jungkook asks in a small voice. Who even is the man, to change demeanors so quickly? “There’s still a lot of dancing left to do.” He adds a wink in at the end, regaining a bit of his swagger with every word.
Suddenly the memory of Hoseok’s conflicted face comes back to you, and you scramble to your feet. “No! Uh, I mean…” you look around the room but find nothing to help you. “I need to be more careful. I’ve been careless enough tonight.”
Jungkook frowns, almost getting on his feet. “What’s wrong? Did…did Hoseok say something to you?” When you don’t respond, Jungkook lets out a dry laugh. “Of course he did. Let me guess, he grabbed you as soon as you left my side, right? Jealous little-”
“Jungkook!” You gasp, stalking out of the room as he follows close behind. “He just wanted to protect our image, that’s all.”
“Ha! Really, that’s all? Sweetheart, has anyone ever told you just how oblivious you can be?”
“Ugh, just when I was starting to hate you less.”
“I’m serious! Sure, he might have said something about being careful, for your reputations. But that’s all just a cover-up! Can’t you see?”
The ballroom is just up ahead, and you make a beeline for it. “I see just fine, thank you very much. However, I wish I could’ve seen just how horrible tonight would be with you! I would have never agreed to that stupid bet!”
Speeding up, Jungkook jogs up in front of you to block your path. You step to your right, which he mimics. To the left, and again, he’s there to stop you.
“Let me through!”
Jungkook glares down at you, a fire blazing in his eyes. It reminds you of a dying star, some sort of supernova exploding in those galaxy irises. “No.”
“No?” You push against his chest, scowling when he doesn’t budge. “Jungkook, I’m too tired to play this game. Move aside.”
“Dance with me.”
He says it with such seriousness that you almost agree. “I already said that I can’t.”
“Please.” Bottom lip disappearing between his teeth, Jungkook’s shoulders slump. “C’mon, we’ll go where no one can see us.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
Chuckling half-heartedly, Jungkook extends a hand. “I have plenty of them, trust me.”
~~
What started as one bad idea has turned into multiple.
Jungkook took you outside to some lonely balcony that wraps around the building. The doors are thrust open, allowing for some light as he takes you in his arms.
The music drifts up to where you sway, and you wonder how Jungkook even found this spot. It’s not far from the ballroom, but certainly not a common spot for people to wander off to. You ask him as much.
“I stumbled upon it when you sent me on all those dumb errands,” he explains, smiling lazily at you.
You chuckle, stifling a gasp as Jungkook spins you around. Once you’re nestled safely in his arms, you grin up at him. “I knew those would come in handy.”
It feels like whiplash, going through so many emotions tonight. You were set on loathing Jungkook for the rest of eternity until he managed to snag one of the chocolate fountains from the kitchens and bring it out here. A platter of strawberries sits off to the side, begging to be dipped and eaten.
“Strawberry?” Jungkook questions quietly, already reaching for one. You hum in confirmation.
A second later Jungkook is dipping it with an absurd amount of chocolate and bringing it to your lips. Your cheeks flush, but you tentatively open your mouth, awaiting the delicious-
“Hey!” You swat at Jungkook when he bops your nose with the strawberry, covering you in chocolate. He laughs merrily, throwing his head back at the stars before focusing on you.
“You look adorable,” he coos. “Here, eat.” Again he prods the strawberry at your lips, catching your hand in his as you go to clean off your nose. “Eat, I’ll get the chocolate off your nose in just a second. Patience.”
You roll your eyes, but allow him to feed the strawberry to you. At the first crunch and flood of sweet flavor, you close your eyes and ball up your fists into his suit jacket.
“Ah, so good.”
When you open your eyes again, Jungkook is frozen before you. His eyes alight on your lips, tongue wetting his own, following the way you lick up the extra chocolate. Then he looks at your nose, a forgotten smile on his face.
“Here,” he mumbles, reaching out to swipe the bit of chocolate from your nose. Without a second’s hesitation he brings it to his lips and devours it.
All is quiet. The music sounds more distant that ever, the dull chatter of tonight’s guests hardly registering in your brain as Jungkook’s eyes never leave your own.
Something stirs deep within you, something that goes much deeper than attraction or desire. Something stronger than the anger you felt earlier sparks in the pit of your chest, making you shiver.
The spot where Jungkook touched your nose tingles, and you wonder for a moment if it somehow looks different now. His touch lingers, the feeling sprouting something entirely new.
Jungkook continues to sway with you, the movement as singular as breathing. When he opens his mouth to whisper something to you, you can’t help but listen to every syllable that falls from his lips.
“I…I want you to feel when you’re with me,” he whispers. “I’m not picky. It can be any emotion. But I’ve seen you, how you are with him.” You flinch at the mention of Hoseok, but Jungkook holds you tighter and pushes through. “You’re empty around him. You play the game easily enough, but there’s nothing behind those words. I want you to feel.”
“Jungkook…”
“I know. I know how I sound. But this is all I have to give you, and I thought that if I could just get you to feel something again, it might be worth it.”
You find yourself drawing closer to him, some sort of unknown gravity pulling you together like a moon caught in his orbit. That’s what you are, aren’t you? Completely helpless, thrown into someone’s orbit and hoping that they notice you. Hasn’t that the way it’s always been, ever since you first laid eyes on Hoseok?
But Jungkook notices you. You know, just from the way his eyes widen as though trying to take more of you in, you know that you’re all he sees. He’s blinded, for some reason or another. Blinded by you, enthralled by your silent suffering and digging ceaselessly for a way out. There’s no doubt in your mind at this moment that he’d carry you far away from here if you just said the word.
How your hands wound up clinging to the nape of his neck, you’re not sure. Just as surprising is the painful tone of your voice as you cry out, "Jungkook, this is no way to live."
His hands are at your back, pressing you closer and closer. "I will live like this for as long as you want, darling.”
“Like what?” Are those tears rushing to your eyes? Too many emotions in such a short amount of time, you can’t keep up. It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything so intense. When was the last time? Perhaps there never was a time such as this. “Hiding away from everyone? Looking over your shoulder every second of every day, wondering when it’ll all fall apart?”
“I can live off of these stolen moments,” Jungkook whispers in awe, gently wiping away your tears. “I’ve been doing that for years. But I don’t know what you want, darling. Tell me what you want.”
“Jungkook,” you wriggle in his grasp, suddenly needing to get away, to breathe, “Jungkook, he’ll find out- we can’t do this. What even is this? I can’t…I don’t even know you!”
He lets you go, allowing you walk toward the edge of the balcony as you greedily gulp down air. After a moment, he speaks up.
“You’re feeling again, aren’t you?”
It’s a silly question. It sounds like he’s addressing a child, but it hits a little too close to home.
Feelings, thoughts, desperation and something deep and exciting courses through you. Yes. Yes, you’re feeling. “Yes. But who says I can’t feel with him?”
Jungkook is silent for a moment. “Who says it can’t be me, instead?” He strides toward you, your heart hammering as he gently cups your cheeks. Stars must cry because his eyes are shiny with tears. Gently, so gently your knees nearly buckle, he caresses your cheek with his thumb.
Smiling sadly, Jungkook whispers, “I love you.” He takes a shaky breath. “I always have. From afar, so I don’t know if that counts in your book. I loved you before we shared a conversation. I loved you the second I first overheard you talking to that unnamed painting on the third floor of the gallery back home. You know the one, don’t you?”
You’re not sure he fully expects an answer as he leans closer, which is all the better as you’re completely unable to provide him with one.
“I love you,” he repeats, wide eyes dropping to your lips. “I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I wake up to you every morning.”
As his lips first graze your own, you remember him.
Countless times, that how often you’ve seen him. Passed him in the hallway of the gallery, trailing behind a busy Hoseok. Offering you a shy, sweet smile which you immediately assumed was meant for someone else.
He seemed to good, too kind for you.
But here he is, lips pressed gently to yours with a promise hanging in the air.
He asks for nothing in return.
When he finally pulls away, you gaze up at him with teary eyes. “Why?”
He knows what you’re asking. Why would he bare his heart and soul to you when he knows you’re promised to another? When you’ve never acknowledged his existence before?
Jungkook shrugs, then leans in for a short peck. He pulls back, allowing you to see the stars in his eyes.
“You deserved to hear it, at least once.”
~~
Two Months Later
You have not heard those three words since, and you wonder if you ever will again. Glancing at Hoseok who peers down into the glass case, you don’t think you will. Hoseok will never love you.
He has you. He always has, you’ve been a constant in his life. What’s there to love about convenience?
He’s saying something to the jeweler, but the words are muffled. That’s how it’s been recently. People talk so much, but you hardly hear a thing. They so rarely say anything that matters.
Jungkook has been gone, still working to replace Hoseok, but off on business trips that you know aren’t necessary. Last you heard, Hoseok had sent him off to Mongolia on a wild goose chase for some long-lost painting. Chances are he wouldn’t be back for months.
Staring at the rings below you, you know that by then, it’ll be too late.
Hoseok is planning on proposing soon. You’re not exactly sure when, but it’ll be within a few weeks now. Perhaps sooner, you can’t tell.
When you leave the jeweler’s, Hoseok’s hand finds yours. He gives it a soft squeeze, but you can’t find quite enough strength to reciprocate the feeling.
He doesn’t comment on it.
In fact, the two of you hardly exchange two words until much later that evening when you dine together. It’s in his parent’s mansion, one of several. This is the one you’re meant to inherit upon getting married. The dining room is a bit too dark for your liking, but under the current circumstances, you bask in the shadows.
Hoseok is late to dinner. An uncommon thing, but you brush it off, quietly greeting him as he takes up his place across from you. When he doesn’t respond, you look up.
He’s already staring at you, but that’s not what sends a chill through your bones.
He’s looking at you with that sniper-like concentration that you only saw once before. It’s terrifying to be on the other side of that gaze; something you had hoped to never encounter.
“What’s wrong?” You mean to sound more caring, but the question comes out flat. Hoseok chews on his lip before releasing it.
He’s kissed you since the gala. He did as soon as the two of you boarded the plane, away from prying eyes.
It had been rushed and desperate, and you’d been shocked into stepping back, breaking the kiss sooner than he intended.
You’d stepped back and bumped into Jungkook, who gently caught you. Hoseok merely smiled warmly and explained that he thought you two were alone. Jungkook didn’t say a word.
Hoseok holds up a letter, unfolding it. “You received a letter today,” he responds. “Would you like me to read it to you?”
You frown, reaching out a hand but he’s too far away. “No, I’ll read it later-”
“My darling, I only just now found a post office that sends international letters. I apologize from the bottom of my heart, I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you.” Hoseok peeks at you from over the letter, arching an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you enjoyed pet names. Let’s see what else my apprentice has to say, shall we?”
“Hoseok-”
“Hold that thought,” Hoseok pulls a candle that burns in the center of the table closer to him, hovering the letter just above the flame. “Let’s continue. Something tells me that we’re just getting to the good part.”
“I hope this letter finds you before the wedding, although I can’t be sure. This post office looks a little sketchy, but it’s my best bet. Love, I told you once that I could live off of stolen moments. I can, I do. But I’m tired of begged and borrowed time at your side. Once was not enough.”
“How sweet. I never realized he had such a way with words.” Hoseok sighs wistfully, making you shudder.
“Run away with me, darling. Meet me in Italy, at the gallery. Come up with any excuse you possibly can – just find me. I’ll try to do my best to find a way out of this place, and I’ll wait for you every day. From open to close, I’ll be there. If you don’t come by the end of April, I’ll know that you decided to go forward with the marriage and I wish you all the happiness in the world. Just don’t forget: I love you. Wow, that was beautiful, wasn’t it? Who knew Jungkook was such a poet?”
Hoseok sighs again, meeting your horrified gaze. In one swift movement, he lets the bottom corner of the letter catch the flame. Smoke curls into the air, and you scramble to your feet.
“Hoseok!” You lunge for the letter, knocking over the candle in the process. With a shriek, you watch as the candle drops to the rug and catches fire. Rushing over, you begin to stomp out the flames.
“Let it burn,” Hoseok mumbles, still staring at the burning letter in his hands. “I always wanted to burn this house to the ground. It seems fitting to do so now.”
“You’ve lost your mind!” You shout, turning toward him once the rug is extinguished and snapping the letter from his hands. The flames bite as your fingertips, the letter unsalvageable. Hissing, you throw it into the fireplace.
“You know what?” Hoseok rises to his feet. “I think I will burn it down. Maybe move into one of those cramped apartments in the city. What do you think?”
“Hoseok, you’re not thinking straight. Let’s talk about this.”
His smile is melancholy, but for a moment his eyes clear up and you catch a glimpse of the Hoseok you’ve known for twelve years.
“Don’t you have packing to do?” With a shrug he adds, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“I-“ you stop mid-step. A series of choices flash before your eyes, but all you can see if Hoseok and the out he’s offering you.
Perhaps he wants to get out of this as much as you do.
As you pound up the stairs and begin to throw anything you can find into your bag, you realize that you may never know. You never did get to know the real Hoseok. His thoughts and inner feelings have remained a mystery to you.
When you rush out the door a few minutes later, Hoseok is already leaning against his car. There’s another car parked beside it, and he tosses you the keys. There are no parting words, no longing stares as he marches forward and strikes a match against the side of the house. Without fanfare, he tosses the flame inside the mansion. You watch with unabashed awe as he strides back to his car and hops in. There’s a small bag in the back, certainly not enough to hold his precious belongings.
Hoseok gives you a curt nod, tearing out of the driveway.
You’re gone before the sound of sirens cuts through the air.
~~
The Accademia Gallery is packed today, more so than you’ve ever seen it before. Of course, the main attraction is The David. Tourists crowd around, trying to find the best angle to take a photo, grinning widely.
All of them except for one, who stares up at the sculpture with a keen eye. His dark brown hair is shorter than it was a few months ago when he stood in a similar position.
“Jungkook!”
Somehow, amidst the din of the crowd, he hears you. The stars in his eyes are bright as he turns around, acting as a beacon as you push through the crowd. They gleam and sparkle, rivaled only by the wide smile that overtakes his features. Those eyes, so dangerous yet so lovely. They invite you to get lost in them, to dance under Jungkook’s galaxy.
