#sylloriginal

You breathed a sigh of relief as you headed towards one of the tables, passing over platters of fruit and meat and instead pouring yourself a well-deserved glass of wine. You hadn’t expected Ares to look so innocent: wide, round eyes like a sky full of stars, his smile deceptively sweet. Until he unleashed an emphatic yet grateful tirade as soon as he’d gotten near you. He expressed an intense passion for the potential war that brewed between the gods because of you. Passion only overshadowed by his brazen flirting. You’d only managed to distract him by sending him towards a pair of former soldier spirits you knew loved to talk about their glory days and hurrying away as soon as they’d grasped his attention.

“Perse, either you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, or the most oblivious.” Taehyung sidled up next to you, taking the glass from your hands and downing your drink before you’d even taken a sip. Before you could protest, you heard another voice speak up from your other side.

“Don’t encourage her, Tae. You do remember whose domain you’ll spend eternity in after death, right?”

Jeongyeon’s hands were already fussing with fixing stray strands of your hair woven between the gold and gem-dotted tines of your crown, always more stylist than lady-in-waiting.

“What are you two saying?” You gestured around the hall. “Isn’t the point of this whole show for me to get to know his family? I need to speak to them at least a little.”

Taehyung tilted the already empty glass he’d stolen from you in your direction. “With that dress on, nothing you do tonight is just talking.”

You pointed a thumb in Jeongyeon’s direction. “And who dresses me, exactly?”

Tonight she had dressed you in wine red, the billowing layers of your gown embroidered in gold flowers and threaded patterns that complimented your every curve. Her choices had always left you feeling regal, as false as your title may have been, but tonight she had outdone herself. You felt like a god among gods. And it seemed that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Jeongyeon’s responding tone was all business. “That dress is for His Majesty. Only him.”

Taehyung’s smile went broad. “I get the feeling that’s exactly what he wishes.”

Well, at least you weren’t the only one to notice the eyes that had been following you all evening. You raised a hand to cup Taehyung’s cheek, warm, yet a little more hollow than you remembered. He had lost most of his glow over the past six months in the underworld with you, more specter than demigod. And though it wasn’t your fault, you felt responsible nonetheless.

“Out of your head, little queen,” he admonished. “I’m fine. I drank your disgusting, witchy brew, there’s life in me still. You can go fuck your king in peace.”

You chuckled at his usual vulgarity, but the sadness you couldn’t hold back still seeped through. “There’s only a week left.”

“And tonight’s not the night to worry about it. Trust me. Besides, I’ve built up a pretty good fan club since we got here. Worst comes to worst, I think I’ll be just fine. Just make sure I get one of those cushy jobs after death,” he finished with a wink, refilling your stolen glass and lifting it to his lips again. But something beyond your shoulder stopped him before he could take another sip.

“Trouble incoming.”

Taehyung’s hushed warning brought the rest of the room back into focus. After a slurred and uncomfortable flirtation from Dionysus, a thoughtful sizing up from Athena, and steering Taehyung safely away during a strange triangle of loathing between Hephaestus and Ares centered around your friend’s presence, you’d hardly had a moment of peace since the evening began. And of course, the spark of a certain god’s eyes had been haunting you since the celebration began, leaving you in the wake of carnal memories. Now the monarchs of Olympus were approaching. You pulled your glass back from Taehyung and took a long drink, attempting to steel yourself in preparation. Fucking a god was one thing. Being fucked over by gods was an entirely different event you’d prefer to avoid.

You turned to face the pair, conjuring up the last dregs of your hospitality, but Taehyung stepped away from the table of refreshments first, bowing the soft blond waves at his head low in reception and flashing the very enchanting smile that had gotten him into this mess with you in the first place.

“Ah, Aphrodite’s degenerate demigod,” Hera --- addressed by most in his family as Seokjin --- said in a sweet voice heavy with venom. “Have you been adopted by my brother as a playmate for Cerberus then? Meant to play lapdog at his bride’s feet until your mother wins her bargains for your life?”

“Jin,” Namjoon --- known to most in the surface world by his deity title, Zeus --- stroked Seokjin’s cheek in an attempt to mollify. “Come now, beloved. We’re here to celebrate.” His gaze drifted toward you and you felt the weight of it instantly, eons of wisdom and unfathomable power contained behind that gaze. But there was something gentle there too that nagged at the back of your neck, something faintly familial.

You followed Taehyung’s earlier cue, bowing before the two gods. “Majesties, an honor.”

“So she does speak,” Jin huffed. “I see living in the underworld has not yet driven you to madness. I worried so when we left you here all those months ago, poor, trembling little thing that you were.”

You offered another shallow bow of your head. “What mortal in the presence of two rulers of the three realms would not tremble, Majesty?” You didn’t have to look up to hear Jin grit his teeth at the slight, given that he was not counted among those three. “I’m happy I’m able to assuage your worries now.”

“Perse is in the perfect place, queenie,” Taehyung goaded. “And how fitting is it that Thanatos’ protege should end up by the ruler of the underworld’s side? It’s…poetic.” Taehyung lifted his glass appreciatively, as if to honor you with a toast. His smug smile was unabashed and you almost felt a pang of pride even while you wondered if he really would be leaving this place with his life. The young demigod had gotten even bolder during his months in the underworld, though you supposed his recklessness with his own life was the reason Thanatos had marked him as your next target in the first place.

Seokjin scoffed, crossing his arms in regal defiance. Firmly ignoring Taehyung’s input, Seokjin continued to eye you up. “Strange that no one has claimed you yet. I’d heard rumors that you were a demigod, but perhaps you’re only the daughter of a nymph? A siren?” His eyes flicked to the flowing skirt of your gown. “A satyr, maybe?”

Of course, Seokjin’s goal was to get a rise out of you with his condescension. He had made it clear that he considered you an unfit match for his brother, though you still had no idea why he’d forced this marriage on you if he felt that way. Unfortunately for him, you were unruffled; a conditioned survival tactic, nothing more. You’d spent too many years playing the quiet observer, learning to read people, finding a reserved touch more effective as you approached life’s challenges, and knowing when it was time to escape. And what you’d learned so far was that most of the gods didn’t want to acknowledge that they were hardly different from the rest of you mere mortals.

“I’m afraid you’ll find me only human, Your Majesty,” you replied calmly.

Namjoon’s eyes softened at that, something akin to pity crossing his features.

“A shame,” he said softly, gaze drifting to somewhere beyond your shoulder. “If only a drop of immortality to keep you by my brother’s side.”

At last, you felt the familiar pressing sensation of your hunter’s aura as he finally made his approach.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon said, barely hiding an amused smirk. “What an honor; we were just talking about you. I feel as though I hardly ever see your face, even here in your own palace.”

You raised your eyes as he came to stand beside you, aching at the sight of his perfect profile, jawline carved from the finest marble, the pretty, upturned slope of his nose, the soft waves of his long, dark hair impeccably pinned back behind his ears and disappearing down his back. He gave Namjoon a short nod, Seokjin another.

“I trust you’re both ensuring my bride feels welcome to our family.”

It was the point of this get-together after all, to introduce you to the rest of the gods you would officially call family in only a week’s time. That is, unless Hoseok could find a last-minute way out of Hera’s order. You glanced up at him again, shuddering when you found his gaze fixed on you. Part of you wished you hadn’t. Then you wouldn’t have seen the burning fire in the glow of his ashen stare, an intensity that you still felt far from deserving. The presence, the power of a god, directed solely at you. Every time he gave you that look, doubt rang somewhere inside your chest over whether you even wanted him to find a way out of this marriage anymore.

“Dear brother, we’re simply lamenting your bride-to-be’s mortality is all,” Hera said wistfully.

“You let me worry about that, Jin.” Hoseok’s words struck out like a fiery whip and the others fell silent. Would it always be this way, you wondered, the very gods forcing the two of you together bitter that a human like you would be a part of their family line, however briefly?

Hoseok’s hand flexed at his side, reaching toward you before pulling back as though he wanted to take your hand in his, but he was forcing himself to fight the instinct. You could sense his anxiety, the sharper reactions he quelled just underneath. It startled you. That you’d come to know his cues this well in these few short months when in the beginning he would barely look at you. You slid your hand into his, twining your fingers together and glancing up at him with a reassuring smile.

“Welp, this is super awkward so I’m going to find out if Dionysus has found anything stronger to drink yet,” Taehyung said. “Later kings n’ queens.”

You giggled silently to yourself, biting your lip to keep your laughter contained. Hoseok squeezed your hand and you caught the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, well,” Hoseok said, clearing his throat. “I need to borrow my bride for a few moments if you don’t mind. Please enjoy yourselves.” As his hand met your back and he began to lead you away, you heard Namjoon speaking softly behind you.

“Perhaps there is a chance after all,” he said quietly.

“Perhaps,” Seokjin followed up ominously.

“Then why not stop this…”

It was all you could make out before Hoseok had maneuvered you out of earshot, across the ballroom floor. He pulled you behind a pillar at the room’s edge, hiding you both from most prying eyes.

“I’m sorry about them,” Hoseok muttered. “They act that way because of me; it’s nothing to do with you.”

“They haven’t all been unkind,” you said deliberately, savoring the shadowed grimace that crossed his face in response.

“Yes, I noticed that as well,” he said, voice quieter yet more fierce.

You knew he had. You’d seen him from the corner of your eye, teeth gritting, fists clenched while Apollo made leering pass after pass at you. Had watched Thanatos appear at Hoseok’s side while Pan whispered in your ear about his prowess with the flute. Somehow Thanatos managed to stay Hoseok’s approach while you attempted to stand on your own against the gods and deities surrounding you.

“You know, it’s a little odd that all your family knows we’re technically married and yet…”

Hoseok groaned softly. “Yes. It’s unfortunately a common problem.”

Even though you shouldn’t have, you let a small, playful smile slip through and Hoseok responded with a hum of dissatisfaction. The hand at your low back slid further around you, pulling your body fully against the warmth of his, and you understood that the night could only end with him between your legs. You may have been standing off to the side of the ballroom, but there was nowhere around you that could be considered secluded. This public display of his intentions was so out of his normally publicly reserved character, you inhaled a short, sharp breath in surprise.

“You tease this out of me on purpose, this…this…jealousy,” he rasped into your ear before lowering his head to brush the softest kiss against the side of your neck. A slow, embarrassed heat began to climb your throat at his admission. Jealousy. The god of the underworld was jealous because of you. You lifted your hand to Hoseok’s cheek, partly to remind him of his surroundings and partly to steady yourself against the battering of your heart inside your chest. 

“Husband,” you said quietly, ignoring just how much you had grown to enjoy the taste of the word on your lips.

“Wife,” he responded in a hot, throaty growl that flew straight between your legs. “I’m still not convinced your father wasn’t an incubus. Or one of Eros’ ilk perhaps? What else could explain this thing you do to me?” Hoseok pulled you a little closer, hand at your waist joined by his other against the skin of your back, bared by the low cut of your gown. His warm, sweet breath ghosted against your neck as his lips met your flesh again. You had to take a shaky breath before responding.

“Even if I knew, I don’t think I’d have any power over you.” His lips continued without so much as a pause. “Darling, are you nectar-drunk? It’s not like you to be this affectionate with such a captive audience nearby.”

He leaned up then, making sure your eyes met his. “I’ve been staring at you half the night in this dress and wanting to rip it off of you with my teeth,” he said quietly. You were pretty sure the baring of his teeth was subconscious, but the effect was deliciously threatening all the same. “And your body language suggests you’ve had more than enough of my family for one evening. One thousand evenings perhaps.”

You smirked. Of course. Of course he had seen straight through your well-practiced confidence. “An expert in my body language now, are you?”

Hoseok lifted his head and returned your suggestive expression, though his was tinged with something wild. “We’re going to leave so I can prove to you that I am.”

“Leave? Aren’t you going to at least ask me to dance?”

You could only describe his responding smile as wicked. “Of a sort.”

You held up your hands, gesturing to the lavishly decorated celebration hall, all fine decor, ghostly servers, music and dancers brought together under his rare invitation.

“Hades, we can’t leave,” you said, using his deity title with the hope it might remind him of his propriety. “The whole point of this gathering is for me to get comfortable being a part of your family and-”

“I don’t care,” he said, pulling you closer still, voice a knife’s edge at your throat. “I don’t care about them. All I care about is you.”

You had spent the last six months in the Underworld at his side, learning his moods, his strengths and weaknesses. His deceiving scent, like sun-ripened citrus, fresh woods, and ever-burning embers. The particular incense of his heat, the brand of his touch. Had spent just enough time on the receiving end of his passion to constantly crave more. By now you accepted that, when he was like this, it was pointless to argue.

The first time you’d had sex had been a flurry. One moment dancing underneath pomegranate trees at the Lethe riverbank, the next filling the eternal silverdark sky with your whimpering moans as Hoseok rutted into you, growling your name into your ear, uncoiling tension that had been tightening between you both for weeks. Afterward, you’d found crushed petals in places one never should, and you’d had to face questions you’d never before let yourself consider: Could you really stay here in the underworld? Could you become Hoseok’s human queen? And were the feelings you’d been trying so hard to ignore all these months really something akin to love?

He began to steer you toward the ballroom doors, but you angled yourself in front of him, a firm hand pressed against his chest. A line of impatience ran across his forehead as he stopped, eyebrows knotting in question.

“One dance.”

He huffed. “Don’t let my family get to you, Y/N. We don’t need a dance to prove anything to anyone here.”

“I know. I don’t care about them either.” Hoseok may have been the god of the underworld and you were ninety-nine percent sure you were only human. Banking on Hoseok’s belief in the one percent that some measure of godsblood also coursed through your own veins, you stepped closer and pressed against his aura with your own. “I want to dance with you. And if you simply can’t wait to kiss me, you can do it with everyone here watching.” After all, you weren’t the shy one. To punctuate your thought, Hoseok’s cheeks turned a dusky rose in response to your words. As exhilarating as sex was with him, the thought that he could be this modest was so enchanting you almost wanted to drag him down to the floor and have him right there. But you wanted to dance with him more, to watch the joyful light that he so rarely let free come out for all to see.

He stared at you for a long moment, prodding with his intimidating aura for any sign that you might waver under his will. Then you watched his shoulders relax slightly, watched him give an apprehensive glance back at the dancing crowd and then back to you.

“Mother, please don’t act like I haven’t given speeches at these charity events a thousand times by now.”

Graceful in every action you took, even the pace back and forth behind your desk as you spoke on the phone was more elegant stroll than harried walk.

“Then tell Tae to drag his ass back from the Maldives.” Well, graceful except perhaps your mouth, he chuckled to himself.

A last-minute client request for one of your interior design branch’s high-profile contracts had found the two of you still working, though the sun had long since gone down. Your ever-present bodyguard sat in the small security station nearby, always a watchful eye on the surroundings of your upscale office. Based on your bad habit of working far too much, Yoongi was sure Namjoon never slept. Though, a certified workaholic himself, he was the last person to judge either of you for it.

“Of course I’ll go. It’s just a dusty old museum full of wealthy snobs. I’ll be fine.” A pause. “I said I’ll be fine,” you repeated in a reassuring tone. Another long pause passed by. “A…a date? No, I’m not putting anyone through…fine. Fine, whatever. Mom, I said I’ll go. I need to work.”

He attempted to pull his attention away from your call and back to the schematic design in front of him, but his eyes refused to cooperate, a problem that had worsened a little more each day over the last ten months. He’d come back to his senses too many times, pulled his hand from his chin, and realized he’d been smiling at you like an idiot for who knew how long. Taking note of your every move as if he were your bodyguard instead of Namjoon. Soaking in your presence as though it was healing. And after yesterday, the urge to keep his eyes on you had only grown more intense. It had only been the third time he’d gotten his hands on you. The first two times had been so innocent, nothing to suggest you’d ever seen him as more than a co-worker, or at most an amicable acquaintance.

But there was nothing innocent about last night.

He’d joined you and a few other colleagues from your office at a local lounge for dinner and a few drinks after work. The evening had been all laughs and good feelings. At some point, you’d shown an interest in a hatchet-throwing game set up at the rear of the lounge, and he’d offered to play with you when your co-workers shied away.

Yoongi had spent all these months in a safe bubble. Sure that he’d been professional enough that you would never have any interest in him beyond work. That the warm companionship built between you during his employment, however narrow, was more than enough for him. That the one-sided feelings he’d been tamping down would never come to surface, would dissipate in a month when his contract was up and he disappeared from your life.

Only he’d made one mistake as he gave you advice on your throw, gripping your arm a little too roughly. Something about catching the faintly floral scent in your hair as he positioned your elbows and the soft warmth of your hands as his fingers grazed against yours had made him careless. Either that, or he’d just been offshore for too long, his usual control gone lax.

He’d parted his lips to apologize. And found you looking up at him with all fire and desire, all need. If there was one thing Yoongi was good at, it was reading people. He knew that look. He’d definitely never seen the message in your eyes before, but it was crystal clear in the look you’d shot in his direction. Because of your illness, you didn’t drink. This was no drunken misunderstanding. Instead, your expression hit him like a silent signal he’d never expected to see from you.

He should’ve stepped back then, but his curiosity spurred him on, desperate to figure out if his mind was only seeing what he longed to see. Rather than letting you go, he’d pulled you roughly again under the guise of readjusting your position. And he didn’t miss the sharp inhale of breath you made in response, felt the shiver in your body as you’d molded to his hands. He let go of you then, but held back his apology. You said nothing, only aimed and threw as he’d instructed.

Bullseye.

You’d clapped your hands in elation, and Yoongi’s mind went a little haywire.

Half the industry made snide jokes, calling you the royal liability of AK Global’s property and construction kingdom. With how open your family had been about your condition, and though the intention had always been to inspire, it made you a constant target. He hadn't witnessed it in the last year, likely thanks to your dedicated security teams, but he’d heard plenty of stories. Of attempted kidnappings and targeted extortion. Of privacy violations and calculated attacks against AK Global’s empire through attacks on you.

A glass princess.

Though his initial research had turned up the same reputation, he hadn’t been under that impression for a long time. He’d witnessed your particular brand of strength firsthand enough times to know that glass was a lot tougher than you were given credit for. He thought he’d understood.

But that look, that response to his hold had left him wondering if he’d ever understood anything about you at all.

Yoongi slid fingers underneath his buttoned shirt collar, suddenly slightly overheated. He didn’t need to entertain a world where anything could happen between you. Even if there was the slightest interest on both sides, it could never go anywhere. You had your world, and he had his.

“When?” Namjoon’s voice rumbled. Call apparently finished, you had retaken your seat and Namjoon now stood at the edge of your desk, phone in hand and no doubt already coordinating a protection plan for the evening.

“In two weeks, that Friday. It’s the same charity gala they host this time every year, except they’re neck deep in shareholder negotiations and Tae fucked off with Jungkook for who knows how long. So it falls to me.” You sighed.

“You’ve been there every year,” Namjoon said. “Why’s she so worried this time?”

“You know how she is, Joon. Big events always make her nervous, especially if I’m on my own.”

He gave a breathy harrumph. “You know, it feels like I should be insulted.”

“What you should be is off. Go home. The second shift team has been here for hours. Go have a life outside of mine, please.”

“What?” he protested, seemingly incredulous. “I have a life.”

“Last movie you saw? Last restaurant you went to? Name of the last person you took on a date? Quickly!”

Namjoon only grumbled.

“I’m safe,” you insisted. “Go.”

He gave your head a familial pat and started heading past Yoongi’s desk and towards the exit. “Fine, I’ll go. And remember to send me your date’s info sooner rather than later. Those last-minute background checks are pricey and I’d rather save our budget for a nice bonus.”

Something whizzed across the room and caught Namjoon in his muscular shoulder. He only laughed and picked it up, placing the weaponized paper clip at the edge of Yoongi’s desk. He nodded in Yoongi’s direction with a pleased grin, wishing him a good night and heading out the side entrance.

You sighed again and slid back down into your chair.

“I’ve never heard you sigh so much over an event. Why does this one sound so intense?” he commented. He attempted to feign only mild interest, scratching away at his notebook with the pencil you’d gifted him. An industry-specialized mechanical drawing pencil that you thought would suit him well since he preferred to sketch his plans so much by hand. And you were right, because of course you were.

“It’s just another night networking for the company. Mingling, dinner, fundraiser, speech. It’s so predictable it could be scripted, really. But since I have to go alone, my parents are being overprotective.” You breathed a soft laugh. “More so than usual, I mean. I know it has to be that way, and I’m grateful we have the resources, but sometimes it’s a little suffocating.”

“So we need to squeeze in a few more boxing lessons before you go then, yeah?”

He’d run into you once in the company gym, when he’d come back offshore and desperately needed to expend some energy. Always so genuinely curious, you’d taken an interest in his controlled jabs at the punching bag, and he’d spent a little time teaching you the best form and placement for a few basic swings.

You made that quiet laugh that warmed him to the bone.

“I don’t remember being your star student, so I’d better leave that to the professionals. Anyway, I’m not worried.” Yoongi said nothing, letting your words marinate. “Well, I guess I’m always a little worried. But don’t tell Namjoon I said that. He’d have kittens.”

It always humbled him, your willingness to be honest in your feelings, to show him vulnerability when he had no right to ask it of you. You hadn’t been like that from the beginning. But somehow in time he’d earned it from you, and he wished more than anything that he could be worthy of that trust.

Your eyes flicked back to the project on your screen.

“Oh, I saw your update for the entrance schematics. This pressed marble they’re requesting for the partition. How did you know the construction set would be losing its seismic certification soon?”

He shrugged.

“Heard about a collapse a year or so ago and put the pieces together. Their design will be better off with the substitute bracing options I sent, even if they only care about looks.”

Your impressed smile was subtle, but it felt like powerful praise. In truth, his actions may have been the cause of that building collapse that led to him knowing about the inferior bracing, but that information didn’t feel necessary to share when considering structural integrity.

“What would I do without your obscure design knowledge?”

“Be slightly less rich, I imagine,” he said with a chuckle.

The two of you worked in amicable quiet for another hour. Finally, he’d finished his updates, standing from his chair and giving his back a refreshing stretch. He could either call it quits for the night or work on renders for the next setup to get ahead. He looked over at you, legs criss-crossed in your chair, lip between your teeth as you focused on your tablet, your eye for detail likely still making the most minute adjustments on your quest for perfection in your work.

A few minutes later and he was handing you a steaming cup of herbal tea, allowing his fingers to graze yours, but not linger.

“Ah, thanks,” you’d said with a sweet smile up at him.

“Carved carrara marble?” he asked, leaning down to get a better look at your screen. You scoffed.

“Yeah, I think they’ve forgotten this is a commercial build, but with as much as I’m billing them for all these alterations, I suppose I don’t care. Actually, let me get your opinion on a few of the final open-space textiles.”

He spent a few minutes looking through overlay plans with you, offering feedback where he could. No one would ever doubt you were an expert at the work that you did, but from the day he’d met you, you’d always taken your staff’s input to heart.

From behind your shoulder, he noticed as your phone lit up from its stand, a text from Namjoon scrolling across the screen.

Joonbug: Go to bed.

Joonbug: And I know you’ve already chosen a date. Send the name.

You groaned and picked up your phone as Yoongi made his way back to his desk.

“Why did I agree to bring a date?” you murmured aloud. “They’ll be bored to tears, I’m sure.”

You began swiping motions on the small screen through what he assumed was your contacts, likely sorting through suitable date options. Yoongi felt a slow tightening in his chest. He knew the event you were talking about, including the enormous donations it received annually that had benefited medical research worldwide. He was scheduled to go back to shore that week. Briefly. But he wouldn’t be offshore again until the day after your event.

He rolled his pencil between his fingers, thumb rubbing against the grooves where you’d had his initials engraved into the side, and fighting the sudden, intense urge to snap it in two. You sighed again softly and pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth as you thought, yet another habit of yours he’d come to appreciate. For a split second, he thought he could ignore the urge knocking at the back of his neck. And then the words were out of him, mouth betraying his sensible mind.

“Are you sure it would be boring for them?”

“Unless they have a fascination with museums or long speeches about medical research,” you answered without looking up, fingers still scrolling.

“Yeah. And it’ll be black tie too, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Right. And what time do I need to pick you up?”

“Well, it starts at eight, but you know people are always…late…to…”

That had you looking up, pretty eyes gone wide as they settled on him.

“Are…are you offering to be my date?”

He was, wasn’t he? It was a mistake, something he’d no doubt come to regret. But the thought of you spending the night on some man’s arm — an arm that wasn’t his — had broken his rational thought into pieces, so he answered your question with a slow nod anyway.

“…Oh.” Your lips fell open a little in surprise at his words. Lips he very much wanted to…

He shut down those thoughts, redirecting his gaze back to his desk, trying to focus on architectural layouts, fabric swatches, interior sketches, or anything that would bring him back to reality. He’d held off for this long. Soon his contract would be up and he’d be off elsewhere, far away from you. So that maybe you could remember him as your friendly co-worker, rather than who he really was. Maybe one day, far in the future, there could be someone long-term for him. But it wasn’t now and it wasn’t you. Still, you had protected him all those months ago. If nothing else, for one night, he could do the same.

“Okay. Uh, eight then.” A slow smile spread across your face, and he realized he’d gone back to looking at you. You started typing into your phone, likely confirming his name for Namjoon’s sake.

Yoongi didn’t dare get his hopes up for anything more than a night of serving as your arm warmer as you coasted through the wealthiest of your peers high off their own generosity. He was who he was, nothing would change that. Although the short bursts of sweet camaraderie and many late-night conversations between you had tried to convince him otherwise, he’d never belong in your world as much as you could never belong in his.

It would be painful for him when it was time for tide to roll in, an empty space he hadn’t felt before suddenly filled with your warmth, only to be left empty again once he was gone. At the very least, it would give him a chance to wear the cufflinks you’d gotten him, to indulge in the quiet language of gifts that had built between you over the months.

You rubbed your fingers across your collarbone, a self-soothing technique you often did to calm your nerves. Had he really picked up on all your small habits this way? His eyes fell to your wrist as you moved. To the delicate circlet of gold and colorful gems. Given your status and the jewels he’d seen you wear, you had pieces in your collection worth more than the building you both sat in.

But you wore the silly charm bracelet he’d gifted you almost every day.

“This goes beyond privacy. You’re jeopardizing the safety of my client,” Namjoon groused.

Head of your security for more than a decade, Kim Namjoon was an intimidating force in both body and presence. And though his tone as he spoke was hushed, the stricken look on the organizer’s faces let you know that intimidation was coming across loud and clear. Despite the way others perceived him, it always amused you to hear him call you his client, when he had essentially become a big brother to you in all but blood.

A stern-looking man in well-tailored pants hurried away, no doubt to locate an event coordinator to offer some empty apology you didn’t need. Since you were technically the evening’s guest of honor, you’d expected to take photos tonight. But only with Yoongi a safe distance from your side. Instead of the discreet entrance you’d been promised, the media had been ready with flashing cameras to capture your arrival. Your arrival next to Yoongi.

And while Yoongi had taken his unexpected photo op in stride, your mother had already likely received twenty notifications of pictures of you on his arm, asking who you were with and when they’d be receiving invitations. It was an unfortunate side effect of your family’s fame and success that all your personal business tended to become everyone else’s. Thankfully, you’d already had the foresight to turn off your phone for the night.

“I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you said to him.

“It’s alright, really,” Yoongi reassured you as he helped slide your warm winter coat from your shoulders and handed it to the coat check attendant. His voice was so close as he moved, and as usual, it had an almost calming effect. Still, now that you were both inside the venue, the weight of exposure had hit you fully.

Since joining your commercial properties team, you’d learned that Yoongi was many things. A curious mix of detailed, analytical design reports and quality, on-site handiwork, he was even-tempered, calm almost to a fault, kind and thoughtful in every interaction you witnessed. Possibly addicted to excessive overtime hours, stitched together by caffeine and high standards.

And above all else, he was private.

“It’s fine,” he told you again in that gentle, reassuring way he had. You swallowed the follow-up apology you’d been about to make.

His eyes traced over you in slow appreciation. With winter drifting down lightly outside, you’d both warded off the chill with thick coats. But now that you were inside the warmth of the museum, the effort you’d put into your appearance had been uncovered. And, after wiping droplets of melted snow from his half-rimmed glasses, he didn’t hesitate to resume his lingering gaze. It was easy to admit to yourself that you wanted it from him, and easier to admit, as you appreciated the way his dark, pinstripe formal suit enhanced his every handsome feature, that you wanted to return the favor.

“Here. Your hair,” you said. You reached up to brush snowflakes from his shoulder-length waves, artfully parted and brushed behind his ears tonight. Once he understood your intent, he leaned down to give you easier access, closing his eyes and trusting your touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper once you’d finished, pretty lashes blinking open and eyes immediately landing on you. “Who could blame them for wanting a few pictures?”

Subtleties. Everything with him was subtleties. Not that you looked beautiful tonight, but that you are beautiful, period. Even the way he had offered to accompany you tonight. So subtle, you’d almost missed it.

As he leaned back, his gaze focused on something behind you. You watched him pause, his brown eyes darkening for the briefest moment. A darkness that you’d only seen there once before.

You took a quick glance in the direction of his attention. Near the museum’s entrance, you spotted one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. Wearing a dark suit jacket and a silk shirt splashed with colorful patterns, he had endless broad shoulders and naturally plump lips that looked slightly puckered and all mischief. The first few buttons of his shirt were unfastened, and you saw the beginnings of a flower tattoo lined across his chest, its curling petals ending just below his long neck.

Not wanting to stare for too long, you turned back to Yoongi.

“Someone you know?”

“Mm,” he hummed noncommittally.

Darkness now wiped away, Yoongi aimed that gentle smile of his in your direction. And as you usually did, you served as his mirror, smiling back and tucking your questions away for a future that may never have answers.

Subtleties. Secrets.

With the life you’d led, with the conditions you faced, it was important to both your parents that you marry the right kind of man. Kind, strong, intelligent, diligent. But what you really wanted to explore was whether or not that list could include a little darkness.

Yoongi offered you his arm, the perfect gentleman. Your eyes fell again to the cufflinks you’d gifted him for his birthday after he’d mentioned some of his overseas clients required him to dress up his usual style for high-profile business meetings. That he’d chosen to wear them tonight of all nights gave you a little reassurance. Perhaps, though it was a very small perhaps, he might be willing to share some of that darkness with you.

He pulled his hand away then, stepping to the side and inviting you forward. You pulled your eyes away from him, shifting instead to the displayed equipment. “I’ve just never done anything like this before. I mean, of course I’ve seen harnesses and handcuffs, but…” your words trailed off.

Kicking off your shoes, you walked towards the dangling ropes and stepped up for a closer look. They looked thickly spun and a little dull, but smooth and forgiving. The ropes came together at the ceiling, a disc of metal at their apex with thick bolts securing them in place. You blinked when you noticed the circle of silver. Had that always been there?

Curious to know their feel, you reached out a hand towards the ropes then drew it back, remembering Seokjin's warning before you’d entered the door. Despite his tender touch, things were meant to be different now. You were expected to behave, to ask your dominant for permission to do most anything unless you planned to take some punishment. And your gut was still a little shaken at the prospect of his brand of discipline, unknown beyond the vague hints you'd gotten so far. You looked to Seokjin for instruction, unsure of whether you’d almost crossed a line in the first minute. He nodded at you, approval gracing his smile.

"You may touch them."

Your fingers stroked the material, finding the texture surprisingly soft. And there was a subtle smell emanating from them as well, grassy and wild.

“These are hemp,” Seokjin offered as though he had read your thoughts. "Strong and gets even better with time and use." He stepped up next to you, gripping a length of rope in both hands and giving a hard tug to demonstrate the power in the fibers. “These are really just for show tonight though. Suspension bondage can be dangerous. Too much for a first time."

Briefly, you wondered if these ropes had ever been used before. They did look as though they had some wear and your mind wanted to follow that trail, wondering with who and how and for what.

Seokjin dropped the rope then, causing a section to swing back and forth between you while his eyes roamed over your face. His gaze was weighted, eyes alert in the same problem-solving way you often saw.

You realized he was looking for a reaction, trying to gauge how you felt in the presence of his equipment, and likely decide whether you were still interested in the world he was inviting you to. Just like before, just as he had all week, Seokjin wanted to make sure you knew every step in this was your choice. It occurred to you that he was still worried you might want to back out and that display of doubt made you wonder if someone had done exactly that to him before.

Still stroking a length of rope between your fingers, you took one more look up at them as they swung. You were curious, but grateful you weren’t being thrown into anything you might not be able to handle just yet. Somehow it reminded you of the first time you'd stared up at a dance pole all those years ago. It had definitely been intimidating at first, but with time and practice, it had become a natural extension of your body, its use as easy as breathing. “Maybe one day…” you said quietly.

Whatever Seokjin found in your response seemed to give him the reassurance to continue. He looked away and down at the enormous leather trunk nearby. "I just wanted you to have a look at some of my playthings to see if anything sparked your interest. Or turned you off.”

You knelt down to the leather chest. Neatly laid out in the trunk were various sex toys, whips, and a few pieces of equipment you'd never seen before. Some items were wrapped carefully in what looked like crushed, black velvet. Looking closer, you could tell that the trunk went deeper, as though it was separated into layers of some kind of silicone trays, likely a medical grade to keep things clean. Maybe more intense equipment was settled on a layer or two beneath the top one, but nothing you saw left you wanting to run and hide. It all looked too interesting and truthfully you couldn't wait to explore each one with him. Your stomach was still doing nervous flips, but they were definitely the good kind.

Seokjin tossed his suit jacket onto the edge of his couch and knelt beside you. He didn’t say anything, only watched you silently while you picked through the chest, lifting things that clearly vibrated, handcuffs, whips, clamps of some kind, and more rope from inside.

"I'm willing to try anything here, Seokjin," you said. You stroked a finger across a small, black, leather paddle and gave him a suggestive smile. He returned it, unfolding his body to stand up straight and look down at you. You let him bask in it for a moment before standing up and sweeping your arms around the open area of the living room.

“So if we're not using any of this tonight then what's the plan? Do you have some sort of script of how you want this night to go or something?”

He chuckled. “Hm, you must’ve finished your reading.”

Seokjin placed his hands on his hips, fingers hooking into his belt loop while he gave you a look that felt like an appraisal. Still in his white button-up and black pants, the silver of his belt buckle faintly glinting in the low light of the room, he cut quite an intimidating figure. “This is technically our first session. I have some ideas, but no script. Just learning about each other. I think I have a lot to learn about you.”

"I want to know about you too," you said in a flirtatious tone, stepping a little closer to him. "I enjoy attention, that I can admit. But I want to know what lights your fire."

His half-smile went devious enough to show teeth. "Then come here and strike the match.”

As you eagerly closed the gap between you, you noticed something had changed about the room. Before, when you had been here in your maid role, the floor had been bare, a sheet of pristine, light colored tiles. You knew it well since you'd had to scrub the damn things. But now, a giant, cream-colored area rug had been laid out, plush and thick under your toes as you walked forward.

But thoughts of decor changes were quickly shoved aside as you drew up close to Seokjin, pressing your body against his chest while his arms closed around you. He didn't hesitate for a moment, a firm hand landing at the back of your neck and pulling you closer towards his waiting lips.

Seokjin had been wrong about one thing. This kiss couldn't be compared to any sort of match. It was much more like an earth-shaking lava eruption, the rough press of his mouth threatening to melt you entirely where you stood. His tongue met yours without pretense and the culmination of days of yearning seemed to pour out from between you in waves of unbridled heat. His opposite hand slid down your back, landing against your ass and tugging you impossibly closer.

After what must have been a decade of kissing, you broke away, gasping for air, your body trembling from the intensity. When was the last time you'd felt this way? Before things between you and your boss had changed for the carnal, you couldn't remember the last time simply kissing someone had gone to your head in the way it did with him. Seokjin's lips already looked puffy from your combined efforts, damp and parted slightly, and it was all you could do to hold yourself back, as though desperate for another hit of him.

“Have you ever had a sexual experience with your hands bound or cuffed?” His words were slow, voice heavy as though the fruit of his lust had finally fully ripened to a low hang. His hands still gripped your body close to his and you could feel the evidence of his eagerness between you as clearly as you could see it in his darkened eyes.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

“How about blindfolded?”

“No, sir,” you answered. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. As though possessed by a starved animal, Seokjin really looked at you like he was preparing to eat you whole. Your stomach did a few eager flips.

“Tell me which one of those you feel most comfortable with. Alternatively, which one makes you the most excited.”

You considered for only a moment. “A blindfold sounds kind of fun, though it’d be a shame not to look at you.”

His smile twitched up at this, as if the tiny morsel of praise had given him his first succulent bite.

“You know what I look like. Let’s try the blindfold.”

Though you didn't want him to and even while he looked like he loathed to do it, he peeled himself away from you, taking a few steps towards the trunk and, with practiced ease, extracted a simple, black blindfold from inside. He was back to you a moment later, stepping up close. You watched the fabric as it landed over your face, then closed your eyes as you felt the smooth press of silk against your skin, cool to the touch and deceptively thick. And when you reopened your eyes you saw nothing, your vision well and truly cut off.

"How do you feel?" he asked, sounding like a disembodied voice somewhere behind your head.

It occurred to you that, though things were apparently moving into full swing, you had yet to move beyond the carpet, still standing in the middle of his living room floor. You had seen that the windows on the far wall were covered in a thick curtain so it wasn't as though you had an audience. Still, if he was planning to fuck you blind he could at least have the decency to get you to a bed first.

“Are we playing here all night?" you asked. "In the living room?”

“Yes. Unless you can tell me what you’ve done to earn the use of my bedroom.” His voice had taken on that authoritative tone that melted you like butter in the sun. He was getting into character and you accepted you'd better do your part in the play as well.

“No, sir,” you said meekly.

His lips were back on yours, drinking from you in deep gulps. At one point you would swear he was going to lift you off the ground, his hands grabbed at your body so desperately. You matched his fervor, guided only by your hands now that you couldn't see. You roamed along his back, tracing his skin through the rich material of his shirt and desperately wishing it was off. With all the kissing, you needed some skin-to-skin contact before you fainted from the sheer passion passing between your mouths.

And then, abruptly, Seokjin pulled away from you. You caught yourself just before a whimper of disappointment could pass your lips.

“Tell me your safe word,” he growled.

You would’ve blinked had your eyes not already been closed. Growled?

“W-windex.”

“Good girl.”

For a moment, all was quiet and it left you with a sense of uncertainty. You strained your ears, trying to pick up anything you could without the use of your sight. You reached out a hand, testing the air in front of you and confirmed the space was empty. Then you pulled it back to your side, a little embarrassed at how silly you must look.

“I'm going to test your senses tonight." His voice sounded farther away now, your ears following as best they could. A moment later the room filled with the rich sound of music, quiet R&B drifting from the speakers and warming the space. Another moment and his voice was back, closer to you again. You cursed the rug, cutting off your chances of at least hearing any of his footsteps. "I want to work out what you can and can’t handle. If anything becomes too much for you, you know what to say. Don’t let the excitement of the experience hinder your safety.”

“Hm, my excitement, huh? Cocky.” You smiled, but it faltered when you felt a finger run along your throat. It trailed up along your neck and ended with what you guessed was a thumb pressed against your lips.

“Good thing you like cocky.” Your thighs clenched together without your permission.

This time kissing him was a brand new experience. Without the use of your eyes to take a peek at him, everything felt a bit more feral, driven by instincts you had neglected for too long. Every time your lips parted, you could tell he was simply looking at you. It felt strange to not be able to search those eyes. It was one thing to rely on your memory and another to have them staring you down. But these formless sensations were thrilling, if a little disorienting.

His hands cupped the flesh of your ass through your pants, giving each cheek a healthy squeeze. “Are you attached to any of these clothes?”

You thought for a moment, considering everything you wore. While they were nice quality clothing, you wouldn’t be too upset if they were ruined by various fluids, bodily or otherwise. But what exactly could he plan to do that would ruin them for good?

“Why?" you asked. "Are the stains going to be that bad? I have a very good dry cleaner.”

“Y/N, I know this is a quick transition, but I want you to remember our situation. I asked you a question.”

You stiffened a little, unprepared for the full switch of his character. This was the Seokjin you had seen glimpses of in your encounters, strict and demanding of your obedience. He had been slowly slipping into form and you chastised yourself for not joining him there sooner.

“No, sir. No attachment.”

“Good.”

You felt his hands grip your shirt and in a yank that had your entire body jerking forward, you heard the ripping sound of your blouse, threads and fabric shredding apart. This wasn't just buttons popping off that could be sewn back together. This was utter destruction, as though a wolf had appeared and gripped the garment in its jaws, separating silk and cotton blends until they hardly resembled fabric at all, irreparably ripping along the panels of cloth.

The cool of the room met the skin of your stomach as uneven strips of your now ruined shirt hung limply around you. Your mouth fell open, stunned at the sudden violence done to your wardrobe. You found yourself unable to speak, mind taking too long to process what had just happened.

A hand gripped you from behind, closing in around your throat just tight enough to make you tense. His thumb pressed against your chin, turning your face to the side until you could feel the smooth skin of Seokjin's face against your own. You smelled the sweetness of his breath as his mouth grazed along your jaw, the pressure from his lips a rough mix between kissing and bruising.

“You are my property tonight. Do you understand?”

You swallowed, feeling the flex of your throat against the palm of his hand. “Yes, sir.”

"See that you don't forget."

He slid off the remains of your shirt and for a second you worried about the fate of your expensive bra. But he was gentle in removing that garment, fingers grazing lightly against your back as he unhooked it and slid it from your arms. You heard a quiet puff sound as it landed somewhere on the carpet.

And then the room fell quiet again. Seokjin had stepped away from you, you could tell from the loss of his body heat. The room was temperature-controlled, so it wasn’t exactly that you felt cold. Only that the heat radiating from him was intense on a different level, a warmth you could feel all the way down to your bones.

“Hmm, interesting…”

His voice was so close again, just in front of your face. You sucked in a breath at the suddenness of it and you would swear you heard him laugh in response.

“Have your lovers ever just watched you? Not while you were dancing, but just intimately taken the time to absorb your body?” His voice drifted down as he moved, as if he might have been kneeling or bending over. “Have they watched your body react to their eyes on you?”

"Lots of people have watched my body. I quite enjoy it."

You heard him suck on his teeth for a second. “Look at you, you really do love it. You can’t even see me watching you and yet…” You felt his finger brush past your nipple, setting off sparks on the sensitive skin. You inhaled a sharp breath, already desperate for more.

His hands didn’t wait long to grant your wish, fingertips tracing light circles along the skin of your areolas. When they brushed your nipples again, a soft moan, barely there, escaped your lips.

The next moment you could tell from the angle of his hands that he was back in a standing position, palms cupping each of your breasts and squeezing them between his fingers. His touch started gentle, then his fingertips began making light pinches your at nipples, causing pleasant stings and drawing quiet gasps from you each time.

His fingers moved, along the bare skin of your torso, leaving behind a trail of warmth until they met your pants, slipping down to cup your ass through the material. You hoped, with him pressing his body closer, that his lips would find yours again, but no such relief came to you. Instead, you felt his face pressing into the crook of your neck, the tickle of his breath against your skin as his hands roughly squeezed and groped at your backside.

“Fuck,” he breathed, searing hot against your skin. “How can you have an ass this good? It’s not legal.”

You felt him shift, hands gripping roughly at the side seam of your pants. The force of his pull pressed your body even closer to his. You imagined the muscles in his arms, his chest flexing with the effort. And then he jerked your body forward with his effort, twice, three times, until the sound of ripping came and Seokjin followed the tear down until the panels of your pant’s fabric hung open around your legs.

He repeated the same at the other side, grunting a couple of times as he pulled, until the material gave way and his destruction of your clothing was complete. He ripped away the ruined pants from your legs, letting them fall at your feet. You heard another noise that might have been him kicking them away.

Before you could even be shocked, his hands were immediately at your hips, easily ripping the side of your lacy panties apart. His groan was quieter this time, but you could hear the satisfaction in it, and again when he ripped apart the other side.

A quiet moment passed where all you could hear beyond the soft music in the background was Seokjin’s heavy breath, feeling it brush your neck. With your body still pressed against his chest, your hands itched at your sides to reach for him, to pull him into a kiss and collapse together onto the rug.

His hand slid from your hip, landing between your legs and cupping your mound. Then he paused. You knew your panties were damp, knew his fingers would be able to feel how wet he’d already made you. His testing touches and this display of savagery had been coursing its way through your body and this was the result.

His fingers flexed against you, pressing softly against your wetness. Then he pulled away your last destroyed garment in one swift motion. You were finally completely naked to him, all your clothes torn away by his hands. You felt oddly exposed, but it was a good feeling. You wanted him to see your body and you could guess from his actions that he wanted to see it.

He stepped away from you then and the quiet returned. You couldn’t hear anything beyond music, obviously couldn’t see. Was he just staring at you? Your nipples stiffened more, heart racing a little at the thought of him just watching you. You were still fuzzy on the rules. You were his property. Here only to follow orders. But did that mean you couldn’t speak? Couldn’t reach out to touch him as you pleased? And why had he stopped kissing you? You’d relished every time his pillow-soft lips met yours, found yourself craving the touch, the taste of his mouth.

“Tell me.” You heard his voice behind you now, felt a hand slip around your waist and pull you back against his broad chest. “Exactly what part of that made your pussy already drip for me?”

“All of it,” you panted. He didn’t turn your head this time, instead planting wet kisses along the back of your neck, painting his tongue across your skin as though you were a blank canvas.

One hand still resting at your hip, the other slid up the bare skin of your stomach, cupping one of your breasts. His fingers closed onto your nipple, giving it a soft pinch.

“So this pain?” he asked. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, lips barely leaving your skin as he spoke. He gave your nipple another pinch, a little harder this time, and a moan escaped your lips without your permission.

“I see,” he purred.

What were words? You only knew the sound of Seokjin’s breathing, the sounds of your own moaning as his hands toyed with your breasts. He squeezed the soft flesh of them, gently, roughly, gently again. And your nipples, oh god your nipples. You felt like an instrument, fine-tuned to the strokes of his fingers, squeezes that would’ve stung too much if done by anyone else. But by Seokjin, they only made pleasure hum through your body and ecstasy spill from your lips. He accompanied his hands with his mouth, leaving love bites all across your neck and shoulders.

With your body pressed so close to his you could feel you weren’t the only one enjoying themselves in this scenario. You ground your ass into his erection more than once, silently begging for his pants to disappear so you could savor everything underneath.

You slipped your hands behind you at some point, only meaning to touch. But he stopped you before you could reach your goal, a rough hand grabbing your wrist and wrenching it back to your side.

“Did I give you permission to put your hands on me?” His voice was so stern you could feel shameful heat flooding your cheeks.

“No, sir. I’m so sorry, sir.”

You heard a quick swipe of fabric, and then Seokjin’s hands were at your arms, adjusting your hands so that they lay clasped together against your chest. You felt a series of concentrated tugs, Seokjin’s hands moving quickly, but his moves delicate as he bound whatever the fabric was around your wrists.

And then he let go.

“How does that feel?”

You lowered your arms and found your wrists firmly pressed together. The position wasn’t uncomfortable, but with a little flex you could tell you weren’t getting out of whatever knot he had bound.

“It feels alright. Were you hiding rope in your back pocket?”

“It’s my tie, smartass. Since you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I’m taking them away from you. Touch me without my express permission again and you’ll regret it, angel.”

You winced, cursing your mouth for the millionth time. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’re such an eager thing,” he said, body still pressed against you from behind. “The way you’ve been squirming, pressing those thighs together at the slightest touch.”

“Of course I’m eager,” you said, your voice a touch whinier than you meant. In your defense, you had been going mad for days and your capacity to resist any orgasmic relief was understandably small. “I want you. I want to come with you.”

“Oh?” he asked, and it felt as though you were a misbehaving student, his condescension clear. “You want release? Already? We’re only getting started.”

His hands were back at your breasts then, re-igniting your pleasure.

"Tell me more about what you want tonight, Y/N."

"You. I want you, sir." The press of his excitement against your ass was still driving you mad and, though he’d taken care of your hands, he didn’t stop your hips from pressing back desperately to meet him.

"Mm, and what do you want from me?"

"I want to please you. Feel your cock on my tongue. I want to feel you inside me."

A lone finger traced the curve of your breast and wound its way to the hollow of your throat. "How long has it been, hm? Your body's wound so tight."

"Too long. Please say that'll change."

Seokjin only hummed to himself. His hands were on your shoulders then and you felt a light downward pressure.

“On your knees for me, angel.”

With his hands guiding your movements you slowly lowered yourself to your knees. Now you were more than grateful for the addition of the carpet, soft fabric keeping the position from being uncomfortable.

You felt his hands leave you and a few moments later, the quiet tinkle of metal. You guessed he was back at his trunk, choosing whatever tool he planned to drive you mad with next.

“I’m going to try these on you and I want you to tell me if it’s too much, alright?” You lifted your head towards his voice as he reappeared in front of you. You wondered what he was planning, but nodded at his question all the same. Then yelped as a sharp sting hit your flank.

“Answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Yes, sir.” Why was it so arousing when he spoke to you that way? You bit your lip as if you could chase away the surge of heat shooting through you with the pain.

“Now, I don’t want you to move. If you’re a good girl for me, I’ll give you a reward. But if you can’t obey, I’ll have to punish you. Do you understand?”

You had so many questions. Were you meant to want the punishment? Did he really expect you not to move and for how long? And how difficult was he going to make the effort? But you bit back each one, determined to rein in some control over your tongue. “Yes, sir.”

You felt a hand cup your breast, Seokjin’s thumb circling your nipple in that agonizing tease that you loved and hated at the same time. Then you felt a much tighter pressure circling the tender nub of flesh. Your other breast was met with the same pressure, not uncomfortable, but definitely a squeeze. You couldn’t tell what material was causing the feeling.

“These are called tweezer clamps. They’re best for beginners because they’re easy to adjust and not too uncomfortable. I’ll go slow and you tell me when the pain crosses from enjoyable to too much.”

You heard the quiet scrape of metal against metal and the pressure on your nipple changed dramatically, from a gentle squeeze to a much tighter pinch. Your lips fell open at the pain, but you didn’t make a sound.

“Too much?”

“No," you swallowed. "I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He matched each nipple together, tightening them in subtle increments and pausing to gauge your reaction. Slowly, the pressure continued, the pinch of each slipping more and more to a slow burning pain. But it was more satisfying than anything. You caved at some point, moaning something incomprehensible, and felt his hands stop their adjustments.

“There good?”

You nodded, then before he could strike you again, you forced out the words. “Yes, sir. Yes.”

Seokjin’s hand brushed the top of your thigh.

“You really like these, hm? Look at your pussy, just drooling at the pain.”

You shuddered when his hand slipped between your thighs. You felt a single finger slipping along the lips of your wetness. He stroked it back and forth a few times, as if testing the feel of you. You wanted to squirm, to ground your over-sensitive nub against his hand. But you had a feeling if you moved even so much as an inch, he would make you regret it. You held firm, even as he added a second finger to run along your soaking skin.

When he grazed your clit you inhaled audibly.

“Yes?” His fingers stroked you again there and you swallowed a moan. God, could he please just fuck you already? You’d never met a man with whatever steadfast control Seokjin had. Anyone else would’ve already been buried in you to the hilt by now, but somehow the frenzy he made you feel wasn’t enough to push him to that step just yet and it drove you mad. You bit down on your tongue.

“No, no, pet," he cooed. "Let me hear you.”

His fingers focused on you then, swirling around at your sensitive clit. Your thighs shuddered, the clamps at your nipples swaying just enough to bring fresh swells of pain to marry the white hot heat he was generating between your legs. Your mouth betrayed you, moans spilling past your lips as he continued.

“That’s it, angel. Tell me how much you wanted this.”

“So much, sir. I’ve wanted your hands on my pussy all week.”

His fingers slid further between your legs then, circling your entrance lightly. Your body tensed, anticipating the relief of finally feeling him inside you. But the teasing went on, penetration just outside your reach. You wanted to scream.

“Please,” you whined instead.

“Mm. How desperate you look, my angel. Will you beg for it?” His finger dipped at your entrance, barely and only for a moment before he went back to his teasing circles. Your mind was shouting.

“Please put your fingers in me, sir. Please let me feel them inside me, I need it more than anything. Please.”

“And once they’re inside?” he challenged. He really was going to make you work for this the entire way. You flexed your bound fingers, desperate to grab hold of him, but knowing it would be a bad idea. But if Seokjin thought you were too demure to tell him exactly what you wanted, he had chosen the wrong woman.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers, sir.”

Two of Seokjin’s fingers plunged into your depths. Your mind spun as he obliged your request, his movements slow at first while his thumb traced circles around your swollen bud. It was heaven, ecstasy that built steadily. Your thighs were shaking, partially from holding yourself up on your knees, but mostly because it was so hard not to grind yourself into his hand. You had to keep reminding yourself not to move, to let his hand do all the work.

But as his fingers sped, curling into you and grazing you in perfect places, sensibility was quickly leaving your mind. His other hand toyed with the clamps on your breasts, jolts of sweet pain quickening your quickly approaching release.

“Close?”

“Soclosesoclose.” The words came out a slur, your hips jerking forward into his hand, guiding his fingers deeper as the relief you have been denied for days finally came into view. Just a second more, just another stroke against your desperate clit.

Seokjin’s hand disappeared from between your legs.

“No, please,” you cried out. Your body sagged sideways, pussy aching as the swell of your orgasm receded.

“No? You asked me to fuck you with my fingers. You didn’t mention anything about coming.”

“You bastard,” you spat, then bit your lip, suddenly remembering your position in this play. “Sorry, sir. I just…you haven’t let me come for days.”

“You haven’t earned it, angel. And look at you now, still breaking my simple rules.” You felt warm, wet fingers at your neck, Seokjin smearing your own slick against your skin as he forced your body upright. The motion abruptly changed the angle of your nipple clamps, the sting radiating across your breasts.

“Now, I have to learn where your limit is. So be a good girl and don’t come until I say you can, alright? Can you understand that simple request, hm?”

You hesitated for a moment. What limit? But of course you knew you needed to comply.

“Yes, sir.”

And so you surrendered any last shred of your control, surrendered yourself to his whims. And Seokjin took full advantage of your surrender, burying his fingers into you over and over. His other hand took up your clamps, teasing out more pain little by little while his lips and teeth revisited their marked spots all along your neck.

And it was all scary and liberating and, oh god, your body was going to fall apart. You couldn’t take much more.

“You’re clenching so hard you’re going to take my fingers off, angel.”

“Pleaseletmecome.” The words drained out of you like an untapped faucet.

“Not yet,” he answered simply, and continued pulling you in the opposite direction, closer and closer to your end. His thumb circled your clit furiously and you knew there was no way you could stop it, your orgasm was right there, kicking down the door.

“Si..sir, please. Please, I can’t, please.” Your mind was split into two versions of yourself: the one that hated how pathetic you sounded and the other that loved that it was all for Seokjin.

“You will.”

But only a second later, just as the heat began to bubble over, his hand pulled away again. This time when your body slumped, it was against his chest. You didn’t care about any rules, couldn’t. Twice now you had been dragged to heaven, only to have the golden gates shut right in your face at the last second. Beyond frustrated, you screamed into his shirt and heard Seokjin’s chuckle in return.

“You have such a pretty scream,” he mused. You wanted to curse him. To tell him to go fuck himself. Instead, you only whimpered.

You felt wet fingers again, this time at your chin. Though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was lifting your face to his. You waited for his lips to meet yours, but this desire too he didn’t seem interested in indulging.

“If you’ll recall, you were quite adamant that you could handle any punishment I could dole out. You practically begged me to show you real pain. Is that still what you want?”

Moderately distracted from your dissatisfaction, your already sore nipples were more than enough confirmation for you. “Yes. Hurt me.”

“Careful,” he warned.

“Please punish me, sir.”

You heard him move from in front of you, but lost track of him for a few moments. Then his hand was beneath your bound wrists, helping you up from the carpet. Your legs felt weak, but you followed his guidance as he led you forward a few steps. You heard the sound of his couch, the leather-covered cushion deflating slightly as Seokjin sat on it.

His hands guided you down onto your stomach, your arms laid out in front of you and your backside up while you lay stretched across his lap. Your nipple clamps dangled just above the couch, gravity aiding the faint draw of pain.

A smooth hand slid across one of the cheeks of your ass.

“Tell me about what you like to be called,” Seokjin said. His fingers continued soothing strokes against your ass, the lull of his gentility soothing even as your folds ached for attention.

“I like angel,” you said.

“Pet?”

You hummed in agreement. If Seokjin was upset at your lack of verbal response, he didn't let on.

“Baby girl?”

Namjoon flashed across your mind’s eye with the use of that particular pet name. Seokjin must have sensed something uncomfortable in your reaction.

“But you're no girl. You're all woman, brilliant and sexy. And mine.”

“Yes, sir,” you obliged. “All yours, sir.”

“Whore?” It was a word you had never heard him say before. It sounded so dirty in his voice and you meant to tell him as much. And then his hand clapped down onto your ass with enough force to choke off your words. You yelped instead.

“Slut?” Another slap, though less shocking this time since you could expect it. You moaned instead, enjoying the sting of his hand.

“Mmm, you like those.” His hand returned to its gentle rubbing. “How about me? What do you want to call me?”

“Master?” you asked quietly, panting through the word. It had stuck out to you in his little book, traditional, but sexy.

“I don't know that I want to make a slave out of you. You might have to earn that one, angel.”

A few more swats against your cheeks were followed by gentle rubs. And then, suddenly and without warning, his fingers were back inside you, exploring your swollen cunt like an expert diver. Your hips bucked involuntarily, and then again when you felt pressure return to your clit. He was back to fingering you, pulling you towards the edge with speed like no other lover you’d ever had.

Your nipple clamps grazed against the couch with your squirming, pain and pleasure once against melting together as Seokjin built your orgasm stone by stone.

Then the pressure was gone, instead replaced by his wet hand slapping down hard onto your ass. Once. Twice. So many times you lost count and your body squirmed at the pain, at the loss of yet another orgasm. You were sure you were moaning, losing yourself in the heat of it.

Then it stopped, fingers slipping back into you as though they never left.

“Do you know how many hard-ons I had to hide this week because of you, angel? Because of this body and that filthy mouth of yours, hm?”

His thumb was circling your clit so slow, it was agonizing. But your mouth couldn’t form words to respond. You could feel the press of his current hard-on beneath your belly, but it was easily drowned out by the feel of his fingers and the burning heat of your abused bottom.

“I’ll be punishing you for each one.”

“I’ll be good,” you breathed, barely coherent. “I swear. Please.” He didn’t bother to ask what you were begging for.

You didn’t know how long he alternated between smacking your bottom to hell and dragging your orgasm back and forth. When his hand pulled away and he didn’t continue, your head lolled to the side. You licked your lips, finding a string of drool that had collected at the corner of your mouth.

“How do your hands feel?” he asked, voice more gentle than you’d heard it for the past…how long had it been?

You wiggled your fingers. “Fine. They don’t hurt or anything.”

“Good.” You felt something cool against your butt cheeks, hissing at the sting of the foreign object.

You felt it slap against your ass, back arching at this new texture of pain. His hands were one thing, but whatever he had switched to was stiffer and had more bite. You bit your lip, and hummed as he brought it down again.

And again.

And again.

And, dear god, it hurt so good.

“My filthy slut, you’re loving this aren’t you?” Seokjin’s rough voice felt like a satisfying scratch deep inside you. “Your dripping pussy clenches every time the paddle hits you.”

“Yesplease.”

Seokjin obliged your unspoken request and your world started to blur, mind dimming to only the points of pain at your body. Your breasts were aching, the clamps shaking with each burning hit of leather. And it was the most euphoric thing you had ever felt. Again and again, striking forces that bled together against your ass cheeks in blissful heat.

“You’re taking your discipline so well, angel,” he purred. His voice sounded muffled, drifting in from some far away plane. His swats never stopped and you realized you never wanted them to.

“Harder.” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, if words were even something that existed right now. You felt yourself teetering on the edge of some great discovery, some unknown force poised to pull you out of yourself and ascend your perception of pleasure to places unknown. You made another plea, the words garbled like a strangled noise, waiting for his paddle to strike your aching flesh, the burn of each sting like an electric charge inside you.

Instead you felt his hand, soft and so gentle, fingers brushing against your stinging skin. His strokes were comforting, though whatever new sensation you had been stumbling upon receded at this tender touch, scattering like sand in the wind.

Seokjin’s fingers grazed your dripping slit and his voice slowly drifted in. He spoke in gentle whispers, cooing words that sounded as though he had been speaking for a while, but unable to reach your ears. You strained your ears, felt the intense throbbing in your chest recede as his soft touch drifted back and forth.

“Seokjin…”

Saying his name felt like whistling into a breeze at the edge of a dream, one drawing you closer, calling you back to its embrace. His hands paused for a moment, then slowly he adjusted your body, repositioning you so that you sat up on his lap. He placed a hand at the side of your head, cradling you to his chest.

“I’m here, Y/N. Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Fucking great,” you breathed. You felt a light pressure at the back of your head and then the dim light of the room faded in as the silk of the blindfold was removed. Seokjin lifted your chin, staring at your eyes like he was studying them. You felt yourself smile, accepting that your memory was shit compared to the real thing. It was so good to see his face, to fall into those gorgeous eyes, like dipping into a mineral hot spring and coming out healed.

“Wow,” you said. It was all you could get out. God, he was so beautiful you wanted to cry.

“I’m going to go to the kitchen for just a moment, alright? Don’t try to move, just stay here. I'll be right back. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He extricated himself from beneath you, carefully leaning you back against the couch cushions and adjusting your bound wrists to lay comfortably in your lap. He worked with delicate fingers, likely trying not to irritate the soreness you felt on your backside. But the pain was numb at best and you felt comfortable where you sat. You watched as he headed to another area of the apartment you’d never seen. The living room was quiet after that, save for the barely audible thrumming of Seokjin’s R&B playlist.

He returned a moment later as promised, slipping back beneath you and holding you in his lap.

“Drink for me.”

Cool water spilled in your mouth as he tipped the glass to your lips. Seokjin’s hand began stroking your hair, his cooing continuing while you drank. “Good girl, that’s my angel.”

When the glass was emptied he leaned across you and sat it on an end table, returning to holding you, his tenderness such a change from before that it left you a bit speechless.

“Y/N, you’ve never had anyone spank you like that before, have you?

“Never,” you shook your head then regretted it, a wave of dizziness settling between your eyes. “Uh, smack my ass during sex, yes. But not like that, nothing like that. That was incredible.”

“Are you sure you want to continue?”

“Yes, of course.” His concerns made the worries you had before the session suddenly resurface. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, pet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s my job to take care of you and make sure you’re alright.”

You grinned at that. “I think kissing would help take care of me. Lots and lots of kisses.”

The half-smile that made your chest grow tight replaced the worry on his face. “Ah, there’s that smart mouth.”

His hand slipped from your head and down your side to grip your ass. You sucked in a breath at the sting of pain, eyelids fluttering at how good it felt.

Seokjin laid you back onto the couch carefully, hovering just above your body. His knee pressed between your legs, spreading them slightly as he focused on you, watching your reaction. Your eyes fell to the massive impression of his length beneath his pants. And you realized he was still fully clothed, shirt still buttoned, pants still on. You huffed, but didn’t bother to clarify the source of your frustration.

He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, your cheek. But passed your mouth, kissing your throat instead.

“Kisses,” you whined petulantly.

“I like to think I treat my property well. You asked me for kisses, I’m giving you kisses.”

“On my lips!” you pouted.

“Yes, angel. I’m getting there.”

His mouth continued its trek down your body, until he was pressing a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh. Then he paused and you looked down to see him staring between your legs, that faraway look of hunger passing across his stare.

“Quite a mess down here,” he said, then laughed quietly. You huffed. As if it wasn’t completely his fault.

Seokjin lowered his head then and you felt the softest kiss against your lower lips, then another. He kissed up and down, the quietest wet noises meeting each one. You squirmed, anxious for more contact.

His head nudged your legs further apart and then you felt a jolt as his lips met your swollen bud. You breathed out heavy. He kissed it just a few more times, then down your slit, until you felt his tongue dart out at your entrance.

Once his tongue slipped inside you, you knew it was over. His nose brushed your clit every few seconds as his tongue drew slow circles inside you and your hips jerked at the touch each time. Each swipe drew that searing heat back down between your legs and you wanted to cry at the thought of him not letting it consume you.

When you supposed he had his fill of drinking you, you felt his tongue make its way back to your clit. He made agonizingly slow kitten licks and you were panting, whimpering at the stimulation. More, you needed more and he just wouldn’t let you go. You wanted so badly to reach down and put your hands in his hair, to shove his face forward and let him know how badly you needed him to continue.

You felt his hands against your thighs, pressing them further apart as if he was preparing for a feast. His tongue mercifully sped up then and you cried out in kind.

“Yesyesyes.”

Finally. You wished he would slip his fingers inside you, but this was enough. The pressure of his speeding tongue against your clit was enough and you were right back where he’d pulled you all night, right at the edge. You raised your hips to meet him, mouth hanging open as his tongue promised you release.

Seokjin took in a deep breath when he pulled away from you, as if he hadn’t breathed the entire time his mouth had been between your legs.

You collapsed back onto the couch, frustrated. You were angry and horny and this man was playing you like a battered violin, toying with each string at his leisure.

“Please…”

“Please what, my pretty angel?”

“Please let me come. Please put your fingers in me, your cock, anything, please, and let me fucking come.”

He had the nerve to only sound amused. “Is that still what you want? Release?”

“You know it is, you motherfucker,” you hissed.

His tongue was back on your clit, fingers teasingly spreading your folds. But no finger met your aching hole, only circling the wetness just outside your entrance.

Oh god, that tongue. You were going to come with his tongue swirling against your clit while you clenched around nothing. It didn’t matter. This time, this time.

He pulled away and the scream that ripped from your throat was inhuman.

“Your body is so easy to read,” he said and you could hear the smile in it.

“Please,” your voice was hoarse, body shaking. “I can’t take anymore, dear god, please.”

At the edge of your vision you saw him move, felt his pressure on the couch shift him from between your legs. His hands were at your bound ones then, pulling you up into a sitting position. He stroked a gentle hand across your forehead and had the nerve to smile at you. And suddenly you were reminded of the last time you’d been at his apartment, when he’d been about to slip his fingers into you and then sent you home.

You whined, pouting your lips in a desperate attempt at garnering his pity. You wouldn’t be able to obey if he sent you home this way. You would go mad if you didn't come.

After being forced to touch yourself for half the week, no release in sight, you were ready to burst. If this was it. After all this cruel teasing, if he had the audacity to make you go home again with no satisfaction. Well, that must be a fate worse than death.

His hands adjusted your body, pulling you onto his lap and straddling your knees over one of his thighs. The clamps on your nipples shook with your movements, and the pain they caused only made your ache even deeper. He stared at you, looking so pleased with himself that you wanted to hit him. Your hands may have still been bound with his tie, but you believed you could still find the strength to knock him into next week.

“So you want to come?”

“Yes…please…” You leaned forward, pressing your face against his shoulder and bringing your lips closer to his ear. “Please, sir. Please be kind to me, I’ve been so good, please,” you begged. You would do anything he asked, anything, if he would just let you.

“Go on then. Come.”

You sat up, thoroughly confused. “What?”

Seokjin’s grin was a little unkind, showing more of his teeth as he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes challenging you to look away. “Grind that pussy into my thigh and make yourself come.”

You blinked. There was no way he was serious.

“Is that what would please you, sir? Watching me get off on your leg?” He didn’t respond, expression still smug. “Maybe you’d rather-”

You yelped a little when his hands were suddenly in your hair, pulling you aside roughly, his mouth placing a not-so-tender bite against your neck. His words felt like steam as he spoke them against your skin, hot and sticky.

“What would please me is if you’d do exactly as I’ve asked, angel.”

He let go of your hair, hands slipping down to rest on either side of your hips.

“You’re still not allowed to touch me without permission," he said coldly. "And no kissing.”

You whined, leaning forward against him again. “Please,” you whimpered into his neck. “Pleasepleaseplease. I’ve been a good girl, I’ve been so good for you, sir.”

“Yes, baby. And this is your reward. Now you’re going to roll that pretty pussy against me so you can finally come like you’ve been begging to all night.”

Baby? That one definitely hadn’t been on his list of names from earlier.

It felt a little demeaning, being forced to make yourself come this way. But the way he watched you. The way he held his tongue between his teeth. Here you were, used to drawing the desire out of others, teasing them without any promise of release. And now, as if in retaliation for all the unsatisfied hard-ons you’d caused, here was Seokjin, denying you your own longing every step of the way in the most satisfying way possible.

You rolled your hips forward without hesitation. Your wetness met the soft cloth of his pants, the smooth glide surprising. And stimulating. And you supposed the firm pressure of his thick thigh helped a bit as well. You pressed forward again and then again, savoring the feel of his body between your legs. You closed your eyes, concentrating on the sensation. If he was really going to make you come this way, you were going to take it for all it was worth.

“Tell me what you're thinking," he says, voice quiet.

“About you.” His fingers gripped your chin firmly, jerking your head up. You opened your eyes, met his own just inches away. They looked so dark behind the soft line of his eyelashes, the coffee brown deepened to an almost inky black.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” You didn’t look away, holding his eyes this time.

“About you watching me while I get off on your thigh.”

“I already know you love being watched.”

“About how I wish you were touching me. I'd give anything to feel your hands.” You'd meant his cock. You could feel it against your thigh each time you rolled forward. Fuck, you would give anything to feel it buried between your legs right now.

“Even if it was more of me punishing you?”

“God, yes,” you moaned and kept up your grind.

“You enjoy being treated like that, like a toy strictly for my pleasure. Like my rag doll.”

“Yes.” The heat was already coiling just below your stomach.

“You want that from me? To fuck you raw and toss your body around until you’re bruised and whimpering?”

Your eyes rolled shut. “Yes, yes, please.”

You yelped when his leg bounced between your thighs, the sweet pressure making your thighs squeeze closer together.

“Beg for it. Beg me to fuck you while you rub that dirty pussy on my leg like the needy little slut you are.”

You were starting to feel a little light-headed and his words weren’t helping at all. You slid forward a little more, pressing your body closer to his. You wanted to be as close as possible, dragging your clit back and forth across him like this.

“I want you to be rough with me, sir, please. Please use my body however you want. I want to feel your cock deep inside me.”

“You want to be my cock whore, hm?” His hands slipped to your hips, drawing your body even closer. The clamps on your breasts brushed against his chest and you moaned at the stimulation.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my name.”

“You know what was hottest for me? Watching you come all over my hand. That pussy of yours can’t resist being controlled, can it? You get wet just at the thought of doing what I say, hm?”

You bit your lip. You wanted him to kiss you so badly. You clenched against the firm muscle of his thigh, trying desperately to hold yourself back from nudging up his chin and just taking up those lips. You wanted to, god you wanted to. But then he might not let you come and that fate would be so much worse.

“Kiss me,” you plead instead. You knew the mess between you was growing worse and worse. Yet another pair of his pants stained by you. But maybe that was one of his kinks too.

“You heard my rules,” he said simply.

You leaned forward, the height of your orgasm mounting. You were so close to the plump of those lips, just a little more and you could have them. It was so hard to hold back, your mouth was desperate for the connection. Just one kiss and you knew that would be enough to drag you over.

“Oww!”

You cried out in pain as his hand yanked you by your hair, pulling you sideways away from his mouth. The force as he tugged your hair threw off your movement, shifting your body slightly. Without your arms to help, you lost your balance and slid across his lap. Just enough, you found, to leave your soaking heat poised just against the curve of his thick cock.

You didn’t move your hips, instead looking up into Seokjin’s eyes. He gave away nothing, a stone wall that he was daring you to knock down. But the feel of him pressed against you gave you courage to rise to the challenge.

You rolled your hips, grinding your clit against his still clothed erection. You didn’t take your eyes away from his, silently bracing yourself for another sudden, punishing pain. You ground in again. But no pain came. Seokjin stared back into your eyes, unreadable. But he didn't stop your movements.

So you spread your legs a little further and committed, rubbing your swollen nub against him. And somehow it was more intoxicating, the feel of his cock against your sensitive labia, the rub against the soft cloth of his pants somehow more stimulating just knowing that the hardness you’d dreamt of all night was just beneath. You heard your breathing rising in your chest, felt the knot inside you tighten more and more.

And after a few moments, you saw his nostrils flare and you would swear you felt his cock twitch against you.

He was harder than stone. Leaning back comfortably into the couch cushions, he had a full view of you rubbing yourself against him. His hands slid down the sides of your thighs and around, grabbing rough fistfuls of your sore backside and pulling you back and forth, enhancing the ardency of your movements.

Some shred of obedience still within you as you lost your mind in all other aspects, you followed his rules. Though you wanted to grip his shirt, you didn’t touch. Though you wanted to devour his mouth, you didn’t lean into his lips. Instead you leaned forward against his chest, pressing your face into his neck. And you moaned, dear god you moaned. You wanted him to hear your desperation, your need as close as possible. You wanted him to know exactly when you would come apart on his cock.

He honed in a few slaps against your ass, the clamps on your nipples registering as they rubbed against his shirt. You licked your lips at some point, realizing you had been drooling against his skin, his neck damp with it. And you listened as Seokjin’s breath hitched up, almost imperceptible at first, then louder, more labored as he guided your hips to move faster, made your stroke deeper.

Your brain was so far gone you almost didn’t hear it. But being so close to his mouth, your ear picked up the sound. Quietly, a moan escaped Seokjin’s lips. You felt a blazing surge of heat shoot through to your core, your grinding hips spurred on by the sound.

"Seo-"

His name disappeared in your throat, swallowed by the intense pain of his hands gripping your tender ass. He was helping to drive the movements of your hips, speeding your ride in his lap. His cock twitched beneath your folds, his lips parted.

He seemed to realize you were looking at him and bent forward, sinking his teeth into your neck hard. It made you yelp, made the sweet press of pain against you draw your body closer to the edge. You were going to snap. Your body was going to break.

“You’re close.”

“Yes.” Your voice sounded so far away, the bubble between your legs just moments from bursting.

“I want to watch you fall apart for me,” he purred into your ear, biting the earlobe before leaning back. His pupils were blown so wide you saw yourself in them, drowning in the warm sea of his desire. With one hand still gripping your rocking hips, the other reached down to one of the clamps on your nipple. He gave it a hard tug and the pain shot through you like a lightning bolt. You felt yourself on the precipice, seconds from toppling over the side.

“Soak my cock, angel,” he said, whisper-quiet and punctuated by one more tug on the clamp.

And so you fell.

Your moans came out staccato, your body shuddering as the force of your orgasm careened into you. And Seokjin hadn’t let go of the clamp, in fact his hand had let go of your hip and grabbed the other one, tugging them both just enough to add a satisfying burn of pain to your pleasure.

“Good girl, you're my good girl, beautiful,” he cooed.

Your body trembled against his chest as pleasure rolled over you in waves, slowly receding. You whimpered as it subsided, the burn that had been building in you for days finally sated, though not completely satisfied. You could still feel him between your legs, the solid impression of his still-clothed stiff cock pressed against your absurdly wet folds. And the desire for more, to bury his length deep inside you still lingered at the edge of your temporarily appeased hunger.

“You're going to be so sore in the morning.”

You were sore now, you thought, but didn’t have the drive to say the words. You leaned forward against his chest and heard the wet noises of your release, smiling to yourself.

He’d asked you to soak his cock and you’d drowned it. You made a deep mental note to get him the number to your dry cleaner.

Seokjin’s hands slid around your waist, holding you close against him. He kissed the top of your head, your forehead, and finally, after all your yearning, your lips. You drank him in like spring water, the sweet attention refreshing.

“You feel alright?” He asked, barely parting from your lips to speak.

You gave a weak nod and pressed forward, taking another deep gulp from his lips. He didn’t argue, didn’t pull away. Just returned your kiss like he was just as parched. Perhaps not kissing you all night had been as much of a denial for him as it had for you.

Still, they weren’t the hungry kisses you had been indulging in all week. These felt different, like a soothing salve to the burn between you. You weren’t sure how long you both sat there, your legs still spread across his lap, his hands cradling the back of your head, just kissing.

When he finally pulled away, it felt like an age had passed. You stared up into eyes that looked as disappointed about stopping as you felt. But his hands went between you to your wrists, quickly unknotting the tie around then until it fell off onto the couch beside you both. Then he took a moment to unfasten the little clamps from your nipples. They felt sore even with the little bits of metal off, but you were a little relieved for the pressure to be gone now that you'd had your fill.

Seokjin leaned your body up, adjusting your legs so that he could scoop an arm underneath them. With easy strength, he lifted your body and stood from the couch. Holding you like a princess, he began crossing the room.

He carried you down the apartment's hallway and into what could only be a bedroom. You could make out the bed, the room only lit by a small bedside table lamp. But before you could tilt your head to look past him to see more you were in a different room, all white tiles and pale wooden cabinets.

He stood you upright, but held you leaning against his body. Taking your hand he bent you forward, dipping your fingers into the steaming water of an enormous bathtub.

“Too hot?”

“No," you mumbled because it was all you could manage. "It feels nice.”

You watched him reach past you and toss something into the water. It began to fizz and you realized it was a bath bomb as deep notes of lavender and sweet musk began to fill the room.

“Can you stand?”

You leaned away from him. Your body ached, but you felt just fine. Not that you were complaining about the way he was spoiling you, but you were a big girl.

You nodded and Seokjin’s hands went to his pants. You finally noticed the enormous stain at his lap, turning the pants an impossibly deeper, shiny black. He stripped them off and then his hands reached for his shirt. You watched as his fingers paused at the top button, his eyes flicking to you for a brief moment.

What was that about? Was there really any cause for either of you to be shy now? You had just dry humped him into oblivion.

If he’d had any reservations they were gone quickly. He tossed his shirt on top of his discarded pants, leaving him bare save for his logo-emblazoned boxer-briefs. But apparently he planned to leave those on. You tried to burn the image of him wearing barely anything into your mind, the dark color of his nipples, the outlines of his ab muscles. But it seemed to fall through like so much water through open hands. He stepped into the enormous tub, holding out a hand for yours to follow.

You stepped into the warm water and Seokjin lowered you both into the tub, sitting behind you and placing you between his legs. He leaned you back against his chest, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“You were great tonight, beautiful. You listened so well.”

His hands slid up your arms to your shoulders and began making gentle massaging motions.

“Did I hurt you at all? Was anything overwhelming?”

“You were…phenomenal, Seokjin,” you breathed, relaxing into his hands.

You felt the rise of his chest pause just long enough for you to notice before it resumed. He kissed the top of your head.

“Beautiful.”

He held you there for a long while, hands moving about your body and massaging your muscles as though he could keep any ache at bay with his hands. At least he made an amazing effort at it, working out knots from your shoulders, arms, and thighs.

“You know I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Any time you use your safe word, I’ll stop.”

“I know. I trust you.” It had become more intimate each time you said the words.

“You're absolutely breathtaking.” Another kiss, this time just below your ear.

“And what about you? Did you enjoy yourself?” you asked. It buzzed in the back of your mind that, yet again, he hadn’t come himself. You were beginning to think he never wanted to.

You could feel Seokjin’s lips land against the back of your head.

“I couldn’t have asked for anything more.”

You wondered at that. At this point you knew you wouldn’t trade the events of the evening for anything else. It had been exciting and sensual in ways you had never known and, as you predicted, Seokjin had been wonderful throughout, guiding you and taking care of you at every step.

But that still didn’t explain the lack of sex. You chewed a little at your bottom lip. It was a dangling tease for you, considering he knew how badly you wanted him. And clearly his plan was to keep it from you as long as he liked, perhaps with your needy desire in mind. But instead of bothering you or leaving you unsatisfied, his withholding only increased your desire to continue this exploration. Sex was great, but the levels of pleasure he had been able to take you to while remaining fully clothed were on another plane of passion. You could be patient over a cock.

But what about Seokjin? You wanted to touch him, to bring him pleasure just as much. And he wasn’t devoid of desire either. Not only had he been ready to bury his cock in you earlier that very day, but you knew he was affected by the evening. Even now you could feel his swollen cock pressing against the base of your spine. But you considered. He was clearly after something else. The power and control he exercised over you, perhaps that was pleasure enough for him. For now.

His fingers continued working magic on your body, releasing tension from your head you had no idea was there. He peppered kisses to your head, your temples as he worked. At one point you felt your eyes opening, catching yourself right at the edge of drifting to sleep. Soon after you heard Seokjin’s gentle voice shake you from whatever trance you had been drifting into.

“It’s definitely been over three hours, angel. Where’s your alarm?”

“Oops. Guess I forgot.”

“Come on, let's get you home.”

He helped you up out of the bath. Your body still felt sore, a dull ache in your muscles and the skin of your ass still tender. But the hot soak and the massage had definitely helped. He reached up into a cabinet and pulled out some towels, helping you dry off and wrapping one around his waist.

You watched him reach elsewhere and then cup your cheek in his hand, wiping at your face with a damp, soft cloth.

A makeup wipe, you realized, suddenly embarrassed. He’d been calling you beautiful this whole time when you probably looked an absolute mess, makeup smudged and eyeliner run. His hands were careful as they worked, his lips pursed in concentration until he was satisfied.

Taking your hand he walked you out into the bedroom you’d passed before. The bed was enormous, but beyond that, in the low light, you couldn’t make out too many details of decor.

“Here,” he said, handing you a t-shirt and a pair of shorts with a drawstring. Right, you suddenly remembered. You had no clothes. He had torn yours to shreds like a wild animal.

You laughed to yourself while you took the clothes from his hands, then focused on slipping them on without falling over. Part of you wanted to talk about his apparent kink of destruction. But it was too difficult to form words for now, so that too you tucked into the back of your mind.

Seokjin had pulled on a t-shirt and shorts of his own. He made his way back to you and put a hand at your hip, gently guiding you out of the room. You gave it one last glance, wondering exactly what all you’d need to do to earn the right to be in there. Though you supposed, in time, you’d find out.

“It’s late and I know you've got to feel drained,” he said once you were back in the living room, though his hand never left your hip. “Do you want me to call you a ride?” His eyes softened. “Want me to drive you?”

“No, no, I'll be fine. I’m not super far.”

“Alright,” he said, stepping away from you. “Hang on, before you go…” His words trailed off and he held up a finger before heading off to what you now knew was the kitchen. He returned a second later with a full glass of orange juice, holding it up to you.

“Go on,” he urged. “The simple sugars will be good for you.”

You knocked back the glass under his watchful eye until it was empty. He nodded, looking pleased before taking it from you and sitting it on a side table and then returning to you.

“Still so good at taking orders,” he chuckled. You smiled, carding through your mind for a retort. But your thoughts felt slow for some reason, so you said nothing.

He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, then one against your lips. Then another, this time longer. Unable to resist the temptation you met his kisses, taking long, deep draws on his lips. It was uncanny the way you both seemed drawn to each other’s mouths, as though you’d never kissed before. Though, you’d certainly never been kissed the way Kim Seokjin kissed you, like he drew his very life force from your mouth. It was intoxicating.

Eventually he had you pressed against the wall at the mouth of his entryway, just like so many times before. As though he were making up for a night full of missed kisses, he was unrelenting on your mouth. You would swear by the end you would know the shape of his tongue.

His body pressed into yours and you felt it then, his unsatisfied erection returned against your thigh. But this time your hands acted before you could caution them to behave. You cupped his cock between your fingers, enjoying the feel of his impressive length, the thickness of it under your hand. Need rekindled inside you, roaring from a low flame to a raging fire in a second.

“Mmm.” Seokjin groaned into your mouth, pressing you further back against the wall. A moan followed, his hips pressing forward and grinding into your hand.

“Ah,” he said suddenly, hand circling your wrist to stop you while he pulled away. Pinning your hand to your side, he pressed his forehead against yours, "Shit, you make me crazy."

You wanted him to give in to the crazy. You wanted to tell him as much, but your mouth wouldn’t form the words. You smiled instead, wiggling the fingers of your trapped hand to show they were willing to continue.

"Listen, I went easy on you tonight, but there's always a danger of your hormones screwing with you after a session. I want you checking in with me, alright? Keep texting me after you get home until you fall asleep. Video call me if you start to feel sad or strange in general."

You nodded at his instructions, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed. Your eyelids fluttered, an abrupt wave of exhaustion hitting you.

Before you could blink it away, Seokjin had already reached forward, pulling you to his chest.

“Alright, I’m driving you home.”

You didn’t remember much of the car ride to your place, only the comforting feel of Seokjin’s arm around your waist and your body molded against his chest. It was a comfortable fit in his little, blue sports car, the interior lending itself to closeness.

You drifted to sleep a couple of times, lulled by the quiet purr of the engine and the scent drifting from Seokjin. The mingled smell of his cologne and the fragrance of the bath bomb made you feel warmer, comfortable.

"Y/N, we're here."

You sat up at Seokjin's voice, eyes flying open. You had slipped back into the passenger seat somehow and he was standing at your door, holding out a hand to help you out of the car.

"Thank you, boss," you mumbled, reaching for him and pulling yourself out of the car.

“Let me walk you up?” he asked, a steadying hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine, I promise," you said, trying to be reassuring. Instead, your voice just sounded tired. "Just need sleep.”

“Alright," he said, though it sounded like he didn't want to agree. "Promise me you’ll eat something first, even if it’s just a cereal bar or something, okay?”

You nodded, unable to find the energy to speak anymore. He held you for just a moment longer, studying your face. Then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

A bud of a thought sprang up somewhere deep in your mind, but it was all you could do to keep standing, exhausted as you were. Seokjin let you go, stepping back next to his car and lifting his chin in the direction of your building, urging you to head inside.

You stared at him, trying to get whatever thoughts were hiding to come forward, but your mind was too slow. Instead, you turned away from him and headed inside your apartment building, spacing out for the entire elevator ride up before finally making it through your front door.

Food, you thought. Seokjin had made you promise to eat food. Tossing your purse onto your couch, you wandered into your kitchen and scooped out a palmful from a bag of granola in the first cabinet you reached and tipping half of it into your mouth.

Bath. It felt like so long ago, but you remembered you were planning to take a long, hot bath at the end of the day. And the bath with Seokjin, though relaxing, hadn’t exactly been one focused on scrubbing yourself clean.

You bargained with yourself, shoving the rest of the handful of granola into your mouth and dragging your exhausted body to your bedroom. A hot shower when you woke up would work just as well.

As you slid into your sheets and used your last bit of energy to click off your bedside lamp, you heard the chime of your phone. With effort you didn't have, you pulled it next to you and swiped open your messages.

Seokjin: Did you eat something?

You fought against your eyes as they threatened to fall shut even as your brain slowly translated the meaning of the words.

Y/N: grnla

Seokjin: How are you feeling?

Y/N: sleep

Seokjin: Sweet dreams, beautiful. I’ll call you in the morning.

Had you responded at all? Feelings bubbled just out of your reach, urging you to say something more, though you couldn’t grasp onto any words. The bud in your brain slowly began to flower, a vague regret for not asking him to stay and keep holding you like he had in the bath, to press you into his chest the way he had in the car. The memory of his arms felt strangely comfortable, like a home you had never known, but longed to return to. Your emotions rocked in a steady wave as a heavy blanket of sleep cocooned its way around you. And deep in your subconscious you would swear you felt your phone slipping from your fingers, forgotten somewhere between the tangle of your sheets.

“I was right!” Jihye said, leaning against your desk and looking quite smug, as though she’d sleuthed some great mystery. “Who the hell are you seeing that you won’t even tell us?”

“Oh my gosh, Y/N,” Ara said, joining Jihye in her excitement. “How long have you been seeing them? Oh, these are so pretty!”

“You guys, it’s not exactly…” What could you say? Nothing, really. It’s not as if you were actually dating someone. And as much as you didn’t mind sharing with your other friends, you couldn’t exactly explain your complicated situation to your co-workers. “Listen, I’ll talk about it when I’m ready, alright?”

“Uggh, get ready quick, girl,” Jihye groaned. “You've been single so long I'm starting to miss the gossip about your ex.”

“Morning all.” You looked towards the front of your desk to see Seokjin walking up, iced coffee in hand. He caught your eyes, holding them for a moment before smiling at your co-workers and launching into conversation. Quickly their attention was diverted away from you and your flowers. You sat the card on your desk and took a seat, staring at Seokjin’s back while he leaned against the divider between Jihye and Ara’s desks. The two of them were laughing at some joke you’d missed, but you couldn’t pull your focus away from your manager, brain still absorbing what had happened. Your eyes traced over him, the deep black of his suit stretching on forever across his endless shoulders and cutting in just right to enhance his narrow waist.

Jihye's signature snorting laugh finally broke your gaze. You took another look at the card and flowers, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling. It was adorable. Almost…romantic? And though they clearly represented his regret more than his love of timeless poetry, you felt yourself a little charmed by the gesture.

“We should do one-on-ones this morning, yeah? Jihye, you want to come on in first and catch me up?” Off at full speed, Seokjin didn’t miss a beat in getting the morning started. Thankfully your flowers seemed to be forgotten by both ladies, the subtle, sweet, floral scent of them brushing against your senses as you settled into your desk and brought up your day's tasks.

You waited as one-by-one your co-workers shuffled into Seokjin's office, with Ara going next, and Yoongi asking to go ahead of you so he could get to an appointment on time. Seokjin’s door remained open throughout as it always did, though his desk was placed far enough inside that any discussion was indiscernible.

Every two weeks or so, Seokjin made sure to spend a few minutes with each of you, longer if any of you needed. It helped him get a status on your assignments and assist you with anything you might be struggling with, as well as offer his expertise in your strategies and do a general check-in to make sure his employees had everything they needed to be productive and happy. It had always furthered your impression of him as the blueprint for a great manager, and as you added a few reminders to your calendar and appreciated the faint perfume of rose and tulip, you wondered if he worked so hard to make everyone in his life feel valued and cared for, employees, sexual partners, and all.

When it was your turn at last, you scooped up your tablet and headed inside his office. Floor-to-ceiling windows filled the room with morning sunlight, illuminating Seokjin like a character from a movie. It highlighted the sheen of his dark hair and cast a perfect shadow on the faint dimple at the edge of his half-smile as he watched you approach.

“Anything in particular you need to talk about?” he asked as soon as you sat down. It seemed Seokjin was in full business mode by the time you reached him. He was already peering through his wire-rimmed glasses at his computer screen, quickly scrolling through one of your recent reports.

“No, things have been going well from my perspective,” you said, making yourself comfortable in your chair. “Did you have any notes?”

Despite recent distractions, the prior day had allowed you plenty of time and concentration to catch up on your to-do list and you felt confident in what you’d produced. Jieun was right; you’d never professed your love for accounting. But it came to you too naturally to downplay your skill at it.

“I have to say, I’m impressed with what you’ve done for Toro Han Inc.," he said. “They’ve been one of my team’s most difficult clients for years.” You realized then that the file he had pulled up was the project you’d pored over for weeks and finally ironed out only a fortnight ago. You were proud of the work and Seokjin’s praise would certainly lend to your preening over a job well done.

“Their portfolio is usually a disaster by the time I get eyes on it.” He pointed a finger at the screen, shaking it as if almost in disbelief. “And this is one of the best allocation plans you’ve ever come up with. You’ll save Mrs. Han at least 12% on her operating costs alone.”

You nodded. “It did take me a while to unravel, but I think she’ll be pleased at our next quarterly.”

Seokjin slipped off his glasses, laying them against the lacquered wood of his desk. His eyes softened into that genuine look he sometimes gave, like he was the proudest father at a spelling bee.

"I wasn't joking about employee of the year, you know. I can only fill out one managerial ballot, but I'll press real hard on the pen when I sign,” he finished with a chuckle.

You returned a polite laugh of your own, though your heart wasn’t really into the thought. The title didn’t really mean much to you, just another thing to pad your resume with. Still, if he insisted, you'd gratefully accept the recognition.

“Thank you for the flowers, by the way,” you said quietly, leaning forward a little in your seat. You didn’t want Sooyoung or anyone to overhear, but you thought it best to mention it now before the workday inevitably got away from you both. He leaned forward slightly to join your conspiratorial posture, laying his arms against the top of his desk.

“You don’t need to thank me for apology flowers,” he said, lowering his voice to an almost whisper. “I still have a huge deficit to recoup. Eighty percent is hardly up to my standards.”

“Hm,” you considered, making a show of pressing a thoughtful finger to your chin. “Eighty-one percent."

“Oh, already? Boy, I’m moving fast. Nineteen more bouquets then?” He winked.

"It's more for the poem than the flowers. It was…" You trailed off, stopping yourself from saying any of the words that crossed your mind: Romantic. Sweet. Attentive. And lucky.

"I took a Shakespeare course in college for an elective. His sonnets are some of my favorite writing."

"Accountant extraordinaire and a poetry buff besides. What else can you do, Wonder Woman?"

You bit your lip, thoughts shifting forward to the night ahead of you. You had no idea what Seokjin had prepared for your first official session in your new roles, but clearly both of you had been looking forward to it all week. Part of you wondered what would be the harm in continuing the build-up between you. And another part, likely the much more sensible employee part, knew you should be up and back to your desk as soon as you could.

"Like I said before, I have many skills,” you said, sensibility be damned. “I'm open to give you a demonstration, if you’d like.” You were more than ready to show him what you could do, if he would let you.

Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t been prepared for anything suggestive. But he went along with you, his voice still a hushed whisper when he asked, "Like what exactly?"

You glanced cautiously back at the door, shifting your weight forward to make sure your body blocked the space between you from any prying eyes. You lifted his hand from where it rested on his desk and pulled it forward until you had raised a finger to your lips. He leaned toward you with the effort, still looking a little surprised, but made no move to stop you. You gave his fingertip a gentle kiss, meeting his eyes for a moment before darting out your tongue and wetting it. Using the moisture, you slid his innocent finger past your lips. Your tongue glided along the bottom, caressing the bend of each knuckle. You gave him a light, playful bite before continuing until his entire finger rested inside your mouth, massaging the flesh with your tongue, sucking with a firm but gentle pressure.

You watched the skin of his neck flush a gentle pink before going a little redder, the color gliding its way up his skin like slowly shifting watercolor paint.

Slowly, you slid the finger from your mouth, letting your tongue flick against the tip one more time before setting it back onto the top of his desk. He didn’t seem eager to pull it back just yet, eyes still heavily focused on you. Your lips in particular.

You grinned, nodding at his hand. There was a damning smudge of your lipstick at the base of his finger that you didn't want him to miss. His eyes followed yours down and then looked back up at you, back to your mouth. His own lips twitched, slightly parted as though he was fighting against what he wanted to say.

"It’s even more effective on a sensitive target." You held his eyes, punctuating the sentiment with a quick lick of your lips. “Maybe sometime soon I can give you that experience. If you'll let me.”

“Has your mouth always been so desperate?” There was a ragged weight to his tone and a darkness in his eyes that hadn't been there before, as though your teasing had been enough to pull him down to a baser level.

“Only for big things.” You watched the corner of his mouth twitch, his smirk deepening a little more. You wondered how quickly you could shut his door, how fast he could have your pants on the floor. Fuck waiting for tonight, you thought. He swallowed thickly, looking like he might just give in this time.

“You and I need to…” Seokjin paused for an uncomfortable beat, his tone entirely changed when he continued, face quickly smoothing into a much more neutral expression. “…call Mrs. Han’s lawyer today. I still have a couple of questions about the estate contract that I’d rather we clarify now before you finish and submit her portfolio.”

Seokjin cleared his throat, eyes darting behind you. You leaned back in your chair, trying your best to look casual to whoever was standing in his doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a distinguished voice you recognized as CEO Min spoke behind you. You tensed for a moment, unsure of what he might've heard, might've seen. But quickly composing yourself, you turned in your seat and greeted him with a polite nod and a smile.

“Not at all, we were just finishing up,” Seokjin said. CEO Min remained in the doorway, daylight glinting across silver strands in his dark hair. You turned back to face Seokjin, not sure whether you should excuse yourself. He didn't give you any social cues, his eyes focused on the company head. But you could still see the hint of red as it slowly faded from his neck. You suppressed a smile.

“No need to cut things short. I couldn’t get through to your secretary and decided I needed to get away from my desk for a little while. Just wanted to let you know that you’re joining my meeting with the Shibuya office at two and I’ll need to brief you about some changes during lunch.”

As you watched, a subtle tension crept into Seokjin’s shoulders, the flex in his neck muscles so slight you thought you might’ve imagined it. But his face didn’t betray the reaction.

“Aye, aye, captain. I'll be there.”

That seemed to be it for their conversation as you listened to the CEO’s footsteps head away. Guiltily you met Seokjin’s eyes, offering him a smile you hoped showed your apology. Once again your hormones had gotten the best of you. Even though there was something about Seokjin that ratcheted up your daring, you promised yourself you would rein things in like he’d asked. If you couldn’t respect not only the general workplace, but also the rules Seokjin had set in place, it was only going to be a matter of time before the two of you were caught. A quick fuck couldn’t be worth the loss of everything you’d worked for, even for a man like Seokjin.

Determined to make good on your thoughts, you rose from your seat. “Done with me, boss?”

Seokjin hesitated, his eyes coming back from somewhere far off. But as his gaze refocused, his smile returned and he nodded. “For now.”

You glanced down at his still stained hand one more time and then turned and headed back to your desk.

Once you reached your seat, you closed your eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths. This was getting ridiculous. You were an adult with self-control and patience. In less than twelve hours you and Seokjin could indulge in whatever sordid affairs you chose to. And yet the temptation was too great, the taste of the forbidden too strong to resist. You opened your eyes but took a few more calming gulps of air. Then you settled back into your cubicle and defiantly clicked on your computer screen, determined to smother your hormones by drowning them in spreadsheets.

What was it about this man that had driven you so far? A month ago you couldn't have imagined risking so much, teetering on such a dangerous line that might cost you everything you'd worked for. So why were you so willing to throw caution to the wind for him? You imagined how many times you both should've been caught by now.

You chanced a glance towards his office. He was still at his desk, glasses back on his face as he blinked at his monitor, fingers at his lip. One look at that perfect profile and you knew exactly why. Because it was fun. Because you were bored, and he was so goddamn beautiful. Because no one had made you feel this engaged, this desired, this kind of smoldering heat in as long as you could remember.

As usual, you threw yourself into your work, shutting out your personal thoughts and focusing on what needed to be done. The time for self-indulgence would come soon enough, you consoled inside your head.

But not long passed until you were confronted with your desire once more. Seokjin was in front of your desk again, though standing a reasonable distance away.

“Y/N, if you're not in the middle of something else, let's head to Delta and get this conference call out of the way. As you heard, I won’t have time this afternoon and the sooner you can finish the Han file, the sooner we’ll all breathe easier for the quarter.”

Hardly anyone used Delta. The projector was broken, the chairs were mismatched. But it would do for a quick conference call. You wondered why Seokjin was making this client a priority right now, but she had been with the firm for ages and you supposed he wanted to make sure her company and its massive fortunes were happy.

Your little area was much quieter than usual. Ara and Jihye had both gone to a meeting with the actuaries at some point while you’d been busy demonstrating your expertise. Yoongi had disappeared immediately before you went into Seokjin's office and apparently Sooyoung had wandered off as well.

He turned and took off towards the row of conference rooms, so you gathered your tablet and headed in the same direction. Delta was one of the smallest rooms, tucked into a narrow corner at the end of a hall of meeting suites. It seemed that, despite your efforts, Seokjin had been able to stick to business mode after all. So you re-confirmed to yourself that it would be best to stay focused on accounting. When you headed to his place tonight, he’d hopefully let out his playful side.

As you turned into the corner with the entrance to Delta you felt yourself being pulled forward by the waist.

“I should cancel on you tonight, you know that?” Seokjin’s soft voice was a warm, wet whisper on your ear. Any response died in your throat as his tongue traced a searing line against your skin. He moved to place a string of delicate kisses along your neck while his hands slid down your hips and around to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You felt all your carefully built resolve to behave yourself topple like a house of cards in the heat between you. You cursed yourself for wearing pants, wishing you could feel the heat of his hands against your skin. This went against everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of since you'd left his office. It was wrong, it would be so easy for both of you to get caught. But the exhibitionist in you was reveling in all those risks.

You didn't really believe he would cancel, wanted to think he desired every inch of you the way you wanted him. But part of you wanted to cry out at the thought of waiting any longer.

“You’ve been a little cocktease all week. But that show you just put on in my office? It’s a low blow, angel. You’re trying to make me impatient, but I can make it so much worse for you." His hands pressed your body closer to his, his breath tickling your damp skin as he whispered. "Why don’t we see how you feel in another week or two? A month? How desperate will your mouth be by then, hm? How about your unsatisfied cunt?” A shiver raced up your spine.

“I’ve behaved well, haven't I? I've done everything you've asked, sir, right?” Your voice came out in a desperate whine. The scent of him this close again was intoxicating, your desire for him bubbling to the surface and making your head spin a little. “Please don’t make me wait any longer, sir,” you played along.

“I will if you don’t start fucking behaving,” he threatened.

The words were out before your brain could catch them. “I’d like to start fucking. Can we try that?”

He gave an enthusiastic growl in response, lips meeting yours, hands sliding down to your thighs and giving them a healthy squeeze. You jumped into his strong arms, taking to his lips like a woman starved. You heard him shoving open the Delta conference room door behind him, felt him backing you both into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. It looked like Nana had been right too; neither of you could make it to tonight.

His kisses were wet and sloppy, tongue dancing with yours, fighting for control. His hands roughly cupped and squeezed your backside, pawing at your body like a hungry animal. He turned and sat you onto the small table inside, breaking away for a second to give you a dangerous smile. You tossed your tablet onto the table somewhere behind you, fingers grazing something soft along the way, but it didn’t register. All you could absorb was Seokjin’s lips, his tongue, the dark hunger in his eyes.

And then he froze, lust replaced by a look of horror rippling across his face.

“What…?” you whined, tugging at his jacket. And he had the nerve to claim you were the cocktease.

When he didn’t answer, you noticed his gaze, no longer focused on you but somewhere behind you. You froze.

Scrambling up from the table and joining Seokjin’s stare, you found your co-workers staring back, their faces mirroring Seokjin’s horrified expression. Yoongi’s hands were clasped over his bare privates and Sooyoung’s mouth hung open, her skirt pooled around her ankles, her bare backside facing Yoongi. The pair of wadded panties on the table gave away enough.

The silence was deafening, all of you exchanging confused, silent stares for what must’ve lasted a century.

You straightened, some sense flooding back to your brain. "An appointment, huh?" you quipped to Yoongi, though you clearly didn't have any space to talk.

“Do all your one-on-one’s end with you sucking dick?” Yoongi shot back. This smug bastard, you thought. As if he wasn’t the one with no pants on.

“Quiet, both of you," Seokjin interjected. He paused another moment, then grabbed your wrist and pulled you back a slow step. “This never happened,” he said, other hand raised and pointing at the both of them. Sooyoung looked like she wanted to cry, hands tugging down on her blouse in delayed embarrassment. You snatched up your abandoned tablet and Seokjin tugged on you again, backing you both out of the room slowly, nodding at the second clandestine pair. After a moment's hesitation, they both began to nod back and then in a few more tense steps, you and Seokjin were outside the door, him closing it behind you.

“Back to your desk, Y/N,” he said, voice pitched higher and clearly tense. If you hadn’t felt bad about dragging him down this path with you before, you certainly did now.

"Lipstick," you said quietly before clutching your tablet tighter and heading off to the bathroom to straighten yourself out.

Jihye was back at her desk when you returned, making you all the more grateful for your grooming side trip. You didn't look too worse for wear aside from a few hairs out of place. But a quick glance in the mirror let you know your smudged lipstick would've been a dead giveaway to anyone you happened by. She looked up at your approach and finding nothing out of sorts, returned her attention to her computer, popping her gum in the way she did when her mind was working overtime.

Your face felt like it was on fire, but if there was anywhere you didn’t need to look, it was at Seokjin. You had a sneaking suspicion that if he was in his office, his eyes would meet your own, and at the moment it wasn’t something you could handle.

Only a few minutes later, a much more put-together Yoongi came sidling past, the biggest shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“It’s all starting to make sense now,” he said, not even bothering to lower his voice. You glanced back, but Jihye apparently hadn’t bothered looking up. You wondered exactly what was making sense to him, but before you could ask you heard the quiet ring of his desk phone.

“Min.”

A short silence followed.

“Of course.”

Then he was up and heading into Seokjin's office, closing the door behind him.

Well that couldn’t be good. What was Seokjin going to do, bargain with his own employee? At least he had the leverage that Yoongi was pants down with his secretary. Still, the thought of what might happen was chewing a hole through your chest. You had to settle your nerves. You headed to the break room for tea and a long talk with yourself about possibly becoming celibate.

Determined not to crack any cups this time, you carefully made yourself some green tea in one of the company canteen’s reusable mugs. Though at this point you would’ve paid a lot for a flask of something with more strength to add to it.

“Y/N.”

Your shoulders tensed when you recognized the voice. Sooyoung walked up next to you, dipping her head towards you in a respectful nod. She glanced around the break room and you wondered where all your nosy, dallying co-workers were when you needed them. The very moment you wanted to avoid a private conversation and their eavesdropping ears and slow feet were nowhere to be seen. You gripped your mug a little tighter, cursing your luck.

“We should uh…we should go have a drink tonight or something.” Sooyoung’s voice was quiet and soothing, a discreet skill she’d picked up over countless strained phone calls with angry business partners, banking management, and anyone else who looked to stir up trouble in Seokjin’s area. She was a skilled gatekeeper, the kind usually able to de-escalate even the most volatile situation. And it seemed the skill had made its way to her personal habits.

You glanced back behind the both of you to make sure no one had wandered in, then gave her what you hoped was a considerate shake of your head.

“I’d love to, Sooyoung, but I have plans after work.”

There were a few awkward beats of silence in which you took a sip of your tea and Sooyoung looked as though she might be on the edge of tearing up at your rejection.

“Listen, about today-” she started quietly.

“Don’t worry about it, Sooyoung,” you said, cutting her off, softening your own tone to mirror hers. Truthfully you felt bad. It might’ve been a good idea for the two of you to use this as a bonding moment, to learn more about each other. Or, if your past full of co-workers out for blood had taught you anything, at least a conversation with her might prepare you if you needed to be on your guard. Still, you couldn’t tonight. “You heard Seokjin. Nothing happened, alright?”

“We’re not children, Y/N. Something happened. All of us were wrong for being in the office, but…” She took a breath and leaned a little closer, her voice only just audible. “Well, I didn’t know you two were dating.” She shook her head to herself. “I should've realized it when he closed his door the other night. He never does that.”

She had always had a look about her, fresh-faced and innocent. Sooyoung wasn’t soft-spoken, not in the same gentle, almost timid way Ara was. But she still had the air of someone who had a lot of mistakes to make before life made her a bit more callous or jaded in the way it did most.

Something had happened to you during your time in the corporate world to make you feel soft for people like her. Your days being backstabbed and grifted out of money by women with that exact face had somehow been forgotten. You took another slow sip, eyeing her quietly through the waving steam of your mug.

“We’re…” you started, then trailed off. You were what? What could you possibly explain about your sexual business deal? “It’s extremely complicated and I’d really appreciate if we could just move on. It’s really for me and Seokjin to sort out.”

“I know you don’t know me that well, Y/N, but I promise I won’t say a word.” You felt a pang of guilt at her obvious sincerity. Though you’d always liked Sooyoung, she hadn’t seemed to mesh into the friendship you’d formed with Ara and Jihye. She’d never joined the three of you for a night out and now that you were looking at her through fresh eyes, you regretted not pushing a relationship outside of work a little more.

“Just please don’t tell anyone about me and Yoongi, I’m really begging you. H-he could get in so much trouble.” The last part she mumbled more to herself than to you. You took in her body language, the way she wrung her fingers together, the worry as she chewed the inside of her cheek. It confused you more than anything. Yoongi certainly didn’t seem concerned when he’d strolled into Seokjin’s office.

“Sooyoung, please don’t worry so much. You’ve known Seokjin for much longer than I have. He’s not the type of manager to punish you or Yoongi for something like this, especially when he’s not exactly innocent either. As long as you keep your activities off the property or at least find a room with a lock on it, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“I meant please don’t tell anyone about us dating.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised at her real concern. “Sure, I won’t say anything. But you know there’s nothing wrong with the two of you dating.” Not like he’s your boss or anything, you thought to yourself, but didn’t chance giving her the reminder.

She winced. “…His family…wouldn’t approve of it.”

“Oh. Don’t worry, Sooyoung, your secret is safe with me. I didn’t meet Yoongi until I started working here. I don’t even know his family.”

You placed a hand on hers, pausing them in their wringing and meeting her eyes. “I can’t tonight, but let’s plan on hanging out, alright? This whole thing is kind of crazy, but I’d love to get to know you outside these four walls.”

The smile that stretched across her face was a little blinding. “I’d hug you if you weren’t holding something scalding hot.”

The knot of anxiety that had formed in your chest loosened just a little. You only hoped whatever conversation Seokjin and Yoongi had would work out just as peacefully for all four of you.

The work day continued without another hitch, everyone moving along with their assignments as though nothing had happened. Seokjin had gone off to meet with the CEO just before lunch and Yoongi didn’t even make any more smart remarks, a fact that threatened to make you more suspicious, but you decided to wave it off as charity. Likely, you were all embarrassed and hopefully would just put the entire thing behind you. Perhaps even laugh about it one day. At least you could dream.

Near the end of the day, you saw Yoongi rushing back to his desk, slamming down a notebook and typing furiously. A few frantic curses followed, along with more abuse to his keyboard. You exchanged a subtle look with Ara before turning back to look at him.

His face was in his hands. Then he was up, rushing into Seokjin’s office even as Sooyoung protested the interruption. Only moments later, a flustered looking Seokjin was hurriedly following Yoongi to his desk, glasses on, squinting over the blond’s shoulder.

“Oh boy.” A few moments of silence passed.

“What’s going on?” Jihye asked, breaking the tension.

“Don’t panic, Yoongi,” Seokjin said. “It must be some formulaic error, we just have to find it.”

“A coding error in one of two-thousand formulas and about a hundred-thousand transactions,” Yoongi said, an edge of fear tingeing his voice. “An error that all our software has glossed over for weeks. An error with massive investments riding on its outcome. And the day of the submission deadline is when we catch it.”

You stood from your desk after Yoongi’s end of the world speech, looking over his screen and recognizing the account. Suddenly, you understood his fear. Anything having to do with that company meant billions of dollars were on the line at all times. It struck you as odd that Yoongi was working on it alone, when usually Seokjin would have paired him with someone else.

“Send me a copy of the file,” you said. “I’ve worked on their accounts before, I’ll help you look.”

Yoongi’s mouth dropped open, shock at your offer of assistance rippling across his face. He ran a tongue along the inside of his cheek and nodded, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like gratitude.

You spent the next hour scrolling through spreadsheets and reports, reviewing file after file in your internal and brokerage software, looking for the most common mistakes and coming up with nothing. The evening stretched on past closing time while you scratched your head, with Ara, Jihye, and Sooyoung all wishing the three of you luck and taking off for the night.

Seokjin seemed particularly out of sorts over the whole ordeal, repeating questions, checking the same information multiple times. He was clearly frazzled. The three of you pored over the files on your computers, printed pages, and complicated calculators. At some point you heard Yoongi groan noisily, slamming his phone back onto his desk and ending a call you hadn’t even heard him pick up.

"The bank’s emergency lines close at six. If we don’t fix this in fifteen minutes it’ll be too late."

Seokjin had taken up station beside Yoongi, his laptop open on Yoongi’s desk. He had pulled off his dark suit jacket, loosened the heather gray of his tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt to his elbows. It was a sight you’d revel in any other time, but your focus had been drawn to this case. Unable to resist cracking it like a stubborn nut, a puzzle to solve seemed the perfect remedy for your rampant libido.

Just before six, Seokjin was able to call in a solid with a banking friend to buy you all an extra hour. Still, things were looking pretty grim as the minutes ticked by.

There were two reports you couldn’t reconcile. You thought back to your master’s courses, every obscure scrap of advice your professors had drilled into your head. You mulled over your internships and those early days at your first company where your mind was pushed to the limits with on-site tests and problems to solve. It just didn’t make sense to you that a case like this could fall prey to human error. Your company’s software took so much of the legwork out of your day-to-day that a mistake like this could have implications on accounts across the board. What else might not have been caught?

“Wait!” you shouted, jumping up from your chair. You ran back to Yoongi’s desk, leaning between him and Seokjin and taking control of Yoongi’s mouse. You clicked around a few of the software’s settings, checking and unchecking boxes until at last the system flagged a congruency error.

“Here! It’s here!” With a few corrections to an overly complicated set of formulas, the numbers finally registered correctly.

Yoongi’s groan of relief was elated. "Thank fuck, you over-achieving goddess.”

Seokjin was up from his chair, rushing into his office to get the data files sent to whoever he’d called earlier. You helped Yoongi crosscheck the rest of the code’s output, making sure that nothing else was out of balance.

“Listen,” he said when you both finally tore away from the screen. “I know you and Seokjin are fucking, but I swear not to rat you out.”

“Oh gee, thanks. You know, you’re too gracious.”

“I mean it, I swear I won’t say a word.” He sighed. “I really owe you for this.”

“Sooyoung asked me not to say anything about you guys either. That your family wouldn’t want you with her. Are you guys having a Romeo and Juliet scenario?”

Yoongi clenched his jaw then made an irritated grunt. “I wish she wouldn’t worry so much. It’s not as serious as all that. But if you wouldn’t mind keeping it to yourself.”

“And you’re serious about her?” You crossed your arms. Not that it was any of your business, but Yoongi had always seemed the aloof, rich boy type who might toss away a partner at a moment’s notice. If you were hoping to build a friendship with Sooyoung, you didn’t want to start off knowing she’d get her heart broken by some spoiled playboy.

But Yoongi held your eyes and with the most sincerity you’d ever seen him muster said, “I love her.”

Well. You swallowed any threats you’d prepared in Sooyoung’s defense. Clearly you didn’t know him at all.

Once Seokjin was satisfied that any problems with the case were resolved, Yoongi gathered up his things to leave for the night. You followed his lead, wondering if you would have enough time to get home, shower, change, and get to Seokjin's for your session. The day had left you with enough tension in your muscles that you knew a hot bath and a good night's sleep would be the only remedy. You'd just have to rush to make it on time.

Seokjin was making his way towards the door of his office as you looked up, suit jacket draped across the expanse of his shoulders like a princely cape. He caught your eyes just before Yoongi came cutting by between the two of you.

"Happy fucking," he said with a cheerful grin and a wave before hurrying off towards the elevators. That rat bastard. You heard Seokjin groan, an uncharacteristic vein vaguely flexing on his neck. He turned to you, eyebrows knitting together and looking almost worried.

“Are you still comfortable to continue tonight?” he said, voice hushed. It was true, you were still in the office and more people than you cared for already knew too much about your relationship. A little discretion might go a long way at this point.

You nodded your head to confirm and he set off down the hall, leaving you to follow him to the elevators. You were both quiet on your way down, Seokjin only speaking as you both approached your car.

“We should go somewhere for a bit of dinner first.”

You must've looked confused at his words. He pursed his lips a little, face turning a little more serious.

“If you still want to have the session, you need to eat something first. You’ll need the energy.”

You drove your cars separately since it couldn't be helped, ending up at a small restaurant about halfway to Seokjin's apartment. Once you were settled in at your table and the waiter had taken your dinner orders, Seokjin swallowed half his wine glass in one go. He sat the drink down and ran his other hand through his dark locks, eyes taking on that faraway quality you remembered from the morning.

"Rough day, huh?" you asked, taking a sip from your own glass.

"In more ways than you know," he said with a sigh. He was eyeing the rest of his wine glass as if he wanted to continue, but was holding himself back and if you didn’t both have to drive to his place, you might’ve encouraged him to let loose and have more. You loved spending time with this Seokjin, the one who felt like he could let his guard down a little and relax. Not that you doubted that his work persona was genuine, but no one was so cheerful all the time. You wondered what, besides almost getting caught cock-deep in you on company property and almost having his employee fuck over a billion-dollar account, had added to his stress today.

“Y/N, I feel like I owe you another massive apology. Please don't let me make a habit of this."

You tilted your head a little at the words. "Apology for what?"

He breathed out another sigh and went quiet for a moment, eyes roaming over your face as if searching for something. "I find myself a little addicted to you and I admit I got carried away with that this week.”

“Keep your apology. You weren’t the only one," you assured him. “We both lost our minds a little, Seokjin.”

“I enjoy flirting with you, at work or otherwise. But if we could keep our urges in check a little better and show some restraint, it’ll be a much less dangerous affair.” His hand went to his tie, tugging on the knot and loosening it completely, the straps of deep gray falling loosely against his shirt.

"After today, I think we can both agree on that. I mean, not that I didn't want anything to happen, but…"

"I was going to lay you out on that table and fuck you raw," he said bluntly. "And you were going to let me. We were like crazed, hormonal teenagers.”

You made a pleasant hum, taking another sip of your wine. “Feels good, doesn't it?” Truthfully, you found yourself in two parts. On the one hand, you knew you were being reckless, following this forbidden fruit and jeopardizing your career for a few tastes of it. But on the other hand, you were reveling in that same danger. It was like some drugged high that you needed to get your fill of before you could return to your senses, even if you knew it'd be best to stop now.

“Yeah,” Seokjin agreed with you. “But I’d like to have more control than that. I intend to.”

"Control is your thing, after all," you said with a deferring sweep of your hand.

He smiled, but you saw something sad in it. “You know, what I said the other night.”

“Oh, when you were telling me about how you’re Mr. Perfect?” you teased.

“I really was trying to say that I’m not that. I think people only see one side of me usually and I was afraid you’d gotten that impression. When in reality, I have an impressive repertoire of flaws.”

“I’d be shocked if you didn’t. We’re human at the end of the day, what else would I expect? You don’t have to worry about any pretense with me, Seokjin. I promise I’m not blinded by your godlike exterior.”

He leaned forward as if wanting to hear more. “Hmm, godlike you say?”

"Perhaps. But Yoongi did call me a goddess today, so we're basically on the same playing field, you and I."

That drew out a genuine laugh, like silver bells in a gentle breeze, and you felt the tension of the day fading away from the table along with it.

Once your meals were served, the conversation took on a more flirtatious air. Seokjin ran through a few BDSM basics with you, including both of your hard no's in the bedroom. You were grateful the table chosen for you was quite secluded, sparing anyone nearby from hearing you both going on about bloodplay and non-consensual scenarios.

“So why not just sex?” you asked. “Why BDSM?”

“I could ask you that same question. And yet you didn’t say no when I said I wanted a submissive. You wanted to explore something more dynamic than just sex, even after reading my book. I’m the same.”

After taking a napkin to dab across his lips, Seokjin tossed it onto his plate, a clear signal that your meal was drawing to a close.

“Let’s save our deeper talks for later, hm? If we both enjoy tonight, we’ll learn more about each other’s motivations soon enough.”

Satiated, you both drove to his apartment after Seokjin insisted you didn't need to change. You headed up to his apartment together, and once you reached the door Seokjin paused, turning to face you, his mouth in a stern line.

“When we walk through this door, Y/N, the rules change. ”

You wanted to smile at the gentle reminder, but didn’t. “I know what I signed up for, sir.”

The door to his apartment swung open, automatic lights clicking on. And there, in the middle of Seokjin's living room you could see a sleek black trunk, leather oiled so well it had a deep sheen to it that could be seen all the way from the entrance. Movement near it caught your eye, drawing your attention to what you could only guess were thick, black ropes, dangling idly from the ceiling.

Seokjin slid his jacket from his shoulders, draping it across his arm before extending a hand out to you, inviting you to cross the threshold. You had seen him smirk a million times before, but never as mischievous as the one now gracing his plump lips and spreading up to his eyes, making them shimmer like decadent hot chocolate. Clearly the ropes swinging gently beyond his shoulders were something he had been looking forward to sharing with you all week.

“I haven’t seen you here before. Are you meeting someone?” Taehyung slid the man his drinks as he asked. Since one of the girls had just started a set, he was the only customer at the bar and Taehyung thought he’d better at least try to earn a tip.

“Nah,” the man said, knocking back the drink at once, and tapping his finger on the bar for another. “Just here for the scenery and a few drinks.”

“Ah,” Taehyung nodded in understanding. Of course he was here for what most people came for, the T and A. “Well if you need anything, let me know. My name’s Taehyung.” He pointed at the little gold pin fastened to his vest, then loosened his tie, trying to will away the sudden nerves, and trying to stop staring at the man’s hands. It was proving a difficult task and he was stuck trying to figure out how a person’s hands could be attractive in the first place.

“Jungkook,” the man responded, and Taehyung looked up to be greeted by his new acquaintance’s smile, sending a rush of life surging through him. “Tell me about this place, Taehyung.”

“Ah, not much to tell really,” he said, as he pulled himself together and poured another glass. “Just another strip joint.” Taehyung slid him the second drink and made sure to choose his words carefully. “They keep it pretty upscale though. The boss kicks out anyone he thinks might cause trouble. They let me keep a good stock back here too, high quality shit.”

Jungkook took the drink again in a gulp, then grabbed up his water. “You’re not kidding,” he chuckled, winking at Taehyung and flashing that smile again and somehow the stars made it back into Taehyung’s eyes.

“How long have you been bartending?” Jungkook asked, folding his hands on the bar. “The friend that suggested this place said the drinks were the best part. I assume he meant because of you.”

The focus on him was a little overwhelming. Taehyung never thought he was great at reading signals, but with all the mostly naked women flitting about left and right, it was more than flattering that this man was sat here staring at him with those intense eyes instead, looking inviting in every way possible against the backdrop of flashing lights and smoke. The collared shirt he wore was suddenly feeling a little warm and Taehyung’s hands started fidgeting with his tie again.

“Just a few weeks. But I’ve been making drinks my whole life. Family trade.” Jungkook nodded and swiveled again in his seat, attention drawn elsewhere. Taehyung had learned everything about bartending from his father. He hadn't, however, learned how to cope with the man’s death, and the memory of his loss was enough to bring him back down to earth. To remember how he had ended up here doing what he loved in a place he hated.

But then, just as quickly, Jungkook’s attention was back on him, big, brown eyes studying his face, lips still curved in a friendly smile and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile too, welcoming the distraction.

“Do you want me to take your jacket?” he offered, thinking it must be getting warm in here wearing that. Although he selfishly just wanted to see more of the man’s physique. Jungkook seemed well-filled out and now that he couldn’t ignore his interest, Taehyung was dying to see more.

“No thanks, I’m not staying long,” Jungkook said quickly and turned his back to the bar again. Taehyung noticed he was fidgeting a little, swinging this way and that, focusing and refocusing on parts of the club. Was he nervous? Was Taehyung making him nervous? He hoped his ogling hadn’t been that obvious and even though he knew it was dangerous to care, the last thing he wanted was to chase him away.

“Another?” Taehyung offered, pulling away the empty glass.

“Not if I want to drive home tonight,” Jungkook laughed and took another sip of his water, attention now focused on the stage. No, not the stage, just past it where someone Taehyung would be happy to never see again was standing, schmoozing with the customers, no doubt.

“That’ll be the boss, Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung offered, desperately wanting to continue the conversation. “You’ll want to stay on his good side.”

Jungkook stayed focused on Namjoon a little longer before turning back to the bar.

“Thanks for the drinks, Taehyung.” He pulled a few bills from inside his jacket and laid them on the counter, sliding them towards the flustered bartender. And as Taehyung reached out to pick them up, Jungkook didn’t move his hand as he expected, the contact of skin on skin sending prickles surging up his arm. Taehyung looked up and met Jungkook’s eyes again, eyes he was quite sure he had already fallen for that were smiling at him again.

“I’ll be back, if only just for you,” Jungkook said in a voice he could only barely hear above the music. “Since my friend was right,” he added, but Taehyung barely noticed, the thudding of his heart drowning out anything otherwise audible. All he could do was swallow and nod.

After Jungkook left, Taehyung couldn’t keep the smile off his face. For the first time in weeks, he felt a spark of happiness, the slightest inkling that maybe someone could care about whether he lived or died. And even if he was reading all the signals wrong and the man was straighter than an arrow, at least he’d secured a nice, tipping customer who appreciated a good drink. He took to cleaning the glasses, letting his mind drift to the image of Jungkook, one that he hoped would get him through the night.

“Who was that, Tae?” Taehyung’s back stiffened at the voice and he had to fight against his own muscles to stay relaxed. He swirled the now dry glass in his hand, the rag clearly finished in its duty.

“Just a customer, I guess. Seems like a nice guy,” he said, praying he sounded nonchalant. If Namjoon suspected anything, he’d ban the guy from coming back and Taehyung desperately didn’t want that to happen. Namjoon’s hand landed on his shoulder, and the older man leaned close to him, sizing him up with cold, penetrating eyes that stirred up a dark emotion inside Taehyung’s chest; a hatred so strong the bitter taste of it was already seeping into his mouth.

Namjoon took the now very clean glass from Taehyung’s hands and held it up to the lights. “Look, I know you don’t want to be here. But I think I’ve been pretty kind to you, Tae.” He sat down the glass on its stack and smiled at Taehyung. Despite the gesture, his eyes stayed empty, sucking away all of the warmth Jungkook had left him with and, along with the use of his late father’s nickname for him, were sending his emotions into a frenzy. “You work for me now, and I generously let you keep your tips and your life. If you’re not happy working for me, I’ll be glad to cut your throat. I think those are pretty simple terms.”

Taehyung pursed his lips and Namjoon let out a hearty laugh, slapping him on the back.

“Listen, if that guy comes back, keep an eye on him for me. He was giving me narc vibes. He didn’t even seem interested in the stage. If you get any hints that he’s planning to cause trouble, tell me. Think you can handle that?”

Taehyung nodded reluctantly, making a quiet vow to himself that he would protect Jungkook at all costs. Experience taught him that Namjoon had a knack for destroying everything that meant anything to anyone, and even though Taehyung had only just met him, he knew Jungkook didn’t deserve any ire from Namjoon.

“I like you, kid, and the customers do too. Don’t give me any reason not to keep you here.” With that, Namjoon left the bar and headed back out into the crowd and before Taehyung could process any of his thoughts, he was accosted by a rush of customers. He went about making orders, swallowing his anger and returning to his numbed normalcy. In truth, he wanted to throw a tantrum, to upend the entire bar and leave a trail of wasted liquor and broken glass. But now he had a mission, however small. And the silent rebellion against his tormentor coupled with the memory of Jungkook’s smiling face was enough to keep him going, for a few hours at least.

After his shift was done, Taehyung tugged off his vest, emptying the pockets of the tips he’d gotten all night. As he counted through the bills, a little white card fell from his hands, landing on the floor at his feet. Curious, he bent to pick it up, trying to remember who had given him a business card and why.

“I can help you” it read in scratchy, black ink. Even more confused, he narrowed his eyes and flipped it over, not sure what kind of prank someone was trying to play. But Taehyung’s eyes went wide at the text and he shoved the money and the card into the pocket of his jeans before rushing out of the side door to his car.

“Jungkook” it had read, with a phone number scrawled beneath it.

Y/N: I hope you're ready for me.

The sensible side of you knew it wasn’t healthy to want to medicate your rage with a man. The sensible side of you knew you would have to face your problems and you could be using now to brainstorm a solution instead of racing towards a temporary relief. But you had no intentions of being sensible tonight. Anger was rolling off you in waves, expanding in the cabin of your car each time your mother’s face lit up your phone screen. Though you did find a small amount of joy in pressing the ignore button over and over.

Yoongi: It’s not me that needs to be ready, princess. Almost here?

And in between calls, a message from someone you actually wanted to hear from.

Y/N: 5 min

You texted back quickly, a vague awareness that driving this fast down a side street while texting was a dangerous gamble.

Yoongi’s office was closer than his house, and by some miracle he had still been there working. Though owning half the car lots and a few popular nightclubs in town always seemed to keep him working late hours, so maybe not that much of a miracle. Four minutes later, you whipped into the parking lot and checked your face in the rearview mirror before sliding from your car and heading inside, thanking your mother for her advice for the first time tonight. Your lipstick still looked great.

Yoongi was sat back in his desk chair, eyes drifting from papers on his desk up to your figure standing in the doorway, the dim lights of his deserted office in contrast with his white t-shirt and striking blonde hair. Since he was dressed so casually, you thought he must not have had any clients that day, instead burying himself in paperwork like he constantly did.

When he didn't move from his chair, instead staring at you with expectant eyes you made your way across the office floor to stand next to his desk. He smirked up at you without words, hands finding your waist and nudging you in front of him, sitting you back onto the edge of his desk.

"It's pretty rude of you to come here looking this good,” he said in a quiet voice, fingers tracing the thin fabric on your hips. “You're way too dolled up for coming to see me.”

"Well, I am coming from my own arranged marriage engagement party after all," you responded bitterly.

He chuckled and slid a hand down the front of your dress, thumb stroking against the bare skin of your exposed thigh. You reluctantly swallowed the intense desire for him to continue.

"Then I'm glad I get to see you after such a happy occasion," he continued, eyes still on your thigh for another moment before he stood and focused on your face. Even as your eyelids wavered under his stare, you couldn’t place the power he had over you, easily quelling you with only a look. Call it aura or spirit, but something about him always managed to surround you and command obedience. But you didn’t mind. For the most part, you wanted to do whatever he asked anyway, a submission few were privileged to.

"Me and not your future husband, it would seem," he continued talking while you got lost watching his lips. One side of his mouth curved into a smile before he planted a lazy kiss on your cheek, fingers still conveniently on your thigh, brushing against you in soft strokes, already fanning the spark awakened in you just by being near him. “He bad in bed or something?”

“Uh…I wouldn’t know,” you admitted. Your bad habit returned as you chewed on your bottom lip at the thought of Hoseok. Near the end of your drive over your anger had slowly subsided, and as it cleared you remembered that Hoseok was a nice guy who you'd called a friend since childhood and who was tossed into this just like you were. You promised yourself you'd call him tomorrow and apologize and maybe put your heads together on how you would get out of this mess. But for now, your sole mission was to exorcise your anger in a specific way.

"Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of this office today. My place?" he asked, shoving his phone in his pocket and pulling your body into his, wrapping you in his arm and his intoxicating scent.

“Ok. I’m pretty sure your hot tub would make me feel better. Or if you feel bad for me, you could give me a massage,” you tested. He hadn’t done it often, but Yoongi was so skilled with his hands you almost thought you would be happy with him rubbing away your tension and then letting you fall asleep on his chest. Almost.

A smile, a surprisingly tender kiss on your temple, and he was pulling you out the door with him by your hand. It was sometimes embarrassing how much you had come to depend on him. Even though your relationship was based solely on sex, Yoongi always managed to leave you you feeling calm and cared for. He originally called you his princess as a joke, a slight to the privileged life you were born into. But actions spoke louder than words and you often left his presence feeling like one too.

You were already in his car, speeding out of the parking lot before he asked, “So you’ve never fucked him. Do you even know the guy?” You smiled to yourself at the question. You knew what you and Yoongi were to each other, what this was. But it still made you feel some kind of joy that he cared, that he asked at all. You really hadn’t expected him to give a damn.

“I’ve known him all my life,” you sighed. “Trust me when I say that doesn’t make it any easier to be forced to marry him.” You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, the entire situation threatening to fire up your anger all over again. “Let’s forget about it, it’s not something you have to worry about.”

“Mm. As long as you still bring that ass to me, it doesn’t matter.” He reached across the car, hand gently squeezing your thigh. “You belong to me, princess.”

“I think I belong to myself actually,” you countered playfully, resting your hand on his. The sentiment, dripping with his possessiveness, and his hand, grasping your skin, was much more the direction you wanted the night to go and you were already wound up and ready to start your stress relief. But then he pulled his hand away and in your disappointment, your hand followed his, settling on his thigh instead.

“And yet here we are again, speeding off to my place so I can make you scream my name into a pillow.” He spared a glance down at your already creeping fingers, now stroking up his thigh, and then refocused on the road. But you could see the rise in the corners of his lips. In the quiet moments that followed, you traced along his thigh until you reached your goal, rolling your fingers gently over the slow growth in his pants.

“We’ll be there soon,” he said as a comfort to your clear neediness, but it wasn’t enough to deter you. The movement against his jeans had already sparked a reaction in him, the lump in his lap growing partly due to the friction you imparted and partly, you were sure, thanks to his own anticipation. Your fingers pressed against it, and you heard him swallow, saw the rise and fall of his chest quicken just a little.

“Don’t start something you can't finish,” was his only warning. As neighborhoods flew by, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you got to his house. But he had already stoked the fire with tonight’s barely there touches and you felt more than a little rebellious besides.

He didn’t react as your hand unbuttoned his jeans and slid inside, palming his half-hard cock until it was fully erect. But he did finally grace you with a groan when you pulled it free, air hissing through his teeth.

“Princess…” he warned again. An out-of-character, second warning. It seemed he was in a patient mood tonight and you weren't sure if you wanted that or not.

Eyeballing his cock in your hand, the deep shade of pink reminding you that you hadn’t seen him in a few days and he probably wanted this just as much as you did, your thumb slid over the head, dipping just so into the slit, and Yoongi hissed again. You knew you were already pushing it. Yoongi was always adamant about being in control, always doing the teasing and giving the orders, never putting up with your, admittedly, weak attempts at dominance. But, you rationalized, what guy would turn down a hand job in a nice car?

Your hand moved across him in long strokes, urging the precum just peeking at the head to spill down the side and over your fingers. When you raised your hand to your lips, tongue slipping across the liquid, certain he was watching you much more than the road, he groaned and you felt a sudden jerk as the car slowed and came to a stop. You looked around, seeing him parked on the side of the street in a nondescript neighborhood that was definitely not his own, rows of houses poorly lit by dim streetlights.

"Since you can't wait like a good girl, I guess we’ll get started right here." His hand was in your hair, a rough tug pulling your body closer to his as he leaned across the center console. And instead of kissing your waiting lips like he knew you wanted, his mouth went to your neck, a sharp bite making you cry out. The rush of his sudden aggression had the adrenaline already coursing through your chest.

“You always think you can get away with whatever you want, don’t you?” he growled into your neck, and before you could speak he was piercing you again, another hard bite lower on your neck, chased by his tongue, lathing across the spots of bruises you’d likely have tomorrow. You cried out again, beyond addicted to the pain, more than addicted to everything he did.

He leaned up, hand still in your hair, the fingers of his free hand now circling the wet skin he’d bitten as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “You want my cock so bad that you can’t wait ten more minutes?”

“I just wanted to make you feel good, baby,” you whined your poor excuse, feeling the simmering heat burn between your thighs at his words.

“You do that on my terms,” he said flatly, eyes darting to his lap, peering at his stiff length still leaking arousal, then looked back up at you. “Suck,” he ordered, fingers tightening in your hair. You winced at the pain and his hand loosened just a little, but he still held tight. You looked up at him and then your eyes darted to the window just past him. It may have been after midnight and the windows may have been slightly tinted, but all it would take is one nosy neighbor to cause a scene.

“Oh, you weren’t worried before about anyone noticing you stroking my cock, but now privacy is suddenly an issue?” He let go of your hair, leaning his seat back just a bit and lifted his arms behind his head, raising an expectant eyebrow at you. “Suck, I said. Make me feel good.”

You swallowed, not sure if this was the kind of punishment you had bargained for, but shamelessly wanting it anyway. You gave him another glance before leaning up in your seat onto your knees and bringing your face down in his lap.

“Good girl, go on,” Yoongi prodded, hand already sliding down to cup your ass through your dress. Steadying yourself with one arm, you wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock and slid your tongue across the head, savoring the taste of his pre-cum, bitter and a little salty.

Your tongue traced slowly around the tip and you intended to make a full effort of it, exploring every bit of his length, but a sharp slap on your ass made you yelp and look up at him in surprise.

“I didn't say to play with your food, princess. I told you to suck. my. cock.” He punctuated the last few words with more hard slaps against your backside, the last drawing a whimper from your lips. “If you disobey me again tonight, I swear you’ll be edging for a month.”

With a threat hanging over you that you knew he’d make good on, you leaned forward again, this time sliding your lips down until you reached the base of his length. As you lifted your lips and slid down again, his hand went back to rubbing your ass, a contented sigh from his lips reaching your ears.

For all his blustering and roughness, Yoongi always seemed to melt under your touch in rare moments when he let you focus on him. That and he had been weak for a blowjob since you'd met him.

You continued, suckling as you bobbed your head in his lap and Yoongi’s moans changed from shaky breaths to deeper, barely audible moans. His free hand landed in your hair, gentle strokes letting you know he wanted nothing more than for you to keep going.

“Fuck girl, your mouth…” he groaned, and you increased your speed, hand back to pumping the base. Never the loud lover, each deep moan that passed Yoongi’s lips felt like a quiet praise. You could feel his muscles tightening, sure he would be unwinding soon.

Loud voices from outside broke your rhythm and you froze in panic, afraid to lift your head. You could feel Yoongi’s thighs tense, felt him sit up a little. Shit! you panicked. What would happen if someone called the cops? As bitter as your family sometimes made you, you weren't really planning to ruin their image by having your face plastered across the papers for giving a blowjob in public.

A few tense moments of quiet, and then you felt Yoongi’s thighs slacken. “Relax. Relax, princess. It’s just some drunk kids, they can't see us.” He stroked a hand across your hair. “Keep going, I plan to cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

With his cock still in your mouth you worked back up to speed and his breath chased you there, letting you know he really was on edge. His hips started jerking up into your mouth, and you removed your hand and tried to relax your jaw and take him in fully without gagging, the size of him making it a difficult task. Yoongi’s hands held onto your hair tighter as he all but took over your job, pumping himself up into your mouth to meet you. Typical Yoongi, you thought in amusement. Even when you tried to make it about him, he still found a way to be in control.

“Sh…shit…” his hips jerked up one last time and you felt the warm, bitter liquid on the back of your tongue, spilling into your mouth and down your throat in short bursts.

His body relaxed back into his seat, hands falling from your hair and you leaned up, licking your lips, quite sure that your lipstick was probably non-existent at this point, but more than pleased with yourself for not gagging. You gave him a satisfied look as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, and slid a slow tongue across your lips.

“You impatient little shit,” he cursed in a breathless voice and you giggled, settling back into the passenger seat, feeling more than satisfied with yourself.

His cheeks were a rosy pink, dark pupils expanded in lust, and his eyes were following your every move. You could tell he was calculating, trying to decide how to pay you back, probably in both a good and a bad way.

He reached down, shoving himself back into his pants, and sitting up. “Take off your panties, dirty girl.”

You tugged at the edges of your dress without hesitation, lifting up to pull the material up over your hips. Your fingers slipped under the edge of your lacy, black almost-nothings and your eyes fell to him, watching his reaction as you slid them down your legs. His eyes followed them the entire way to the floor.

Yoongi breathed a short laugh, then started the car and took off again. His hand was on your thighs seconds later, smacking the soft flesh there. “Spread,” he ordered.

And for the rest of the ride you were at his mercy. His fingers teased your wet slit, varying his attention between your sensitive clit and your dripping hole, just enough to leave you dizzy and breathless, but never taking you far enough. You closed your eyes under his touch, searching in vain for your orgasm between his movements.

As his fingers curled into your folds for what felt like the millionth time, you moaned out, over sensitive and understimulated at once.

“You feel so tight, princess. How can you be this tight after taking my cock almost every night?”

Your eyes fluttered open at his words and you realized you were no longer moving, already at his place, the beautiful house looming over the vehicle. And part of you couldn't wait to get inside, maybe soak in the hot tub until you fell asleep. But a much more important part of you needed release to come first. Now.

You relaxed into his hand, his plunging fingers finally dragging you over the edge.

“Gonna cum?” you heard him whisper.

“Y-ye…” You didn’t want to speak. If he just stayed…right there…you…

And without warning, his hand pulled away and your eyes snapped open, barely biting back the rage encouraging you to scream from the loss of contact.

“You… son of a bitch,” you seethed and were met with a cackle. Yes, Yoongi cackled as he swung open his car door and stepped out, leaving you contemplating how easy it would be to snap his neck.

Moments later, he pulled open the passenger door and took your hand, guiding you out of the seat and pulling you into his chest as your dress fell back down over your hips.

“I told you, we do things on my terms, princess. You cum when I say.” As if you didn't know. As if he hadn't been dragging out your pleasure for months now. As if keeping you wanting and on edge wasn’t his favorite game to play.

His hands slid your dress back up, baring your ass to any neighbor that wanted to see, panties lost somewhere on the floor of his car. He cupped and squeezed the flesh of your backside, pressing more, softer bites into the skin of your neck.

“Yoongi,” you whimpered, the need between your thighs intolerable, lost again between his hands and lips, so much that you were unprepared when those same hands lifted your body up. Your instincts had you wrapping your legs around his waist, holding onto his arms. You heard his foot kick the door of the car closed, while his lips finally, mercifully landed on your own, blessing you with a kiss at last. Somewhere between his lips pressing against yours and pulling away, you found he had carried you all the way inside the house. Yoongi was staring at you, breath coming quickly, and the closeness of his face to yours, his body to yours was unbearable.

“Please, I need you so bad,” you begged, back pressed against the front door as he held you, wetness pressed against his shirt. He ran a slow tongue across his lips before carrying you into a room just off the entrance, the kitchen, laying you back on a table.

“You’re really on edge, aren’t you? All I have to do is…” he punctuated, slipping a lone finger inside you and you lifted your hips, begging for more without words.

“God, the sight of you worked up for me on this table. Why haven’t I fucked you here before?” His finger prodded your wetness, thumb just grazing your button, and already you could have come undone.

“F..fuck me here now, please,” you cried.

He pulled his hand away, stepping between your legs and leaning over your body. “You think you deserve that, after the shit you pulled tonight? I should leave you on edge for the rest of the night.”

“Please, Yoongi…”

“Beg more,” his voice rumbled as he pressed two fingers back inside of you, curled just enough to have you crying out again.

“Please..let m-me cum, please.” As much as you wanted him, you knew this was his favorite part. It brought him some kind of high, listening to you pleading for him, making sure you knew your pleasure was at his mercy. His free hand reached up, tugging down your dress just past your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh of them with his palm.

“Tell me what you want, dirty girl. Say it,” he whispered, and you could feel his renewed hardness pressing against your thigh while his relentless fingers continued their writhing inside of you.

“Your cock. I want your cock inside me now, please!”

You heard a deep groan, fingers falling away from your sex leaving you clenched around nothing. You heard him shifting off his pants before feeling his hands spreading your thighs again.

"C-condom…." you said, a quiet reminder.

“…Fuck,” he groaned, but complied. It was the one thing on which he’d never fought you. And luckily he had them spread all over the house, getting one from what sounded like a hall drawer and hurrying back to your open legs. Without ceremony, he thrusted into you, easily burying himself in your worn-out wetness.

“Tell me who your pussy belongs to,” Yoongi’s voice now raspy, fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thighs.

“You, it’s yours,” you moaned back, your now free breasts bouncing as he pounded into you, your body already wanting to give out at any moment.

“Good girl, my dirty princess. You belong to me.” Yoongi’s hands slid up to your hips, pulling you closer, your ankles resting on his shoulders.

“No one can fuck you like this huh,” he panted between deep thrusts. “No one can make you feel this good, huh?” You couldn’t remember when it had started, your head too clouded by his movements, but his claims of ownership were definitely a running theme tonight. And though you weren’t arguing with them, he had never spoken all night about it before. Some part of your consciousness held onto the idea, wondering if somehow he was…jealous. That maybe he was worried deep down about your potential husband to be and what it might mean for the two of you.

Your hips jerked when you felt his thumb slip over your sensitive nub, rubbing light circles against it. Accompanied by the deep, fulfilling stretch of him inside of you, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Cum for me, princess. Let me feel you come apart on my cock.”

You fell into your orgasm on his command, your hips lifting up as his hips continued, his thumb refusing to let up. You heard his curses between your own moans, squeezing him tighter than you could remember as the heat between your legs finally dispersed. His groans chased your whimpers as his hips stuttered, fingers now back on your hips, digging into the flesh as he came.

The room was quiet afterwards, save for the heavy breathing from you both. Yoongi slid out of you and shrugged your legs from his shoulders unceremoniously.

"One of these days you're going to let me in raw,” he growled, and you could hear him slipping off the condom as he padded out of the room.

“Unless you want a little Yoongi running around, I’d suggest you keep the condoms nearby,” you called after him. Sitting up from the table and feeling the mess you had made of yourself, you made a conscious decision to drop off this particular dress for dry cleaning yourself. A wall clock told you it was already after one and you wondered how you would get home now, since someone made the very smart decision to leave your car at his office. Not that your sex-focused brain had complained at the time.

“Why did we even leave your office, Yoongi? You could've just fucked me on your desk.” You slid off his kitchen table, and touched a hand to your now tender neck and shoulder. “Now you’ve got to drive me all the way back there.”

Your eyes went wide when he returned from the hall, stark naked and looking good enough to eat. He was swinging a pair of silver handcuffs off of one finger, the most shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“I'm not taking you anywhere. I'm nowhere near done with you tonight, princess.”

The sharp, chiming sound was almost piercing. It bled through the layers of his consciousness, dragging Hoseok from its depths where he was reminded again that hard liquor and beer were never a good combination. He let out an audible groan as the noise continued, vaguely aware that it was an important sound, but mostly irritated that he wasn’t still asleep.

He sat up at a crawl, temples already pounding, and opened sleep-heavy eyes. A well-appointed living room greeted him, beiges and whites and the occasional pink reflecting too much sunlight from a set of balcony doors for his leftover drunken stupor. Where the hell was he?

He heard a clinking sound and then footsteps coming toward him, squinting a glance in their direction. Jin came around the corner, only wearing a pair of sweatpants and gracing Hoseok with an unwanted view of the bare expanse of his muscular chest, holding a glass of clear liquid in his hand. He gave him a knowing, mischievous smile.

“The proverbial prince awakens at last,” he chuckled and Hoseok put his head in his hands, another audible groan seeming appropriate. “You really need to come out with me more, you’ve forgotten your limit,” Jin said before handing him the glass.

“Drink up, Hobi,” he encouraged, and Hoseok breathed a laugh at the old nickname. As he chugged the strangely fruity contents of the glass, Jin picked up a mobile phone from the coffee table in front of them. Hoseok’s phone.

“This thing has been going off since four this morning. You sure you’re not hiding any possessive girlfriends in your pocket?”

“If I was hiding any secret girlfriends,” Hoseok grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “I’d dump them as soon as they called me at four in the morning.” He traded Jin the empty glass for his phone.

That explained the obnoxious sound from before. Eight missed calls. Five from mom. Two from Jimin. One from you. His heart did a strange rise and fall at your name. Like it always did, he thought bitterly and lifted himself from Jin’s couch with a bit of effort. Still in his jeans and button-up shirt from last night, he felt stale. Jin’s hangover cure was already forcibly waking him up, but Hoseok wasn’t sure he wanted it. It was easier to drown in liquor and loud music while practically naked girls swarmed Jin and, to a lesser extent, him.

He could hear Jin in the kitchen again. Jin, his best friend since college and surrogate big brother. Although he was only just over a year older than Hoseok, he had some kind of natural wisdom that often got Hoseok out of hot water before he even knew he was in it. And since his father and grandfather were gone now, he had been leaning on their friendship more than was fair, but Jin had been there for him at every step. If he was a petty man, he might find himself jealous of Jin more often. But everyone had their secrets, even perfect big brothers, and Jin was no exception.

As the smells of whatever Jin was cooking started to fill the room, Hoseok headed for the balcony, already pressing the contact photo to dial his mother.

“Hoseok,” she answered after two rings, voice already admonishing. It wasn’t right, really, after what he had been put through yesterday. But if he would’ve already died for his mother before, he would die a hundred times over for her now that it was only the two of them. He didn't want to fight.

“I know, mom. I’m sorry,” he answered. “I’m at Jin’s, I’ll come home later.”

“Hoseok, you and Y/N just disappeared last night. We were able to play it off to the press as young love, but…” she trailed off, a hint of disappointment hanging on the last word.

Hoseok knew none of it was fair to him, but he felt guilty all the same. He really never liked to upset anyone, least of all his mother.

“I’m sorry, mom. I wasn’t thinking straight, it was a rough evening.”

There was a long pause in the conversation, and he started to pull away the phone to see if she had been upset enough to hang up on him.

“I’m sorry too, honey,” she sighed through the line. “Look, I’m sorry I put you through that. I did it for you, you know that right?”

Hoseok closed his eyes, trying to keep himself together. “Yeah.”

The phone was quiet for another minute, the words between them unspoken.

“I take it you’ve already worked out why we did this,” she said.

“I can assume, anyway. But I really wish you had sat us down and talked about it, given us a choice,” Hoseok said, decidedly not taking all the blame.

“Y/N is a bit of a loose cannon. We thought not giving her any wiggle room would make her decision easier.”

“Mom-”

“And I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her over the years, Hoseok,” she interrupted him. “I know how you feel about her.” As if everyone didn’t, except you. Maybe you. He didn’t know anymore.

“Mom-” But she pressed on.

“You might not see it, but she looks at you the same way. I really thought…I still think she’ll come around.” Hoseok’s chest tightened. His mother was trying to be soothing, but it just stung him instead. He wasn’t ready to face last night yet. To face complicated years of him and you.

“She’s seeing someone else,” he breathed out. The silence again.

“I know,” his mother said and he fought hard against the urge to throw his phone over the railing. “I mean, her mother knows. She says it’s just a rebellious fling, not a serious relationship.”

Hoseok would curse himself for it later, would feel guilty at letting something so fucked up bring him joy. But he let himself feel it anyway, a sick happiness that you weren’t deeply involved with someone else, that you hadn’t already given your heart to another man.

“I don’t think anything would make me happier than to call Y/N my daughter,” she continued, “especially if it meant your happiness. She’s practically family already.”

“Is there really no other way? I’ve sat at those board meetings, those old-” he bit his tongue from the curse threatening to fly out. “They will hardly listen to me, let alone try newer, fresher business tactics. Mom, I can save this company without some backwards fairy tale forced marriage.”

“It’s not about business tactics, honey. Our reputation is in the toilet. Marrying Y/N, having her family and her company’s backing is what will save us. Unless you know of any other pristine-historied female heirs that you’re already in love with, then this is it.”

Hoseok wasn't going to win her over this easily, he conceded. He didn't know how long his mother and your mother had been planning this, but he knew he would need a solid plan to sway either of them. And he didn't quite have that yet.

“I’ll be home later, mom,” he sighed. Hoseok hung up and leaned against the balcony railing. No one would want this. No matter how much he loved you, all forcing you to marry him would do is push you away. And he so desperately just wanted you closer.

“Get in here and eat something,” Jin called out from the kitchen, suddenly becoming his surrogate mother, and Hoseok laughed to himself and stepped inside. The smell had made its way to Hoseok even outside and his stomach grumbled in anticipation.

That took care of the five calls. Now just Jimin. And you.

He swiped through his phone on the way to the table and realized it wasn't a missed call from you, but a text message.

Y/N: I'm sorry about last night. I was angry, but it was shitty of me to take it out on you of all people. Let's meet up at the usual and figure out what the fuck we're going to do.

Hoseok smiled at his phone, impressed that you had messaged him so soon. He laughed to himself, memories of your past floating to mind. You had definitely grown up and so had he. But some things always stayed the same.

~~Flashback~~

Hoseok took another sip of the beer most of the mingling crowd at this party were definitely not legally allowed to drink, grimacing at the metallic bitterness cheap beer often had, but thankful for the numbing after-effects. This was only his second cup, but he was already buzzing at a comfortable pace. Though he wasn’t usually such a lightweight, so maybe it was his third cup? Now he wasn’t sure.

He actually enjoyed house parties and drinking like this as much as the next twenty-year-old, but that wasn’t why he had agreed to come out with his friends tonight. They had all wandered off already to find tail for the evening, but Hoseok had a more specific goal. Not that he would turn down tail from that goal.

“Still no luck?” a voice asked, pulling his scanning eyes from the crowded room to focus on the chubby-faced, black-haired boy in front of him. “I swear I saw her earlier,” the boy said and Hoseok’s eyes went back to scanning. Jimin was a true wingman as usual, charming the crowd and working the room while trying to find out something, anything about you.

“Has anyone said anything about her?” Hoseok prodded and Jimin gave him a sad smile.

“Some of her friends are definitely here, but they’re hinting that she…well maybe she came here looking for a guy,” Jimin admitted, lowering his voice on the last part. “But I can’t tell. They’re pretty drunk already. Honestly, everyone is already pretty smashed.”

Hoseok’s eyes went back to the crowd. Despite the showing of cheap alcohol, the house was huge and worthy of the currently sizable crowd of students from several different high schools nearby. He recognized quite a few faces, had talked a bit of shit here and there to pass the evening. But all he really wanted was to find you.

“Can't you just text her,” Jimin prompted.

Hoseok grimaced. “I don't want to look…I don't want her to think…”

Jimin nodded and laid an understanding hand on his shoulder. “Love is tough, man.”

Hoseok sighed to himself and nodded a thanks to Jimin before taking off through the crowd, weaving his way past drunken table games, people swaying to the music, and a few pairs that were sure to find their way to upstairs bedrooms before long. It wasn’t rare that the two of you were at the same party. Even now that he’d graduated and you were eighteen and about to do the same, it was typical to find each other any time someone’s parent decided they needed to get out of the country. No, this was normal. What wasn’t normal was the text messages you and he had been exchanging for the past couple of weeks.

Different from the normal memes, jokes, gossip, and occasional heart-to-heart, they had been - if Hoseok could trust his instincts - flirty. You had been flirting with him, barely so at first, but each day your words got more suggestive and each line had gotten him more excited. It wasn’t a secret to his closest friends that he was mad about you, but it was another for you to return any signals other than friendship. He hadn’t been prepared for it, so suddenly out of nowhere. And Hoseok had to know tonight, he had to hear from you what you had been trying to say to him. What he hoped you had been trying to say.

“Hey, Hoseok!” he heard and spun towards a group of girls huddled around yet another keg of the cheap swill. Jiyun, one of your classmates, was waving him over.

“Looking for anyone in particular?” she asked with a smirk and a few of the other girls giggled to each other. “You know, Soojin thinks you’re really cute,” she laughed and the girl he assumed was Soojin shot him a wink.

“Cut the shit, Jiyun. Where is Y/N, is she here?” Hoseok wasn’t in the mood for games, he just wanted to talk to you in person.

“Geez, you need to drink more if you’re going to be that grouchy. She came with us so she’s here, I just don’t know where.” Jiyun took another drink from her cup, eyes roaming over the crowded room. “Haven’t seen her in thirty minutes. I figured she had already found you and jumped your-” an elbow sent Jiyun’s drink flying, landing a few inches to Hoseok’s side. “Fuck, Soojin!”

Luckily, it missed spilling on his shirt, but even if it hadn't it wouldn’t have mattered. Hoseok was already ignoring them, turning back towards the room, heading towards the staircase near the rear. You were looking for him, his heart suddenly drowning out the sounds of the room. He pulled out his phone, happy now to have a decent excuse to text you.

Hoseok: Jiyun siad yu were lokoiing for mee. Whre ae you?

He blinked at the screen of his phone, not sure how he managed to misspell that many words at once. He took a long look at his cup before draining the rest and setting it on a side table, certain he didn’t remember drinking enough cups to be that drunk. Maybe it only tasted cheap, he thought.

Y/N: Com find me!!!1!

And clearly, you’d had a few cups yourself.

Hoseok: Where?? I eed a hintt

Hoseok blinked again, then headed back to the keg near Jiyun, pouring more of the now respectable liquid into a fresh cup. If being drunk was making him hallucinate that he might find you, then so be it. And if you were really responding, he would need the cup of courage to get him through telling you how he felt anyway. He took a long chug, then felt his phone vibrate again.

Y/N: Upstairs

Even as Jiyun slurred something else at him, he was off, up the stairs faster than he should’ve been able to manage, the alcohol now filtering his vision. Where? Where upstairs? Hoseok hurried down the massive hallway, lighting dimmed and making it difficult to see, but he was on a mission now that he knew you were waiting, playing an interesting game of hide and seek with him. All he wanted was to pull you into his arms and-

“Psst.” Hoseok froze at the sound and heard a follow-up giggle. Your giggle.

“Psst, Hoseokie,” you laughed and he traced the sound to a hall closet that he had just stumbled past.

“Y/N? Y/N, what the fuck?” he squinted at the closet door, slightly cracked, a dim light peeking through.

“Shhh, get in here,” you laughed, much too loud to actually be secretive and he saw you peek out of the closet door, your arm reaching for his hand and tugging him inside.

It was a pretty large walk-in closet really, sparsely filled with a few hanging coats and pairs of shoes scattered about, a dim light bulb above illuminating just enough that he could see your face. Your face that was at this moment very close to his own, a smirk resting on your lips. And he could tell from the glaze in your eyes that you had probably had just about as much of the questionable drink as he had.

“You found me!” you snickered, throwing your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. “Took you long enough, feels like I’ve been waiting here forever,” you slurred, whining into his chest.

“You’re drunk,” he breathed into your hair, wrapping his own arms around you. Why did you always smell like everything he had ever longed for? Hoseok wracked his slow-moving brain, his last cup catching up with him, trying desperately to remember what he wanted to ask you. Why had he been looking for you again? Maybe it was just to hug you?

“You are too, so what?” you giggled, leaning your head back and pulling down on his shirt, and before he had time to respond, your lips were on his, sloppily begging for his attention and Hoseok forgot his last name and how to pronounce yours, every pent up hormone, every late night thought of you blazing across his skin and sending sparks to his lips. His arms were around your waist, pulling you closer and you squealed in excitement at the movement.

Your lips were ambrosia, and Hoseok finally felt whole, tucked away with you in this closet as you fed him as gods must feed, gifting him soft moans curled in swelling lips and searching fingers. This is why he had been looking for you, he remembered. To hold you and kiss you and-

“Hoseok…” you breathed into his mouth and his spine all but melted, countless nights of wanting to hear you say his name that way crashing in on him, brushing away his thoughts, leaving him only to focus on you and the warmth of your skin.

“Y/N,” he panted back before taking up your lips again, hands slipping down your back, fingers pressing into the cheeks of your ass, calling more muted moans from your mouth. His body’s response was already pressing into your thigh, but he didn’t care. He was lost in you, all of you.

He daringly swiped his tongue across your lips and you parted them, meeting his tongue eagerly. A hand made its way to your hair, fingers sliding into it and pulling you closer, pressing you as close as he could.

You pressed a soft bite into his lower lip and it shook him from his concentration on your mouth, forcing him to pull away. “What, baby girl?” he purred, his voice deep with longing, rough with intoxication, his fingers already under your shirt, rubbing soft strokes into your hips.

“Hoseok, you’re so hard,” you breathed, focusing on his eyes as your fingers danced across his belt buckle, brushing against the skin just above. “Have you been thinking about this?”

“Every day,” he confessed, no longer able to filter his thoughts. If he hadn’t been so drunk from the alcohol, he was definitely drunk from you now. You kissed him again as your fingers undid his belt quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, your hands finding his member with ease.

“Unngh..” he groaned into your mouth at the sensation of your fingers on him. Somewhere in the back of his head he thought something might be wrong. Maybe this really isn’t why he came here. Was it? It was so hard to focus now that your hands were stroking his length back and forth, the blood flow redirected to much more important places.

You pulled away and he could only watch as your tongue slid across your lips before you dropped to your knees, pushing down his jeans and boxer-briefs, then wrapping your fingers around him again, making long, slow strokes across his length. “God, Hoseok, I’ve been dreaming about this dick for weeks,” you moaned.

He couldn’t breathe, trying to remember your texts. Your hints had been subtle enough that he wasn’t sure, but definitely there. That was it. That’s why he had been looking-

All thoughts fell away from Hoseok as your lips slid across the head of his cock, the wet heat of your mouth sending his heart into his throat. He moaned at the contact, voice dark and heavy, hands flying to your head.

“Fuck, Y/N…fuck…” Everything was moving so fast, his head was spinning. Or maybe that was what your lips did to him, your tongue caressing his length in ways he had thought it never would.

‘Does it feel good, Hoseok?” You replaced your lips again with your hands, stroking him as you looked up at his face. “Do you want me to keep going, hm?” And the sight of you there, on your knees in front of him doing what you were doing convinced him that he had to be dreaming.

“Fuck yes, don’t stop,” he pleaded, and you smiled and took him in again, sliding your lips down to the base of his length and Hoseok’s vision blurred as he felt the pressure, your gentle suckling of his manhood. He reached out an arm blindly in his ecstasy, accidentally knocking a coat from a hanger, pressing his palm into the wall of the closet.

And you didn’t let up, tongue exploring every crevice, the bobbing of your head punctuated by his most likely too loud moaning. But he didn’t care. Nothing else could matter in this moment with your mouth working on him so diligently, racing him towards losing his mind.

A throaty growl ripped through his chest, eyes rolling back, and he was spent, hips jerking as he spilled into your mouth, whimpers as you sucked him dry, your tongue still caressing his increasingly sensitive head until he was nudging you away, unable to take the contact anymore.

“Y/N…” he breathed softly and you were on your feet again, licking your lips and pulling on his t-shirt again.

“Don’t tell me you’re done already,” you said in a quiet voice, not quite sounding as drunk as before. He studied your eyes, wondering if you had been just as in need of liquid courage too. His head was very slowly clearing and memories were coming back to him, all he had wanted to say to you.

“Y/N, I-…” You cut off his words with another kiss and Hoseok conceded that talking could wait. His hands slipped under your shirt, searching for more, more of this, all of this. He leaned away to lift the fabric up over your head and went back to kissing you, struggling with the clasps of your bra. You brushed his hands away, unfastening it for him and he slid it from your arms, face slipping from yours to your breasts.

“Ahh, Hoseok, yes, yes….” you keened as his tongue lapped at your nipples, the fingers of one hand squeezing alongside his mouth, as the other rested on your thigh. He felt you tense, squeezing your thighs together as your moaning mounted.

“Hoseok,” you purred, and he definitely felt his dick twitching back to life whenever the word passed your lips, when you sounded so desperate and needy like this. “Your fingers, I want your…”

Hoseok pulled his attention from your breasts, pressing a hungry kiss to your lips as he slid a hand into your shorts, immediately met by your wetness. You moaned as his finger met your lower lips, leaning your head back as he slid a finger across your clit.

It was intoxicating, watching you like this, after imagining it so many times, more times than he wanted to admit. His fingers slid further and he slipped one inside easily, then another and watched your maddening reactions, your body as it rolled into his hand in response.

“Y/N…is this alright? God, you feel so tight.” Hoseok’s fingers swirled inside your warm depths, and he savored every desperate moan you gave him, wanting to give you everything, anything you wanted if you kept moaning his name that way.

His fingers curled into you and you moaned against him. You were so wet, horribly wet, and he was already hard again, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock surrounded by your wetness.

“I want you, now, baby,” you whined and he groaned, the need for you overriding all else. Hoseok roughly turned your body around and pushed you forward into the wall of the closet, yet another coat falling to the floor as he caressed your ass through your shorts, fingers squeezing your inner thighs. He tugged them down over your ass, dragging your panties along with them, pausing for a moment to look at your sticky wetness and fighting the urge to plunge his face between your legs instead.

“Please, Hoseok,” you whined, lifting your ass, and the sound of your voice was hypnotic, bringing him back to his true goal. He straightened up and placed his hands on your hips, hand around his erection as he guided himself towards you.

The closet door swung open and Hoseok froze. Two girls he had never seen before looked on in surprise, a perfect view of his dick poised over your ass. One of the girls laughed a nervous giggle and the other had the sense to close the door. He could hear more giggling and then retreating footsteps down the hall. And Hoseok couldn’t be sure, but it looked like they had similar plans as the two of you as one of them had definitely been missing a shirt.

“Shit!” you said standing up and nudging him back, ass pressing against his hardon. “Did they see me? Did they see my face?”

“I…I don’t think so,” he stumbled, still a little in shock, but you were already pulling your shorts back up.

“Let’s get out of here, ok?” you said and Hoseok reacted slowly, still lost in the scent of sweat and sticky liquids that filled the closet. You turned to look at him and leaned up, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Come on, we gotta go. The party is probably gonna get busted soon and I think neither of us wants to get caught drinking here,” you said, and he nodded, tugging up his jeans and repositioning his still hard member, a new appreciation for the word cockblock already forming in his mind.

When you both were finally dressed and made it back downstairs, the crowd had thinned out a bit, some people already passed out in various corners of the room. Hoseok spotted a certain black-haired, chubby-cheeked boy slumped near one of the kegs.

“Jimin!”

“Ahh,” Jimin looked up the pair of you with sleepy eyes and smiled. “You found her,” he said before his eyes closed again. “I’m pretty sure they spiked the kegs with something,” he slurred, as his head lolled to the side. Hoseok laughed and hoisted him up. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” The three of you headed out the front door, Jimin’s arm slung across Hoseok’s shoulder as he supported his friend to the sidewalk. Countless cars were lining the street, but Hoseok was pretty sure he’d better call a cab or start walking.

You looked at him questioningly, then down and he followed your gaze, blinking as he realized he was holding your hand. But he didn’t let go and you only smiled. What was tonight, he wondered? Had he been reading your signals right after all, or were you nothing but hormones and liquor?

“I’ll call a cab,” he offered, but you shook your head. “I live close enough to walk. But Jimin lives across town, doesn’t he? Take care of him, I’ll be fine.” Hoseok studied your face, not sure how to put into words whatever it was he was feeling right now. He wasn’t even sure how he felt, everything had been such a blur.

“I’ll call you,” you smiled, and after all you had done that night, all you had been about to do, he felt a squeezing in his chest as he stared at you, the same bull-headed, kind-to-a-fault girl he had fallen in love with the day you ripped your dress to get him a ripe persimmon. The same girl he had fallen in love with over and over again throughout the years. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on your forehead. And wordlessly, you squeezed his hand before heading off in the direction of your house.

As he watched you walk away, Hoseok couldn’t quiet his heart. He couldn’t wait for your call, couldn’t wait to continue what you’d started, couldn’t wait to hold you and call you his and finally tell you those three little words.

Until he heard nothing. He waited for two weeks after that party, and there was nothing, no texts, no calls, no messages through friends. His pride was in pieces.

Especially when he showed up at your school for some answers and found you standing near the entrance with another guy, looking a little too comfortable. Hoseok hadn't considered himself the jealous type, but it was the angriest he had ever been. He looked past you, at your friends talking close by.

And in his blind rage Hoseok made a decision he didn’t know how badly he would regret later. He decided maybe Soojin was really pretty after all.

“It’s not fair for someone to look that good after spending the night getting smashed,” you called to a dark-haired figure that you very much preferred in casual clothing. Complementing the already perfect proportions of his body, he wore a black t-shirt, ripped, fitted jeans that hugged his ass just right, and a black beanie that made his ears curve down in that way that had your heart doing flips already. Hoseok flashed you a wide smile and you sighed to yourself, thinking for just a moment that it wouldn’t be bad at all to wake up next to that face every morning for the rest of your life.

“How did you know I went out?” he questioned, and dipped his head slightly, confirming the guilt.

“Word gets around,” you answered. When you finally reached him, he slid an arm around your waist and pulled you into a hug, smelling like citrus and woods and taunting your senses in every way. “Actually, a friend who heard the news last night considered herself warning me that you were out with Jin getting plastered. Maybe not the best press after an engagement party,” you smiled up at him, smug that you at least kept your escapades private. Well, for the most part.

The park was strangely quiet for mid-morning on a Sunday, only a few runners and bikers sprinkled about the trail. Hoseok turned with his arm still around you and began guiding you down the path, between picturesque patches of trees and wildflowers. You had both met up at this park so many times, wandered this trail at all hours of the day and night, and listened to each other’s problems. You sort of thought of it as belonging to you both, the trees holding onto your secrets.

You leaned into him, leaned into the comfort of being with him as you walked. To any stranger, you probably looked like any other happy couple. But you had always just been family friends. Messy, complicated, and over every boundary, but only ever friends.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you apologized again. You really had been, after waking up and fully understanding what an ass you’d been to him, as if any of it was his fault.

“It’s alright, Y/N, really. If I wasn’t used to your temper, I’d have never made it as your friend.”

You could never figure out why hearing the word out loud hurt so much. You and Yoongi weren’t in a relationship, true, but what you had still made you happy. But with Hoseok, everything was always confusing. How could you want to be more and less with someone at the same time?

“To be honest, I was pretty angry too. I understand what our parents are doing, but…” he trailed off.

“My mom has been lighting up my phone all morning. Last night I think she was angry, but at this point I’m sure she thinks she can just talk me down,” you laughed. Since you hadn’t bothered going home, instead borrowing an oversized t-shirt and drawstring shorts from Yoongi, and luckily finding a pair of flip flops you’d left at his house, you hadn’t had to face your mother yet. And you were tempted to leave it that way for a few days.

“I left just after you did,” Hoseok said, “but I gather the press showed up at some point. My mom was irritated, so I imagine your mother was more than livid that neither of us had stuck around.”

You kept on quietly, teeth already grazing your lip as you both wandered down the trail.

“So…do we have any kind of plan, Hoseok? Are we really just going to go through with it? Of course I want to help with your company, but this is…” You fretted at the thought, not comfortable with your life being planned out that way.

“You don’t have to sound so miserable about it,” he laughed. His voice was dark and you looked up at his face, reaching up to brush his fringe from his eyes.

“Hoseok, I’m not saying it to hurt your feelings. I…I’m not totally…” And the next words were out before you could fully process your thoughts. “I could marry you.” Fuck. You had not meant to say that.

Hoseok stopped walking, peering down at you curiously as if he was trying to read your mind. “…But?”

“This isn’t about you and me. Our world is…this is about…” your brain felt fried. You hadn’t expected this conversation to actually lean towards entertaining this idea. Hoseok wasn’t seriously considering marrying you, was he? You didn’t know if you were angry that he was considering it to save his company, or touched that he liked you enough to consider spending the rest of his life with you.

He motioned towards a bench, guiding you to it and you sat down next to him, searching his face for a clue of what he was thinking.

“Y/N, I think we should both be able to marry who we love.” You nodded in agreement and he continued. “Forget about all the business stuff and the press and our parents. We’ve been friends our whole lives. Could we love each other?” He wouldn’t meet your eyes as he spoke the last part and you swallowed hard. “I thought about it all morning. Of course, about what it would do for Jung Corp, I have to consider my family’s business. But more about us.” Hoseok finally met your eyes, but your focus had shifted to his ears, which were curiously tinged a deep red.

“I’m not sure what you’re saying, Hoseok. Are you asking me to consider marrying you?”

“I’m saying that we have four months to figure this out. Let's put on a good show for our parents while we put our heads together to figure out what we want to do. I’m saying we’ve been tangled in each other’s lives long enough, maybe we owe it to ourselves to at least find out if…”

“If…?” you swallowed again.

“I-If something could work out. Between us.”

Your hands were freezing, throat now dry and tight. What was he saying? Why was he saying it now, now that you had finally given up on him? It was almost like a cruel joke. You looked away from him. Or had mostly given up on him, you thought.

“If you’re totally against it, we’ll still keep our parents happy and off our backs until we find another way,” he tried to rationalize. “This is weird for me too, but my gut says this is the right way to do it.” His hand reached for your own, drawing your attention back to his face. His stupid handsome face, with that stupid handsome smile, and stupid chestnut-brown eyes that you had wanted to get lost in for a huge portion of your life.

“Ok,” you breathed.

He blinked. Then again. Then squeezed your hand and you would swear his smile broadened. “Really? You really want to?”

You nodded. “You’re right, Hoseok. We do owe it to ourselves.” You shoved your shoulder against his. “Why are you always right? It’s so irritating.”

He laughed and stood from the bench, pulling you up with him. “Why don’t we go home? The quicker we can get our parents off our asses, the easier it’ll be to work together. And maybe tomorrow I can…take you on a proper date. We can just take it one step at a time, Y/N.”

Not giving you a chance to respond, he pulled you back against his body, wrapping an arm around your waist just like before, but something was different now. He was warmer, somehow, more comfortable in a way you couldn’t describe. You shook your head, trying to shake off the feelings you had stamped down ages ago. How could it be that easy for him to get you upside down again?

He spoke again as you headed back to the park’s entrance. “Are…are you seeing someone? Last night you mentioned…” You stiffened, Yoongi pushed far from your mind in the midst of everything else. Yoongi, whose sharp bites you could still feel on your neck from less than twelve hours ago.

“Um,” you stuttered. “K-kind of. I mean we’re not like a couple, but…” you floundered. Normally, you weren't embarrassed to talk about your sex life, sometimes you were even a little proud. But with Hoseok, especially now, it felt a little wrong.

“We’re just fuckbuddies,” you blurted out. Hoseok nodded.

“I know I don't have the right to ask for any kind of monogamy, but…”

“You're right, you don't,” you said irritably and it was his turn to tense. It was happening too fast, these decisions that felt life-changing in an instant. And if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn’t fuck someone for six months and not have any kind of feelings. However steeped in lust they were, some part of you cared about Yoongi. And some part of him cared about you. Maybe, you thought.

“Hoseokie,” you invoked the nickname that always got him to soften towards you. “Let’s just go on this first date. If we decide we don’t hate the idea of having a life together after that, I’ll…I’ll cut things off with him.”

Hoseok nodded to himself, but you could still tell he was hesitant.

“One step at a time, you said. Four months, you said,” you prodded him and he smiled and nodded, hugging you closer to his side.

“I did,” he agreed. “Ok. One step at a time.”

Yoongi turned off the engine and checked his Rolex. It was just after one-thirty in the morning and he was a little surprised that he hadn't heard from you by now. Although, after last night you might have been busy playing pretend with your family and soon-to-be husband. He smirked to himself as he climbed out of his car. Or you might have still been too sore thanks to him.

He checked his phone one last time before keying in the code and pulling open Sapphire’s rear entrance, offering a tight-eyed glance to the security guard on duty as he headed inside. Slow reaction time, he noted for Namjoon.

Of course, he didn't really care that you hadn't yet sent him a needy text. No, no, Min Yoongi would never invest enough feelings into a woman to care, certainly not a woman who wasn't already a part of his family, and most certainly not an entitled, spoiled brat like you. No matter how much your smell drove him crazy, no matter how much he enjoyed seeing you smile when he spoiled you, and no matter how he had gotten used to holding you most nights as he fell asleep. He didn't care about you in the slightest. Just your body.

A few dancers in their birthday suits hurried past him as he made his way through the corridor, throwing him cautious smiles on their way to the dressing room. He was pretty sure he had fucked the one on the left at some point, but it had been too long to tell. That fact irritated him and he ran a hand over his face. He didn't like forgetting people’s faces.

It had been six months ago that he met you, and at least four months since he’d slept with anyone else besides you. Not because he valued some type of monogamy, shit no. He just hadn't had a taste for anyone else, that was all. You took care of his needs and wants like no one else had, and he’d keep you around for as long as you did.

Up a set of stairs and past the VIP room he ran into another, much more alert guard, this one already eyeing him as he came around the corner.

“Boss,” the man nodded in respect and Yoongi nodded back and headed inside the club’s main office. Namjoon turned from the window overlooking the packed club as he walked in, a wide grin overtaking his face.

“Ah, look who’s rolling in here smelling like rich pussy,” Namjoon laughed.

“Shut the fuck up,” Yoongi returned a chuckle, crossing his arms.

“Well that's where you've been isn't it? My girls aren't good enough anymore. You need the high class shit now.”

Yoongi rubbed his face again and looked around the office. It looked spotless, most certainly recently cleaned, the floors recently waxed. If he could trust anyone to take care of things here, it was Namjoon.

“Let's talk business. You called me here for a decision, what am I deciding?”

“Chun, bring him in,” Namjoon called out and, moments later, through the office’s side door that led to the cellar, one of the guards entered, dragging with him someone that had already clearly been beaten within an inch of his life. The man wore only his underwear, bruises blooming up and down his body, dried bits of blood already caked to his torso. His head was already covered with one of Namjoon’s favorite black bags and Yoongi grimaced. He hated the damn things, preferring to at least see a man’s eyes when he made decisions about his life.

A younger man with thick, brown hair that looked vaguely familiar to Yoongi walked out after the pair, his mouth set in a hard line. He was dressed in a bartender’s uniform and Yoongi recognized the pensive look on his face. A new recruit that Namjoon was trying to season. He liked to bring them to his little power shows. Namjoon, ever the peacock.

Namjoon licked his lips and knelt next to the man. “Mr. Heung here was caught pimping out two of my girls and keeping all the profits for himself.”

Heung was already shaking his head, facing the wrong direction since he was still unable to see. “N-no, boss, no, you you you got it wrong, I-” Namjoon reared back and landed a punch across his jaw. Yoongi could hear the blood splatter inside the bag before it dribbled down and out onto his neck.

“The girls already confessed to me, Heung. Your johns are already dead. And unless you cough up the profit, you’re going to die too.”

Yoongi sighed in irritation. “This is what you brought me here for? Kill him and raid his house and accounts. I’ve got shit to do. You can make these kind of decisions yourself,” Yoongi said, uncrossing his arms impatiently. “Call me when we’ve got a cop snooping around or stock comes up short.”

Namjoon studied him for a moment, then put his attention back onto his captive. Yoongi knew what his first-in-command wanted, for him to get excited about the idea of putting down a dog, but Yoongi had long since lost his bloodlust. He left those things to Kim and the others now, much preferring to run the business side of things. Well, aside from special exceptions.

Namjoon reached into the jacket of his suit, pulling out a pistol and a suppressor after, expertly attaching the pieces. But instead of bringing it to Heung’s head as Yoongi expected, he reached out the weapon towards the wide-eyed, brown-haired man from earlier.

“Kill him, Tae.”

Yoongi watched Taehyung’s eyes grow wider still, face paling at the request.

“That’s an order. Kill him.” Namjoon’s eyes were glowing as he shook the gun handle towards him. Heung’s whimpers were the only background noise as the men exchanged tense looks.

“I…I can’t..I..” Taehyung stumbled across the words, looking like he was going to start convulsing soon.

Namjoon nodded at Chun, who grabbed Taehyung and dragged him forward to stand behind Heung’s shivering body. And though Taehyung didn’t struggle, Yoongi wasn’t sure this would end very well. He had seen enough newbies to know that Taehyung belonged downstairs, serving drinks and probably gathering intel, not murdering people in the back office.

But Namjoon had never liked order or predictability. He liked to test the limits of his recruits, which sometimes ended well and sometimes not so much.

Namjoon shoved the gun into Taehyung’s hands, guiding it to the back of the man’s head. “Go on, Tae. Prove your loyalty to our family. Shoot. Him.”

Taehyung’s hands were shaking violently, tears collected in his eyes. When he didn’t make a move Namjoon sighed and shoved him aside before aiming and putting a quiet bullet right through the back of Mr. Heung’s head.

The man’s body stopped shaking immediately, toppling over instead, blood from the deadly wound now oozing from the holes in the back and front of the bag.

“Chun, go get me a clean up crew.”

Taehyung had backed himself up into the corner and was now retching onto the floor as the blood pooled around Heung’s body. Yoongi looked down at it and then down at his shirt, noticing that some of the blood had splattered onto him, dribbles on his forearm and clothes.

“God damn it, Kim.”

Namjoon noticed the stains and barked a laugh before turning quickly and aiming his firearm at Taehyung.

“I don't appreciate it when my men don't follow orders, Tae. I should end your miserable life right here if you’re going to be useless.”

“Namjoon, settle down,” Yoongi interrupted. “The kid is obviously not meant to be one of your grunts. Let him go back to mixing margaritas and watching the floor.”

Taehyung swiped a forearm across his mouth, unable to look in the direction of the body. Namjoon shrugged and pulled apart his gun, setting it on his desk. “Ahh, you're no fun anymore, Yoongi. This stuff used to get your blood pumping. I think all that rich pussy has made you soft.”

“You're remembering it wrong. You always stick to the bloody things, Kim. I always stick to making us filthy rich.” He waved a beckoning hand to Taehyung, calling him over. Yoongi finally remembered where he had seen that face before, or at least a similar, older version.

“You think about what you've seen here today, kid. This is what happens if you're not loyal to us. But I don't think you'll end up like this. You'll be good to the family, won't you?”

Taehyung nodded fervently and Yoongi affectionately ruffled his hair. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of bills, peeling off a few and pressing them into Taehyung’s hands.

“Get back to work,” Yoongi ordered calmly and Taehyung shot a nervous glance at Namjoon before he hurried out of the room.

“You're going soft, Yoongi, I’m telling you.”

“We killed his father, Namjoon, his only blood relative. If you want his loyalty you should probably be more gentle with him and use him where he’ll be the most help. With that face, he could probably sweet talk the gun off a cop.”

Namjoon waved a dismissive hand at him and went back to his one-way window, looking over the club floor.

“I'm out of here,” Yoongi said, heading for the door. “Call me when you've got something interesting. Don't forget, we have a shipment coming Tuesday and I expect you and your bloodthirsty crew ready for it.”

It wasn't until he was already home, stepping out of the shower and free of blood splatter that your face finally lit up his phone.

“It’s late, princess,” he answered. He was still stood in the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and now he thought he might just stay undressed.

“I know, but I couldn't stop thinking about you,” your needy voice came across the line.

“Where are you? I'll come pick you up,” Yoongi offered, wondering how well he could drive in a towel.

“I'm already on my way to your place.”

“Hm,” he grunted, studying his face in the mirror. “What are you wearing?”

“Ahh…you'll see when I get there.”

“Give me a hint, princess. I want to know what I'll be ripping off in a few minutes and how expensive it’ll be to replace it.” All he heard was your giggling before you hung up, pulling an irritated growl from his lips. You were already begging for punishment and he hadn’t even seen you yet.

The warm feeling in his chest gave Yoongi pause. What was it about you that got him so excited, that really did get his blood pumping? He couldn't place the feeling, but he knew he didn't want it to end. Meticulous as always, he made a note to himself in his phone to find out who your husband to be was. If he was a pliable man, Yoongi might be able to bring him into the fold and find a use for his wealth and connections.

And just in case he wasn't, Yoongi added him to his very short list of people to be dealt with. There was actually only one other name on that list right now, but Yoongi wasn’t making it a priority, since he was only the clueless son of the son of a bitch that had wiped out half his family less than a year ago. He might even let the poor bastard live after he was finished destroying his company. Yoongi opened the note on his phone.

To Be Dealt With:

— Jung Hoseok

— Y/N’s fiance (if uncooperative)

His phone chimed again just as he finished typing, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw your name.

“So why on earth would a man like you need to drink himself into a lonely stupor?” you asked, genuinely curious as to what he was doing here all on his own. You sat forward in your chair, leaning your head against your hand.

“Alright, maybe I was exaggerating. Maybe I just have an appreciation for a good bar with good brandy," Seokjin backpedaled, half-smile growing just enough to be adorable.

“Oh no," you protested. "You just watched me get dumped in public and offered to care for me with a good drinking session. We’re now officially bonding and you're gonna spill the truth.”

Both your new drinks arrived then and Seokjin took a deep swig before answering. You downed half of your own drink alongside him, feeling like it was more than needed at this point.

“I haven't dated in a while. Got a little burned from my last relationship and learned to appreciate a good drink alone,” he said.

“I don't mean this to sound like I'm coming on to you," you said, throwing caution and pretense to the wind. "But you’re goddamn good looking, boss. I can't imagine you having trouble finding the next person in line to date you. What the hell happened?” You hoped it wasn't a dangerous gamble to speak to your relatively new boss so casually. But Seokjin seemed like the kind of man that would appreciate your blunt honesty. You hoped you were reading him right.

“Guess my face wasn't enough," he said after another drink, looking almost incredulous. "Can you believe that?” You snickered at the expression.

“To be honest, she was pretty controlling.” His eyes softened with his words, falling down to the drink in front of him. “But then again, I let her be. It was a two-way failure, I'll admit that.”

"It usually is. Relationships aren't my strong point, but I'll admit it takes both sides," you said, polishing off your drink. The waiter was already bringing you both another and you settled back into your seat, tucking one leg beneath you comfortably.

“She wanted to bring someone else into the relationship, with or without me," he said. "I was wholly against the idea, but she said she wanted to experiment before settling down with me. Unfortunately, the ‘without’ part happened outside of my choice.”

You nodded understandingly. It was one thing for a couple to mutually agree to have someone else in bed. But blatant cheating was never excusable. You bit your lip, painfully thinking over your own past experiences. You'd had it happen to you as recently as Sehun.

“I wasn’t even really angry to find out she was cheating," he said. "I wasn’t treating her right."

“You?" you asked, a little surprised at the admission. "Your reputation is spotless, Seokjin.”

“There’s more to love than a good reputation. At least, that was my takeaway.”

You traced your finger around the rim of your once again near empty glass. “Did you love her?”

“Such a simple question, you’d think it’d be easy to answer.” He took a pause, holding your eyes and you could feel some kind of connection forming in the words floating between you. Two people that had been hurt too many times by others were sitting at this table tonight. “Did you love that guy that walked away from you tonight?”

“Point taken,” you said with a nod.

“I cared for her, but whether it was really love, I couldn’t say. To this day I can’t really say I know what love feels like. I just know I decided she wasn't what I wanted.”

“I know that feeling,” you said quietly, twisting a napkin between your fingers. Sehun definitely wasn't what you wanted or needed, he’d made that more than clear tonight. “So, now what are you looking for? Lonely drinks at nice bars can't be the end.”

His smile finally spread across the rest of his plump lips and the visual of seeing him grinning at you this widely was slowly warming your heart. “See, this is why I hired you. Sharp mind, inquisitive, empathetic…”

You hadn't even noticed the new set of drinks, or when you had finished your last one. You just knew you didn't want this conversation to end. Getting to know Seokjin at this personal level just felt good, as if a rare friendship was beginning. And at the very least, he was helping you not to feel as lonely as you could've after tonight.

“I want what everyone wants," he continued. "Someone who’ll be as happy with me as I am with them." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "And an occasional blowjob never hurt.”

Your eyes widened and Seokjin sat up a little at his own words. You could see the panic flash across his face, worry that he’d suddenly crossed a line. But it was the opposite for you, the honesty from your boss so refreshing. You fell into giggles and his laughter followed suit. You lifted your almost empty glass in toast.

“To happiness and blowjobs,” you said.

He snorted and clinked his glass against yours, signaling to a waiter that it was time for another refill.

You lost track of the drinks while your conversation drifted beyond relationships, to work and family, to life and terrible, terrible humor.

In between Seokjin making the lamest joke about a cat and a rocket you think you’d ever heard and your story about getting locked outside your college dorm in only your underwear, you lost the evening. Your chairs had moved closer and the din of the bar around you had faded away. You found yourself drawn to Seokjin’s pink cheeks and sparkling eyes. His hand had settled on yours after he was done flailing about with some wild story, a dream about running from zombies with his friends.

At some point he had ordered dessert, confessing to a sweet tooth and offering to share with you to help soak up some of the liquor. And as you were much too out of it to decline, you gladly accepted the bite of chocolate drizzled cake when he held up the fork to your lips.

You ate another bite or two with him and he mumbled something, apparently pondering over the recipe.

“You bake?” you asked, a little surprised at his interest.

“Oh, yes. If I wasn't in finance, I'd most certainly own a bakery. Or maybe a restaurant. Sadly, I barely have time to be in my own kitchen.”

"Not a secondary career choice I would've guessed for you," you slurred, then opened your mouth for another bite. He laughed and tipped another forkful past your lips.

“What about you?” he asked. "I'm sure it's irresistible working for me, but if not accounting, then what?"

“Oh, I'd definitely be stripping.” The words fell out of your mouth and it took a few moments for you to register the secret you'd spilled. Seokjin had caught on, both eyebrows raising in surprise. He took a suggestive look, leaning a little to the side to give you a once over. You suddenly realized how close you'd moved to one another, could feel the heat off his body as he leaned in.

"Now -that- I could see," he smirked, then leaned back in feigned innocence, taking another bite.

You moved towards him, reaching up a thumb and wiping a stray bit of chocolate sauce from the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, you slipped it between your lips, sucking off the sweet topping and letting go of your thumb with a soft pop. Seokjin's eyes held yours the entire time.

Neither of your memories were clear on who made the first move. You only knew that the taste of him had been everything you wanted in that moment, sweet and deep, like warm, fresh brownies and baked fruit. He kissed you with a fervent hunger that you returned just as strongly, fingers threading through his hair in an attempt to bring him as close to you as possible. You wanted him, all of him in that moment.

At some point you'd made it into his lap, until a bartender came by and suggested you both take your party home. Seokjin threw a wad of cash onto the table and soon you were outside, climbing into a taxi and mumbling out your address. But it was his lips that held your attention for most of the ride. You hadn't kissed someone so passionately in what felt like forever. Like teenagers beneath the bleachers, you sloppily made out in the backseat of this poor driver's car.

And then you were in the hallway of your apartment, his hands digging into the flesh of your thighs, squeezing your rear beneath your dress. You pawed at your door, trying to remember the code between delicious drags on his lips.

But suddenly Seokjin was pulling away from you, denying you the blazing warmth that you so craved. He was gently stroking your face instead, his alcohol-reddened cheeks and swollen lips now much too far away from you as he whispered words you didn't care to hear and ignored your needy tugs on his shirt.

Y/N | Present Day

Seokjin’s hands were on your hips rubbing circles into the fabric of your skirt with his thumbs as you leaned back against his desk.

“I think I’d sobered up a little by the time we got to your door. I told you I should go, that we should forget all of it. I remember trying so hard to think in my right mind, to ignore just how tempting you looked staring up at me like a starving gazelle. But you-”

Seokjin let go a throaty groan of frustration, pressing his head forward, forehead resting against your stomach.

“You whined my name. You said please, begged me while you pulled me inside your place, please, please, please . And I needed to hear that so bad," he said, followed by a deep swallow. "I’ve never wanted to get someone out of their slutty little dress so fast.”

You put a hand to your lips in surprise. Had you really been so riled up? It wasn't uncommon for you, a playful amount of pleading added to the satisfaction. But to your own boss? How far gone must you have been to think it was alright? You couldn't have been thinking at all.

“It was so stupid of me really. You had just ended your relationship and here I was taking advantage of you, forgetting that as your boss I should've been protecting you instead of making out with you in public where we could’ve easily been spotted. Then going to your place…” he trailed off, and you could hear the guilt hanging onto his words.

“I…I really thought I had just dreamed all that,” you said quietly, still in disbelief that your fantasies of that night had been more real than you knew.

“I shouldn't have let it happen," he continued. "I should've taken you home after one drink. But I couldn't resist staying there with you. You got me to open up and I just felt so comfortable getting to know you. Plus, you're really cute when you smile. It’s hard to resist kissing those lips when you’re giggling inches away from me.”

“But I still don’t understand," you said. "I woke up alone, in my clothes…” You felt Seokjin's head nodding against you, hands pausing on your waist.

“I made it to your bed. I had that little dress up over your hips.” A pause. “But you called me ‘Boss’ and I guess I had a long enough moment of clarity to come to my senses. I realized it was so wrong, that you weren't all there and I needed to get out of there before we both made a terrible mistake. Looks like I made the right decision since you weren’t able to remember any of it. I tucked you in bed and I left.”

“I expected some reaction the next day. But you were just warmer, sweeter towards me. I knew you couldn’t have remembered much beyond our conversation. You didn’t ask what happened so I didn’t say. I felt terrible that I’d let it go so far and you didn’t even know.”

His thumbs were back to rubbing circles against your hips, though whether it was to soothe you or him more you couldn't say.

“So I just focused on being professional. I pushed that night out of my mind and concentrated on nurturing our work relationship. And that worked really well…until I opened my door to you in that maid outfit.”

He let out a deep sigh and you knew this must have been a confession he'd wanted to make for a while.

“I told you last night that I wanted you to think about whether you really wanted to do this with me. But I needed to think too, Y/N. I don't want to jeopardize either of our jobs, and more importantly, I don't want to jeopardize our relationship. No matter the sexual attraction, I'm still your boss. I still respect you and your work. And I like you, kid.”

You exhaled a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding in the midst of your absorption and Seokjin echoed the sentiment. He had been holding onto these thoughts that you couldn't remember for so long and you'd had no clue this whole time. You wanted to go back, to review every joke, every wink, every sidelong glance he'd given you, knowing now that it had an entirely different meaning.

You slid your fingers through the strands of his thick, dark hair, hoping the touch would ease his guilt. Seokjin tilted his head in response, leaning into your hand.

“I like you too,” you said in a whisper. “And I'm sure I want this with you.”

He lifted his head to meet your eyes with a guilt-ridden gaze, hands still settled on your waist. Here he was, vulnerable and raw, giving you the choice to continue or not. He was asking for permission to control you, but giving you every opportunity to turn him down, to let you know that he cared more about your comfort, more about preserving the relationship between you than anything else.

“Seokjin, I trust you. As a boss. As a friend. I trust giving you control over me because I know you'll treat me with dignity. You’ve already proven it. Will you trust me? Will you accept that I have no regrets about exploring things between us?”

The hesitation was back in his eyes, the same look he had given while you’d sat perched in his lap the night before. He wanted this, that much was clear. But some part of him was still unsure, still disbelieving that you were as interested as you’d said.

You leaned forward, forcing him to sit back into his chair. You pressed a soft kiss onto his lips. “Please.” Another, this time for a few moments longer. “Please, sir.” You wet your lips, eyes meeting his. “ Please ,” you breathed then leaned in for another kiss.

His lips met yours this time as he sat forward, hands again on your hips. You could've drowned there in the depths of his kiss, his pressure eager, yet gentle. And when he pulled away and you opened your eyes, you saw his flutter open only a second later, a smirk appearing at the corners of his mouth.

“Clever woman,” he growled beneath his breath. “Cruel, clever thing.” His eyes were narrowed, lids growing heavy with want.

“If it worked once,” you said with a satisfied smile.

“I like a pet who likes to beg.”

You chuckled softly. “Oh, I'm a pet now? I thought I was an angel.”

“From where I'm sitting, you’re whatever I say you are.”

He tilted his chair forward, knocking you off your balance and making it easy for him to spin your body to face his desk instead. His hands were on your thighs instantly, keeping you steady.

Seokjin's fingertips roamed up the sensitive skin at the back of your legs, sliding up your thighs and pressing up your skirt until it was out of his way, pooling at your waist.

“Lean forward,” he ordered, the dark color of authority back in his voice just like the night before.

You obliged, knowing that the thin, sheer panties you wore were giving him a clear view of your bare behind. A hand came smacking down onto your right cheek causing you to yelp, thighs clenching together at the sting.

“You like that, don't you?” Seokjin asked smoothly. You could hear his chair roll back a bit, as if he was repositioning to admire the view before him. “You like a little pain, hm?”

His hand smacked down on your opposite cheek before you could answer and you bit back a cry, remembering somewhere inside that you were still in your office building, that others could be nearby. His fingers made a tender swipe across your stinging skin.

“I thought so, from last night. I could feel your body react every time.” A hiss leaked from his lips as his hands caressed the naked flesh of your ass.

“I want to find out just how much you can take,” he said, landing another sharp smack onto one of your rear cheeks.

“I want this with you, Y/N. I want to test the limits of your body. To learn every little thing that makes your breath hitch and your toes curl. So that when I control you, you enjoy it just as much as I do.”

Another smack had you gritting your teeth. You looked back at him over your shoulder, seeing his gaze intently focused on your behind. Well, at least you had confirmed where his interests lay.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunted, wetting your lips as he looked up to meet your face.

He chuckled darkly. “I'll show you what else I've got when we're somewhere that you don't have to hold back your screams. For now, get on my desk. On your back.”

Intrigued, you did as he ordered, turning and laying back on the desk in front of him.

“Spread,” he commanded and you followed, legs slipping across the surface of the smooth wood, baring yourself to the man sat in front of you.

“Now touch yourself for me,” Seokjin ordered, broad shoulders leaning back into his chair, the glimmering amber of his eyes narrowed between your thighs.

Your fingers went between your legs as he asked, and you began rubbing slow, smooth circles onto yourself, your sensitive clit begging for more immediately.

He watched you for a while, the look of his concentrated focus adding pleasure to your display. He sat forward, pressing his fingers against your inner thigh, mimicking his teasing swirls from the morning.

“You take direction so well,” he purred, voice deepening with the words. You were already dripping, feeling wetness sticking to you through your panties. Just the sight of him like this, the satisfaction of following his orders and having him watch you like this had set your body ablaze.

“How are you already so wet for me again, angel?” he asked quietly.

“You’re just picking me back up where you left me last night,” you admitted. You were panting now, desperately waiting for him to put his hands where you wanted them most. His fingers instead paused on your skin.

“You didn’t finish yourself off last night?” he asked in surprise.

“No…no, sir. I didn't have a chance.”

“Fuck," he breathed, the curse sending shivers along your back. "You’ve been such a good girl and I didn’t even have to ask.” He was on his feet then, looking down into your eyes so intensely. Your fingers slowed, finding it difficult to focus on anything but the presence of him.

“Will you give me that power over you?" he asked, a hunger in his voice that you'd never heard before. "You won't come unless I say so?” You could feel his hands pressing into your thighs, gripping your flesh tighter in his eagerness.

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation, ready to promise him anything.

Seokjin’s hands were at your chest then, clutching the fabric of your blouse in bundled fists. You watched the corner of his mouth tighten for a moment. Then his fingers relaxed and began slowly unbuttoning your top until it was fully open. He slid you forward, lifting you up and deftly undoing your bra.

He leaned over you as he laid you back across the desk, planting a gentle kiss on your neck before biting down softly. You whimpered at the feeling and felt his tongue slide across the mark before he bit down again. You moaned out, savoring the sweet sting.

“Hm, you changed my plans tonight. Now I want to devour you whole," he breathed into your neck. His words dropped straight to your core and a faint whimper escaped your mouth.

His kisses and bites made their way down your chest, landing on your breasts and pulling a nipple into his mouth, then the other. Involuntary moans fell from your lips as his tongue flicked the sensitive surface. He met them with more gentle bites.

As your voice grew louder, Seokjin leaned up, hovering over your body for a moment.

“You're my good girl," he said in a hushed voice. "Quiet now.” He leaned up, quickly tugging the tie from around his neck. He wadded up the expensive looking material and pressed it to your lips, poking it into your mouth when you obediently parted them.

"Try not to be so noisy, hm?"

You tried your best as his mouth made its way down your body, retracing your breasts before traveling down and between your legs. Brushing your hands away, he lowered himself back into his chair and leaned forward, pressing teasing nips along your inner thighs.

You choked back a moan, squirming at the feeling, and his hands gripped your legs, holding you steady.

“Do you like that? You want me to leave reminders between your thighs like this?” He pressed another soft bite into the sensitive flesh and your moan came out softly muffled around the rich material of his tie. “Every time you look between your legs, I want you to remember me here. Remember that I control this body now.”

If this was going where you thought it was, it comforted you to know already that you were both safe. Jimin was no fool. Though it was against the policy, he knew his maids would do as they saw fit. So all of his staff and clients submitted to getting tested. It was perfect, because you didn't want any reason for this to stop.

Seokjin's breath was ghosting over your dripping mound and you whimpered, lifting your hips, silently begging him not to stop.

"Y/N, if we're going to continue this, I need to know that you're not seeing anyone else. I want to be your only Luxe client and sexual partner from now on. Nod if you agree."

You nodded fervently, already having made that decision. All you'd needed to know was that he wanted this as badly as you did.

His lips were on you then, tongue gently lapping at your sensitive button through your horribly soaked underwear. It took everything you had not to moan as you lifted your hips to meet his mouth. You were ready to explode at just this stimulation, everything you'd been holding back for the day rushing to the forefront.

You squirmed on his desk as he expertly massaged your sensitive clit with sure, slow strokes, breaking away occasionally to press teasing kisses everywhere else between your thighs. At some point you had begun drooling around his tie, unable to control your body’s urges as your mind unraveled with his touch. Your hands found their way into his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp in quiet praise of his movements.

You found yourself clenching at nothing, desperately wishing he would put something inside your hollow for you to grab, but still enjoying the burn as his tongue sped along your wetness.

Finally, you felt him tug your panties aside, eyes rolling back as he slid a finger deep into your dampness, then another, at an agonizingly slow pace. His tongue met his movements, draping across your clit while his fingers spread and rolled inside you.

His movements were calculated, driving you to an aching insanity while revving up the fire inside you tenfold. You wanted to moan his name, reduced to quiet whimpers as his fingers curled and uncurled inside you, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

"You've behaved so well for me," he whispered at last. "Come for me, angel.” At those words, he pressed his mouth against you, his tongue speeding across you just enough to have your hips quaking. You lifted up in response, wave after wave of your release rolling over you. His tongue pulled away, but his fingers kept up through your orgasm, gently rolling inside of you and prolonging the pleasurable spasms between your thighs.

Seokjin stood from his chair, tugging the now spit-soaked tie from your mouth. “I'll have to get you a proper ball gag, hm?”

His fingers were still buried inside you and a mischievous, half-smile was at his lips when you opened your eyes to look up at him hazily.

“Please," you whined. "I want to feel you inside me.” Though not unsatisfied with the work of his fingers and tongue, you wanted nothing more than to feel the stretch of his length buried deep inside you already.

Seokjin chuckled and it didn’t sound kind. “Good thing this isn’t about what you want.”

His fingers picked up pace again inside you, rubbing against your still swollen patch of roughness inside you and sending surprising electric pulses through your body. It was almost too much and you squirmed against his desk, bucking more at the oversensitivity as his thumb met your clit. You whined as he stroked it, reaching between your legs and pressing weakly against his hand in a quiet plea to stop.

He tugged your wrists away, gently pressing them back against your chest and continuing, speeding his fingers even more.

“Sensitive?" he asked, a bit smug considering he clearly knew the answer. You whimpered in response.

"Ah, ah, quiet, pet,” he urged and you bit down on one of your fingers, only letting an occasional whimper slip through. “That’s it. Does it hurt? But it feels good too, right?”

Your head was spinning. His fingers were relentless and something was welling up inside you that you couldn't place. You needed him to stop, but he just kept going, the lewd, wet sound of his hand slapping against your pussy echoing around the office. You lay your head back against his desk, closing your eyes and focusing on trying not to cry out.

“Pl…ple…” You couldn't finish your words, the rising ache between your thighs reaching an unbearable height.

“Please what?” He breathed, his voice a husky purr. “You’re really liking this, aren't you? I wonder, will this pussy come for me again? That's what I want. You're going to come again for me, angel, all over my hand.”

“Pl…Seo…” Your head was starting to spin, the persistence of stimulation drawing everything down your body to the white-hot point between your legs. A gentle tingling stirred within you. Seokjin pressed a hand to your stomach, holding you down, fingers stroking lightly in silent request.

“Relax, sweetheart. Just relax for me.”

You realized you had been clenching tight, muscles in your abdomen loosening beneath his fingers. An unfamiliar ripple was creeping down between your thighs and you did your best to relax, melting into his hand, now expertly pounding into the immense wetness between your legs.

Seokjin remained quiet and you opened your eyes to look up at where he hovered over your body. There was a fire in his gaze, pupils blown wide as he stared at your body like a starved man, as if you fed him with the searing hot pleasure rolling off your body. His tongue met his lips as he watched you, licking away some of the wetness of you that was still plastered across his face. It was enough to drag you over an unknown edge and you felt yourself clenching around his fingers again.

You exhaled a tense breath as another orgasm swept along your body, raging much stronger than the last. Your moans were raspy, barely escaping your throat as your body shook through the intense waves of your climax coupled with quiet, wet sounds coming from between your legs.

“Yes…” Seokjin hissed, voice shaking. “Such a good girl.” You heard a satisfied, throaty groan rumble from him backed by the noise of his hand against your wetness as his fingers rode with you through your sloppy release.

His fingers slipped from between your thighs and you heard him let out another satisfied groan. As your vision refocused you looked up and saw him staring down at himself. Propping yourself up onto your elbows, you spotted the stains on the thigh and a little down the leg of his deep, blue trousers. A spray of stains you were no doubt responsible for.

He noticed you looking on and smirked. “I really should be sending you a dry cleaning bill at this point.”

“Shit…” you panted, chest still heaving from the intensity.

“Is that usual for you?” he asked, fingers running across the mess that had splashed out onto your thighs.

“No. I mean, it’s happened before, but only once or twice. Shit,” you said again, your body reeling.

Seokjin stared at you for a while longer, as if trying to burn the image of you in your current state into his mind, then broke his gaze to offer you his dry hand.

“What, not even a tissue?” you asked as you took it and leaned forward to sit up, feeling the puddle that had formed beneath you.

“You have no idea how much you being a mess turns me on.” As if to punctuate his words, he wiped the hand that had been responsible for your mess along your neck and down to your exposed breast, leaving a trail of your wetness along your skin.

The thick impression of him against his pants let you know he definitely wasn’t lying. You raised your eyebrows at the sight, then looked up to him, biting your lip. Maybe tonight…

Seokjin offered his hand again and pulled you to your feet in front of him. Your legs were still a little weak but you found a careful footing with your heels.

“Take your panties off,” he ordered. “Slowly. And hand them to me.” He took a step back for a better view as your hands hooked into the sides of your wet undergarment.

You tugged the soaked things down your thighs, leaving wet streaks all along your legs before stepping out of them and handing them over as requested. Seokjin simply stuffed them into his jacket pocket, looking perfectly pleased with the exchange.

You traced a finger down the front of his shirt, pressing lightly into the expensive fabric and across the curves of muscle hidden beneath. "So exactly when do I get a chance to please you? Aren't doms supposed to be selfish?”

“It’s probably best if you forget everything you think you know about BDSM culture. It's much different than people imagine.”

You nodded. “I just…feel like this has been all about my pleasure.”

“You feel that way because you're behaving and I'm rewarding you. Trust me when I say your obedience is pleasurable for me.”

“And if I don't obey?”

He smiled down at you. “That'll be pleasurable for me too. We're just getting started, after all.”

“I feel like I have a lot to learn about this new label,” you sighed, leaning back against his desk, your bare ass pressing against the wetness that now covered the edge. How the hell was he going to get this cleaned up? Or were you supposed to do that? You stood up straight instead.

“Well to start, I'll need you to decide on your safe word for me. The last thing I want to do is continue something you're uncomfortable with.”

You nodded and considered for a few moments.

“Windex,” you said. When he raised an eyebrow you laughed to yourself. “Because I don't do windows.”

He breathed out a laugh and stroked his dry hand across your hair. “Cute.”

After taking a tissue to his damp hand, Seokjin reached into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a well-worn paperback book that he pressed into your hands. There were sticky notes and tags hanging from between several of the pages.

“This will get you started. You strike me as a bit of a brat, but I'll let you decide how you want to be with me. We can learn together what we’re comfortable with. We’ll take it slow and if our styles aren’t compatible then we can stop."

You flipped through a few of the pages, noting a couple of highlighted words - master, collar, flogging - before pressing it shut.

Seokjin's hands were on you then, tugging your skirt back down over your hips. He tilted up your chin, pressing a tender kiss onto your lips and your body melted against his, content with soaking in the warmth of his soft mouth for the rest of the evening. But too quickly, he was pulling away from you.

“It’s late, Y/N. Our floor should be empty. Get out of here and don't come into my office looking this delicious again. I won't make it if I want to drag you in here every day and eat you whole.”

“If you did that every day, I wouldn’t complain,” you responded under your breath.

“Y/N,” he warned, but there was no bite behind it.

You focused on him, the wide, round of his expanded pupils, the strain against the front of his pants. You so desperately wanted to take care of him, to make him feel as good as you did. But he seemed to want to wait, to keep you from that goal and you bit down on your new role, promising yourself you would let him be the guide on how things moved between you. Judging by the book, he was much more well-versed in this area than you anyway.

“This is the last time,” he said. “We’re playing a dangerous game here. As good as you look with your legs spread across my desk, we’re going to keep playtime to when and where it’s scheduled, alright?”

In spite of your current desires, you nodded your head and made quick work of rehooking your bra and buttoning up your shirt just in case there were stragglers hanging around in the corridors of your office. Seokjin’s hand slid around your waist as you finished, taking another long moment to steal a deep, wet kiss from your lips before breaking away and waving you towards the door.

His signal was coming at you a little mixed. If he felt so strongly about keeping things out of the office, why had he been so eager to feast on you here tonight when he could’ve easily taken you home? And why did he keep kissing you, soaking in your lips like he didn’t really want you to go anywhere?

But you weren’t complaining. He’d given you the answer you’d been looking for since sending you away last night. And you’d made the decision to embrace it, to dive in head first and experience this bit of sexual exploration alongside him. It was just sex after all and why shouldn’t you be able to have a bit of fun?

You clutched the little book to your chest and hurried out to your desk on legs that felt only slightly stronger than jello, grabbing up your belongings. As you moved to leave, you saw Seokjin leaning a shoulder against the frame of his office door, staring at you with an unsated hunger flashing in his deep, dark eyes. But he said nothing.

“If you want me to stay all you have to do is say so,” you offered in a hushed voice. His impossibly broad shoulders shook a little as he laughed and gave you a one-sided smile, waving a dismissive hand towards the elevators.

“I just want to watch you leave,” he said in that sneakily suggestive tone you were starting to get used to. You smiled, standing up tall and walking away from him with a little more sway in your hips than usual. Once you reached the elevator doors you dared to take a glance back. He hadn’t moved an inch, gaze firmly locked on you. You smiled wider to yourself, turning around and stepping into the elevator. He watched you without movement until the gleaming, silver doors slid shut in front of you.

Just as you reached your car, you heard your phone chime a couple of times with new messages. Sliding into your driver’s seat and tugging it from your purse, you saw Seokjin’s name scrolling across the screen.

The first message had a few more book suggestions that he thought you might benefit from reading. And after that…

Seokjin: Thank you

Seokjin: For trusting me to take care of you

But instead it was your mother's face that lit up the screen, the visual pulling a defeated groan from your lips. You weighed your options as the rings went by. You could ignore the call in favor of your vibrator, which you wholeheartedly knew wouldn't bring you enough satisfaction. Or you could answer the call from the last person on the planet you wanted to talk to when you were this agonizingly horny. Tough choice.

The ringing ceased while you thought, making your decision for you. Or so you thought, but then your phone started up its warble again. So she was in one of those moods, you acknowledged with a heavy sigh. You knew your mother wouldn't stop dialing until you picked up and it was probably in your best interest to answer, lest she show up at your door in a panic.

So dutifully, you tamped down your illicit thoughts of Seokjin and the multitude of smoldering fires he had stoked in you and swiped to answer.

"Y/N? Y/N?!" a high-pitched voice slurred through the speaker as you threw yourself onto your couch.

"Mom? Are you drunk?" Your mother wasn't usually the type to drink to excess, and it made you anxious for a moment to hear her in such a tipsy state.

"Y/N," she said, stumbling over the syllables of your name again. "I haven't talked to you in weeks! Have you forgotten about me?"

"No, Mom," you replied, worrying whether she was somewhere safe. "Just been busy with work. Are you drunk? Are you at home?"

"God, you sound like…like me nagging you when you were younger,” she said, sounding every bit the whiny teen that needed to be looked after. “Yes, I had a few drinks. Yes, I'm home." You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is Seungjun there with you?" you asked, hoping your mom's fiancé was at least watching after her while she got sloshed.

"He's around here somewhere. You know this house is way too big to keep tabs on him. He'll find his way to bed at some point."

Seungjun, your mother's much younger and quite wealthy fiancé had insisted she move into his estate house after his proposal a few months ago and your mother jumped at the opportunity to leave her modest apartment. Although it annoyed you that he was closer to your age than he was to hers, to his credit, he treated your mother like a queen and for the first time since the nasty split with your dad, she was glowing every time you saw her.

"I just wanted to catch up and check on you, honey," she said, and you settled in for what was sure to be one of your mother's long and apparently inebriated talks. You loved the woman dearly, but now didn't exactly feel like the ideal time for mother-daughter bonding.

As she caught you up on the latest, fabulous vacation Seungjun had whisked her away on, you found the fire inside you from earlier waning, morphing into something more tired and tame.

"So, have you started dating someone yet? I feel like I haven't heard you mention anyone since that Sehun boy," she said. The question made your stomach drop, considering where you'd been earlier.

"No," you answered simply, hoping your nonchalance would fool your mother, the woman who could usually read you like a book. "I'm not really interested in dating right now, Mom," you continued, praying she would stop there.

"And there's nothing wrong with that, honey," she said. You could hear the follow-up coming a mile away. "Is there any particular reason why?"

"No," you grumbled in irritation. Did you really have to talk about this now?

"Y/N. I know how you get about your relationships." Even after a few drinks, your mother still knew how to hit hard when it came to your love life. It was like the woman had a sixth sense, some light flickering on in her head as soon as you so much as looked at a man.

"Mom-" But she pressed on.

"Just because you took off your clothes for a living doesn't mean you don't deserve someone who makes you happy."

You sunk down further into the pillows of your sofa, wishing they would swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to have this conversation. It wasn't the first time your mom had brought this up and it likely wouldn't be the last considering she mentioned it after every boyfriend you'd had since college.

Maybe you had gone through a rough patch of self-esteem or two during your early days of exotic performance, but you were well past it at this point. You knew your worth. No, your issue was no longer your belief in yourself. You were just convinced you didn't have the capacity, and at this point the desire, to be someone's girlfriend.

“Mom…”

“I'm serious, honey. You always have a blue period after these breakups and I worry about you." A long pause followed her words and you knew she was gauging whether she would get anywhere with you right now. Either that or she had passed out on whatever expensive chaise she was probably spread out on. "I was able to find love again. Can you blame me for wanting the same for my only daughter? My brilliant, beautiful, stubborn baby?”

“I'm glad you found your happiness, Mom. And I know stripping doesn't mean I deserve any less than anyone else. I liked stripping. I’m just not interested in anyone right now, alright?” You kept your tone soft, acknowledging that your mother only wanted to see you happy.

“Okay, honey,” was all your mother said in response. You knew it wasn't the kind of "okay" that meant she would let it go, but just for now she would drop it. A sudden exhaustion had fallen over you and now the only things you desired were a hot bath and a long night with your pillow.

"I'll let you get to sleep," she yawned, clearly thinking of her own rest as well. "Come visit me soon, I miss you. And I want to show you the new bathroom! Seungjun let me remodel the whole thing and it's an absolute dream."

"I miss you too, Mom, love you. I promise to visit soon."

You hung up in a very different place than you had been when you walked through the door. The last person you had wanted to think about tonight was Sehun. Perfect Sehun with his perfect job and perfect smile and more than perfect package. But that was where perfect and reality collided. Arrogant, inattentive, and serious to a fault, he never really wanted to do anything fun or adventurous. Oh, and then there was the cheating, that hadn't been quite so perfect either.

You stewed over your mother's words. Even on days where you felt your most confident, there must have been some part of you that really did think you deserved less. Otherwise, why would you have put up with that mess of a relationship for as long as you did, only ending it when he wanted to?

You peeled off your soiled lingerie and stepped into the warm, bubbly water filling your tub with the soothing scents of rose and lavender. The urge to sate your baser needs had faded away in your contemplation. Thanks to your mother, all you could think about was what you really wanted.

Of course, stripping had been fun and exciting and you would never change your past for any reason. Landing this dream job was fulfilling as well, bringing you a sense of success to match all your hard work in school.

Your face sank beneath the bubbles as you thought. Why had you even dated Sehun in the first place? Maybe that had been the crux of the problem. He had expectations, but maybe you hadn't figured out your own enough to know exactly what you were looking for.

At this point in your life, even romance felt cliché and unrealistic. So what had you been expecting if not that? And what did that mean you wanted now?

You had spent part of the day tempting some kind of sexual gratification with Seokjin, your boss and the only man that was really off limits to you. What was your end game with him? What could possibly come of exploring what you had offered to explore with him?

You finished your bath with your thoughts weighing heavy and headed to bed with fewer answers about your true desires and more questions about what exactly you wanted from this situation.

Parading around in nothing for strangers was one thing, but fooling around with Seokjin was rife with consequences. Would you really be able to keep up pretenses at work knowing what you were doing? Would you get caught? Was he really even interested or was he just playing you for a fool? You had told him you trusted him, but should you have given that up so easily?

Your bedsheets were suffocating, everything that touched your skin setting off your senses and keeping you in constant rotation. You were sure you had fooled yourself into thinking sleep was possible. But at some point you had drifted off, and when your alarm sounded you woke up surprisingly refreshed, your thoughts having untangled themselves in your dreams.

At the end of the day, it was just sex, that was it. And there was nothing wrong with that. You and Seokjin were both adults and if he was serious about exploring this new relationship with you, you didn't want to say no. Most of your past relationships had been about two people looking for what everyone was supposed to want: love, family, and the future. For once, you decided, you just wanted to explore something for fun.

Now the job would be to figure out if Seokjin was as serious as you were. Today needed to be a test. If Seokjin was serious about exploring a sexual relationship with you, you needed him to prove it. With all his hesitation from the night before, you needed a clearer signal.

You hedged that he probably thought you wouldn't want to continue with him after he sent you away so unsatisfied last night, that he wanted you to think about things and chicken out. Well, you'd thought and here was your answer, loud and clear for him.

You looked over yourself in the mirror. Clothing was again going to serve as your armor and you planned to be well-prepared for battle. Your soft, white blouse was long sleeved, with the first button undone; just enough to be dangerous. The little lace details kept it feminine and professional enough.

You tucked that into a very form-fitting, dark-colored miniskirt, although calling it mini might have been generous. You had never worn anything that showed this much leg to your workplace, but if this was the game you needed to play then you planned to play it like a champion. The expensive materials were certainly work-appropriate for the most part. Once you slipped on your sky-high black stilettos, you gave yourself a once-over in the mirror. Was it too much? You desperately needed a second opinion and you couldn't very well text your mother after your conversation last night.

You sent a picture to Jieun, your night owl of a friend that you hoped hadn’t yet gone to bed.

Jieun: Yawn. If you’re going for the hot secretary look, you’re nailing it. Skirt’s still too long for me though. And undo that second button, show off those pretty tits.

Jieun: What’s this about? Are you off today?

Y/N: I’ll catch you up later, but I’m trying to get his attention today. Yes? No?

Jieun: Consider it gotten.

“Whoa, Y/N. Whose boner are you chasing today?”

You smiled at the reaction. Even though it wasn't coming from the right mouth, it confirmed that your target had hit the mark.

“Definitely not yours, Min,” you responded through a wry smile as you set your things on your desk. The walk to your cubicle had been uneventful, many people not even giving you a second glance. You hoped that lack of attention meant you wouldn’t be getting any nasty calls from HR during the day.

“Good for you then, since my pants remain shockingly relaxed,” the blond at the desk behind you responded. He stood up, giving you a not-so-subtle once over from top to bottom, ending with one of the smuggest smiles you’d ever seen on his face.

“Seriously, you do remember we have a staff meeting this morning, right?" he intoned in his low drawl of a voice. "I might have good taste, but others in that meeting will be thinking about something entirely different than weekly reports.”

Painfully cocky and with a smart mouth to match, Yoongi had never been shy about giving his opinion on things in a loud and clear fashion, whether someone asked for it or not. Which would be fine if he’d earned the arrogance through standout performance, but that never seemed to be his way. Hired not long before you, he would often show up with a clear hangover and you were half sure you'd seen him sleeping at his desk more than once. But his work was adequate compared to the rest of the team, he seemed to know his stuff, and Seokjin inexplicably put trust in the man. Though sometimes he would be paired with you, Jihye, or Ara to make double sure clients were handled properly.

“Morning, all!” a bright voice full of cheer and summer called to the two of you and you glanced back to see Seokjin’s secretary smiling at you both as she walked over to your work area. You recognized the look she gave you, the subtle glance at your slightly exposed cleavage, then to Yoongi, before looking away and quickly checking her own. When you spent your nights taking off your clothes for a living, women often unconsciously compared themselves to you, just as you were sure you sometimes did. Returning her smile, you really hoped you hadn’t made her uncomfortable, but Yoongi’s voice interjected in the silent exchange.

“Morning, beautiful,” he chucked over you in a flirty tone that had you rolling your eyes. “Now there’s a gorgeous girl that anyone would love to get behind and she doesn’t even have to whip out her tits, eh?” he said, lowering his voice to something mischievous at the end.

Your eyes went back to Sooyoung, not sure what she’d heard, but she was definitely blushing at his words. And you swore she was hiding an embarrassed smile as she hurried over to her desk just outside of Seokjin’s now closed office door. You groaned in disgust.

“Real smooth, Min.”

He only chuckled quietly and sat himself back down into his office chair, propping an expensive looking leather shoe up onto his desk. Considering that you'd never heard him use the words "beautiful" and "gorgeous" toward anyone aside from Sooyoung, it sometimes made you feel protective of her. Though you hadn't really gotten to know her as well as Jihye and Ara, Sooyoung was never anything but sweet and professional. She definitely deserved attention from someone classier than Min Yoongi.

"Wow, Y/N. Did you dip into the wrong closet this morning?" Jihye was stood casually next to her desk, sipping from her coffee cup which was already marked with her heavy, red lipstick. She brushed aside some of the fringe from her short black hair and gave you a once-over, nodding her head in quiet approval. As the one who often joked about coming to raid your closet for your previous job's wardrobe, you could tell that Jihye was admiring your getup more than anything.

"Bitchin' shoes," she said, giving a final nod and slumping herself lazily into her chair. You wondered if she might be the one nursing a hangover this morning.

Ara had snuck in behind Jihye, eyes widening as they landed on you before she hurried to her desk. Her look definitely gave you pause. Had you gone overboard? You were starting to regret your fashion choice for the day. Maybe your judgment had been clouded by last night and your actions really were a little extreme. Still, the only real difference in these clothes and your usual work attire was a few undone buttons and a barely shorter skirt. Okay, a lot shorter, but was it really cause for this kind of attention? And if, excluding Min, these were your friend's reactions, would the judgment once you reached the staff meeting be that much worse?

You stepped out of your cubicle and into the aisle, planning to head to the bathroom and reassess yourself. Maybe you really should run home and change. Then you heard Seokjin's tight, high laughter echoing across the floor. He was heading away from Namjoon's office and you knew his next stop would be near the five of you, always making a point to check in with his team in the mornings.

You swallowed. This was it, the moment of truth. In your best case scenario, Seokjin would pull you into his office and you could both talk candidly about the evening before. In your worst case scenario, he would pull you into his office and send you home, maybe even fire you on the spot. You bit your lip, muscles tensing at the thought, and retreated back into your cubicle.

“Morning, all. How was everyone’s weekend?”

Since your desk was closest to the front, Seokjin leaned an elbow over the side, greeting you all with his usual half-smile. As his eyes slid past you, you realized you were holding your breath. But if he'd seen anything he liked, he gave absolutely no indication, his gaze moving on to everyone else.

"Oh, I went to my sister's wedding on Saturday!" Ara piped up, her soft voice bubbly with excitement as she tugged out her phone. "She had it at that really pretty temple by the lake where we had our holiday party a couple of years ago."

"Oh, I totally forgot!" Jihye said, pulling herself up from her chair. "Let's see the pictures."

You hurried over with Jihye to look at the pictures on Ara's phone, casually standing next to Seokjin who looked on as well. As Ara prattled about the fancy service, you took a cautious, sideways glance at Seokjin. He noticed your attention and gave you a simple wink before turning his focus back to the phone.

That was it. Seokjin's winks were nothing out of the ordinary. Other than that, he wasn't giving you anything. Nada. Zip. Zilch. No reaction.

You made a point of heading back to your desk slowly, but when you sat down, Seokjin hadn't looked in your direction at all, instead having turned his attention to Jihye and asking after her parents.

Yoongi had spent the entire exchange on his phone, openly uninterested in wedding pictures or idle chatter. Sooyoung made her way over to look at pictures as well and, slightly defeated, you pulled out your own phone.

Y/N: My tits are literally falling out of my shirt and he's acting like I’m wearing a potato sack.

Jieun: Give it some time, you just got there right? He can't very well rip off your clothes in the middle of your office on a Monday morning.

Y/N: I wouldn't mind :'(

Jieun: My impatient bitch ❤Y/N: Fuck you.

Half an hour later and you were all heading into the conference room for your weekly meeting. The room was enormous considering the company only had about one-hundred staff members. Everyone, from the CEO to the front-door receptionist attended each week, listening to department heads drone on for an hour, sometimes two, depending on how blustering they felt or what changes had happened in the world of finance.

You took up your usual seat which, just your luck, happened to be next to Seokjin. Any other week that fact wouldn't have even crossed your mind. But after last night, everything felt so different to you.

But Seokjin hadn't given you any reason to expect something different. In fact, it was him that stressed last night that things at work should stay the same. So you attempted to follow his example and pretend like nothing had changed between you.

You decided it was a little desperate anyway, trying to garner the same attention on your ass that he had given you less than twenty-four hours ago. If he was true to his word, come your next scheduled evening you would have more opportunity to test his interest. You grumbled internally, less than satisfied with your forced maturity.

You felt your phone vibrate as soon as you settled into your usual seat at the enormous conference room table and tugged it from your notebook, expecting another quip from Jieun.

But after seeing the name on the notification, you glanced up and spotted Namjoon, his eyes gleaming as he watched you intently. He was seated further down the table near his team, but his stare was solely focused on you, eyes narrowed and mildly suggestive, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You dropped your gaze back to your phone and swiped open the message.

Namjoon: Baby girl! 😍🔥👅💦

Namjoon: How can I dream about giving up on you when you walk in here looking like a twelve-course meal?

You put a hand over your lips, hoping it hid your smile. Again, it may not have been coming from the source you wanted, but the attention was appreciated.

Truthfully, Namjoon should've given up on you months ago. He'd been one of the managers to interview you during your application to the company, and you'd both been equally shocked by seeing each other in that small conference room.

He swore to you later that your hiring had been solely on your merits, but from then on he'd casually pursued you, often referring to your meeting again as destiny. Never pushy, his flirting had been mostly a complimentary ego boost. But you were still dating Sehun when you were hired, and even when that relationship ended you never let yourself give in to Namjoon's advances, no matter how cute his dimples were when he smiled at you. In this moment, you were wondering if that was a mistake.

The CEO had already begun speaking when your phone gave another light buzz at your fingers.

Namjoon: This is going to be a hard meeting to get through, if you know what I mean 🍆

Y/N: You used to pay me to keep you that way.

Namjoon: Used to. Now all I want is a chance to make you smile every day, baby girl. 😢 Can I pay you for that?

He had definitely succeeded this time, your lips slowly stretching into a wider grin. Namjoon was definitely a charmer. But it wasn’t fair. The one you wanted this type of attention from was currently sat next to you, taking notes in his black, leather-bound notebook and, for all intents and purposes, ignoring you and your attire.

You pulled back, straightening up in your chair and mentally scolding yourself. Seokjin had never made any sort of advances on you before. Why would today be any different, no matter what you wore, no matter what had transpired between you the evening before? Professionalism always came first. You learned that about him after the drunken night you'd spent talking at the bar all those weeks ago. If he had been sweet enough to haul your blackout drunk self home and not mention it afterward, he was enough of a gentleman to keep any suggestive advances out of the workplace.

You ignored the next buzz of your phone, instead focusing on the actual reason you were at the meeting. Though accounting might have been a dry field, you still wanted to stay on top of how the company was faring and what projects were currently going on.

When it was Seokjin's turn to speak for his department, he gave a casual report of everyone's latest cases. Surprisingly, he even brought up your accomplishments with your client's most recent case. It was just like Seokjin to highlight his team's strengths when it was really more thanks to his guidance that your team succeeded than anything else.

He called on you and you gave a brief summary of what you had been working on to the room, trying to keep it short and sweet to not bore anyone else to tears.

“The client was very pleased that we caught the change and it’ll save both parties quite a lot of fees. Other than that, nothing further to report.” A short silence followed and you glanced up at Seokjin. He gave you the brief shadow of a pointed look, one you had only received recently and the prompt left your mouth before you could catch it.

“-sir.”

He seemed happy with your answer, continuing his report as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. You gripped your phone, fingers nervously wrapping around the tiny piece of technology. Why had you said that? More importantly, how had he drawn that out of you in the middle of all these people, your colleagues that you saw every day. Would anyone notice the strange beat of behavior? A quick glance around met you with sleepy faces and disinterested stares, much to your relief.

And so the meeting droned on, with each department giving their reports and anecdotes and mildly inspiring talks. Your concentration waned, thoughts uncontrollably rolling back to the night before. You lost track of the topic completely as you allowed yourself to wallow in your lewd memories, uncertain, thanks to Seokjin's apparent disinterest, that you would be having an opportunity like that again.

A sudden, electric shock traveled along your skin, causing you to stiffen slightly in your seat. Looking down at your lap, you saw a hand pressed lightly against the bare skin of your thighs. Long, slightly curved fingers began brushing against the sensitive skin there and you couldn't help but hold your breath. Your eyes followed the arm up to its owner, where Seokjin sat next to you. But he wasn’t looking at you, his attention instead focused on the manager currently speaking, cheek leaning casually against his opposite hand. Though he gave up no emotion, his side profile was tragically handsome and you swore you could stare at that face all day. But the look of him wasn’t what was making your nipples harden beneath your blouse.

His forearm rested against the arm of your chair, fingers now lightly sweeping against the skin of your thighs, drawing soft, nonsense shapes on top. The movement was subtle, almost innocent as if he did it absentmindedly. The silky pads of his fingers moved without purpose, lightly rubbing your skin just at the hem of your absurdly short skirt.

You shivered a little from the contact, involuntarily squeezing your thighs together at his touch and his hand paused, letting you know he felt the reaction. You spared him a glance, swearing that the corner of his mouth was upturned slightly more than usual. And then his fingers resumed their dance.

You looked away quickly, not wanting to draw any attention to the exchange between the two of you. You were pretty sure the movement was hidden by the table in front of you both, but if anyone were to lean at just the right angle, they might catch the action and you didn't want to chance it.

Your breathing hitched slightly as his fingers pressed with a little more force, gently massaging the skin with a more definitive purpose and pulling your memories to the foreground.

Pockets of heat burst across your skin, the rich desire from last night returning tenfold, setting you on edge in the middle of this packed board room.

The move was innocent enough that it only felt slightly inappropriate, but specific enough that you knew he was doing it on purpose. To test the theory, you adjusted yourself in your seat, spreading your thighs slightly further apart.

His hand paused again for only a moment before continuing its teasing strokes. As the meeting wore on, you could feel the tips of his fingers slipping further inward towards the skin of your inner thighs. But never any higher, towards the place you were once again desperate to feel his touch. He only ever brushed the edge of your skirt, never taking the opportunity to dip beneath. It drove you mad and heightened your need for him at the same time. You didn't dare push him away.

He kept up his teasing for the remainder of the meeting, keeping you simmering while highlighting your dissatisfaction from the night before. What was he playing at with this move? Was this his way of saying he knew how you felt?

From this simple touch, you could feel the dampness forming between your thighs, the heat rushing back into your chest. If he would only move up just a little, he could feel the effects that his toying was having on you.

You were pretty sure he could finger you under this table and no one would be the wiser. But you didn't reach for his hand, not wanting to push him forward in case he stopped altogether. The teasing was agonizing, but it felt so good. You didn't want it to stop.

And then he was pulling his hand away, and the rest of the room bled back into your focus. People were pulling out their chairs and gathering their things. Seokjin scooped up his notebook and stood to meet the approach of the CEO who pulled him into a strong handshake and clap on the back. You watched him head out of the room, a million questions spinning in your mind, least of all if you were going to have to find a new pair of underthings.

"Hey, Y/N. Can I ask you about that last case? I didn't even know that law had changed." Ara was suddenly standing beside you and you shook your head briefly, forcing yourself out of your seat and back down to Earth.

You lost track of Seokjin after that, pouring yourself instead into your work for the morning. Ara and Yoongi needed your help on a case file with a similar problem you'd faced last week. It was well beyond time for you to update some of your client's notes and meet with a few of the actuaries. And you spoke to a few of your top clients on the phone to clarify some of their tax filings.

But deep inside all you wanted was to talk to Seokjin. Why? Why had he done that? Was it meant to let you know he was interested? Was he playing you for a fool, just teasing you because he knew he could?

As the day wore on and your attention was drawn further into your actual work, it was Namjoon who found his way over to your desk.

"Hey, we're all heading out for lunch, you guys in?" he asked, casually leaning against the side of your cubicle. The rest of your team quickly agreed, ready for a well-deserved break. It was normal for you all to have lunch together, although a group lunch definitely wouldn't give you a chance to talk privately with Seokjin.

As if on cue, your boss walked by the group on the way to his office in an apparent hurry.

"Hey Jin, are you joining us for lunch?" Namjoon shouted over towards him, casually tossing out his friendly nickname for the man. Seokjin gave a polite wave, then handed a few folders off to Sooyoung before moving towards the door to his office.

"Can't today. I have a conference call,” he said quickly, face apologetic. “You guys enjoy."

The place everyone settled on was within walking distance to your office. Along with your team, Namjoon's group made another six that worked under him. It was either brilliant hiring managers or a stroke of dumb luck that you all got along so well. You knew for a fact that things weren’t so peaceful in every department.

Amid jokes and mild discussions about work, you found yourself quieter than usual. Today you couldn't help but be internally focused, and as you munched through your lunch you tried to listen in on others conversations as some form of distraction from the thoughts bouncing inside your head. You were trying to follow the pair nearest you in a strange yet heated discussion about the economic effects of the Hundred Years' War when someone spoke up louder from across the table.

"Namjoon, the food is on your plate, not across from you." Yoongi's voice drew your attention away and you found yourself again in the line of Namjoon's heavy stare.

"Maybe so. Though there are things not on my plate that I wouldn't be opposed to eating," he said casually, smirking at you before taking a sip of his water.

"Gross," Jihye complained. "Can we have one lunch without you drooling over Y/N? She clearly doesn't want to fuck you, Namjoon, shit." As aloof as she often tried to portray herself, Jihye was consistently protective of anyone she called a friend. Ara giggled alongside her, giving you a sympathetic smile.

It was sweet of your friends to come to your defense and you giggled in stride while Namjoon took a good ribbing from a few of the guys on his team. You were happy that your company was the way it was. At least between your teams, it somehow managed to feel like a family, with easy going managers like Seokjin and Namjoon, and even CEO Min who often treated staff much more like a stern grandfather than the head of a high-profile, billion dollar company.

You sighed a little as you looked Namjoon over. He really was attractive and you still hadn't come up with a solid excuse for why you'd never given him a chance. It just never felt right in your gut. The thoughts brought you back to the contemplation you'd had the night before.

Sex with Namjoon had been great, but what would be your end game? You were pretty sure he meant to make a girlfriend out of you and you had failed in that arena enough times to know it probably wasn't best for you right now. Plus, you didn't want there to be hard feelings if, like the rest of your relationships, this one didn't pan out either.

Namjoon seemed to notice your attention on him, winking an eye at you. You smiled, but returned your attention to your plate thinking it wiser not to give him any false hope.

As starved as you felt from last night, you could honestly admit to yourself that you wouldn't mind dragging Namjoon away to the bathrooms and letting him fuck you senseless. It would definitely satisfy the itch that had been twisting through you for half the morning. Truthfully, you were grateful he was only sitting across from you. You had a feeling that, had he gotten his hands on you, you would’ve taken any opportunity to use him to exercise your frustrations. You knew them to be very good hands, after all.

"Oh, we've been here a while. I think it's time to head back," one of Namjoon's team members pointed out. Everyone mumbled, tummy's full, and began to gather their things to pay and head out.

As the others headed towards the door and you stood from your seat to join them, Namjoon’s hand encircled your own.

“I think that's the first time I've seen you looking at me that way since you started working here. What's on your mind, baby girl?"

“Mr. Kim," you replied playfully. "You should probably stick to calling me by my name during office hours before Jihye rips your throat out.” He chuckled, stepping a little closer and lowering his voice.

“And after office hours? Can I call you what I want then?” The depth of his tone was like silk against your ear, calling up memories of the night you'd shared all that time ago. Your eyes settled on his and he raised an eyebrow, no doubt surprised that your rejection wasn't as immediate as usual.

“Y/N! Hurry your ass up!” Jihye’s impatient voice rang out from the restaurant’s entrance. You blinked, coming back to your senses and tugging your hand from his.

“I'll see you around,” you rushed out the words and hurried along after your friends, happy to make your way back to the office.

You noticed Yoongi lingering at Sooyoung's desk when you returned, overhearing her mention that Seokjin would be tied up in meetings all afternoon. There was nothing for it, your need to finally talk to him. So instead, you threw yourself into your work for the rest of the afternoon, pushing away whatever distracting thoughts kept bubbling up in your mind.

As the end of the day drew nearer and your colleagues headed out one by one, you gave up, planning to head home and drown your concerns in a bottle of cheap wine and maybe some salty takeout.

Just as you shut down your system you saw your illustrious boss finally return from wherever he'd been all afternoon. He stopped at Sooyoung's desk, handing her another bundle of papers before apologizing to her profusely and turning to head into his office. He noticed you still at your desk, giving you a coy wink before heading in.

It was enough to encourage you out of your seat.

“Hey, boss?" you asked after him before he could head inside. "Can I please talk to you?”

Seokjin paused at his door, glancing back at you with a smile. “You know my office is always open.”

You hurried over and through the entrance. “Privately?” you asked a bit quieter, throwing the door behind you an anxious glance.

“Oh. Of course.” Seokjin, already at his desk, held down the intercom on his phone. “Sooyoung, why don’t you head home. My schedule is finally cleared. Thanks for the hard work today.”

He motioned for you to close the door and then take a seat across from him. His office smelled just like always, like an earthy forest on a warm summer day. As you took a seat on the buttery leather, you decided the fragrance at his apartment was slightly different, deeper and a bit more sensual.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. You huffed in response. So he wasn't budging an inch from this innocent workplace persona.

"Are we going to talk about what happened this morning? Or last night, for that matter?" you asked bluntly, no longer in the mood for tiptoeing.

Seokjin cocked his head, smile faltering slightly. But he stayed quiet.

"Seokjin!" you said in frustration.

“You told me last night that you trusted me," he said with a sigh, lowering his voice slightly. "Is that out the window now?”

“No, I…I do trust you, I just…”

“Listen, this whole arrangement will be new for both of us. But there are rules here against relationships between a boss and subordinate, sexual or otherwise. As I see it, I'm paying you for a service outside of work and there’s no rule against that. But nothing in this office can change, Y/N.”

“You spent twenty minutes rubbing my thigh under a table this morning, Seokjin," you bit back. "Things have already changed.”

“Seokjin?” A quiet knock followed at his office door, both of you turning to look at it. Your heart jumped into your throat, unsure if your words had been overheard.

“Come in,” he said and the door slowly swung open. A curious Sooyoung eyed you in your seat and gave a nervous smile to the both of you.

“I updated that last file really quickly for you, Seokjin, in case you planned to work on it tonight. And don't forget you have an 8:30 tomorrow morning.” She smiled, giving you another nervous glance. “I'll go ahead and head home.”

“Thank you, Sooyoung. I don't deserve you," he said graciously. "Have a great night.”

As if she wasn't sure what to do, Sooyoung paused for a second before pulling the door shut behind her, leaving you both once again in the quiet of his office. You held your breath and Seokjin stayed silent, both of you waiting to hear Sooyoung's retreating footsteps.

When you were sure she was gone, your gaze went back to your boss and he hesitated.

“The flesh is weak, alright?" he admitted, embarrassment making the tips of his ears go red. "I had full intentions of heeding my own words today. And then we went into that meeting and you sat next to me and all I could think about was you spreading your legs for me last night. I just wanted to feel you again." He tilted his head, glancing down in a slow study of your cleavage and below. "And since you're wearing, I think, the shortest skirt I've ever seen you in, that made it infinitely more tempting to touch you. Speaking of which, I got a complaint from HR about that. I think you made someone jealous.”

So he had noticed. You wanted to look good for him today, despite all your worries. You wanted him to see what he wanted, wanted to make sure the sight of you made his throat go dry.

You were up out of your seat then, making your way around his desk and standing next to him, leaning back against the rich wood.

“So does that mean you've paid attention today?”

There was a light tug at the corner of his lips. “I've always paid attention. You think I'd agree to being involved with you so quickly like this without already carrying a torch for you? I might not be as obvious as some of the other people in this office, but I’m no fool.”

“I had no idea,” you said with shaky breath. How had you never noticed?

Seokjin breathed a short laugh, sitting back in his chair and taking you in for a moment. He leaned his chin on his hand, the gaze of his warm, cinnamon eyes settling on yours. Something about the way he looked at you struck you deeply, calling up another unfamiliar prickle of modesty. You shifted on your feet, still unable to put your finger on why he could draw that feeling out of you.

“You really don't remember, do you?” he asked with a half-smile that looked a little wistful.