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Jimin accidentally releases a genie from what he thought was a golden gravy boat when going through a box of antiques his grandfather left for him. His first wish? To meet his soulmate. Too bad he's expecting a busty blonde and gets a flat chested brunette with a penis instead.
in which jung hoseok is in Denial™ about his so called "feelings" for park jimin.
Sure thing Jimin was free for a quick bang, because such has been their stress-relief business model for ages. That being said, it’s the first time Hoseok asks him for his dick-oriented help at the actual studio.
There were two things Hoseok was extremely thankful for right now; first, that Jimin could not see his face, and second, that he still seemed too sleepy to fully grasp the current situation. If he came up with something really, really quick, maybe he could -
“Did you… did you just grind against me?”
"Jimin pushes Hoseok onto the mattress, easing between the elder’s thighs. They fit, always, as Jimin drapes himself across the other, his bare knees sliding across the cool sheets. He licks into the elder’s mouth, tasting peppermint and desperation, while Hoseok works on shoving his sweater up his body."
He was...sensitive. Very much so. And Jimin knew it well, the bastard, and never failed to prey on that every damned time he had Hoseok at his mercy.
Hoseok remembers asking him casually, once, why he liked it so much - why preferred to have him shrieking from a handful of caresses instead of prolonging their scenes into something more substantial.
Because you look so fragile when I do, he'd said, Like a doll.
Hoseok's still sensitive from the night before but nothing would ever stop him from riding Jimin early in the morning 'cause this is what Hoseok craves, what he absolutely lives for.
He turned away and began walking back towards his room until Jimin’s voice made him stop in his tracks. “So that's what you like?”
Hoseok bristled, not really wanting to defend himself but expecting this all the same. “Yeah, so do you.”
Jimin blushed. “There's nothing wrong with that.”
"You've thought about Namjoon fucking you, haven't you?"
aka where Hoseok thinks that one of his co-workers is the most precious and beautiful people in the world.
Turns out that beautiful person wants to fuck him in the ass.
Not that Hoseok really minds.
They're both familiar with schedules, so it's no surprise that those habits follow them off the base. Even away from the locker rooms and drills, they still have routines. And like clockwork, Hoseok's own routine is a hot and selfish itch telling him to straddle Jimin in the sand.
Jimin decides to give his boyfriend an extra special present.
Jimin helps Hoseok get some much needed sleep. Hoseok accepts the fact that there's nothing he can do but live and enjoy the moment.
There are rules involved in being a Guardian angel. Maintain one's vigil. Protect one's charge against the immaterial threats that few human beings are ever able to perceive. This is what they are created for. It is the very essence of their nature. However, it all comes with a word of caution - be careful not to get too involved, no matter what the reason to do so might be.
Hoseok is a Guardian angel, assigned to a human named Jimin. This is a story about what happens when said angel decides that the only way to save the man he protects means that he has to break the rules.
At first glance, there was nothing really spectacular about the boy. But after months of just watching him, Hoseok knew that the orange haired boy was quite extraordinary.
Of course, back when Hoseok first caught a glimpse of him, his hair hadn't been orange. Instead, it’d been a dark brown, but it wasn't like Hoseok didn't like the boy’s new orange hair. The color quite suited the younger boy. It made his features more softer and when he smiled at the cashier, his eye smile appeared to be even more larger than before. Hoseok couldn't deny that he absolutely adored the color on the boy.
Married is what they are.
Hoseok’s been telling it like it is for years: jangma ain’t no time for complicated shit like, say, walking or getting up or hell, sleeping. Mostly, jangma ain’t the season for existing, and because of that, he actually hasn’t been saying shit, just swallowing that muggy garbled nonsense along with oxygen, rare and good and only 80% relatively humid on the average, or whatever the fuck they always say on TV, choking in their ties and wiping sweat off their receding hairlines with white handkerchiefs.
lipslikesuga has followed you!
Hoseok stared at his phone screen like he was having a wonderful fever dream, ignoring Irene as she chimed in, "Isn't that the guy who writes all that kinky porn on ao3?"
Jimin already kind of knew that his home was more person than place, but for Hoseok, infatuation is a slow, frightening realization. Turning feelings into words is more for his benefit than Jimin's, but with the help of instant ramyun, a complimentary hotel face mask, and several massages, they're eventually able to work out some mutual peace of mind.
(“Park Jimin, you know what you’re doing, don’t you?”
“Sure.”
“So?”
The first ice cube pops into the palm of Jimin’s hand, shockingly cold in the stifling leftover daytime heat that still lives in their house. “Well. If it’s what you want, then I guess I’ll be honored to be your first.”)
And there it is.
There it is, like a weird pastiche but not awful at all.
Jimin, lying on the floor of their bedroom and sardined in the naked no-zone between the beds. Missing only a proper chalk outline.
jan 8 2018 +