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#hoseok x you
seokjinsonlyone · 1 year
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this how i think bts would be if you both knew you liked each other but you weren’t dating yet
a/n: you guys been looking forward to this one hope it lives up to your expectations 🥹👉👈 and you should like totally lemme know what you thought about it after you're done
namjoon:
calls you on the phone every night; asks about your day and genuinely wants to know every little detail no matter how insignificant; gets shy when you ask about his
always extends an invite to you to join him at a museum; he goes to so many so often so he understands if you can’t go every time but he really likes it when you can go; likes hearing your thoughts on different pieces no matter how ridiculous bc you’re really not that well versed in art and architecture; he also likes the look in your eye and how intently you listen to him when he actually explains the intent behind the art
wraps his arms all the way around you, completely engulfing you when you hug; gives you an extra squeeze and rubs circles on your lower back before letting go
pet names start slipping out willy nilly; beautiful, princess, pretty girl, lovely; like the more and longer he likes you the less your name come out his mouth
he got mad rizz dog; like everyone once in a while he's gonna hit you with a pick up line that catches you off guard; gon have you giggling and blushing; but he also will be giggling and blushing afterward bc he gets shy after being cute
lowkey wants your approval for everything; doesn’t NEED it but he’d like it tho for sure; like would let you listen to his unreleased music and wait with bated breath while you listened until you gushed about how good it all was
if someone came up to him while y’all were hanging out and started flirting with him he would not notice at all; you’d wait until he was done carrying on the conversation and (semi)jokingly be like “so when’s the date” and he’d be soooo confused; “huh?” “they were totally flirting with you!” “really?” “if they smiled any harder they cheeks would’ve split open and did you see how hard they were laughing? you not that funny joon 🙄” “i’m sorry i didn’t notice. i promise i wasn’t flirting back tho. the only person i wanna flirt with is you.”
seokjin:
turns red whenever you’re around; like just constantly feels called out even if no one said anything bc it’s like he knows how he feels, all his friends know how he feels, and most importantly you know how he feels; embarazzing
becomes your local fruit dealer; like whenever his family or friends give him a bunch of produce from their various farms you’re definitely on the list of people he gifts them too; he gives you a bigger share than his members too <3
sends you pictures of the food he cooks and always saves you a plate after hearing you talk about how good it looks
asks for your switch code and invites you to play games with him whenever he has down time; like will stay up to 4am playing mario strikers or nintendo switch sports with you
gets really good at origami bc one time you met up and he felt awkward not having anything to get you so he used the gum wrapper in his pocket to make you a paper airplane; now every time you meet up he has a new paper sculpture; like you end up with a whole drawer of paper hats, planes, cups, flowers, frogs, ninja stars; has a cute little message written inside that makes you smile each time you unfold them
overly helpful; like he tryna do whatever he can for you; he’s holding your bag, opening doors for you, at one point he even goes so far as to lay his jacket on the bench y’all sitting on so your butt won’t be cold 💀
his number one goal when y’all are around each other is to make you laugh; like it doesn’t really matter if you’re laughing with him or at him as long as he hears that cackle he considers the interaction a success
yoongi:
not used to initiating any kind of interaction (outside of work) with people so he just lingers around you and hopes something happens; takes you a while to realize that’s his way of asking for attention
pretty much willing to go along with whatever to make you happy; like if you were complaining about never having anyone to go to the store with he’d offer himself up so fast and that’s how you’d end up with him in ulta helping you pick out lashes
has to get scolded by seokjin repeatedly bc the one text he sent him in the past month was left on read but he replies to you almost immediately every time you message him
silently takes care of you; like if you were eating together and got choked up on something he's just gonna get up and get you a bottle of water then slide it over without ever looking you in the eye; or if you complained about your hands being cold he'd start carrying around those hand warmer pouch thingies waiting for the next time you said something then he'd just put them in your pocket
starts opening up to you 🥺
it may not last for long but when you’re speaking with him he’ll look directly into your eyes
his hands flinch a lot when you're around; sometimes he's just hit with the inexplicable urge to hold your hand or touch you in some sort of way but he hasn't quite figured out y'all's dynamic yet so he's afraid to go for it
hoseok:
becomes zendayafied; like if you think it’s bad with jimin… you ain’t seen the worst of it; you might as well be richard pryor at the apollo the way he be cracking up over any and every little thing you do; his laugh can be heard halfway across the world
he stalks your ig page and replies to all your stories with a series of emojis; shows them to his friends and goes on and on about how cute you are
sends you a bouquet of flowers and texts you a little later on asking if you got them so you send him a picture of you holding them and he responds “☹️ i was hoping you’d be in the pic but all i see are flowers”
notices the little things about you; like he’s the type to compliment your earrings or your nail color
thinks everything you do is like super great; like if you drew a little doodle on a post it note or something he's gonna keep it and in his phone case; like 100% the type to actually display a painting you did in his house even if you feel like it looks like an 8 year old did it
has a special hyper focus on you; i just imagine y'all being at a party and you're in a group and he's being hobi ya know chopping it up with everyone kekeing and the like and you could be there next to him but not really actively participating in the conversation but if you tried to slip away to like get a drink or whatever he would grab your wrist and licherally stop mid sentence to ask you where you were going; would leave the group to go do whatever you wanted to do as well
adds a bunch of heart emojis to your contact in his phone; [yn ❤️😍💜🥰💞😘💖🤩💓😚💘]
jimin:
buys you a scarf when it gets chilly bc he notices you never have one on and he doesn’t want you to catch a cold; personally wraps it around your neck himself before you go outside
perpetual flirt; like there's some kind of innuendo to everything he says to you
is able to pick up on your moods scary easily so he knows when you’re a bit off and lets you know he’s willing to listen if u wanna talk; whether you choose to take him up on his offer or not he gives a really big, tight, long hug which helps you out more than you’re willing to admit
is easily flustered by you; like if you told him you liked his hair or his sweater or something he's gonna do that thing he does where he looks down, smiles, and then hides his face
always trying to impress you; like if you told him you admired people who were good at art he finna brush up on his skills a little and then next time you see him he gon have a sketch pad in fron t of him doing some crazy doodles; or if you told him you liked his voice when you're around he'll be acting like he's being nonchalant playing it cool but be putting in mad effort humming one of your favorite songs adding in some jazmine sullivan type runs
tries to meet up with you as much as possible; like your presence is addicting to him and he wants to take in all that he can; definitely calls you at some point if he can't see you that day even if it's like 1am and you're definitely asleep he's gonna chance it and call you; "are you awake?" "no" "oh i'm sorry i'm sorry i just missed you today" "missed you too mini" "i bet you looked pretty" "thank you but you have to let me get back to sleep" "alright alright imma let you go but one more question" "what's up?" *starts giggling* "what are you wearing right now?😏" "😐 i'm hanging up" *giggles even harder* "okay okay i'm done i'm sorry for waking you sleep tight beautiful" "night mini"; and then he's awake for another hour and a half staring at the ceiling with a big smile on his face thinking about how much he likes you
always walks you to your door when he's dropping you off home and won't leave until you inside with the door closed even if you insist on seeing him off as well so you just gotta watch him walk off from the window
taehyung:
gets shy after complimenting you; the “you look really pretty today” to tata mic face pipeline is strong
goes out of his way to find out when you'll be at certain places and then acts like it's a coincidence when y'all run into each other
feels all tingly inside when you like something he recommended; like if he recommended you a song and you listened to it later and then texted him about how much you loved it you would not be able to wipe the grin off his face
he fishes for compliments from you; like will get all dolled up in his 3 piece suit, hair slicked back just bc he knows you’ll be around and wants you to tell him he looks nice; if you don’t initiate it he will; will stand next to you and be like “ahh i just felt like wearing this today, it’s my favorite one. i think it looks nice. doesn’t it?”
squishes your cheeks between his hands when he deems you as being too cute
takes an active interest in your interests; like if you were really into some group and you told him about it he'd go and listen to their songs and send you his favorites and if they ever toured he's definitely getting y'all tickets to their show; or if you really liked to do paper mache or something he's gonna set aside a day for you to show him how to do it
has his arm around the back of your chair when y’all sit next to each other bc he can’t work up the nerve to actually put his arm around you
jungkook:
walks so close to you that your hand bumps together with every step; takes about five minutes of contemplation and hand flinching before he takes your hand in his; probably puts your conjoined hands in his pocket; looks down at you for about five seconds to gauge your reaction but quickly looks away when you make eye contact; tips of his ears are red the whole time
invites you over to play with his dogs, literally; no funny business is happening; he can’t be with you like that when he likes you as much as he does not until y’all are official just so he has confirmation that you’re on the same page
he be staring at you; like whenever you not looking at him he’s looking at you; watching, observing, admiring, mentally cataloguing all your little quirks, stockpiling them for a rainy day (re: waiting for the right time he can jokingly imitate you)
sometimes it feels like it’s one step forward two steps back with him bc every time he reaches what he feels is “the next level” he has to stop and reevaluate his feelings so he gets distant; but when he’s sure of how he feels again he goes back to following behind you like a lil puppy
his crush on you gets fatter whenever y’all are in a group conversation bc you always notice when he’s trying to say something but can’t find the right timing and create an opening for him to speak
always sits next to you; like there could be 10 empty seats in a room and he's always gonna jam himself as close to you as possible even if he doesn't plan on saying anything
y'all would have a couple late night convenience store dates; like y'all would be on the phone at like midnight talking about how you're craving ramen and snacks and next thing you know he's offering to pick you up and then you sitting next to him in da local 7/11 wit a cup ramen, a diet coke, and some sour gummy worms; he'd lightly gasp and go stiff for a second before relaxing a bit if you randomly laid your head on his shoulder after you finished your food complaining about how full and tired you were; would go back and forth with himself over whether he should just wrap his arm around you but ultimately just decides on leaning his head against yours in return
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soraviie · 10 months
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being given a hickey.txt
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━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ navigation
━ about: fluff, some hints of angst and some suggestive hints
━  pictures taken from Pinterest
━ leave behind a comment and reblog or your every drink will always be at the wrong temperature
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NAMJOON | The evening crawls by slowly. The setting of the orange sun bathes the apartment in bright, warm light before it’s inevitably replaced by the overhead lights. You shuffle around in your peace, alternating between cooking and cleaning up the dishes and though there is a vague sound of demo song rolling from Namjoon’s home office, you ignore it at first, having been subjected to much of his releases over the years. However, once the TV show you’ve been passively watching becomes too boring to endure any longer, you paddle towards the closed doors. Namjoon sits slunken back into the chair, wearing a deeply etched frown upon his face. 
You poke a head into his makeshift studio, nose wrinkling at the smell of the stale air. 
“Hey, Namu,” you call out, an unassuming lilt to your voice. “You coming to bed?” 
He turns round, appearing a bit dazed as though he’d forgotten there was anything else outside the studio. You don't entirely put it past him. Namjoon takes a gander at you then at the small window facing the darkened outside, grimacing at the fall of the night. 
“Yeah,” he drags out tiredly. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Alright. I cooked some dinner. The leftovers are in the fridge if you want them.” 
Something about the sentence upsets him as the ends of his mouth draw downward and just a second after his hand beckons to come closer. You do so, slightly confused at the sudden request of proximity. Without saying anything, Namjoon wraps a hand around your lower waist, hoisting you up his lap, chair giving out a pitiful squeak underneath the combined weight. 
“It seems that I have neglected you tonight,” he mutters, voice falling dangerously low. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“It’s alright,” you brush off, trying not to stroke his ego too much. Your heart might still be fluttering as his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face but god help he did not need to get any more complacent. 
“It ain’t,” Namjoon shakes his head grimly. “Come here.” 
He leans in with dead set eyes and you close your own, wholly convinced on receiving a kiss on the mouth but instead you feel his plush lips press up against a point just below your jaw and the subsequent teasing scrape of his teeth. 
Your mouth falls open in a shuddery “oh” and Namjoon takes a deep inhale, smile noticeably curving against your slowly bruising skin. 
He pulls away, letting you — a bit dazed, a bit stupid — off his lap where you come to stand shakily on the carpet.
“Run along,” he chuckles somewhat insidiously, clearly taking some amusement in your befuddled state. You huff, flipping him off in the rising frustration but you both know it’s all without bite. 
YOONGI | “Yoongi—”
“Five more minutes.”
Briefly you think of arguing but sensing how despairingly his fingers dig into your sides, you relent with a heavy sigh on the lips and a complicit turn of the head. 
“Good,” you hear him hum appreciatively, vibrations rolling against the blackened column of your throat.
“What’s with you, old man? Mid life crisis?” you grouse but it is graciously ignored. A hefty scent of whiskey wafts from his greedy mouth as it’s pressed time and time again, teeth and all, against your skin. Figures that the grandpa has to be drunk to wrangle you so shamelessly. You sit perched on his lap, confined there by his arms, having nothing to stare at but each individual detail of the living room’s wallpaper. It’s soullessly grey —you’d whined to him about it needing to be changed. Suddenly a sharp pain flares against the muscle in your neck and you let your discontent be known. 
“Ow! Yoongi!”
Sinking your fingers into his hair, you pull harshly on the dark locks, instantly feeling some resistance. 
“Jus’ a bit more,” he mutters lowly, pulling you closer, impossibly closer, as any second now you swear you’d melt into one another. Finally with a wet pop, he unlatches himself away, wiping the remaining saliva with the sleeve of his jumper. Possessing a slight yet somewhat understandable tremor in the knees, you sit back on his calves, feeling the muscle grow taut underneath. 
“May I go now?” you inquire tiredly, recalling the bowl of batter that was forcefully abandoned on the kitchen counter. Yoongi looks up at you with hooded eyes and reflected in them is the whole mass of everything he felt but found too difficult to say out loud. And yet that just made you love him all the more. He seems to be enthralled by some deep passing thought and after a moment of consideration, there comes a clear answer. 
“No, I shouldn’t think so.”
JIN | At most it was ten minutes. What with the recipe being something so crude as "toss the eggs into a pan" one wouldn’t expect more than that but then again one wouldn’t expect the hump attached to your back. 
“You’re hampering with my breakfast,” you give a low hiss of warning but the sack only tightens his grubby hands around your waist. 
“‘s not that important,” he mutters into the crook of your neck, the motions leaving a wet imprint upon your chin. 
“Not that important,” you scoff. “You’re the one who woke me up saying you were hungry.”
“Not for food.”
You halt for a second. 
“Leave.”
“Always so cold-hearted,” Jin whines, voice falling quite offended as he fondles the flesh underneath his warm palm. “You know how many people would kill to be where you are?” 
“Then let them,” carelessly, you try to fight his grasp, having half the mind to just smack him with the spatula. “I want my fucking breakfast!”
“Me too!”
“Not like that!”
And then you feel it — unmistakable, intrusive — the literal biting sensation of his teeth meeting your neck. Your heart jumps in your throat and you hate the fact that even after all this time he has this much power over you. 
The spatula comes soon after. 
“OW!” in trying to evade the hit, Jin unclamps his jaws from your neck with a bothersome sound. Immediately, your hand darts to the sore spot, wiping off the saliva with perhaps too feigned of a disgust marring your features.
“No eggs for you,” you grumble but from the shit-eating grin lighting up his entire face, it’s not hard to guess that Jin didn’t give much of a shit. 
HOSEOK | Drowsily moving the toothbrush along the inside of your mouth through the haze of sleep you examine the hues of purple alongside your lower neck and shoulders. One particular mark piques your curiosity and after spitting out the toothpaste, you lean towards the mirror, poking a nail at the darkest of bruises, marveling at the dent reminiscent of moon’s sickle. 
“Good morning,” Hoseok’s gravelly voice can be heard in the doorway, before he enters the room, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your head. 
“What was with you yesterday?” you ask, hoping that the literal light of the morning will shed some insight on the proverbial dark. 
“What do you mean?” Hoseok furrows his brow but once you point at the formed bruises, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothes out. 
“Oh right,” you hear him whisper to himself before reaching into one of the closed cabinets. He quirks his head to the closed lid of the toilet and with a sigh, you sit down upon it, shivering slightly in the morning cold.
Hoseok misinterprets this and bids a quick though heartfelt apology.
“No, it’s not what I meant,” you rush to shake your head as Hoseok continues to slather the numbing cream onto your battered skin. “You just…I don’t know seemed somehow different yesterday.” 
His lips purse together in a thin line whilst his gaze traces the dark spots with a thoughtful glare. 
“I was in my head,” he finally admits somewhat sourly. “I was scared, you know, of you…forgetting me.”
“Oh, Hoseok…”
“No, don’t pity me,” he interrupts wearing an expression of hidden grief. “Just…don’t forget me.”
You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of such a plea. Like you ever could. 
“I won’t,” you promise, reaching to wrap your hand around his that was still applying some lotion. He gives a gentle smile hearing it, before letting out a demure chuckle. 
“And I promise to use my words instead of teeth.”
JIMIN | Because you so amicably ignored his first over-exaggerated huff of irritation, Jimin doubles down and after leaning up right next to your ear he takes a deep breath and then exhales with a loud noise of pointed discontent. 
“If you’re going to be annoying, why did you want to come along?” you try to pry him off your shoulder with a shrug of the shoulder but Jimin being Jimin remains one obstinate cuddle bug. 
“I thought you’d be quicker with it,” he whines, casting a damning glare towards the pair of joggers held in your hand as though they were the ones at blame. 
“Well, you’re not exactly of help here,” you remark in a hushed tone as a pair of giggling schoolgirls pass too near. “You just say everything looks good to make me leave quicker.”
“You do look good in everything!” he cries out with a pout chockful with objection and though you shush him, glimpsing nervously around if everyone’s watching too near, his voice drops in volume but not in its offended quality. “Even if it’s not your style,” he continues his point. 
“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you hiss, delivering an elbow to his ribs, eyes already scouring something good in the discount pile of the in-between season sales. Your heart goes out to the workers — it was a battlefield. 
“I’m hungry,” a voice whispers in the shell of your ear, prompting long lines of goosebumps despite you wholly knowing who it was.
“Then go eat.”
“How dare you! We eat together, that's a rule!”
“We’re not kindergarteners! I don’t need to hold your hand as you eat.”
“Speak for yourself,” bitterly, Jimin mutters underneath the breath before he gains a curious idea, one that warps his mouth into a sly smile. 
“Let’s go,” Jimin whines, leaning his full weight against your side. His lips come to nip at the side of your neck and you groan feeling the familiar sting of his impatient pecks. “Let’s go, I’ll buy you something tomorrow.”
“Ease up, Park,” you warn him, fruitlessly trying to shoo him away. The top of his hair itches the sides of your cheeks and you stifle the smile threatening to break out.
“Let’s gooooo.”
“Nooooo.”
He leans back, narrowing his eyes in a stormy expression before leaning in one final time - this one grasping a much larger area of the thin skin of your neck before passing it under his teeth. 
“OW!” you cry out, quickly reaching to cradle the sore spot. Right under the side of your jaw. You swat at him lightly, forming a pout yourself but imperiously, Jimin only turns up his nose, though the arc of his smile betrays him in the end. 
TAEHYUNG | “Your hand is sweaty.”
He immediately pulls away with a demure “sorry” under breath. 
“I didn’t mean “let go”,” you grouse.
Peeking at Taehyung from the corner of the eye — it’s unmistakable. The way his gaze flits from one passerby to the next, the rhythmical gnawing of his jaw — a futile way to expel stress — he was nervous. 
“Why are you worried?” you inquire gently, slowly moving through the bustle of the celebrating crowd. A national holiday — it was vain to hope you could get from point A to point B without much trouble. 
He mumbles something as an answer but it's too incoherent to make out. His eyes move with increasing speed, jumping hurriedly across the moving wall of strangers. 
“Let’s move to the side,” you urge and he complies easily with the pull of your hand, honestly appearing too overwhelmed to propose any sort of argument. You press him against the bricked up wall of the nearby cafe, forming a makeshift shield between him and the crowd at large. No one is paying any attention — the flowing bubbles, calls of the nearby vendors, the straying rays of warming sun — all of it is too much for anyone to cast their gaze to the side. You feel Taehyung’s fingers cautiously brush up against yours as if weighing on the thread between good and bad. You grip them back with ardent fervour and it’s not long before he slumps up against your back, head falling down into the crook of the neck.  
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbles. “I don’t know why so suddenly—”
“Don’t worry,” you hush him, inspecting the crowd for any straying interest though there is none. “Let’s head home and watch something good, alright?”
“I’m sorry,” he mutters miserably, his breath tickling along the side of your ear. “I ruined a good day.”
“It’s still a good day,” you correct him, patting the arm that by now has moved on to tightly gripping your waist. “Don’t worry about it.”
Still he lays an apologetic kiss to your nape and seconds after you feel a somewhat shy nip along your throat — it was a comforting tactic for him and recognizing it, you crane your head to allow more access. If anyone does notice you two lingering in the corner, the sight is too intimate to stare. Once the swarming crowd thins out of the main street, disappearing down the more picturesque river, you scrape gently down Taehyung’s scalp, rousing him from whatever zone of comfort he’d sunken into. The side of your neck aches from the force of his bites but you don’t remark upon it. Blearily, Taehyung blinks down at you, a relieved sigh tumbling from his lips as he looks out and sees the street empty.
“Let’s go home,” you urge him softly.   
JUNGKOOK | “Does it hurt?” he wonders, letting an inquisitive finger poke at the blossoming bruise. The flesh pales only to regain its full dark glory once the pressure grows lax. 
“A little,” you admit quietly, hearing just the end of a vague hum in reply. “Do you feel guilty over it?” 
Jungkook cocks his head to the side, admiring his “work” as his gaze drags ever so slowly upon each individual proof of his love. Or so he called them. 
“Not really.”
He gives a shameless smile and dives in once more. Even now your breath stutters when feeling the scrape of his front teeth against the sore flesh. Inescapably, he meets the seam of your shirt and with a displeased growl, he yanks it away, leaving you practically bare chested. 
You stare hazily into the ceiling of his apartment, listening with the ends of your ears to the soft music swirling the warm air. Jungkook’s curls itch at your nose which is a telltale sign —
“No, don’t,” you protest, giving his bicep a weak squeeze. “I’m tired of wearing turtlenecks.” 
Somewhere underneath the mop of unkempt hair there comes a disagreeing hum but resentfully he abides to your wishes, travelling lower and lower, the curve of his nose tip brushing against your collarbone. The last bite is particularly harsh, reminding either you or himself of who's whose. It is a fleeting moment of possession, one necessary to upkeep the balance thus you don’t mind it so. After a good chunk of an hour, Jungkook finally disconnects, leaning back into the cramped sofa with a grin of pure victory. It is however quickly wiped away as Bam decided to make two into three, propelling all of his adult Doberman weight on top of Jungkook's back.
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tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @sukunabitch; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett (I hope you don't mind)
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yoongiofmine · 11 months
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Oh, Angel! | JHS | ONESHOT
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Pair: Idol Jung Hoseok  x Baby Girl Reader 
Summary: Ever since he met you, Hoseok just couldn’t resist you. Even though you were off limits -many years younger than him and an intern on his sister’s company-, he just had to make you his. You were the perfect baby for him, docile and pliant. What happens when you decide to be a little brat instead?
Genre: Oneshot, fluff, so much smut.
Warnings: Porn with plot. Dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, BDSM undertones, Daddy kink, punishment and discipline, subspace, use of handcuffs and a flogger, all that good stuff. Hobi is kinda hard, but he's whipped and in love. Age gap (not specified).
WC: 16k.
[Membership] | [Main Masterlist] | [Daddy Collection Masterlist]
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Hoseok hadn’t been this busy in a very long time, but it was to be expected, really. With his new album coming out so soon, all of the promotion schedules he had to follow so it would be as successful as his previous ones, a solo concert in the works… There was a lot of boring shit that had to get done before he could actually relax and enjoy himself. 
All in all, he was very happy with the final look and sound of Jack In The Box, but he was also nervous. That project was so different from anything he had ever done before, he was finally about to show the world and his fans a darker side of him. It was a side that he always had, but not many people got to see it. 
Not many people were ready to accept it. 
God knows his company only allowed him to show his darkest persona because J-Hope was already a very popular name and he could bring in the numbers, even while trying something as different as this. 
“So you told us you wanted to film two music videos for your album, More and Arson?” one of HYBE’s producers was sitting on the side of the long table in the office room, while Hoseok was seated at the head of the table. “Based on the references you gave us, we created some mockups of the sets, and storyboards to show you. Which do you want to start with?” 
“Let’s do More first, please.” Hoseok nodded with a professional smile, sitting up straighter when a couple of the staff members brought mockup models of miniature rooms. 
Hoseok was shown what looked like a hospital room, a living room, a garage, an office; all spaces he had included in the briefing he filled out. It was always nice to see his ideas coming to life, even if he could already see a detail or two that had been interpreted a little differently from what he wanted. 
But they had time to fix–
The tiny buzz of his phone on the pocket of his pants was enough to break the focused gaze he had on the producer. Nodding his head to show that he was still listening, Hoseok pulled his personal phone out, just to check who was texting him. 
His heart did a somersault in his chest as he read the notification:
💕💋🌸Baby Girl sent you a message. Unlock to view. 
The triad of emojis always made him laugh, he still remembered you carefully picking each one of them when you finally changed his contact for you from your name to your title. 
For privacy reasons, Hoseok never allowed any of his notifications to show its contents on his screen, he’d have to unlock the device if he wanted to figure out what you wanted. In hindsight, he should wait until the end of the meeting. But what if it was urgent? You knew not to distract him when he was working and you above all people knew he was busy –you hadn’t been able to see each other for a little over a week for that very reason–. 
Besides, after this meeting was done, he had a RUN BTS episode to shoot and there’s no way he’d open your chat next to his nosey members. 
And he could admit it to himself that he missed you. 
So fucking much. 
More than he’d admit it even to yourself. 
“Hobi-ssi?” the call of his name made him look up from his phone, ears feeling a little hotter now that he realized people were waiting for him to answer a question he absolutely did not hear. 
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that, hyung-nim?” 
“Sorry, I said we have some locations in mind that we’d like to show you, and what we think we could do with it.” the man repeated and Hoseok was already nodding. 
“Please, show me, sure.” 
Now, Hoseok did try focusing on the slide show being shown on the television across from him, he did attempt to find empty square rooms and warehouses interesting. But his phone buzzed a couple more times and he just couldn’t ignore it any longer. 
Hoseok dimmed the brightness of his screen and sat back against his chair, spreading his legs so he could hide the phone between them and under the waxed mahogany table. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Daddy. 
Before he even got to the following text messages, Hoseok’s blood already felt hot in his veins. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Guess what I’m doing! 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: I’ll give you a hint: 🛍️ 
Hoseok: I don’t know what you’re doing, baby, but I’m at work rn. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: I’m shopping! 
Hoseok: Shouldn’t you be at work right now too? 🤨
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: I’m at my lunch break right now, duh. I was feeling sad, so I came to the mall :( 
Now, this would be a great time for Hoseok to wish you a good day, remind you to eat before your break was over and get back to the slides being explained to him. But you said you were sad. Hoseok never wanted you to be sad. 
Hoseok: Why are you sad, baby? 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Because I miss you :( 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: So much. Daddy is being mean. 
Hoseok: I’m not being mean, I’m just busy. I’ll see you during the weekend, you know that. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: That’s three days away!! :(((( Wanna see you now. 
Hoseok: Don’t start that, you know I can’t. 
Hoseok: Do you still have that credit card I gave you? 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: I do. 
Hoseok: Use it to buy yourself whatever you want, so you’re not sad anymore. How about that? 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Thank you, daddy! 
Hoseok: And eat. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Okaaaay. 🙄
Hoseok: Don’t give me that attitude now. Send me a picture to prove you had a healthy meal. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: And it has to be healthy too?? 
Hoseok: Yes. 
Hoseok bit down a laugh, imagining your little petulant pout and roll of your eyes as you hated it when he made you eat healthy. And he didn’t even mean a salad or some shit like that, he just didn’t think you should live off of instant noodles and dumplings. 
He knew he was playing with fire when it came to you, and not because he was texting you while in the middle of a meeting. Your relationship… If he could even call it that, was less than ideal. 
You were a great deal younger than him, younger than Jungkook even, which was usually where he drew the line. Fresh out of university, he met you when you had just started your first job. Not even a job, but an internship in your field of studies. It would have been fine, too, Hoseok wasn’t big headed enough to only get involved with famous people. 
If anything, he preferred that you were unknown, that came less drama when hooking up with anonymous people. 
But your internship was at MEJIWOO. The clothing brand that was founded and owned by his sister. 
T H E N 
As far as he knew, you met his older sister when Jiwoo needed a pretty girl to model her clothes. You just had to be in a few pictures for the website and to post ON Instagram, but you showed so much efficiency and passion –and the fact you were a fashion design graduate student– that you ended up being hired as an intern for the brand. 
Hoseok didn’t really have the habit of visiting his sister at work, or at all, a fact Jiwoo very much nagged him about. But, on a fateful day, he did. And that’s when he met you for the first time. 
At least ten women worked alongside his sister, but you were the first one to ever catch his eye. Not only because he had never seen you in the office before, not even because Jiwoo introduced you to him as this angel that came into her life when she wasn’t expecting. 
You were just something else. 
First of all, you were so damn shy you could barely look him in the eye for the first several minutes you were in the same room together. You were shorter than him, obviously younger, too, as you had this youthful sparkle about you; the world clearly hadn’t had its hands on you yet. 
Your eyes were filled with innocent wonder, your pastel colored clothes made you seem innocent. An angel, like Jiwoo said; someone perfectly crafted for a man like Hoseok to ruin. 
Jiwoo didn’t know it at the time, or she wouldn’t have introduced the two of you. She wouldn’t even have left you alone together as she had to take a call from one of the textile suppliers. Not that Hoseok would just jump you, he had more class than that. Nothing even happened during that first meeting, but it was enough to engrave you into his brain. 
He couldn’t stop thinking about your dulcet voice that sounded like melted caramel, or how small your hands were when you served him a cup of coffee, or how sweet you were when you warned him the mug was hot; as if he couldn’t see the steam blowing out. 
You were so damn pretty, but not in the obvious, carefully produced idol-way he was used to. There was nothing unnatural about you, everything you had, you were born with and he could appreciate unadulterated beauty. 
It was safe to assume that Hoseok kept coming back to visit his sister at work, with so many excuses that she would surely suspect something was up sooner than later. But the thing was, there was something about you that Jiwoo didn’t know about. Something Hoseok wasn’t supposed to notice either, but he did. 
The first time he saw it, he chucked it off to a fashion choice. A personal preference. And for what he could see, during his impromptu visits to your workplace, you didn’t wear it everyday either. 
But the days that you did wear it were the days you were a little more jittery than usual, a little more stressed, that’s how he knew. The delicate silver chain you wore around your neck was what tipped him off; unassuming for anyone that didn’t know the lifestyle, just a thin necklace that sat snug against your throat, with a sterling circle in the middle. 
A subtle day collar for a submissive. 
As if you needed to be any more perfect for him. 
Still, he couldn’t just assume, taking a risk as it was just the two of you inside Jiwoo’s main office, as you served him an iced tea instead of coffee this time, with a meek:
“It’s quite hot today and this tea is pretty popular with everyone in the office.” you had told him then, no longer scared of looking him in the eye. “I added sugar, though, because I thought you might like sweet things.” 
It should be shameful the way Hoseok’s lips moved slowly as he praised: “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” 
You let out the tiniest gasp, freezing on the spot as the air inside the office became charged. Hoseok was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. And he knew when people were attracted to him, there were just so many times you could leave your post to spend a few minutes with him whenever he came over to visit, and serving drinks wasn’t in your list of tasks. 
You also weren’t as subtle as you thought you were, often staring at his lips when he spoke, or your eyes moved to his fingers and stayed there for a beat too long. 
“You were correct, don’t worry.” he had smiled at you in hopes of soothing your nerves. His right hand reached out to the thin silver necklace around your throat, giving the circle a teeny tug with his pointer finger. And the whine that you tried to muffle was the best music to his ears. “I love sweet things.” 
Your pretty eyes were round and there were lines of confusion between your brows. Your lips were slightly parted and covered in a pink gloss that he was dying to taste. The idol had never felt like this for anybody else before you, this want that made him ignore the voice in his head yelling about how much of a bad idea this was. You were driving him crazy and you had no idea.  
Hoseok was already risking a lot more than he should, there was no way he would be able to keep coming back to his sister’s office, he was running out of excuses. And ‘I desperately want to fuck your newest intern’ wouldn’t be taken in such a positive light. He could also leave you incredibly offended with his next words, but he mumbled them anyway: 
“Do you already belong to anyone, angel?” 
Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard, the prettiest blush covering your cheeks. You knew exactly what he was asking, exactly what he meant. “I don’t. Not yet.” 
“Are you looking for a–” 
His question was interrupted when Jiwoo rushed back into her office apologizing to Hoseok for being so busy and asking you to check the status of a delivery she had been waiting for. You escaped through his grasp and Hoseok was sure he missed his chance. 
But then, just as he was leaving after having to sit through a very painful conversation about fashion cycles and marketing opportunities in China, you hurried to catch up with him and your boss as they waited for the elevator to arrive. 
“Excuse, Hoseok-ssi.” you were out of breath and bowing as you handed him a small magazine. “Here’s our latest catalog. The one you asked to see.” 
Excitement bubbled on Hoseok’s stomach as he could take a hint when he needed to. He thanked you with a bow in return and hugged his sister goodbye. In the safety and solitude of the elevator, Hoseok wooshed through the pages of the catalog, finding a note scribbled with a pink gel pen:
‘This is my number. If you’re interested. xx’
N O W 
It’s been six months. 
Hoseok had fucked you more times than he could count, the two of you had been so close to getting caught —by his sister, by his members, by the public– and he couldn’t give you up. Not when you were more than he was expecting, a one night stand that turned into more than he had bargained for. 
You went from being a nice fuck to someone Hoseok couldn’t give up. Only two weeks after you slept together for the first time –and second and third times–, he asked to be your Dom. 
It started as a mutually beneficial agreement, where the two of you would meet up whenever you were both free and in the mood. It was supposed to be about sex, just two adults that were surprisingly compatible in bed. 
But you just had to be incredibly smart, able to hold a conversation with him –when pillowtalk wasn’t even in his list of interests–, you were also sweeter than he thought, slightly naive, trusting and kind, which was the perfect recipe for Hoseok to become extremely protective of you. 
Your relationship evolved into exactly that, him taking care of you in more ways than one, just like you did to him. 
You were patient with him when he was stressed about his album, you came over to his studio with snacks just because you knew he could go hours without remembering to even drink a sip of water, you allowed him to take out his frustrations on you, leaving behind handprints and bite marks as proof. 
He was good to you in more ways than he thought he could, too; Hoseok listened to your worries and assured you your fears and anxieties about your future were all in your head, he paid off the rest of student debts just so you could have a little less weight on your shoulders, he was there for you when you just wanted to not think for a while. 
Hoseok was someone you could count and depend on. And you were the only person he wasn’t afraid of showing his true self to. You were accepting of all sides of him, the good and the ugly. And, sometimes, Hoseok thought you might love them too. 
Whether or not he had caught unrequited feelings for you along the way, he wasn’t quite ready to admit just yet. 
It was about thirty minutes later that his phone buzzed again, after decisions had been made about both music videos he was planning on filming and releasing. Yet, there was so much more that had to be looked over; from make-up looks, to outfit changes and how many extras they would need to hire. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl sent you an attachment. Unlock to view. 
The man stopped listening to the head of the makeup department as she was in the middle of explaining to him how her team could create burn effects to make it look like his skin was peeling off. 
You sent him a picture and Hoseok was quick to assume it would be an artsy shot of your food, the proof you were eating well. He was praising you in his head already, as he so carelessly unlocked his phone and clicked on the notification to see–
“Fuck–” 
Hoseok cursed under his breath as he saw a picture of you in what clearly looked like the changing room of a lingerie store, based on what you were wearing. The fancy kind, too, if the champagne flute in the corner of the shot was anything to go by. 
At least you were making good use of the credit card he had given you. 
It was hard to pry his eyes away from you, as what you were wearing left nothing to the imagination. It was a flimsy two piece, pink set that was made of transparent mesh and nothing else. He could see your nipples darkening the material of the bra, the little bow in the front of the panties, the soft curves of smooth skin on your perfect body. 
Plump breasts slightly pushed out by the position of your arms, hips jutted out letting him kind of see the supple curve of your ass. 
Your face was in frame, too, bottom lip worried between your teeth and the same innocent eyes that had entrapped him. No matter how many times he told you to hide your face, just so you’d be safe. You never listened, assuring him you trusted him. It wasn’t his morals that he feared, but the very real possibility of something leaking, just because of who he was. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl sent you an attachment. Loading…
Hoseok’s chest was expanding with his heavy breaths, cock starting to twitch inside his pants. He couldn’t do this right now, his staff had taken time out of their busy schedules in order to put up this presentation for him and he had no idea what they were even talking about anymore. 
It didn’t help that when the file you sent finished loading, the idol realized it was a fucking video. 
Hoseok: Baby, what are you doing? 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Just showing you what I’m buying! Do you not like it? 
Hoseok: I like it, but you can’t do this to me right now, I’m in the middle of a meeting. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: You didn’t answer me. Does it?
Hoseok: Yes I did, I said I like it. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Not the text, didn’t you open the video, daddy? 
Hoseok: Baby girl, I’m warning you to behave. 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: Well, I don’t feel like behaving right now. 
Hoseok: Is that so? 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: I’m not seeing you anytime soon
Hoseok: So you think that means you get to act like a brat? 
💕💋🌸Baby Girl: You can’t do anything about it anyway. 
Most of the time you were a good girl for him. Pliant, obedient, the perfect little sub for him. That didn’t mean you didn’t act out every now and then, that you didn’t behave like a spoiled brat to get what you wanted. Hoseok understood it, too, as it was your way of getting back at him for being too busy, for neglecting you. 
He couldn’t deny that it was exciting for him too, it gave him the chance to discipline you accordingly. 
Hoseok really shouldn’t fucking open the video you sent him, but he was so weak for you. With a heavy sigh, he looked up to where the staff and producers were discussing amongst themselves, likely believing that if Hoseok was to disagree he’d join the conversation. 
Shuffling through the few contents of his pocket, the idol easily found the earbud case and took one one out, popping it in his ear as he waited for the small beeping sound to let him know the bluetooth connected fully. 
His hand was still holding his phone under the table as his thumb pressed play. 
Your phone was propped up somewhere, at the level of your hips, so you didn’t need to keep holding it. The video started with a closeup shot of your tits as you pressed record, and then you took a couple steps back to show him the same pink set of the picture. 
He should really get you a new phone, with a higher definition on the front camera, but he could still see you perfectly. Stunning as always, mischievous as can me. 
“Hi, daddy.” you told him, uncaring of who might hear you outside of the changing room. As you spoke, you moved this way and that to show him how the lingerie hugged your curves. “I’m thinking of buying this, what do you think? You know you’ll be the only one to see me in it.”
You knew what you were doing, clearly, playing his possessiveness over you. And you were right. Although you weren’t together, you were exclusive. He was your Dom. You belonged to him. 
You walked a little closer to the camera, turning around so he could see your backside, ass cheeks swallowing the tiny pink bottom. Hoseok’s breathing was chopped as your small fingers hooked on the sides of the underwear and he really wanted you to pull it down, bend over and spread. 
Instead, you pulled it up a couple of times, making the thin band get stuck just a little more into your ass, plump and perfectly round cheeks jiggling with the movement. You were a fucking work of art, nice ass and hips, merging into a narrow and delicate waist. He could devour you whole, and his hardening cock most definitely agreed. 
“Does it make you wanna fuck me, daddy?” your voice was whiny and breathy. “My ass doesn’t have your prints anymore, I miss you so much.” you turned around then, taking the phone in your hand and aiming it to your face and tits. “I miss choking on your big cock. Wish you were with me. I’d be on my knees for you, would you like that?” 
That was as far as he could go, clicking out of the video as his baggy pants suddenly felt surprisingly tight and his brain was sluggish with the thoughts of you. Your mouth that belonged around his cock, your perfect ass that he loved to spank until it was read. You kept saying you missed him and that was a sentiment he could very much agree on. 
He missed everything about you. From your body to your giggles and smart mouth. You had plans to spend the weekend together, when you came over to his apartment, but now he wasn’t sure if he could wait three days for that either. 
Hoseok: You’re in trouble now, baby girl. 
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Some girls at the office definitely thought you had it easy. 
Surely, for an intern, you did get put in too many projects and you had the opportunity to be in meetings and go to events with your boss that some of them didn't, but that was a result of your hard work and nothing else. 
They didn't see the many nights you stayed in the office until after hours to help Jiwoo meet her deadlines, they weren’t there when you came over early to make sure the office was spotless for when the possible investors came over for meetings. 
All they saw was a young girl desperate to be the boss' favorite. It wasn't completely a lie, you did like Jiwoo very much, but you didn't kiss her ass as most of them thought you did. 
Today had been a particularly draining day, which is why you ended up at the mall during your lunch break, refusing to stay near Mina and Seulgi as they gossiped in the break room, making a point to exclude you from their conversation. 
It was with cloudy thoughts and heavy bones that you unlocked the door of your apartment, kicking your shoes off at the small entrance. You didn't remember leaving the living room light on as you left this morning, cursing yourself at the unnecessary added cost to your energy bill. 
When you crossed the threshold properly was when you saw him, the very handsome man seated on your couch. Hoseok looked like he belonged there, like he owned everything in the room, including you. 
"Seok–" you breathed out your surprise, dropping your shopping bags and your purse on the small side table at the entrance of the living room. 
"Surprise." he smiled sweetly, getting up from his spot and letting you bury yourself in his chest. 
"What are you doing here?" your arms were around his middle as his chin rested on top of your head. 
"You said you missed me." he shrugged, a movement you felt under your cheek. "Everything okay?" 
"Mhm, just a long day." you assured him.
It should be surprising how your body instantly started to relax just from being in Hoseok’s presence. Your muscles were loosening, your thoughts began slowing down. But it came as no surprise at all, this was always the reaction he caused on you. You didn’t know if it could be explained who Hoseok was to you, or by the not-so-tiny feelings you harbored for him. 
Having Jung Hoseok in your living room, after letting himself in with the spare key you gave him for emergencies, wasn’t something you ever thought you’d get; not a year ago when you started working for his sister, not now. Even though you had at this point, many times. 
He was studying you intently, you noticed, knowing damn well he'd be able to tell if anything was going on. He knew when you were upset, he knew when you were nervous about work, he knew when you were excited, he knew when you missed home. 
Tonight, you hoped he saw how much you actually did miss him. You could see it on him right back, how he missed you, too.
“Did you eat, baby?” his hand touched the side of your face, lifting it so he could look at you properly. Read it in your eyes if you decided to lie. 
“Oh, shit.” you gasped, brows furrowing. 
“Yn.”
The stern way in which he called your name made your heart rate skyrocket. Not because you feared him, but because you hated to disappoint him. 
Having someone pay close attention to your meals, to the point of asking for proof, could be considered a red flag. But this was Hoseok. The only red things about him were his lips once you kissed him hard enough, and the color of his heart.
He didn’t ask about it to be controlling, even if he could, based on the nature of your relationship. But you had a genetic condition –thanks, Eomma– that made you prone to low blood pressure. It never stopped you from living your life and most of the time you forgot about it, which sometimes got you in trouble. 
You could get dizzy, feel weak, get horrible headaches, nausea and during more extreme crises, you could faint. It was safe to assume that when Hoseok learned this about you, he took it upon himself to make sure you looked after yourself better. 
It didn’t always work out, which is why he was looking at you with hard eyes and a reprimanding pull on his lips. All you could do was stare at the little mole he had on his upper lip as you tried to explain:
“No, I– I did.” you assured him, hand resting on his forearm and giving it a light squeeze. “Sun-he brought sandwiches to the office, so everyone ate, but I forgot to send you the picture, I'm sorry.”
“That's okay, as long as you ate.” Hoseok let go of a small sigh of relief, thumb caressing your cheekbone. “Are you hungry now?”
You answered him with a little shrug. 
Something wasn't right with you, Hoseok noticed as soon as you stepped into your home, which immediately halted the plans he had for you tonight. 
His punishment for the little stunt you pulled this afternoon would have to wait. 
Your shoulders were down in a slump, you kept rolling your neck in small twists as if trying to release the tension in your muscles, your eyes were starting to glaze over and your lips were forming that natural pout he loved to kiss. 
Hoseok knew you didn't always have it easy at work with people constantly undermining you, being so young in such a cutthroat work field meant it was easy for you to be put into highly stressful situations and be expected to deal with it. 
Jiwoo would never treat you unfairly, he knew his sister appreciated you and took you under her wing, treating you as her own pupil. But that also put a target on your back when it came to the other workers in the office. He knew about it because you confided in him, but you refused to bring it to his sister’s attention. 
He understood it, too, you didn't want to cause trouble or animosity at the office, despite him telling you over and over again that his sister would listen. 
Hoseok oftentimes thought about saying something to Jiwoo himself, but fearing the questions that would follow, and not wanting to make his sister even more suspicious, he never did. 
"Not wearing your collar today?" he asked you quietly, the back of his fingers touching the side of your neck, making you lean into his touch. 
Your day-collar was what made him make the first move on you all those months ago, but back then he didn't know all that it meant to you. 
He saw it as a way for you to display a side of your personality that would only be interpreted by the community you were both into, but it ran a lot deeper than that. 
To you, in a way, it was a safety blanket. It had the power to ground you, to center you, and help you find a balance. It brought you comfort, a sense of stability. 
You had confessed to him that it started meaning a lot more once he became your Dom, as it served as a reminder of him. 
“Didn't think I'd need it today, so I left it at home.” you explained, the hand that wasn’t touching him raised to touch your own throat, likely feeling the absence of your collar around it. “Besides, I think Seulgi is starting to realize what it is.”
“How come?” Hoseok frowned. He never did like Seulgi and her nosy ass. 
“She watched a movie, so they were talking about BDSM in the break room.” you explained, lips turned into a grimace, eyes dropping from his. 
“Did that make you uncomfortable?” 
You shrugged again before replying: “I just hate how there's a lot of wrong information out there, especially in movies. They just exaggerate everything.”
“I know. But you’re home now.” Hoseok tried to stir the conversation away, you were clearly stressed and talking about everything that was wrong and dangerous about that wouldn’t help. His touch was gentle as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “You can put it on if you want to.”
“How long will you stay?” you already sounded so small, Hoseok hated himself for being so busy lately. He knew it wasn’t his choice, but he never liked the feeling that he had been neglecting you in any way. 
"As long as you need me to." he meant it, but there was still hesitation in your posture. You knew he shouldn't even be here tonight in the first place, and now you were needing him to stay. "Go take a shower and relax, then you can pick out a collar and I'll take care of you. I ordered some food that must be getting delivered any time now. Sounds good?"
"Yeah, very good. Thank you." 
You raised on your feet to press your lips to the corner of his mouth and it would be so easy to hold you there, turn his face and kiss you properly. God knows he wanted to. You kept running leaps on Hoseok’s mind all day, he watched the little video you sent him over and over again, palming himself over his pants more times than he’d like to admit. 
Touching himself to pictures and videos of you, while locked inside HopeWorld, wasn’t a rare feature. But he had made the conscious decision to come over tonight, so he didn’t pull his cock out, did chase that relief that wouldn’t feel as good as it would if he was with you. 
So he waited. 
And he’d wait even more, if you weren’t in the mood later. Just taking care of you, in any way he could, was enough to make Hoseok happy. 
Your arrangement was a lot less about dominating someone, making them bend to his every will, and a lot more about helping them feel free. 
Every Dom/sub relationship had intricacies that made them unique, what worked for him might not work for others and vice versa. That's one of the things that drew him so much to you at the beginning; how the two of you seemingly wanted the same things. 
You wanted that safety net, you wanted to rely on someone else to take care of you when you had to be independent and take care of yourself in every other aspect of your life. 
And Hoseok wanted to feel needed in more ways than just desired. Yes the base of your relationship was sexual, but that's not all it was. As your Dom, his role was to lead, guide, protect and take care of you, besides enforce, discipline and exercise his control over you. 
For you, it was about relinquishing that control, surrendering to him completely. 
It was the power play that attracted him to the lifestyle in the first place, the blind trust you had to put on him in order to be so vulnerable, in order to give yourself to him.
But Hoseok knew that there was a lot more to it than wanting to hold the power in your relationship. He’d had many talks about this with Namjoon, where the leader told him about articles he read where D/s relationships –when done right and with consent– were psychologically beneficial to the participants, some even might use it as a form of therapy. 
Of course Namjoon didn't know Hoseok was in that kind of relationship with someone by the time of their talk, so Hoseok wondered if he brought it up for his sake or if his best friend was looking into getting a submissive of his own. 
A couple of minutes after he heard the shower turning on in your bedroom, the intercom rang in your small kitchen to let him know the food he ordered was being delivered. He didn’t like people coming up to your doorstep, so Hoseok went to the lobby of the building to pay for it and bring it up himself. 
You were still washing up as he took the food out of the to-go containers and put them onto plates, filling up glasses of orange juice and placing everything in the counter, by the two stalls on the opposite side. 
Hoseok knew where everything in your apartment was, from the many times he had been over. Not only that, he could see parts of himself in your space too; from the colorful flower cushion on your couch that you liked so much he let you take it from his studio and keep it, the polaroid shots stuck to your fridge that he had taken with his camera –even if none of them had either of you in the frame–, the Mang hairband on the little dish by your door, which you had bought yourself and excitedly sent him a picture of. 
He knew when he walked into your bathroom, he’d see a black toothbrush next to your green one, a half empty bottle of his favorite cologne on the counter, and an extra clean towel hanging by the shower, just in case. 
It was the little things that really got to him, made him wonder if you were slowly walking into something more. Sometimes he questioned if you were already more, but the two of you were too afraid to ask the other about it. 
“Oh, what smells so good?” 
You were padding out of your bedroom to find Hoseok in your kitchen. He wasn’t really doing anything, just waiting for you to join him while lost in his own head. Your voice broke him out of his trance and he smiled at you, which only grew when he saw you wearing one of the shirts he ‘accidentally’ left behind. 
“I think that’s you, baby.” he grinned, knowing you’d either tease him about being cheesy or squirm. 
“Stop it.” you giggled, avoiding his eyes as you stretched your arm with your palm up, the collar you picked sitting prettily on it. “I’m two seconds away from slipping, if you keep talking to me like that I’ll go non-verbal on your ass.” 
Hoseok laughed in that delicious way of his, head tilting back as he took the collar from your hand. It was rare for you to slip into a subspace so deep you forgot how to use your words, but it did happen every now and then; when you were under a lot of stress or extremely tired. 
“It’s okay if you do.” he assured you, fingers holding onto the fabric of your shirt to pull you closer to his body. “You know I’ll take care of you. You trust me, don’t you? Will you surrender yourself to me?”
Hoseok’s voice was like a current dragging you deeper and deeper, lulling you like the sweetest lullaby. Your muscles were relaxed after your scorching hot shower and your brain had started to quiet just because you knew Hoseok was in your home. Surrendering to him would hardly be a challenge as there was nothing else you wanted more. 
“Yes.” it sounded so close to a whimper that your cheeks heated. 
“Yes, what, baby girl?” Hoseok probed, lifting your chin and pushing your hair away from your shoulders and neck. 
“Yes, daddy.” you repeated with so much conviction the man hummed in appreciation. 
“Always a good girl for me.” he praised, knowing what it did to you. Searching for the clasp of your collar, he asked: “Can I put it on you?”
You nodded and squared your shoulders and stretched your neck, as if that would make his job easier. You were just so cute presenting yourself, allowing him to put the collar around your neck. You had no idea what it did to him, surely. Hoseok was your Dom, but you were the powerful one in this relationship. This agreement. 
Your choice for today was a delicate gold band, a bit firmer than your usual day-collars. Hoseok put it around your neck and used the little heart-shaped padlock to lock it into place, slipping the tiny key that opened it on the front pocket of his pants for safe keeping. 
“You picked such a pretty one today.” Hoseok praised again, studying your face, wanting to read your every reaction to his words, to his touches. “Almost as pretty as you.” 
“Thank you.” you softly beamed, nibbling on your bottom lip. “It’s my favorite one.” 
“Why is that?” 
Hoseok asked, but you knew he already had that answer. It was your favorite because it was the first collar he had ever given you. It was too fancy for you to wear everyday, and the lock on the front –albeit small– was a dead giveaway that it wasn’t just a fashionable choker. 
Still, your Dom didn’t like it when he asked you a question and you didn’t answer, which is why you croaked out: 
“My daddy gave it to me.” 
That seemed to appease Hoseok, as he smiled proudly before taking you to the tall benches by your kitchen island. You ate the dinner he ordered side by side, with a light conversation where he told you about the meetings he had all day, and how he found out his MTBI is INFJ after a RUN BTS episode he filmed earlier in the day. 
You loved how passionate Hoseok was about his work; solo or related to his group. He always worked so hard, often helping his members with their own projects too. You almost felt bad for teasing him with the text messages and the video you sent. 
Almost being the keyword. 
Because you didn’t think he’d be at your side right now if you hadn’t. 
Hoseok always made sure you ate all your food and drank the full glass of whatever he poured you, even when you tried to be picky and sneak the greens you didn’t quite like to the side of your plate. At least having a full belly meant you were a lot more like yourself, albeit sluggish and a little lazy. 
After the two of you were well fed, Hoseok asked if you wanted to watch a movie, but you didn’t really feel like focusing on much, telling him he could watch anything he wanted and you’d be perfectly fine with just being held. 
That’s how you ended up making out on your couch. 
Hoseok was sitting in the middle of your couch, spread legs as you straddled his hips, one knee on each side of him. His head was resting against the back of the couch as you leaned over him to kiss him. 
Kissing Hoseok was one of your favorite things in life, making you sigh as your lips slowly dragged over each other’s, his tongue lazily pushing inside your mouth to chase yours. His big hands were dragging up and down your thighs, squeezing your soft flesh, making you more than a little hot and bothered. 
Hoseok’s tongue was swirling over yours, licking all over your mouth in practiced moves that were making you pant and moan against his lips, heart-shaped mouth breaking into a smug smirk when you rocked your hips on top of his. 
When he pulled you onto his lap, you were happy to just kiss him for a while, not planning on keeping him in your apartment for much longer, knowing he had schedules early in the morning. But you were going a little crazy, drunk on his kisses, mind growing fuzzy when his hands slipped under your shirt –his shirt– to hold your hips with a firm grip. 
“My baby girl is getting needy, huh?” he teased, as if you couldn’t feel his hard cock each time you swivel your hips on top of him. 
“Always needy for you.” you whined, noise turning into a dragged moan as strong hands adjusted you on his lap so that your core could drag against the length of his bulge. “Oh, fuck.” 
Hoseok’s hands helped you move back and forth, rolling your hips on top of him to drag your pussy over his cock. The feeling of the harsh material of his pants was scratching your thighs, which was starting to get a little uncomfortable, but your pussy was throbbing too much for you to really care that much. 
Your lips dragged over Hoseok’s jaw as you kissed the sharp lines, making your way to his ear. You sucked his lobe into your mouth, breathing heavily and feeling his skin prickle with goosebumps under you. 
“Daddy,” you cried, letting go of his ear to kiss the column of his throat. You were mindful to not leave any marks behind, sucking on his skin softly enough not to bruise. “Do you wanna see what I bought?” 
Your Dom’s chuckle sounded like a scoff, making you pull away from his neck to sit up and look at him. Your hands were on his chest as his hands still palmed your ass. 
“You mean what I bought?” his smirk was sharp and challenging. “I got the notification on my phone, baby girl. It was an expensive little set you got, huh?” 
“I thought you liked it.” you blinked at him through your lashes, knowing the six figures would hardly make a dent on his bank account. “You said you liked it, daddy.” 
“Mhmm. I did.” he nodded, the tip of his wet tongue licking between his lips. “Was that pink set all you got?” 
“No.” you admitted sheepishly, with a sly glint in your eyes that made Hoseok’s cock jump in his pants. “There’s one more thing, which was a little more expensive than the set.” 
“What a spoiled little baby I have, huh?” his hands kept running up and down your thighs, all the way to your plump ass, then all the way back down. 
Hoseok was happy to see you were feeling better, playful even. The stress of your day –and his– having left the two of you completely after a few kisses. You looked so perfect on top of him like this, his sweet baby girl that looked so innocent, but who was capable of wicked things. 
He knew you were wearing the set you showed him this early afternoon, he had felt the scratch of the mesh material on the pads of his fingers as he touched you. And if watching a video of you on it was able to get him hard in a meeting room full of staff, his erection was borderline painful as he thought about seeing the real thing. 
“Won’t you show it to me, then?” it took great effort for Hoseok’s hands to leave you, dropping to his sides as he watched you with a raised brow and crooked head. “Let me see it, baby.” 
“It’s really cute, daddy.” 
You were nibbling on your bottom lip, eyes glossy, almost teary. Your cheeks had the prettiest blush and your chest rose and fell slowly with your heavy breaths. Your small hands held onto the hem of his shirt on your body and you lifted it so torturously slow that Hoseok had to control himself not to tear the fabric off of you himself. 
His eyes were glued to each new strip of smooth skin that was revealed to his eyes. Starting with the apex of your thighs that made way to the light pink panties that were so small it could barely cover your perfect little pussy. It was a lot more transparent in real life than in the video, he could see you perfectly. The thin material allowed him to see how wet you were, lips glistening slightly where your position allowed him to peek. 
“Go on, baby girl.” he urged you, planting his feet firmly on the floor to not rock his hips up into yours. 
“Won’t you even say please? Where are your manners, daddy?” you defied, hands perfectly still as you held the shirt where it was, just above the waistband of the panties. 
“Oh, you wanna be funny?” Hoseok chuckled, dark and menacing. 
“No.” you shrugged and one corner of your lips raised. “Just think it’s unfair that you’re always telling me to say please and thank you, and you never say them–” 
Hoseok didn’t let you finish talking back to him, a hand taking hold of the back of your neck, fingers slipping into the hair on the nape and pulling hard. You moaned shamelessly, eyes closing shut as he pulled your head back, mouth pressing against your cheek as he warned: “You better remember your fucking place.” 
“And what place is that, daddy?” 
“Wherever I fucking want it to be.” his lips dragged over the skin of your neck, tongue swiping to taste the metal of your collar, continuing down to the junction of where your neck met shoulder. “Keep that in mind if you want to be allowed to cum at all tonight.” 
You were breathing hard. 
You loved it when Hoseok talked to you like this, when he put you in your place, reminded you he was the one in charge. It was surprisingly relaxing and deliciously mind numbing, to know he would take care of you, make decisions for you for a little while. You could shut off your brain and just be. 
You liked to tease him and fight him for control just enough to rile him up, to get him in the mood and remind him that he could be rough with you, because you liked it. You could take it.
You were ready to play, you were ready for him to treat you like the little sub that you were; only for him. 
“I’m sorry, daddy.” you weren’t, and he knew that. But he’d play along for as long as you did. “I’ll be good.”
“Don’t keep me waiting.” his hand slipped out from your hair, your scalp was still stinging when he did so. 
Hoseok might not be ready to admit he was in love with you, but he did love it when you got like this. A little devil in disguise, a brat behind sweet smiles and tearful eyes. He especially loved knowing you could take everything he was ready to give you. 
He leaned back against the couch once more, eyes returning to your midriff as he didn’t want to miss a single second of your big reveal. He didn’t know what the extra purchase you made could be, since, if you were wearing something like a garter belt he would have felt it already. 
You continued to lift your shirt, showing him your wide hips that dipped into your waist, the smooth plane of your soft stomach, cute belly button, and then–
The very expensive kind of sparkle caught his eye. 
Your bottom lip was worried between your bottom lip and you looked almost concerned as his eyes flitted to your face questioningly. A if he’d ever complain about how much you spent on his credit card. 
“Go on, baby, let me see.” he chided, hands no longer at his sides, but resting on the dips of your hips. 
You lifted the shirt up to the level of your ribs, showing off the body chain around your cinched waist, made solely of sparkly crystals. Not quite diamonds, but shiny enough for him to know you really spoiled yourself with it. 
It was delicate and complimented your skin beautifully. Hoseok couldn’t blame you for picking it, it looked like it had been made for you. 
“My baby girl likes shiny things, huh?” Hoseok’s thumbs were rubbing soft circles on your skin, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth as he looked you over. 
“Just wanna look good for daddy.” you whined, continuing: “I know you like shiny things, too. Thought you might like to fuck me with it on.” 
The man groaned, hips twitching, which was the reaction you were looking for. 
You could admit that adding the piece of body jewelry to the already pricey set you picked was a last minute decision, but you knew your Dom would like it. Your taste wasn’t nearly as expensive as his was, his basic underwear cost more than the couch he was sitting on. 
Besides, he liked to spoil you. And who were you to deny him? 
Before he could tell you off for taking too long again, you pulled the shirt all the way off, showcasing the bra hugging your breasts and pushing them up into perky mounds. The sheer fabric didn’t hide your nipples, which were pebbled under the material. Before the shirt was even touching the floor, Hoseok was holding you by the sides of your ribs, lips pressing against your collarbones. 
He kissed and nipped at your skin, covering it in reddening blossoms as his hands touched your sides and pulled you into him. You bowed under his touches, pushing your chest towards his face as he kissed a path to your mounds. Your hands slipped into his hair, shivers covering your skin as you looked down to find his half lidded eyes boring into yours. 
“Fuck, Hoseok–” your fingers squeezed his hair as his teeth sunk in on the supple flesh of your tit, tongue licking over the bite to soothe. 
“You’re so perfect, baby.” he hummed, eyes closing as his lips traced a wet path to your nipple. 
You were a whiny mess as his pouty lips latched around your hardened bud, over the thin layer of mesh of your bra. You felt his spit coating the fabric and covering your skin, the twirl of his tongue as he sucked it into his mouth making you moan and start a new pace with your hips, rubbing yourself all over his cock. Hoseok let go of your nipple to switch sides and repeat the same teasing moves with your other nipple. 
“Daddy, please.” you moaned, hands dropping to his shoulders to close in fists on the fabric of his shirt. 
“What is it you want, angel?” 
“Wanna go to my room.” you sighed as Hoseok kissed your chin, your cheek and the corner of your lips. “Please?” 
“Finally found your manners?” Hoseok grinned, which made you roll your eyes. “What was that?” 
You froze, eyes wide, looking anywhere but him. “Nothing, daddy. Please.” 
The man squinted at you, not at all convinced, but relented and gave your thighs a little tap so you could get up from his lap. There was a very obvious wet spot on his jeans, and you knew it was from you and how wet you were, you could feel your panties clinging to your folds as you stood up on wobbly legs. 
Your Dom didn’t comment on it as his hand slipped into yours and he let you pull him towards your bedroom, as if he hadn’t been there before, as if hadn’t carried you there more times than you walked there. 
You pushed your door open, rushedly approaching your bed, but before you could plop down on it like the perfect pillow princess that you were, Hoseok was pulling you into his hard chest. 
His hand went to the back of your neck to hold your face in place as he dragged you into a wet, slow and teasing kiss that had you moaning out, giving him enough space to shove his tongue into your mouth. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he turned your head this way and that to add delicious depth to the kiss. 
Hoseok was leaning into you hard, making you bow back as you kissed him just as feverishly, full of tongue and teeth nipping at each other’s lips. His free hand gave your ass a hard squeeze, making you moan louder as he pushed your legs apart to slot a knee between your legs. 
“Oh my god, daddy–” you whimpered at the new pressure on your cunt, rubbing yourself shamelessly against his hard thigh. 
“Yeah, baby? You like that?” his leg flexed as he mumbled against your lips and you couldn’t help but chase more of it. 
“So much.” you nodded, the dull throbs between your legs making you absolutely soaked. “You’re so good to me, daddy.” 
“I’m good to you when you earn it.” it sounded like a threat, or maybe a warning, you weren’t sure. 
As his lips met your neck and his deft fingers touched your back to unclasp your bra with a single tug, you pulled on his shirt with complaining noises. Hoseok chuckled at your reaction and removed his leg from between yours, just so he could have more balance to pull his own shirt off his body. 
You might have complained about the lack of pressure, but Hoseok’s body was always a sight to behold. So much so that you fell backwards, sitting on the edge of your bed as you admired him. 
Hoseok had to be the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life. Most of the time you doubted he was even real. 
His face was slender and beautifully long, jaw as sharp as his tongue. His nose was perfectly crafted, thin and elegant. Almond eyes under a strong brow bone and his fucking lips… 
And then there was his dancer’s body. 
Prominent collarbones, strong shoulders, slender arms that bulged slightly as he moved. The planes of his chest were muscular, but not exaggeratedly so. His stomach was lean, but full of lines and ridges that drew a path down to the delightful ‘V’ that led to the bulge tenting his baggy pants. 
Bulging veins ran up and down his arms, to the back of his hands as he touched his own stomach; teasing you further. With a step ahead, he was standing between your legs, holding your chin with two lithe fingers, tipping your head back and uttering a single word:
“Open.” 
You sucked in a sharp breath, jaw falling slack as you opened your mouth wide for him, tongue stretched out as your brain fogged further, hazy eyes blurring further. You watched with thighs pressed together as he sucked on his tongue and puckered his lips, letting a fat glob of his spit fall and land on your tongue. 
Your eyes rolled back in pleasure this time, not defiance, and you kept your mouth open. Hoseok was smiling with pride as his thumb touched your tongue, spreading his spit and mixing with yours that had started to collect in your mouth. Only when he was satisfied with your obedience, he said:
“Swallow.” 
Your lips closed around his thumb and you swallowed his spit and yours, while hollowing your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Hoseok watched your every move as you slowly pulled back, only to dive in again, head bobbing slowly as if you were sucking on his cock. 
It was affecting him so much that his free hand palmed at his cock, making your eyes follow the way his long fingers outlined his thick shaft, making your mouth water even further. 
When Hoseok pulled his thumb out of your mouth, there was an audible pop! as you let it go. 
“Be a good girl and take my pants off.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
You felt your bra straps falling down your arms, letting the delicate garment fall to the floor as you scooted closer to the very edge of your bed, hands on Hoseok’s hips. You looked up at him as you kissed his lower stomach, tongue peeking out to lick the squares of his abs as your trembling hands undid his belt buckle, pulling it open, making his pants hang even lower on narrow hips. 
“That’s it, baby girl.” he praised and your eyes fluttered. 
You tugged on the button of his pants and pulled the zipper down, the jeans coming down easily after that. You looked at him then, black Balenciaga boxers that actually did cost more than your couch and your new swarovski body chain combined. 
“Daddy’s so hard.” you blinked at him cutely as you closed the distance between your face and his crotch, nuzzling your cheek against his cock like the perfect kitten. Your lips traced the outline of it as you muttered: “So big, too.” 
“You love daddy’s big cock, don’t you, sweet baby?” 
You nodded, parting your lips to lick around the head, sucking on the pre-cum that was staining the dark fabric. It tasted heady and tangy on your tongue and you loved it. You ended up making even more of a mess, sucking the tip over his briefs as your hand slipped between his legs to cup his balls. 
Hoseok’s head fell back as he rutted against your hand and mouth before a small tug to your hair pulled you back. 
“Daddy doesn’t want my mouth?” you asked with a pout and tears brimming your eyes. 
“Daddy wants to make you feel good, baby.” Hoseok made a cooing noise from the back of his throat, caressing the side of your face to soothe you. “Go lay down on your pillows for me.” 
You blinked hard, willing the stubborn tears to go away. You were so far gone you felt like floating on clouds as your sluggish body rested against your mattress, head on a pillow in the middle. 
“Panties off, baby girl. Leave that pretty jewelry on.” 
You obeyed with lethargic movements, hooking your fingers on the thin band of your pink panties, swiveling your hips to help pull it off. It felt a lot heavier now than when you first put it on, a string of your arousal connecting the pantied to your cunt, snapping against your thigh as Hoseok took the piece from you to pull it off the rest of the way. 
“Spread those legs for me, gorgeous girl.” Hoseok ordered as he joined you on the bed, pushing your knees apart wider. “Look at you. You’re fucking dripping.” 
Hoseok’s mouth watered at the sight of you, lips shiny with arousal, slightly swollen from all the grinding. Your skin was already flushed, covered in a light layer of sweat. He had never seen anything more beautiful than your naked form, all of your curves and soft spots, marks on your body that were proof of your growth. He loved the small scar just above your knee from when you fell off a bike as a child, the faint stretch marks on the sides of your hips, the softness of your lower stomach that he adored to bite. 
The body chain around the dip of your waist was dangerous, however, as now he wanted to cover you in diamonds. 
“Daddy, please–” you squirmed, writhing on the bed to call him closer. “You’re staring.”
“I like admiring art, baby.” he grinned at the dusky blush creeping down your neck. As he laid between your legs, Hoseok said: "I like licking it even more."
"Remind me to never take you to the Louvre." you giggled, sweet as honey, making Hoseok chuckle along. 
"Venus de Milo has nothing on you, baby." 
Hoseok leaned down, mouth on the inside of your thigh as he licked and sucked your juices from your skin. He moaned at your taste as you couldn't take your eyes off him. His dark chocolate hair was a mess from all your tugging, ticking your skin as he ravished your thighs before bringing his face next to your pussy.
You were so used to him teasing you, taking his time before allowing you to cum, that when his tongue gave your pussy a bold lick it caught you by surprise. You moaned loudly as your back arched off the mattress, curses leaving your lips. 
Hoseok chuckled at your reaction, with his mouth very much still connected to you, making you feel the vibrations on your soul. His hands held your thighs apart as they started to shake the more he licked you.
Your Dom explored your pussy as if trying to map it out, as if he hadn't done it hundreds of times before. He rubbed the flat of his tongue on your clit, moving his whole head in circular motions to have you squirming under him. 
The tip of his tongue traced slow circles around your clit, drawing patterns you couldn’t make a shape off, maybe spelling his own name. When it moved south, lower and lower until it reached your empty hole, you clenched and moaned, knowing you would be so full between this moment and the end of the night. 
"Daddy, your tongue feels so good…" you moaned in a choked sound as he smacked a kiss on your clit. "Fuck, feel so close already–"
"So fast, baby girl? I didn't even start."
He sounded fucking smug, but Hoseok had the skills to back it up. His hands slipped to the back of your thighs to pull himself impossibly closer to your cunt, his whole mouth working you into oblivion. 
You were a dripping mess already, now that his spit was covering your lips and each flick of his tongue made more of your essence ooze out of you, you could feel it on your ass. 
Hoseok’s lips wrapped around your clit and he alternated between sucking hard and licking it from side to side, up and down, in a practiced routine he knew drove you mad. 
Your hand reached for his hair as your feet planted on the bed so you could ride his face, rubbing your pussy all over it as your lower stomach tensed and your body started to tremble. 
"Gonna cum, Hoseok–" you announced, even though he already knew, even if he could already tell. "Yes, yes, don’t sto–" 
Your orgasm was ripped away from you as your Dom moved his mouth away from your pussy and got back up onto his knees. You gasped and whined pitifully as the wave you were riding receded, eyes wide in shock as Hoseok pried your fingers away from his hair. 
"Daddy, what–" your chest was rising and falling, heart beating fast as frustration made the mist clouding your brain go back down just a little bit. Just enough for you to pout and scowl at the lost climax. 
“Did you really think I was going to let you cum this easily, after the little stunt you pulled today?” Hoseok was wiping his face with the back of your hand and licking his lips, looking like an unholy demon sent to earth to drag you to the pits of burning hell. 
“What– but– I d-din’t mean–” you had fat tears in your eyes as your veins burned hot. You wanted to squeal and pout and throw a tantrum, kick your legs at him and cross your arms. 
But Hoseok would love that reaction, only adding it to your punishment. His challenging and ridiculously arched eyebrow was waiting for you to make a fuss. Swallowing down your anger was bitter. You could argue and you could play it hard. 
Hoseok could play this game longer, however, so it was in your best interest to stop complaining. You took deep, calming breaths that weren’t really doing anything for you, but were obviously a lot of fun for your Dom, who had the gull to laugh. 
“Are you all done, little brat?” he chided, deepening the lines between your brows. “Gonna sulk some more?” 
“No.” you grumbled under your breath, sitting up against your headboard and hugging your knees to your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. “How many?” 
“How many do you think you earned?” he scooted a little closer to you, sitting by your feet. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his body, cock very much still hard and tenting his boxers. There was no way that wasn’t painful. 
“I don’t know, daddy.” you were still pouting, but the annoyance was slowly leaving your body. 
“Don’t be mad at me, you know I have to discipline you.” his hand reached for your ankle, pulling your leg to straighten it again. 
“I know, ‘m not mad.” you practically whispered, the soothing rubs of his hand on your skin helping you settle again. “I was a brat. You should punish me.” 
“That’s my good girl.” he praised as you grew pliant and accepting of the results of your actions. “Want to help me count them?” 
Sometimes Hoseok was harsh, and sometimes he talked to you as if you were a child and he was teaching you a lesson. I’m only doing this because I love you. He never used those words, but sometimes that’s what it felt like. 
You wished you could explain why the fuck that made you so fucking horny for him, but maybe that’s something you should bring to your therapist instead of trying to knit-pick on your own. 
Hoseok waited for you to nod, gave you time to sit with your feelings, understand your irritation. If you aimed it at him in the form of resentment, he’d accept it, too. But you never did. You knew what you did was wrong and, in some level of your masochist brain, this right here was one of the reasons why you acted out in the first place. 
“I texted you when I knew you were busy. And I sent you a picture when I knew you had people around.” you started quietly, breath hitching as the more you spoke, the higher his caressing reached. “I sent you a video, too.” 
“That’s three, so far. What else, baby?” he nodded with a deceivingly sweet smile. 
Hoseok’s other hand pulled on your other leg, spreading you for him again, sitting between your legs as one of his fingers swiped between your folds. It was a gentle touch, but still made shockwaves course through you. 
He must have seen it in your face how you were starting to drop again, from a single touch. To help you out, he said:
“What’s something you didn’t do?”
You blinked dumbly, biting your bottom lip as your Dom started to circle your clit with the tip of his thumb. Over and over again. It felt nice and it was making you docile. But it wasn't enough to get you there. He obviously knew it, too, which was exactly why that’s all he was giving you. 
“Oh! I d-din’t send you a picture of my food.” you told him, smiling at yourself as Hoseok’s touches sped up just a little more. “Fuck, that’s good–”
“Four.” Hoseok was keeping count, which was great, as you couldn’t. He kept rolling your clit just like that, using his thumb when his middle finger moved down to your clenching hole. It felt like ages until he gave up on getting help from you and said: “You talked back to me on the couch. You rolled your eyes at me. And you made a fuss when I told you I’d have to punish you for misbehaving.”
“Seven?” you cried out, heart going haywire in your chest from the pleasure he was giving you. 
“Don’t you think it sounds reasonable?”
His eyes were lowered as he regarded you and you knew if you said no, he’d make it eight. 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Good girl.” Hoseok’s finger left your pussy and you bit back a complaint. 
He was moving again, likely to get into position, when you reached for his wrist. 
“Daddy?” you called in a weak voice, eyes filling with water as you felt liquified and airy at the same time. “Can I– uh–” 
Hoseok was watching you carefully. He knew how to handle you and he knew which boundaries to push. But he was still human, sometimes he read it wrong. So when he saw the tears in your eyes, alarm bells started ringing in his brain and he started to panic. Maybe he was being too hard, maybe he made a mistake. 
“Come here, baby.” he called to you, sitting on the bed and opening his arms to you. 
You crawled to him sitting on his lap as he hugged you into his chest. You hid your face against his neck and held him firmly. Hoseok was ready to end the scene depending on the answer to his next question: 
“Do you need to use your safeword?” 
“No, Seok.” you answered pretty fast, which was a good thing. 
“Can you tell me what it is?” his hand was moving up and down your back. 
“Pandora.” 
He cradled your face in his hands, looking at the twitch in your eyes, listening to your soft breaths. “Can you give me a color? I want to think about it, don’t just answer.” 
“Green. I’m okay, I promise.” you smiled softly, kissing the pad of his thumb. “Just dropping.” 
“You know we can stop–”
You interrupted him with the gentle press of your lips against him. He didn’t pull back, but let you lick between the seams of his lips, let you lick into his mouth and allowed you to keep control of the kiss for once.
"Babe, please." you pulled away from his lips so he could see the truth behind your eyes. "I need this. I want this. Punish me, please." 
Hoseok bumped his nose against yours, a soft contrast to his previous posture. He nodded, but you still continued: 
"I need you to punish me, then I need you to fuck me." you moaned against the column of his beautiful neck, hand sneaking between his legs to palm his cock. "Make me cum around this cock, or around your fingers, or on your tongue. I don't care how you do it, just take me." 
You took his hand with the one that wasn’t still palming his cock, bringing it to your throat. It was all the consent he needed, the tight collar around your throat, locked in place, reminding the two of you that you belonged to him. That you trusted him more than you ever trust anyone in your whole life. 
You did want this. You craved his hands on you, pussy throbbing just by thinking about it. You knew your subspace was oscillating today, you kept coming back to the surface, but you wanted to drown. 
Hoseok understood the message and pressed his long fingers on the sides of your throat, squeezing, making you part your lips and moan. His lips pressed against your cheek, his next works making you smile drunkenly as he spoke:
“Remember you asked for it.” your Dom let go of your throat and unwrapped his arms from around you, adding: “Face down, ass up, hands behind your back.” 
For how sluggish and dizzy you felt, you moved quite fast. Well, in your mind you did, at least. By the time you were in the position your Dom asked you to be in, Hoseok had already rummaged to the bottom drawer in your dresser and returned to the bed. 
You knew you were in trouble when you heard the metallic clinks that were so familiar to you at this point, knowing he had been the one to buy more than half of the contents of your bottom drawer. 
You were curious to know what had been his pick for tonight, but giving in and taking a look over your shoulder would only make seven turn to eight. 
Your knees were propped up and parted as your upper body was held up by your elbows on the mattress as you felt it dip with the new added weight when the man positioned himself behind you. 
"Hands, baby girl." Hoseok’s tone was a no-bullshit one, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hands rubbed from the top of your thighs to your lower back, warming up your ass cheeks for what was to come, no doubt. 
You quietly obeyed, pressing your cheek against your soft sheets, knowing the discomfort the position would bring you, but embracing it nonetheless. You bent one arm on your back, then another one, and Hoseok moved them to how he wanted them; forearm against forearm. 
You felt the rough leather of his favorite cuffs being tightened around each of your wrists, being followed by the clink of the metal bits that fastened both handcuffs to each other. 
"Color?" 
Hoseok was only checking to see if they were too tight, or not tight enough, so you moved your arms to check how much room to squiggle you had. 
"Green, daddy." 
"Good girl." his hands were back on you, palming and squeezing your ass to his heart's desire, opening you up to see all of you. His low chuckle was mocking as he said: "You’re even wetter now, baby. You really like this, don't you?"
You did. 
"I can take my punishment, daddy." you nodded, wincing at the slight scratch of the sheets on your pressed cheek. "Please give it to me." 
Hoseok was humming and you knew that if you could look at him, you’d see lowered eyelids of blown out pupils, red bitten lips shiny from licking them. It was a shame you couldn’t look at him, the strain on your neck would be much too painful, but you were sure that was surely part of your punishment. 
Perhaps it was the only downside to it at all. 
Your breath got caught in your throat, jaw dropping as you felt something much too familiar being lightly dragged down your back; the few dozens of long strands of leather touching your heated skin as your Dom allowed you to find out what kind of punishment you were about to get. 
Thankfully you hadn’t acted out too much, or you might have to call in sick for work tomorrow. Despite the pain you knew you were about to feel, or maybe exactly because of it, you started clenching around nothing, moaning softly as the feeling of the flogger left. 
Your eyes closed shut, as if the first strike were to come at any moment now. Hoseok didn’t always warn you, you knew he fed off on the power of having you so vulnerable in front of him, ass up and face down, with no choice but to take it. 
“Relax, baby girl.” the was a light tilt to his tone, showing you just how much fun he was having already. “Deep breath for me.” 
You were in the middle of taking said breath when it came. The slap! as Hoseok lashed the flogger against your ass cheek. And he knew how to do it, too, having years of experience in all things BDSM before you even came into the picture. So he knew how to aim, he knew how to make sure the tips of the flogger hit your skin to make it bloom and hurt, but not enough for you to call out your safe word or a color. 
Your whole body jolted, the cuffs squeezed your wrists as you tried to move your arms as you reacted to the mind numbing pain and the shock that always came with that first strike. 
The second one came five seconds later, on the other ass cheek, with plenty of time for you to warn your Dom if you weren’t into it, if he needed to slow down. But the only sounds leaving you were your moans growing louder. Your skin was tingling deliciously and your pussy was throbbing with want. 
“Look at this wet cunt.” he sounded raspy and gravely, the touch of his hand on the first ass cheek that was hit making you wince and your jaw drop. Hoseok spread you open with his grip. “You're dripping for me, baby. I'm gonna start to think you like being a brat on purpose. But you take it like such a good girl.”
“I’m so good, daddy–” 
You full on whimpered, eyes shut and stinging with unshed tears as you tried to control your breathing. You gave up on it when Hoseok’s mouth latched onto your pussy, wicked tongue pushing between your lips, licking you up and down. You knew you were soaked with how much your Dom slurped and swallowed, being loud enough for your face to burn. 
The tip of his tongue dragged from your clenching hole, all the way down to your clit, flicking it and rolling the bud on the flat of his tongue. You were completely dizzy in the best way, no words coming out, only mumbles that sounded a lot like a jumble of his name and his title. 
You were getting so close again, the coil on your stomach tensing. Maybe if you were quiet enough, maybe if you stopped breathing so hard–
“You’re so cute, baby, thinking you can fool me.” the man laughed as he got back to his full height on his knees behind you, ripping yet another orgasm away from you. You groaned softly, but other than that you stayed quiet. “What? Not gonna make a fuss again?” 
You shook your head, teeth sinking in on your bottom lip so hard that it might as well draw blood. At the corner of your eyes, you saw your Dom reach for the red and black leather flogger once more, the veins running down his arm and on the back of his hand were all puffy and sexy and maybe you could cum untouched. 
The next two strikes that followed were delivered with the length of the flogger lashes, not just the tip, so the pain was different. You felt a heavy thud on each cheek more than a sting, squealing out a moan so loud that your neighbors might start to worry. 
Four strikes had gone–
“Fuck, daddy!” you cried out when the fifth strike came out of nowhere, hitting the back of your upper thigh, where the skin was a lot more sensitive. Your body jolted forward so hard that Hoseok let go of the flogger again. 
“You better stop squirming, baby, you know what happens when I miss.” Hoseok’s hands were on the dips of hips to pull you back towards him and reposition you to the original pose. 
You knew what could happen if Hoseok missed. You could get hurt really bad, there were softer and more delicate parts of your body that could really hurt and even cut if he accidentally hit them with the flogger. 
But your Dom never missed. Hoseok was the epitome of control, at all times. It was attractive as it was infuriating, as you knew there would be no winning with him. 
Although it didn’t feel like you were losing either, as two of his fingers circled your entrance. Your jaw fell slack and your eyes rolled back as those long digits slipped inside with so much ease from how wet you were that you sobbed from the pleasure. 
Hoseok’s fingers hooked downwards in skilled angles that made him find the swollen little sweet spot inside of you and massage it with surprisingly slow movements that were pure fucking torture as it felt so good, but not enough. You could barely control your body anymore, brain and limbs completely disconnected as you pushed back against his fingers. 
“Mhm, keep going, baby. Fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers.” 
Hoseok was in heaven, eyes glued to the way your hips were moving back and forth, making your walls spread to accommodate his fingers. When he added a third one, you whimpered at the new stretch, but kept going. He knew you were too far gone and at the back of his mind Hoseok was already thinking of what excuse he could use to miss out on work tomorrow, he knew you’d need him by your side. 
On the front of his mind, however, Hoseok was going crazy for how shiny and coated with your arousal his fingers were, glistening each time you moved almost all the way away from them, only to sink back in. Your ass and thighs were red, the evident lines of where the flogger hit your skin were painting you in reds and pinks, the bumpy lines calling for Hoseok’s lips and mouths. 
When your pussy started clenching again, spasming all around his fingers, pussy lips all swollen and perfect, Hoseok knew you were closing to cumming again, so he took his fingers out of you. You cried real tears, sniffing pitifully as they dripped into a tiny pool where your face was smooched against your bedsheets. 
You were taking your punishment so well that it filled him with pride, how good you were for him, how you’d let him carry on with this all night if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t handle it all night. 
Hoseok’s cock was throbbing painfully inside his underpants, the visuals of you tied up, fucked out, red ass up and dripping pussy were almost too much, even for someone so in control of his own instincts as he was. 
“Just two more, baby, you’re doing so well for me.” he managed to choke out as he pushed his boxers down, leaking cock bobbing with the move. Hoseok used your slick around his fingers to coat himself and make the slide of his fisted hand easier as he stroked himself. “Two more and then I’m going to fuck you so good you won’t be walking tomorrow.” 
“Please, daddy, please, I-I’ve been s-so good–” 
The little hiccups between your words were adorable, making his cock pulse in his palm. Hoseok kept stroking his cock in lazy motions, thumb spreading his pre-cum over the sensitive tip, wishing it was your warm mouth instead. His free hand reached for the flogger, and the last few hits were always his favorite. 
One strike landed on your left thigh, matching the blossoming colors with the right one. The last smack was delivered on the middle of your ass, where it was a little more sensitive and the long lashes hit both of your cheeks at the same time. You sang like a dove, forehead pressing against the mattress instead of your cheek; maybe to hide your tears, or to alleviate the pain on your neck from being in that position for too long. 
“Shh, that’s it, baby girl.” Hoseok dropped the flogger to the floor, its weight making it clatter on the wood. He leaned over you, kissing up your spine, hands rubbing the sides of your thighs as he avoided the sore spots. “You did so good for me, hm? Took your punishment so well. I’m so proud of you.” 
You grumbled whatever words he couldn’t properly make out, making Hoseok smile between kisses on your back. He’d like nothing more than to fuck you just like this, all red and vulnerable, the constant hit of his hips on your bruises would bypass the point of pleasure and he never wanted that. 
“Gonna unlock the cuffs now, okay? Don’t pull your arms.” 
Your only reply was a nod and as Hoseok needed both hands to undo the clasps keeping your wrists bound, his cock rested on your ass. He hissed as you started to roll your hips, trying to get more of him. And you deserved it, too, after being so good for him. 
It took a lot of self restraint not to fuck his cock into you, when he knew it would slip right in, your slick was already coating his tip and your pussy was trying to suck him in. He was careful when unbending your arms from their awkward position, helping you lay on your back, going as far as fluffing up the pillows under your head. 
Your cheeks were red and wet, a bit of your waterproof mascara smudging under your eyes, lips as red as cherries, a tiny string of drool starting to dry on the corner of your mouth. 
“You’re so pretty, baby.” he praised, and Hoseok meant it too. “My pretty girl. All mine.” 
“Only yours, Seok.” you sighed and winced at the same time as you tried to get comfortable and reach for him. “Thank you.” 
“What are you thanking me for, hm?” the man positioned himself above you, spreading your legs so he could lay his heavy cock on your cunt, slipping between your lips to coat himself in your slick. 
“Being here.” you half shrugged, hazy eyes staring up at him as if you felt more than he was ready to let himself believe. “Being good to me.” 
He didn’t have a reply for you, not unless you wanted to hear the confession bubbling from his throat, so he kissed you instead. Hoseok held you by the neck, the cold feeling of your collar was surprisingly comforting for him; at least you were his in some ways. 
You parted your lips for him easily, pushing your tongue into his mouth in needy want. It must have taken you great effort to lift your sore arms to wrap around his frame, pulling him closer until your chests were pressing together. Your skin was sticky with sweat and felt so hot he worried you might be feverish. 
But you were sighing happily as his tongue licked yours, pushing deeper into your mouth as his lips moved along with yours. The smacking of your mouths and the small sounds you were making had his hips rutting into you, making the two of you breathless and panting. 
“Fuck me, daddy.” you mewled into his mouth, spreading your legs wider. 
“Just like this?” he asked with lips ghosting your jaw, moving to your neck. “Want daddy to fuck you bare?” 
“Always do.” you nodded, nails scratching patterns on his back. 
You did always like when he fucked you with no barries in between you, but Hoseok still asked. Not only because he was a good man, but because he loved to hear you say it. And you knew it too, so you added:
“Please, Seok, wanna feel all of you–” you sighed beautifully, arching your back. “Wanna cream around your cock. Want you to fill me up with your cum.”
“Fucking hell–” 
Hoseok was almost dripping in sweat at this point, cock hurting with the lack of pressure or anything. Your cunt felt so warm against him, he could cum just from rutting against you, but you made him a request. You asked him to fill your little pussy with his mess and he loved to spoil you, giving you anything you wanted. 
One of his hands slipped between your bodies to stroke his cock as he positioned himself at your entrance, eyes stuck to the way you opened up nicely to take his tip in. You moaned at the stretch, but it was blissful and happy, starting to squirm underneath him the more he pushed. 
You were pliant and docile under him, breathing through the slight pain and tiredness, looking like the perfect angel as the crystals around your waist shone in the dim lighting of your bedroom. Hoseok would definitely get you a new collar, made of the purest diamonds he could find. 
When he pushed all the way in, your walls squeezing him to accommodate his well-above-average girth and length, you pouted and lines formed between your brows. Hoseok chuckled lowly, kissing your forehead and your nose and your lips, soothing you, praising you for ‘how well you’re taking this fat cock’ and ‘gonna make you cum so good, baby girl’. 
“You can move–” you sucked in a gasp as he did just that. “Shit, that was fast.” 
“Sorry. Gotta fuck you.” he laughed into the crook of your neck, both arms wrapping around you to hold you so close you might have difficulty breathing. “Your pussy feels so fucking good, baby.” 
“I’m so full.” you sounded as drunk as he felt. 
Hoseok started a lazy pace with the back and forth drag of his hips, fucking his cock in and out of you. He kept it light and shallow, teasing you just a little more. You were so wet around him, so warm, he could die right now and he’d be the happiest man alive. Things didn’t get much better than this. 
You were squeezing around him on purpose, he knew, one leg wrapping around his waist to make him hit deeper. You whined, long and dragged, nails sinking in on the skin of his back, making his teeth do the same to your neck. 
“More, daddy–” you crooned, moving your hips to match his thrusts. “Please, I need more, I’m so close…”
“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok obliged, pulling his hips back and fucking into you all at once, so hard and fast that your body jolted, tits bouncing. “Like this? Hm? Baby likes it rough.” 
“Yes, yes–ohgod!” 
Your Dom’s new pace was manic, powerful dancer hips with enough stamina to work for the both of you. He felt so deep and you were so full you couldn’t help the tremble taking over your body. Your legs were shaking, your lower stomach was tightening, the coil forming rapidly. You had been so edged and so teased that you were being dragged closer and closer to the edge. 
New tears formed in your eyes as your fucked out brain was terrified he might stop you from cumming again, but he must have noticed as his lips pressed against your ear:
“Don’t hold back, baby. Cum for me, I know you’re so close.” his ear licked around the shell of your ear, covering you in goosebumps. “You promised to cream around my cock, didn’t you? Be a good girl and make a fucking mess.” 
A single tear dripped down your cheek, which Hoseok caught with his lips on a sweet kiss. The noise of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy as he pounded into you because muffled as your orgasm finally hit you. 
You were pretty sure you screamed out his name, clinging to him for dear life, body rocking with so much force your headboard might make a dent on the wall. Your climax was hard and euphoric, making every nerve end on your body light up, toes curling as you spasmed around him. 
“Always feel so fucking good.” Hoseok’s breath was choppy, his voice was low and raspy. 
He slowed down, but didn’t stop, slowly dragging you into oversensitivity, so you complained: “Too much, Seok–”
“You’re gonna do one more for me.” he told you with a sloppy spack to your cheek. 
Hoseok parted from you, which was a shame because you loved to feel his heat on your skin. He took your leg and pulled it up, throwing it over his shoulder as his hips started to gain momentum again. 
“Color, baby?” he asked, but all you could do was stare are his glistening chest, his protruding collarbones, long neck and the vein running on the side of it. Hoseok’s dark hair was messy and pointing in odd angles. Your lack of answer made him slow down. “Use your words, baby, don’t drool.” 
“You. Handsome.” you worded, ever so eloquently, making his hips stutter before picking his pace back up. 
“Color, little brat.” he insisted and you giggled. 
“I’m rainbow colored right now.” you felt high in the clouds, the oversensitivity turning into bliss, making another coil form at the pit of your tummy. 
Hoseok was shaking his head with a smile on his heart-shaped lips, the drag of his hips was sharp and strong as he fucked you a little more desperate than before. He was so close you could almost feel him throb inside your cunt and his moans were shameless. 
But you knew he wouldn’t let go before you came again. 
That’s when his fingers found your clit and he rubbed you as fast as he was thrusting into you, making you writhe and squirm. You chanted his name, babbled whatever words you could make out, orgasm approaching you faster with each drag of his cockhead on your sweet spot and the tight circles he was rubbing on your clit. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again–” you warned, but there was no doubt in his focused eyes as Hoseok stared at your pussy as it swallowed his cock. 
��Cum for me– wanna see you make a fucking mess again.” Hoseok was ramming into you with fuller thrusts, the back of your thigh where the flogger hit was burning, but you didn’t care. 
“Seokie–!”
Your pussy was aching with each inconsistent and rapid thrust, lower stomach tensing as the coil burst and your orgasm was ripped out of you in strong and lewd gushes, hitting his legs and lower stomach. He kept rubbing you to get everything out of you, until the last drop. 
You went blind for a few seconds, ears buzzing with blood rushing fast, spots behind your eyes, but you got your vision back just in time to watch Hoseok’s perfect fucking face contort in pleasure, two shallow thrusts before he stilled and threw his head back, painting your insides with his cum. 
“Fuck, yeah–” he sighed, hips coming alive once more just to fuck his seed deeper into you. 
That’s when he collapsed on top of you, still careful not to crush you, but completely spent, sweaty and gone. You were smiling and hugging him as you tried to breathe, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead so you could kiss his damp skin. 
Hoseok kissed up and down your throat, nuzzling into you, making you giggle as it tickled you and you were both too sweaty and your sheets were too wet for your comfort. It clearly bothered himself too, the clean freak that he was, as he groaned: 
“We need to shower.” 
“We need a nap.” you corrected with a scratchy throat and sore body. “You need to call your sister and tell her you’re the reason I’m not walking into work tomorrow.” 
“I’m sure that’ll go down well.” he laughed and your heart squeezed in the best way. “You can nap. I’ll get you some water for when you wake up.”
“No.” you groaned, arms wrapping around him harder. “Cuddle.” 
Hoseok could never resist you, especially not after everything that just went down. He slowly pulled out of you, eyeing the thick globs of cum that dribbled down your hole as he did so. It was hard not to push it back in and ask you to keep it in, but he knew a single touch right now might hurt you, so he dropped next to you and allowed you to snuggle into his side. 
You were soft and mellow, not a single knot on your muscles as you closed your eyes and pressed your cheek to his chest. Hoseok let you sleep, watching your breathing even, watching the tiny smile form on the corner of your lips. 
He was already making a list of your aftercare: Nap, cuddles, shower, ointment for your ass, kisses, food, plenty of liquids. Hoseok had already planned the text he’d send Namjoon to let him know he wouldn’t be going back to the dorm and likely would be late for work. He could deal with the complaints later. 
Convincing you to skip work would be a little more complicated than that, you hated to let people down, you hated to let his sister down. But Hoseok really doubted you could walk tomorrow. 
“Seokie?” you called him softly, when he thought you were sleeping. 
“Yes, baby?” his fingers were absentmindedly playing with the body chain around your body. 
He thought you might thank him for a good fuck, make a joke about acting out more often. But your next words made his heart do a fucking thing instead:
“I think I love you.” 
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back2bluesidex · 4 months
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Best Fucking Friends - JHS & PJM (18+)
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Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.
Pairing: Hoseok X fem!reader X Jimin
Theme: PWP, Smut, threesome (?) NSFW!!!
Wordcount: 2k+
Summary: Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.  
Warnings: Explicit sex, unprotected sex (it's a no no), throat fucking, tit play, oral (both party receiving), little bit of insecure reader, jimin is blonde (yeah, that's a warning). tell me if there's more.
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: enjoy the flith.
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It’s almost pathetic how you are standing at your best friends’ door, wearing a thin tshirt and a pair of sweatpants, hair disheveled, sticking to every direction because of the tantrum you threw earlier.
Two bottles of soju and a dozen beer cans dangling from your arms resting inside two black polyethene. Heavy indeed, but you can manage.
You jab at the doorbell again, way too impatient to get inside your comforting nest, in their comforting embrace, but you don’t know what’s taking them so long. 
After almost 3 minutes of keeping you outside, Jimin finally opens the door and his eyebrows shoot to reach his hairline. 
“Y/N? hey?” he speaks through his plump lips but you are way too angry and frustrated to give into his ethereal beauty. 
“What the fuck took you so long? It’s been a lifetime since I started ringing the bell!” you spat at him, shoving him aside as you welcome yourself inside their apartment. 
“Ah! We thought our neighbor was here again to complain about our overflowing trash.” Jimin follows you inside as he takes a look at the items you are placing one by one on their coffee table. 
“I thought you had a date with your dumbass boyfriend today?” Jimin places carefully and you ignore his question. 
“Where is Hobi?” grabbing a beer can, you jump on their plush couch. God! You love this couch more than your own. 
“Taking a shower but that’s not important! You just ignored my question. Is everything alright or not, Y/N?” Jimin’s expression turns serious as he comes and sits down beside you. You ignore him again, taking a big and loud gulp from the beer can. 
The bathroom door clicks open and your other best friend walks out… wearing only a bathrobe. 
Your eyes fall on Hoseok and you almost choke on the beer. 
The loose neck of the bathrobe hangs low on his sharp collarbones, water drips down from his wet jet black hair and drops on his chest, and gradually gets soaked in the fluffy material of the robe. 
You shamelessly check him out even when you know Jimin's basically sitting beside you and can see you thirsting over his roommate slash best friend. And if you are not wrong, you probably see Jimin smirking a bit. 
“Y/N?” Hobi exclaims as soon as he notices you sitting on the couch, “didn’t you have a date?” 
That’s it! You come to your best friends for some solace but all they have to talk about.. Is your date!
“Why the fuck do you guys have to talk about him? He dumped me! Do you guys hear what I am saying? He fucking dumped me!!” you scream at the top of your lungs. Your eyes turn blurry and before you close them you see Hoseok running to you. 
Within a moment, you find yourself being sandwiched between two warm bodies, one slightly wet and another way too soft. 
Before you know, you start crying, “that fucker said he doesn’t feel the same way for me anymore! He said he found someone else and thinks that she is the soulmate he was looking for! That nutjob!” 
Jimin rubs on your back saying, “it’s his loss, completely his loss.”
“I thought we could be something. I thought- he loves me! Fuck! I am a fool! Why would anyone fall for a cold, short-tempered, not-so-attractive 27 year old like me?” you shout again, voice already hoarse. 
“Stop talking nonsense.” Hoseok rolls you into a sharp rebuke, “since when you are so low on your confidence? Did you forget how many guys you had warped around your fingers back in our uni days? Nothing has changed since then. You are still very much attractive and you still have at least two guys all whipped for you.” 
Two guys? Wait! He isn’t referring to him and Jimin, is he?   
“Which two? Show me?” you reply, trying to sit straight on the couch. 
“Us” the hushed word comes out of Jimin’s lips. You whip your head to meet his eyes.
“What? What do you-” 
“You know what we mean, Y/N.” Hoseok says softly. You again turn your head to take the man in. your eyes bore into his darker ones and you realize your usual jolly Hobi is very much serious now. 
“Since when? And both of you? Wait! Don’t tell me you guys have fought over me or something?” Both of them break into laughter at this. 
“Not at all, darling. We aren’t highschool kids. We are grown up men and we know the pleasure of sharing.” Jimin speaks in a very sultry tone and that’s when you finally take a good look at the blonde man. 
Jimin has this gender-neutral charm that can rock anyone off their shoes. You will be lying if you say you are completely immune to those beautiful eyes, smooth blonde hair, perfect set of white teeth, that round juicy booty and especially those plump lips of his. Only you know how many times you imagined the taste of those pink muscles. 
However, that’s it. 
You didn’t think of taking your thoughts any further, especially when you have a big fat crush on your other best friend. 
You have always been on your knees for Hoseok since your university days. But you have always admitted the fact that he is way too good for you. So, you tkept your feelings bottled successfully. 
You might not be a giddy mess around him anymore but doesn't that mean you don’t feel weak for the man, especially when he is sitting right beside you, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and practically confessing that he has a crush on you too?
What the fuck? 
“Sharing? You guys wanna share me? h-how?” you shutter, being completely aware of what you are asking.
Hoseok looks at Jimin and gives him a knowing lopsided smile. 
“You wanna see how? Answer in yes or no.” Hoseok’s aura changes in a heartbeat and the sentence comes out less like a statement and more like an order. 
“Y-yes.” You shutter again.
“Good girl” Jimin whispers right behind your ear, “then you will do as we say, right?” 
“Yes” this time your voice comes out breathy. You already feel heat on your core even though the men haven’t even touched you yet. 
“You trust us, right?” Hoseok voices softly, as he tucks a stary strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Yeah.” another lone word slips past your lips. 
“Let us take the charge then. And tell us to stop whenever you feel like. Okay?” Hoseok’s eyes flood with warmth and darkness at the same time and you don’t know how it is even possible. So you just nod in agreement. 
“Strip.” Jimin says firmly and your eyes go wide.
“W-what?” you ask for confirmation.
“You heard me.” He states. You have never seen Jimin this serious for the entire 8 years of knowing him. You take a look at Hoseok, who seems to be waiting for you to comply with Jimin’s order. 
So you do.
Standing up on your feet, you slip out of your tshirt first, then your pants, then your bra and lastly your underwear. Just when you are about to throw your underwear away, Jimin extends his hand towards you, clearly asking for the article. 
You place it on his palms, embarrassed of the tiny wet patch caused by your impromptu arousal. 
“Bunny, huh?” Jimin chuckles at the cartoon bunny printed on the front side of your panty. He caresses the material for a moment and then takes it to his nose and inhales sharply. You start leaking due to his actions. 
You are way too busy with Jimin that you don’t see Hoseok ravishing your naked form with his eyes. He is very impatient. Finally after 8 years he is about to get the chance to taste you but you are too busy to observe Jimin’s antics. So he tugs at your hand and gains your attention. 
“Lay down, angel, let me have a taste.” Hoseok’s voice dips down a few octaves lower causing a shiver to run down your spine. 
Jimin takes the hold of your upper body and leans it down on the backrest of the couch. Hoseok moves on his feet, sits down on his knees right between your legs. 
Parting your legs gently, he hums in satisfaction, “umm.. Wet already.” 
The way Hoseok eyes your cunt, makes you gush out more arousal. The slick drips down your core causing Hoseok’s mouth to water. 
On the other hand, Jimin starts placing small, wet kisses on your jawline. Even though his position is a bit awkward, that doesn’t seem to bother him. 
His kisses travel down to the south and reach to your cleavage. But before you could react to that you feel a wet muscle testing your slicked slit. You look down to find Hoseok staring straight at you while lapping up your juices rapidly from your cunt. 
Jimin has also started licking at your perked nipples, flicking and biting those to his heart’s content. 
Fuck! It’s too much. Having your tits and cunt eaten out at the same time? A pleasure you never thought you would experience, that too, by your very own best friends. 
Hoseok takes your clit into his mouth while stretching your wet heated hole with two of his fingers right when Jimin digs his fingers into one of your tit and bites your other nipple harshly. 
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” you moan out a string of curses. Heads on the cloud, you feel euphoric. What in the world did you do in your past life to deserve this pleasure?
You start clenching around Hoseok’s fingers as he keeps on abusing your clit with his practiced tongue. He knows you are close.. You know it too.  
“Are you gonna cum, angel?” Hoseok whispers. His mouth and nose glistens with your arousal. You nod. 
A harsh slap lands on your wet tit. “Use your words, bunny.” Jimin commands. 
“Yes. yes gonna cum- ah! Fuck!” Hoseok cuts you off mid sentence by twisting his fingers and pressing down on your g-spot. 
And you cum unannounced, on Hoseok’s tongue. He sucks up every last bit of it.
“Look at her, hyung. She drenched you.” Jimin’s tone is sultry, lust drips from it. 
Hoseok chuckles darkly, “think of how much she would cum on our dicks, Jimin-ah!” 
You know they are teasing you and you would fight them usually but right now you are defenseless, in your post orgasm glory and you want them to keep going. 
“Fuck me please.” you murmur, pulling yourself out of your fucked up state, “fuck my cunt and mouth at the same time, please. Please!” you beg. 
They look at each other for a brief moment, coming to terms, Jimin says, “You sure you can take it?” 
“Yes! Yes I can.” your breath gets heavier with the anticipation of their cocks inside you one by one. 
You take one of both of their hands and place those on either of your tits. 
“Fuck me.. Please.” you beg, yet again. 
“Fuck, Y/N. you will be the end of us.” Hoseok bites his lips,as he squeezes your supple flesh, he continues, “On your fours, ass up, right now.”
You oblige. 
Jimin walks behind you and you know, he will be the one to fuck you first. Hoseok stands right in front of your face. He slips out of his bathrobe. His cock stands tall and proud. You start salivating at his sight. 
Talk about length and girth, he got it all. 
Craning your neck you take a look at Jimin. He, too, is naked now. And his cock is literally the most beautiful one you have ever seen. 
Hoseok places his hand on your chin, tilting your head back at him, he mutters, “are you ready, angel?”  
You reply saying yes. 
“Open both of your holes wide of us then.” he commands, you comply. 
Soon your throat and cunt fill with a pair of dicks belonging to you two hot best friends. And you can’t be happier. 
Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.   
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855 notes · View notes
borathae · 3 months
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"An unexpected rainstorm forces you to seek refuge at your best friend's house. Hoseok just so happens to also be your boyfriend's best friend, who till this day gushes about the night he and Hoseok shared. Soon you can't take the curiousity about his skills anymore. Especially when he looks so goddamn hot and the clothes you borrowed from him smell just like his cologne."
Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x Witch!Reader
Genre: Best Friends with Benefits!AU, Polyamory!AU, Smut, some domestic sweetness
Warnings: minimal Yoongi x f.Reader, Domish switch!Hoseok, Switch!Reader, there's not really a D/s dynamic though just two people having sex where one just happens to take the lead more & then they change it up, *whispers* if you're new to the Sanguis Universe everyone fucks everyone here lmaoo, Hoseok is a whole boyfriend i said what i said, he gives her his clothes to wear, they smell like him <3, Hobi is a lil nervous hehehe, lap sitting, making out, oral (f. & m.receiving), mattress & thigh humping, handjob, she spits on his cock, he spits on her pussy, passionate missionary, hair pulling (m.receiving), nipple play (m.receiving), clit & pussy spanking with his cock, he shows off his vampire face, dirty talk, praise, he calls her good girl & babygirl, he's into making her beg, multiple orgasms for both, creampies, cockwarming for aftercare, cuddly aftercare, Hoseok's so whipped for her
Wordcount: 12.6k
a/n: you guys, i'm scared he is so hot fjadsfja also, if anyone dares to call me out on my oral fixation i will lick your nostril JFJADJF istfg i can't even deny that i have it hahahah have fun besties because a bitch might cum 💗
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The rain surprised you today. You were at the university’s library for most of your afternoon after having spent your lunch and morning hours in lectures and classes. You want to finish your education. This is what your current plan is. A little bit of normalcy and the feeling of achieving one of your life long goals. 
You are the only one who went back to university after everything which happened. The others had no reason to do so and you didn’t blame them. You really liked being back at university, spending your days studying and your evenings practicing magic or cuddling with your  boys. You are living the best fucking life.
The rain surprised you today. You were on your way back home when a sudden rain shower took control of the sky. You could have easily called one of your boys and they could have picked you up, but you didn’t feel like it. Seokjin’s – aka Hoseok’s – house was just in reach and you are sure that you can find refuge there. 
You increase your steps, fighting against the storm. Hopefully Hoseok is home. Seokjin and Emma are back in Gordes for a few months, so Hoseok has been taking care of the house. He spends most of his weekends at the estate however, if he isn’t busy with his dance school that is. 
You hurry up the few steps and slam your finger on the doorbell. 
No answer for a few moments too long. The rain is wet and cold, the harsh storm brings down the temperature even more. You are shivering like crazy. Your clothes are soaked entirely.
You ring the bell a second time in sync with Hoseok opening the door. It results in you being able to hear the shrill ringing. 
“Hey”, you say, slipping your finger from the bell to give him a little wave.
“Hey there hey, come in. Quick, come in”, he greets you, waving you inside as he steps out of the way, “the weather’s crazy all of a sudden. Shit, look at you. You’re soaked.”
“I’m freezing my ass off. The rain surprised me”, you tell him, “can I put my stuff on the mat?”
“Yeah sure.”
Hoseok locks the door while you shrug off your soaked outdoor clothes and backpack.
“You’re lucky I have increased hearing. I was wearing headphones.”
“Yeah? Did you practice dance?” you ask, taking off your shoes.
Hoseok is already busy spreading your wet jacket on the radiator in order for it to dry quicker. 
“Nope, just making music.”
“That’s cool. You keep talking about it. I wanna listen to your stuff, seriously.”
Hoseok dismisses you with a nonchalant tilt of his head, “soon. It’s not finished yet.”
“You’re a perfectionist. I’m sure it’s already good.”
“Yeah I am, but at least it means that once it’s done, it’s amazing.”
“I can’t argue what that”, say and feel shivers run through you, “brrrr, I’m so cold. And wet. Urgh, I hate the rain.”
“You love rain.”
You laugh, “yeah, I do. I just don’t like it right now.”
Hoseok smiles and chuckles. He nods his head into the direction of the stairs. 
“You know where the bathroom is. You can take a hot shower if you want.”
“This would literally save my life. Thank you”, you say and turn to hurry upstairs, “can I borrow clothes?” 
“Yeah sure. What’s your size again?”
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Spending time at Hoseok’s place feels familiar and safe. You know every nook and cranny, find everything blindly and feel at home in the rooms. It is not only because you spent months in the guestroom during the time Namjoon was still a threat and you hated Yoongi. But it is also because next to the estate, the former Sanguis frat house feels like a second home. You and the others are always welcome here, you are allowed to act at home and the company is always amazing. There are many days where you take a short rest stop at Hoseok’s place before going home. And there are also many days where the others, especially Jungkook, leave the estate to spend time at Hoseok’s instead. In a sense, the cozy townhouse has become an extension of the estate where all of you are always welcome. 
You are in the middle of drying your hair with Hoseok’s dryer when he knocks on the door.
“I’ve put the clothes in front of the door”, he calls out.
“Yes. Thanks”, you call back. 
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Hoseok picked out one of his comfiest sweat suit. He is currently in a phase where he enjoys wearing matching sweat suits sets in the most colourful of combinations and with many accessories bringing the look together. He always looks to die for in them. He picked out a grey coloured sweat suit with neon green accents for you. You saw him wear it before and he looked amazing in it. 
He also laid out a pair of boxers for you and some socks. They are freshly washed because if there is one thing Hoseok is, it is clean. 
The clothes smell just like him and the cologne he always wears. Masculine and clean with a hint of sandalwood at the end. You catch yourself smelling the collar of his hoodie way too vividly, cringing at yourself afterwards because of how embarrassing that was. You couldn’t help yourself. He smells so good. 
Now wrapped in his soft clothes and with your body warmed up, you decide to look for him. Knowing Hoseok, he was back in his home studio. 
It is located on the second floor just past his bedroom and the guestroom Yoongi stayed in all those years ago. The door is closed and you know that knocking is fruitless. You still do, entering his room at the same time. 
“Hobi?”
He doesn’t answer you.
Just like you had thought, Hoseok was lost in his music, nodding his head to the beat of it. You can hear snippets of it escaping his headphones. It sounds as if he was rapping "burn" over and over again. The beat sounds aggressive and perfectly rhythmical.
“Hobi?” you repeat yourself and tap his shoulder. 
He presses pause and takes off his headphones, turning with his chair afterwards.
“Hey there ___”, he says and grins, tilting his head to the side.
“Sorry to disturb you.”
“You’re not”, he assures you and studies you from head to toe, “cute. My clothes fit you well.”
“Thanks”, you say, smoothing over the front, “they smell like you.” 
He grins, “and that means?”
“Nothing”, you mumble and look away. Shit, why did you say that? So embarrassing.
He chuckles and turns back to his desktop. He is wearing a brown sweat suit today, combining some rings and an expensive watch with it. Knowing Hoseok, he would wear some funky glasses and chunky sneakers with it if he were to leave the house. But alas, only a pair of white socks adorns his feet. The latter he currently taps to a silent beat. The song must still be stuck in his head even now that he isn’t playing it.
You take a step closer and point at the screen. Hoseok sneaks a glance up at you. You aren’t aware of it, but like this, your body is touching his upper arm. Your warmth seeps right through your clothes.
“I heard glimpses of the song. It sounded really good”, you say.
Hoseok turns back to you again. Like this, you are between his legs.
“You think so?” he asks, resting his head back against the chair in order to look up at you. His elegant fingers are folded on his stomach.
“Yeah. You sang about burning stuff?” 
“Yeah”, he laughs, “you could say it like that. I still haven’t finished the verses yet. It’s just a guide version for now.”
“It already sounds good.”
“Thanks”, he says and stands up with his eyes running over your face. He steps closer to you, placing his hand on the table beside you, “why are you here?”
“I, I uhm”, you clear your throat, “Hobi, don’t be like that”, you complain and push at his chest.
“Like what?”
“A flirt.”
He laughs, “I’m not flirting. I genuinely wanna know why you’re here.”
“I was on my way home from uni and the rain surprised me. This was closest.” 
“So I wasn’t a reason?”
“You’re always a reason”, you say and nudge him, “silly.”
He laughs and steps back, “are you hungry?”
“Starving actually.”
“Wanna cook together?”
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
“Funky. Let me just save this and then I’m ready.”
“Yeah, take your time. I’m calling Yoongi to let him know that I’ll stay the night here”, you say with your back already turned to him as you leave the room. You can’t see the surprised look Hoseok sends you at the mention of you sleeping over or the faint smile which follows. 
“Sure, tell him”, he says and looks back at his song.
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You walk downstairs as you talk to Yoongi. The latter picks up after the third ring.
“Hey, my princess.”
“Hey, my prince.”
“Are you okay?”
“I am, don’t worry. The rain surprised me.”
“I know, I noticed. I was worried already”, he confesses, making you smile.
“Of course you were. Don’t worry about me, love. I managed to get to Hoseok’s just in time.”
“Thank god, phew”, he exhales loudly, “I can relax now.” 
“Yeah”, you giggle. He’s so cute.
“Are you staying the night? I don’t think the weather’s gonna get any better.” 
“Yeah right? I’ll stay the night if that’s okay.”
“Of course it is. You don’t gotta ask”, he assures you and suddenly you can hear the smirk in his voice, “maybe you’ll end up watching his stuff too, mhm?”
Your heart fluttered in your chest. 
“Yoongi”, you gasp. 
He chuckles deeply, “I’m messing with you.”
“Wah, so mean. I feel hot now.”
“Sorry”, he laughs.
“You’re not.”
“Mhm, no I’m not.”
“So mean”, you mumble and snicker. Yoongi does the same. 
Silence follows, which Yoongi breaks.
“Where are you right now?”
“Kitchen. I’m waiting for Hobi to come down. He’s working on his mixtape.” 
“Mhm, the songs are really good.”
“You heard them?”
“Yeah. He showed me and asked for my input.”
“That’s so unfair. He doesn’t want to show them to me”, you whine.
Yoongi chuckles, “poor woman. You’ll love them once he does.”
“Mhm, I’m sure I will”, you say as your eyes shift to the doorway. Hoseok is finally here, “hey love? Hobi just came. I’m gonna hang up now if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, okay. Tell him hi.”
“Yoongi says hi.”
Hoseok smiles, “thanks Yoongi. I say hi back.” 
“He says hi back.”
“Thanks”, the smile is obvious in Yoongi’s voice, “have fun, love. Yeah?”
Your heart flutters. You know exactly how he meant that.
“So mean”, you mumble, making him laugh, “I’ll have fun”, you add in a chuckle.
“Good. Sweet dreams, princess.” 
“You too, Boongie. I’ll come home for lunch tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll have something prepared.”
“Ooh, now I can’t wait. I love you, Boongie.”
“I love you too, princess.”
“And Yoongi! Before I forget!”
“Yes?”
“Can you tell the others where I am? So they don’t worry.”
“Of course, I’ll tell them.”
“Thank you, love. Okay, bye then.”
“Bye, love.”
You hang up and place the phone aside, smiling to yourself. 
Hoseok, who watched you talk to Yoongi on the phone, sends you a teasing look.
“You’re so whipped for this man”, he coos and nudges your upper arm.
“Yes I am. What about it?” you throw back with a pout.
“Nothing. It’s cute”, he says and points at his fridge, “what you wanna eat? I gotta warn you, I don’t have lots of groceries because I haven’t really eaten lots of human food lately.”
“Really? But you love human food. Are you okay?”
“Very. Just way too preoccupied with the mixtape. I just crack open a blood bag and I’m good. It takes less time.”
“You guys are so lucky that you can choose if you want to eat food or not. I miss out on food once and feel shitty.”
“Yeah right, I guess we are lucky”, he says and sticks his head into the fridge, “what do you wanna eat?”
You close the distance and try to look inside the fridge as well, “what do you have? Oh pesto. We could make pasta with pesto.”
“That sounds good. I think I still have your favourite pasta.”
“Really?”
Hoseok opens the kitchen cabinet and pulls out a package of your favourite pasta.
“Yup”, he says, shaking it.
“Wah Hobi, I love you. This is the best pasta shape ever.”
“Yeah, it’s good. It holds the sauces well.”
“Agreed and it’s the perfect size for my mouth.”
Hoseok snorts, “that’s what she said”, he says, earning himself a nudge to the chest.
“Perv”, you say, but chuckle.
Hoseok snickers and busies himself with getting out the pot and filling it with water. He puts it on the stove and turns the heat on.
“What should we do now that the water needs to boil?” he asks.
“You could show me your songs.”
Hoseok smiles, “why are you so persistent?”
“Because”, you nudge his chest, “I talked to Yoongi and he told me that you show him your songs.”
“Yeah? And?” Hoseok is giggling, which means he’s being playful. 
“Hobi, come on”, you whine, chasing him to grab his waist and squeeze it.
He flees you with minimal effort, letting out squeaky giggles while his hands hold yours in place.
“I’m so curious. Come on, show me”, you whine.
“Fine okay”, he squeaks, “okay, I’ll show you. Just stop tickling me”, he says and pulls you out of the kitchen.
You skip next to him happily, swinging your hands back and forth. Hoseok studies you.
“Why are you so happy?”
“Because I’m gonna hear your music.”
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Hoseok sits you down on his studio chair while he busies himself with turning on the big speakers and subwoofer. You pull your legs up on the chair so you can sit cross-legged and watch him squat down in front of the desk. He rests his chin on it as he clicks away on his computer. 
You place your hands on his shoulders and give him a gentle massage. Hoseok reacts by leaning into you slightly and letting out a deep purr. 
“Okay, this song’s called More. I really like it”, Hoseok explains.
“Is it the one I could hear?” you ask, running your fingertips through the fluffy hair at the nape of his neck.
“No that one’s gonna be called Burn. It’s not done yet.”
“I see. Well then, play it. I’m so excited.”
“Right”, he says and presses play. He gets up and stands next to you with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a stern, almost angry, expression on his face. You glance at him at first, but then concentrate on the song instead. It’s an amazing song. It is not all how you imagined Hoseok’s music to be and you feel terrible that you thought so because as you listened to the hard beat and aggressive guitar riffs between his passionate rapping, you realise just how Hoseok this song is. It is in Korean, which makes understanding the lyrics difficult for you, but you don’t have to understand every word to know that this song means a lot to him.
The song ends. 
You cheer and clap instantly, bouncing in the chair. Hoseok doesn’t react to your cheers. He merely tilts his head to the side in a twitch and clicks his tongue, looking displeased.
“Ah I could add more reverb at one sixty”, he says and leans on the table as he works with a stern expression.
“This was amazing, Hobi. Look, I’ve got goosebumps”, you say, showing off your arm.
“You think so?”
“Yes. It was amazing. It had me totally captured and I wanna listen to the song whenever I do something I need motivation for.”
Hoseok turns and sits down on the edge of the desk. He still has his arms crossed.
“Thanks ___, that means a lot.”
“I’m serious. You’re so talented.”
“Thank you”, his features soften as if he finally starts to like the song as well, “yeah, I’m proud of it”, he says and smiles, “it took me a long time to get there, but it’s a good song. You know, I need my stuff to be perfect and I can’t rest till I’m satisfied.” 
“I know. You’re a perfectionist”, you tease, nudging him in the thigh.
“Yeah true”, he agrees and pushes himself off the table, “we should check on the noodle water.”
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The water is boiling when you enter the kitchen so Hoseok pours in some pasta while you prepare the pesto and a plate for later. You set a timer on your phone, showing it to Hoseok.
“We’ve got around eight minutes to spare. Any more songs you can show me?” 
“No, but I’ve got a living room we can chill in."
You chuckle, “you’re so secretive with your songs.”
“Hey, they have to be perfect. I already stressed out ‘cause you listened to More.”
“Okay, okay I’m not saying anything. For what it’s worth, I genuinely think it’s an amazing song.”
“Yeah? Thanks, uhm”, he flusters and giggles, “shit, you got me giggling. Hah, thanks.”
You chuckle fondly, “you’re cute, Hobi.”
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You eat your pasta in the living room, chatting about everything and anything while outside it storms. You and he clean the kitchen after you finished dinner and then return to the living room for dessert and more chatting. 
You and he share the sofa. Hoseok is sipping on a glass of blood while you opted for hot cocoa. 
“Are you okay?”Hoseok asks, interrupting your monologue about your library experience today. 
“Why are you asking?”
“Cause you’ve been rubbing your shoulders since we sat down.”
“Oh yeah. I guess I’m just a little tense. My backbag was really heavy today and it fucked my shoulders. It hurts.”
“I can massage you.”
“Really?”
Hoseok nods his head.
“Yes please. Oh my god, my saviour”, you say and get off the couch to sit down in front of him. Hoseok hands you a blanket so you can cover your lower body and then he turns so you were between his legs and he could reach your shoulders. 
He rubs his hands together to warm them.
“Should I take off the hoodie?” you ask.
“No it’s fine. I’m starting. Is that okay for you?”
“Yes, it’s okay.”
With your consent, Hoseok places his hands on your shoulders. He begins his massage by rubbing the flat of his palms up and down your shoulders and arms.
“What did you wanna tell me before I interrupted you?” he asks.
“Mhm? Oh yeah! As I was saying, I tried to use the computer to look for the book and it didn’t show me anything.”
“Oh no. How did you find it then?”
Hoseok begins rubbing circles into your shoulders, looking for the tighter areas so he could relax them. 
“That’s when it gets cool because I used magic to find it.” 
“Yo, really?”
“Yes, really. I concentrated really hard and thought of the words Yoongi taught me and then suddenly, I heard a small bell sound.”
“A bell sound?” Hoseok gasps. He is putting pressure into his touches, relaxing the tense areas. They are hard under his fingertips, no wonder you were in pain.
“Yeah seriously, a bell sound. And it became louder the closer I got to the book and then bam.”
Hoseok gasps.
“The book was right there. In front of my eyes.”
“Okay that’s so funky. What the hell?”
You snicker, nodding your head.
“I felt like a real witch then. I almost yelled until I realised I was at the library.”
Hoseok chuckles, “you’re seriously so cool. I know who to call if I ever lose something again.”
“Yes please do. Ah”, you tense up, “ah geez, it hurts.”
“Relax. You’re too tense”, Hoseok says.
“It hurts a lot, you know?”
“I know. You’re really tight in this area”, he says, digging his thumbs into the area.
“I know, ah geez”, you hiss, writhing in discomfort, “no need to break my shoulders, ah.”
“I’m not even using a lot of my strength”, he defends himself and lessens the pressure, “how’s that?”
“Yeah, it’s better. Sorry, I’m a little wimp when it comes to getting massaged.”
“It’s chill. I can be gentle”, he says, rubbing circles into your neck.
You feel yourself shiver. Not only because of the relaxing touches, but also because of his words. You are very well aware that he didn’t mean them in a sexy way, but it’s difficult not to understand them in such a way when Yoongi’s words still run through your mind. You ogle the TV, then the armchair next to it. Yoongi told you what Hoseok did to him on that chair. You fumble with your own fingers, feeling your heart speed up in your chest. Would it be weird to bring it up right now? He is being such a good friend and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable by being a horny slut. You are aware that Hoseok is a very down to fuck kind of guy, but just because he is, doesn’t mean that he always has to be in the mood to be a horndog. He’s just a person after all and a person you love so very dearly.
“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asks, placing his delicate hands on your upper arms, “am I being too rough?”
“W-why do you ask?” you stutter.
“Your heart’s racing”, he says and rubs your arms, “I can stop if you don’t want to anymore.”
“No, I uhm, no. Hah”, you laugh breathily, “sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Okay? Do you wanna tell me?”
“It’s okay. I don’t wanna make you feel weird.”
“Dude, now you gotta tell me. You can’t just say that. I’m a nosy bastard”, he says, pushing you gently. He laughs.
You laugh, swaying back and forth.
“Yeah I guess”, you say.
“So? Tell me”, he encourages you.
You turn and lift your head so you can look up at him. Hoseok switches between looking into your right and left eye, letting his hands tangle between his legs.
“You gotta pinky promise not to be weird”, you say, lifting your hand.
Hoseok hooks his pinky finger with yours, “promise”, he says and seals it by pressing his thumb against yours, “now open your mouth and talk. You’re making me nervous.”
You lower your hand and take a deep breath, “I’d be down to watch your movies”, you say.
Hoseok gawks at you. His mouth falls open. The silence is intense. His eyes are almost round from how widely he opens them. His reaction is understandable and adorable.
“If you’d be down that is”, you add, giving him a little lopsided smile afterwards.
“I uh”, he lets out and blinks quickly. His air leaves him in a breathy laugh, his right hand comes to touch his chest, “a-are, are you sure?”
You nod your head, “I’m curious what all the talk is about”, you say and scoot closer to nudge his chest, “you’ve got Yoongi still talking about what you guys did that night.”
Hoseok exhales in a laugh and turns his head to the side. His hand shoots up to rub the side of his neck, coyness washes over his features.
“He does?”
“Yeah, totally. You know what he told me on the phone today?”
Hoseok shakes his head. He still isn’t looking at you, fumbling with his own ear nervously.
“That maybe you’ll show me your stuff and that I should have fun. You’ve seriously messed him up back then.”
“Yo dude that’s just- yo”, Hoseok says and stumbles off the couch, running his hands through his fluffy hair. He laughs, but it sounds nervous and so not at all like Hoseok.
“What’s wrong?” you ask him, following him with your eyes. He is prancing up and down, rubbing the nape of his neck.
“You’re messing with me, that’s what up. You?” he looks at you with widened eyes.
“What about me?”
“Outta all the people coming here begging for a fuck, you’d be last I expected this from.”
“Why?” you ask in a chuckle, “you’ve got Yoongi talking about it and Kook mentioning it when I fuck him dumb. I wanna see what the deal is about. Besides, I was just asking if we could watch your stuff, I never mentioned sex.”
Hoseok scoffs, “sure ___.”
You cross your arms in front of your chest and pout, “we don’t have to do it you know? Wow, I feel so attacked right now.”
Hoseok studies you for a moment.
“Yeah uhm, give me a moment”, he says and then leaves the room.
You boil in your loneliness, feeling like dying would be less awkward than what just happened. Out of all the reactions you expected Hoseok to have, pure shock and the need to flee wasn’t one of them. You expected gloating, pride, happiness and cocky teasing, but not for him to run away. You touch your own chest because the embarrassment you feel sits heavy in your chest. This was the most humiliating shit you ever pulled. Fuck, you want to dissolve into thin air.
You pull out your phone to text Yoongi and ask him if he could come pick you up, but before you can, Hoseok is back in the room. He is carrying a translucent hard plastic box filled with cassettes and DVDs.
“Sorry it took me a while, I had to make sure the collection’s complete”, he says and puts the box on the coffee table in front of you, “I still got a box upstairs. Let me get it”, he says and disappears again.
You have never felt lighter before. All the embarrassment from before is gone from your chest. He didn’t quit on you, he just got his stuff. You sit down on the edge of the sofa and begin looking through the box. The movies seem to be from the nineties and two thousands. He’s on a few covers. Naked and with a hard-on. You try not to look at it even if you were literally moments away from watching him fuck on TV.
“Okay, I think this should be everything now. I’ve also got my Only Fans, but you have to subscribe to see that stuff”, Hoseok says and places the second box next to the first one. The box was filled with DVDs and hard drives. He sits down next to you, close enough that your legs were touching, “see anything you like?” he asks, placing his arm around you. He doesn’t let it touch you, instead he just makes you hyperaware of its presence behind you. You feel yourself fluster because Hoseok has never been that close to you with an underlying sexual intention. Of course you and he hug and cuddle as friends, but initiating touch with the near future of fucking is new to you.
You turn your head to him. Hoseok meets your eyes. You and he are just inches away from kissing. The close proximity makes you feel giddy. He’s got really pretty eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, studying your eyes and then your lips.
“Nothing.”
“Nervous?”
You look away, “shut up.”
“Wah look at you”, Hoseok coos and bumps his chest into you playfully, “moments ago you wanted to watch my stuff and now you’re nervous about it.”
“Dude, shut up”, you complain.
Hoseok giggles and pulls you into him with a strong arm just so he can shake you around a little.
“Look at you being nervous.”
“Shut up”, you whine, “I’ll punch you in the balls, I’m serious.”
“Hey, hey don’t ruin what’ll benefit you later. My balls are precious cargo, ___.”
You roll your eyes, shoving him off of you, “you’re annoying.”
“Why? I’m just saying.”
“Urgh whatever”, you say and look back into the boxes.
Hoseok scoots closer and reaches into the first box. He pulls out a DVD. He is on the cover, oiled up and with his dick in his hands. You are looking right at it if you wanted to or not. It’s well-shaped, an impressive length and just girthy enough that you have to do a double take. It almost looks – to put it frankly – just a little bit out of place on him. He is a very petite guy, slender and fit, and his cock looks almost massive on his body. His elegant fingers look so small around it.
“Your dick’s huge, dude. What the hell?”
Hoseok laughs, “right? It’s my vampire cock though. People never noticed, but it comes in handy when you can grow your dick.”
“I can imagine. For porn it’s practical”, you say and glance at his face. 
He meets your eyes.
“I hope you know that this is really fucking awkward for me.”
He chuckles, “it’s not awkward for me.”
“I know. You’re an exhibitionist.”
“Right”, he nudges you gently, “don’t be awkward. It’s just me naked and very hard.”
He makes you laugh which lessens the awkwardness. 
“Yeah, right that’s the issue here. You’re my best friend and now I’m looking at your boner. I really didn’t think this through. Dude, that’s what happens when you massage me, I say stuff.”
“I’m your best friend?” he sounds moved. 
“Yeah. Well. Technically Yoongi’s like my bestest friend, but you’re my best friend. You know?”
“This just got really emotional right now. Thank you, ___”, he says and drapes his arm over you to pull you into a soft temple kiss. 
You lean into it, feeling good about it.
“You’re one of my best friends too”, he says and gives you a little squeeze, “we don’t have to do this, you know? It’s okay if you changed your mind.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna stop. I just have to live with the fact that now I know how huge your dick is.”
He laughs and lifts the DVD into your vision, “wanna know why I picked this?” 
“Cause your cock’s huge?”
He laughs, “no it’s because this is the movie I watched with Yoongi that got him all horny”, he says and flips the cover. His co-star is on the back, showing off his oiled-up hole. You do another double take not for cock reasons, but because the actor looks way too similar to Yoongi. Hoseok, who saw your eyes flit back for a second glimpse, grins, “you’re seeing it too, aren’t you?”
“I do. What the hell?” you gasp, grabbing the cover to get a closer look, “are sure that that’s not Yoongi and he just erased your memories back then?”
Hoseok laughs, “it could be a theory. But no, that’s Niragi. We did a few films together, but then lost contact.”
“It’s crazy how similar they look. Except for maybe their holes.”
Hoseok snort laughs, “___”, he gasps and nudges you.
You snicker, glancing at him, “I’m just saying. Yoongi’s not that loose.”
“I know. I felt it”, Hoseok says and looks at your lips.
You feel it, just as you feel your heart speed up because of it.
“We could watch that if you want”, he whispers.
“Intriguing, but I wanna see you act with a woman. Got something that looks like me?”
He chuckles, “babygirl, no one’s ever come close to your beauty”, he partially jokes.
You roll your eyes and nudge his chest, “sweet talker.”
He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. He gives your lips one last hungry gaze then finally looks back into the boxes, “I’ve got something you could like. You like female gaze stuff, don’t you?”
“Do I give off those vibes?”
“With the men you date? Yeah.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask in a laugh.
“They’re at your feet worshipping your every step. I’d be surprised if they even as much as called you bad girl in bed.”
You snort, “you’d be surprised then.”
“Mhm, surprise me”, Hoseok purrs and pulls out a black hard drive, “that’s where the good shit is”, he says and stands up, “get ready for a good show ‘cause I fucked like rent’s due in this movie.”
“I’m expecting great things, you know that don’t you?”
Hoseok squats down in front of his TV.
“Yeah, I do”, he glances at you over his shoulder. He lifts it after a second and giggles, “shit, I’m nervous now. You’re gonna watch my shit.”
You study him. He is so attractive to you right now. Shit, you’re getting horny. It’s so easy to get you turned on.
“Or, I don’t know, we could skip the movie and make out instead?”
Hoseok hesitates. Hoseok takes a deep breath. Hoseok looks at your lips. And Hoseok places the hard drive aside just to stand up and hurry to you. He falls to his knees in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. Like this, you are almost face to face, sharing intense silence and even more intense eye contact.
“Is this a yes?” you ask him.
He nods his head, looking at your lips.
You move in, but Hoseok moves back.
“Mhm?” you are confused.
“I just need to know that this isn’t gonna ruin what we have”, he says. You never heard him with such seriousness in his voice before, “I like you so much and I don’t wanna lose you just ‘cause of one night. If tonight’s gonna fuck us up, I don’t wanna continue.”
“It’s not gonna ruin it for me. You?”
“It’s not gonna ruin it, no fuck”, he laughs breathily, “fuck, I wanted to make out with you for ages. Not that I’m one of those desperate dudes thinking they’re friendzoned, it’s just that I kiss my friends if they’re into it. Or fuck them. And show them my porn.”
You laugh, “I know, Hobi. We’re not traditional. None of us.”
“Yeah, it’s the fucking best”, he says and moves in, cupping your cheek with both hands. His nose brushes yours, your heart skips a beat. He is looking at your lips as he talks, caressing your cheeks, “one last chance.”
“Shut up, Hobi”, you whisper and pull him in with your hand at the nape of his neck.
Hoseok stumbles into you, moaning against your lips as he scrambles to find your rhythm. You didn’t give him a difficult rhythm to follow, no, Hoseok is just simply overwhelmed by the sensation of feeling your lips on his’.
You pull back. Hoseok is looking at your lips with half-lidded eyes and a faint smile.
“Did you brush your teeth?” you ask him.
“Yeah”, he says and pulls you back into the kiss. His hand comes in contact with the side of your face before naturally gliding down to hold the side of your neck. His fingers are long enough that you can feel them brush against the nape of your neck. The touch sends the biggest shivers down your spine.
You moan into the kiss and hook your arms behind his head, tangling your fingers deep in his hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be and that means a lot because you imagined it to be soft. Hoseok also kisses so much better than you imagined him to kiss. He knows just when to give your lips a little suck, when to involve his teeth and when to let you do your thing. His tongue also knows exactly when to trace your lips to make you crave more.
“Shit, you’re so good”, Hoseok murmurs between kissing you, standing up with his arms hooked under your legs. He lifts you off the couch easily, purring deeply when you press yourself closer and bite his lower lip. You are squirming in his arms. Just as Hoseok had thought. You’re into getting carried.
He bounces you in his arms and finally allows his tongue to stay involved for longer than a small trace. You moan, meeting his kisses with eagerness. His lips are so soft, he tastes so good and whenever he bounces you there is friction against your pussy. 
Hoseok purrs, walking with a dizzy head. He is so happy for his vampire senses right now, because you are stealing his sanity. This isn’t the first kiss you and he shared, but it feels like it to him. The night at the masquerade ball is a memory in his mind these days. It happened so many years ago and is tainted by the fun influence of alcohol. But this isn’t the result of alcohol, this is untainted and real. Hoseok almost stumbles up the stairs because he’s so excited.
He stops once he is upstairs, pressing you against the wall to break the kiss.
“Shit baby. Can I call you baby for tonight?” he rasps and begins kissing neck.
You roll your head back, revealing your vulnerable spots to him.
“Yeah, you can”, you sigh, playing with his hair and sending shivers down his spine in the process.
“You’re so fucking hot, baby. Fuck”, Hoseok moans. His breath tickles your skin, his lips follow. It feels so good that you can’t stop gasping and squirming in his arms.
There was another occasion where you and he shared a kiss. Back when Alpha was still evil and you still hated Yoongi, you came to Hoseok’s room to comfort him after a fight with Yoongi. You and Hoseok talked and somehow the conversation shifted into you giving him a kiss. Back then, Hoseok was high after smoking too much weed and the kiss felt blurry to him.
Tonight feels like fucking ecstasy to him. He is clear in the head and gets to kiss you so fucking passionately. He growls, letting his fangs grace your skin. This is turning him on so fucking bad. He sucks needily.
“Ah, Hobi”, you gasp, arching your back.
The contact breaks because he pulled back.
“Sorry, fuck”, he apologises, kissing the tender spot. He got too excited and sucked a hickey onto your skin. Now the spot is pulsating in sensitivity, “fuck, I can’t believe this is real. You’re so fucking sexy. Fuck, baby”, he growls and rolls his hips into you. His clothed cock grinds against your clothed pussy, sending electric tingles through your bodies.
You and he moan at the same time. You pull him closer while he chases you with another thrust.
You tug his head up by his hair and give him a second of droopy eye contact before you push him onto your lips. He finds your rhythm instantly, sharing the sloppiest tongue kisses with you. He growls into you, breaking away from the wall to carry you to his room. It’s not far anymore and he needs you under him.
He doesn’t bother closing the door because it’s just you and him in this big house. Nobody can run in on you and it doesn’t matter if the door is closed or not, he’ll have you screaming for him either way. No door will keep the noises out.
He places you on top his bed and steps back to take off his shirt. He throws it onto the ground, looking at you with lowered eyes.
“Couldn’t you have turned the lights on?” you ask in a chuckle.
“Ah yeah, sorry I forgot you can’t see in the dark”, he says and turns on his bedside lamp, "better?" 
You look at him instantly, letting your eyes run up and down his torso. Hoseok falls into a pose instantly, taking off his sweats as he does. He keeps his briefs on. They’re the bikini cut type, dark blue and bulging in the front. He is very obviously hard, forcing your eyes to stay on his crotch.
“You’re so hot”, you say, writhing needily.
“Thanks”, he says and climbs onto bed. He takes the spot above you, claiming your lips in a kiss. He keeps his left hand rested beside your head while his right hand dances down your body to play with the hem of your sweats. Your lips tremble against his’, your hands touch his chest. He breaks the kiss but keeps close, “is that okay for me to do?”
“Yeah” you allow him, lifting your hips.
“Thank you. You can always stop this”, he says and takes off your pants.
“I know. You too”, you tell him, writhing needily.
Hoseok wastes no time and takes off your boxers as well, throwing them on the bed beside him. The hoodie he borrowed you is long enough that it covers your pussy. You squirm on the sheets, pressing your thighs together as best as possible. 
“Nervous?” he asks.
“A little. You?”
“Yeah, dude”, he laughs breathily, “I’m so fucking nervous. I could shit myself.”
You laugh, “please don’t.”
He snickers, “mhm no, I won’t”, he whispers and kisses your neck. 
You close your eyes, rolling your head to the side as a happy sigh slips past your lips. 
Hoseok pushes your legs apart with his knees, running his right hand down your torso while his left is propped up beside your head. He listens to your heartbeat for any kind of change. It is racing and increases in speed the further down his hand dances. 
Hoseok nudges your head so it rolls to the other side and he can kiss your neck there. You purr softly, squirming under him. Your pulse is fluttering. Hoseok moves closer to your pussy. Your heart skips a beat. He swerves past your heat and feels up your inner thighs instead.
Up and down. Up and down. Hoseok traces your soft skin with just his fingertips. He comes close enough to your pussy that you know his touch is there and yet never close enough that you can feel it. It’s making you squirm more and more. 
You reach up, placing your hands on his chest.
“Hobi”, you sigh, sliding your fingers to his nipples. You rub them gently, eliciting a deep purr from him.
“Mhm keep going. I like it”, he rasps and bites your earlobe softly, “is it okay for me to touch your pussy?”
“Yes, is okay. You fucking tease”, you allow him, rolling your hips up.
“Mhm yeah”, he agrees and dances his fingers up your inner thigh.
You shiver. The thought that soon you will feel his touch is making his fingers feel so much better on your skin. 
Hoseok touches you.
“Ah”, you let out, feeling his chest vibrate in a deep purr. His fingers part you for him, starting off at your entrance and painting a path up to your clit. He does a swirl when he’s reached her, then dances his fingers down to your entrance again. It is a gentle touch, barely any pressure is involved. You have to keep squirming because these kinds of touches always feel so much more intense. 
Hoseok puts distance between your neck and his lips. He studies your face and how you have it scrunched in pleasure. He takes a shaky breath, bundling the sheets next to your head. He’s so into this.
“I wanna taste you”, he confesses, “is it ok-” 
“Yeah…” you interrupt him in a breathy voice and your body writhing sensually.
“Shit, you’re hot”, he rasps and abandons you for the sake of shimmying down. He kneels by the bed and wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face.
He looks up. Your eyes are focused on the ceiling, you are breathing heavily. Pretty. He thinks you’re so pretty. 
He switches his gaze to your pussy. Your sweetened scent is taking up his senses. He lowers his eyes halfway, running them over your exposed heat. Kissing made you wet. It sticks to you and waits to be devoured. 
“So fucking pretty”, Hoseok growls deeply and connects his mouth with your pussy. 
He drags his tongue through your folds, starting on your entrance until he reaches your clit. You gasp, hold your breath and release it in a quiet whimper. 
Hoseok purrs, pressing his tongue against you. He shakes his head, grinding on you this way. This is still a warm up. He’s barely began. You’re so sweet and he needs all of it on his tongue. No wonder your boys are obsessed. Hoseok feels himself get addicted as well. 
He stops shaking his head and moves it so his tongue dances up your pussy. He flicks it against your clit, feeling your thighs twitch in reaction. So he does it again. He flicks his tongue against your clit quickly, holding your thighs as they begin trembling. 
“Oh god”, you whisper and reach for his hair. You stop yourself. You drop your hand. 
“It’s okay. Hold on if you need it”, he allows you and uses the moment to also praise you, “your pussy tastes so good. Fuck, I wanna devour you.” 
“O-oh god”, you stutter out and writhe. 
“Mhm, so sweet”, Hoseok purrs, burying his face back in your heat. His nose is grinding against you as he sucks on your clit. He keeps you pinned with his strong arms around your thighs, making you take every single second of the hungry feast. 
You whimper and reach for his hair to grab it desperately. Your other arm lies itself over your own eyes. 
“Fuck. Hoseok….”
Hoseok closes his eyes and moans into you. He releases your clit, slurping up his drool running down your folds. You tug and twist his hair, trembling in his hold. 
“Hold onto me, that’s it. Good girl”, he lulls his words because you’ve got him pussy drunk. It’s only been a few moments, Hoseok is aware, but he fucking loves eating pussy. Especially when that pussy belongs to his pretty best friend with her pretty moans and prettier taste. 
Hoseok lowers himself for the sake of burying his tongue in your pussy. His long fingers grip your hips and tilt them for easier access. His nose is pressed against you, grinding into you each time he fucks his tongue deep. 
“Hoseok oh god”, you get out and choke out a moan, arching your back because it’s impossible to stay still when he is filling you up like this. 
He breaks away, letting his spit connect himself with you. 
“So fucking sweet, baby. You’ve got such a heavenly pussy”, he praises and spits on her for contrast.
“Ah”, you flinch at the feeling, writhing seconds later when Hoseok slurps up the sinful mess, “Hobi please.”
Hoseok moans, looking up at you again. You’re begging. You’re that type of person. He slips his hand into his briefs to get his cock out because the revelation makes his cock ache. He jerks it off desperately, fucking his tongue deep into your sweet pussy. Those people are his favourites. Oh so ruined by pleasure they start begging without knowing what they’re even begging for. He fucking loves them. 
Fuck, he wants to drag every single plea from your tongue. Hoseok furrows his brows and growls against you, speeding up his tongue as he presses himself as close as possible. 
“Oh god, please”, you keen, twisting his hair. Your thighs close around his head. You have to grab more of him or otherwise you are losing yourself. He is so fast and sloppy. And so chillingly cool. Because he only consumed blood bags lately, his skin is cold to the touch and yet his mouth carries enough warmth to give you a constant change of temperature. One second his cold nose is grinding against your clit and in the next, his hot tongue follows. The contrast is keeping you on edge and desperate for more. 
“Please ah”, you beg and grab his wrist. 
Hoseok untangles his left hand from your thigh, sliding it together with your hand. You squeeze him instantly. Your palm is damp and hot.
You writhe and shake, pressing out another plea.
Hoseok growls, looking up at you with darkened eyes. You’re so fucking precious. Look at you needing to hold his hand. You are squeezing him oh so desperately that he wonders if you want to never let go again. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles in soothing and begins concentrating his licks on your clit. 
No more playing around. He needs you shaking. 
He switches between licking your clit and sucking on it, combining the two sensations until they become this electric blend of never ending pleasure.
“This is gonna make me cum”, you get out and whimper, writhing on the sheets. 
Good. Hoseok wants you to climax. This is all he is working towards right now. Your sweet, sweet orgasm on the tip of his tongue. Hoseok dreamed about it for years. He hate fucks his own fist in desperation, making love to your pussy in contrast. 
“Hobi this is- ah”, you press out and shudder. You tug at his hair, closing your thighs tighter around his head. 
He can hear your blood rush deep inside your muscles. It is rushing and pulsating oh so fucking quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut and sucks your clit between his lips to keep it there and swirl his tongue over it.
“Ah”, you get out and grow silent. You tense up before growing slack within the blink of an eye. Your pussy begins throbbing under his tongue. He’s got you. 
“Oh god, ah”, you mewl, filling the air with squeaky moans afterwards. This feels so good. Your legs feel like jello, the heat in your pussy is unbearable. He’s got you climaxing so fucking hard that you actually feel too ruined to keep breathing.
You grab his hair and fuck your hips up against his face, needing it to last so much fucking longer. 
Hoseok lets you hump his face with desperate moans leaving him. He keeps his tongue stuck out, basking in every new layer of sweetness you cover his nose with. Shit, he won’t get rid of your scent for days. It’s so deeply burned into him. Hoseok’s in fucking heaven, soiling his hand in his excitement. He isn’t orgasming, he is just very leaky. 
“Oh go-god”, you soon drop into the sheets, shuddering in the aftermaths of your high. Your fingers fall from his hair and let go of his hand, “holy fuck.” 
Hoseok purrs and gives your clit a kiss. He sucks on her one last time even if you flinch in overstimulation. You had to take it, Hoseok needed one last reminder of your sweet taste. 
“Good girl”, he rasps and smiles, “you’re such a good girl, babygirl.”
You mewl quietly, squirming from the praise. 
Hoseok drops your thighs for the sake of feeling up your sides as he kisses a path up to your face. His hard cock keeps leaking onto you as he goes. He can’t help it, he’s so fucking needy for more.
He kisses your neck. You press into him instantly, rolling your head to the side until your nose brushes against his cheek. 
Hoseok lifts his head, meeting your droopy gaze. You smile and giggle. Hoseok feels his tummy flutter. He gives you his prettiest heart-shaped smile and a little giggle with a nose scrunch. 
“We just did that”, you say.
“Yeah right. I loved it”, he says.
“Me too”, you confess and touch his mouth.
Hoseok lets you with bated breath and parted lips. You are so mesmerised by his lips, looking so utterly enchanted by them.
“Your lips are pretty”, you whisper and trace one specific spot repeatedly, “you’ve got a mole there. It’s pretty.”
“Uhm”, Hoseok lets out and lowers his head because he’s actually flustered.
You snicker and drop your hand to instead touch his wrist.
“Can I suck your cock?” 
Hoseok lifts his head again in shock, “sorry?”
“Can I suck your cock? I promise I won’t bite it off.”
He laughs, feeling his entire body tingle in butterflies. You snicker, gazing up at him with sparkly, yet lustful eyes. 
“Can I?” you ask, tracing his pecs with your nails. His nipples harden instantly, throbbing oh so needily when you brush your fingers over them.
“Fuck, I’m fucked what the fuck”, he lets out and rolls off of you.
“Why?” you ask, straddling his lap.
Hoseok sits up, gripping your hips. Your wet pussy is dripping onto his thigh, your weight is like heaven on his lap. He gazes up at you, drinking in every fucking inch of your face.
“I’m so fucking into you that it’s giving me butterflies”, he whispers.
“Good”, you say and push him down by his chest. He falls, letting out a breathy moan as his back hits the sheets. His hair is ruffled, his hands fall on each side of his head and stay there.
“Stay”, you order and crawl off of him. You run your hands down his body and take off his briefs as you go, eliciting goosebumps to the surface of his skin. He moans quietly, chasing your touch with squirms.
“Feels good”, he whispers and rolls his hips up in synch with your hands parting his legs by rubbing his inner thighs, “ah, yeah feels really good. Hah”, he lets out and laughs breathily.
Hoseok’s bed is low enough that you can kneel comfortably and reach his cock. You do so, dragging him to the edge as you fall to your knees. Hoseok mewls in reaction, gasping for fucking air. His body is burning up. You are fucking messing with him. Your knees hit the floor. The fluffy rug under you gives extra cushioning.
You reach the end of his inner thighs, rubbing circles into the spot where his groin blends into them. Hoseok parts his legs further. His cock twitches needily. You can also watch how his chest begins heaving up and down as his breathing speeds up in excitement.
You glide your right hand to his cock, placing your palm against the upper side of it while your fingers stay stretched. You don’t want to give him too many touches yet. You want your tongue to be the first thing he feels.
Hoseok sucks in air.
You move in and connect your tongue with his base, licking up a thick, wet stripe along the underside of his cock until ending it with a quick flick on his tip.
“Shit”, Hoseok releases his air in a breathy moan, closing his fingers around the sheets right next to his head. He can barely grip them, but it has to be enough. Your tongue feels like fucking heaven on his cock and he’s already burning up.
You hum and drag your tongue down his cock again, swirling it over his balls to get a good feel of them. His skin is soft and cool against your tongue. He throbs at the first contact, making you want more because it was so delicious to have him throb for you. You suck the sensitive skin of his balls between your lips just long enough that it stings a little.
Hoseok reacts in a throaty moan and his hips squirming restlessly. You release him again, guiding your wet tongue up his cock in repeated small, yet terribly sloppy licks. It results in his shaft getting all slickened with your spit. You use it to finally wrap your fingers around him and jerk him off, taking his cockhead between your lips at the same time.
“A-ah”, Hoseok moans, reaching down to grab the back of your head. His hips buck up, forcing his cock to glide over your tongue, and drops his hips again, which almost makes his cock flop out of your greedy mouth.
You let him hold your head. He clearly needs it. You force down the cocky smirk and instead hum around him as you begin bopping your head up and down his cock. You jerk off what you decide not to fit inside right now and dance your left hand up his torso until you can play with his nipples.
Hoseok is moaning so much. He tries not to be too loud, but he genuinely can’t stop his voice from working. He gasps for air and each time he exhales, it happens naturally that he makes the neediest of sounds.
You like what he does. You find great enjoyment in making men noisy for you. There is something very satisfying about using your mouth or hands to turn an otherwise well-spoken man into a moaning mess. Somehow making Hoseok moan feels even more satisfying to you. It is as if you want to prove something to him and show off with what you can do, so hearing him be so incredibly noisy feels as if you are being very successful.
You slip off of him for a moment, spitting on his cock just to pick it up with your hand and spread it in quick movements.
“Holy shit”, Hoseok whispers and arches off the sheets, “ah, a-ah what the fuck?”
His legs are shaking and he can’t do anything against it. Not many people manage to do that to him. Hoseok drops his hand from your head to instead grip the sheets and twist them. His cock twitches and throbs so nicely between your fingers, leaking translucent desperation which aches to be tasted.
“What the actual fuck?” he gets out and squeaks in a moan.
You purr and take him back inside, sucking off his wetness until he writhes under you. Now with his tip incredibly sensitive, you finally take him inside as deep as you can.
Hoseok moans your name and throws his head back, resulting in the sheets to crinkle and his chest to stick up into the air. Your fingers can’t reach his nipples this way, but you don’t mind. You take his balls between your fingers instead, fondling them as your throat jerks off his cock.
“You’re making me cum”, he gets out and groans. His right foot meets your thigh as somehow in his shakes, he manages to step on you. He doesn’t slip off, instead he uses the leverage to arch his back. He gasps, throbbing deep inside your mouth, “I’ll cum in your mouth, it’s gon-gonna happen, ah fuck.”
You moan around him, sending vibrations through his cock.
“Now, ah ___”, Hoseok moans and drops in the sheets as his orgasm takes a hold of him. He twitches and throbs inside you, covering your throat with his warm cum until it gets too much to hold and it trickles out of you. You slurp and suck hungrily, using the excess cum to jerk his cock.
Hoseok is quiet for eight seconds and then his voice finally comes back to him in a guttural growl, “holy fuuuck. What the fuuuck? Shiiit.”
He rolls his hips up needily, riding out the electric waves until the fire takes a hold of him.
“Fuck, okay. Stop”, he says, flinching in overstimulation.
You suck and suck on his tip even if it’s burning up.
“Stop please”, he begs, touching your head with trembling fingers, “hurts. Stop. Please.”
You slide off of him with a delicious moan and swallow, licking your lips just to get the droplets he left outside as well. He tastes so sweet. It’s insane how yummy vampires are. It’s like they are begging to be feasted upon. How paradisically ironic.
“Holy shit, ___. What the fuck was that?” Hoseok gets out as his legs twitch in the aftershocks.
“What do you mean? I sucked your cock”, you act oblivious on purpose, kissing paths up his thighs.
“You made my legs shake.”
“And?”
Hoseok sits up and cups your face just to pull you to your feet and therefore into a kiss. He uses his powers to get you on top of the bed and under him again. His knee is between your legs, his hands are restless on your body. He is moaning greedily, licking into your mouth as if he wanted to taste himself on you. You let him, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as your hips naturally begin squirming on his thigh. Shit, sucking his cock made you so wet. You can feel it sticking to his skin. You squirm harder, chasing the sensations. It feels so good to grind on him.
“What the fuck”, Hoseok breaks the kiss to instead very sloppily suck on your neck, “what the fuck? I’m done. That’s how you suck cock?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Dude, no wonder you’ve got your men wrapped around your fingers. Holy shit”, he babbles and shivers, “you’ve got me shivering in the aftershock. My legs never shake like this.”
“Mhm good”, you purr and squirm sensually.
“You’re fucking insane”, he rasps and reaches between your bodies. He can feel how wet you are and he is still hard as ever. You’ve also messed with his mind enough that he can’t think clearly anymore. All he wants is to fuck your pussy. The proper, respectful Hoseok is gone. You’ve turned him feral with your tongue. He shifts so his hips were between your legs and then drags his heavy cock through your folds. They feel so wet and puffy around his tip, moving right around him as he guides his cock against you.
“Oh? Ah”, you gasp and open your eyes, meeting his gaze, “Hobi…” you get out, scratching down the back of his neck just to grab his shoulders in the end.
His eyes are glowing red. His ivory cheeks are covered in black veins. You rarely see him in his vampiric state, so this is properly messing you up.
“I wanna take you”, he says and slaps his cockhead against your clit repeatedly. It sounds wet, makes you flinch and moan softly with each impact, “do you want me to?”
You nod your head, “yes.”
Hoseok gives your clit one last spank, then drags his cock down to your soaked entrance. He applies pressure and slips in without resistance.
“Holy fuck”, you and he get out at the same time, resulting in your eyes to meet knowingly.
“Jinx”, you joke and laugh softly.
Hoseok’s lips curl into a fond smile. He chuckles and tilts his head to the side, using the movement to lower himself to your face.
“Kidding, you can talk”, you say, making him laugh just as much as he moans. It results in those really deep, sexy chuckles, the kind which really messes with your sanity.
“You’re too much”, he rasps and bottoms out. He stays like this for a moment, closing his eyes to really enjoy how your walls pulsate and throb around him. He can also feel your heartbeat in them. It’s a vampire thing and means that it takes everything inside of Hoseok not to let his cock grow. He doesn’t know if your boys give you their vampire cocks and just in case they don’t, he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Oh how sweetly naïve he is.
He furrows his brows and purrs deeply, nodding his head as if he agreed with what is happening right now.
“Yeah, you’re definitely fucking incredible”, he says and peels his eyes open halfway, “can I move?”
“Yeah. Move.”
With your consent, Hoseok finally picks up a rhythm. He really drags out his strokes, including a skilled roll of his hips each time he bottoms out. He knows that he doesn’t need to go fast to make you gasp.
And it works. Two strokes in and you release your first gasp, closing your eyes instinctively as his cock fucks the hottest electricity to the surface.
“How’s that, baby?” he asks in a whisper as his hand caresses the top of your head gently.
You nod your head, giving him a little mewl.
“Mhm, it’s fucking amazing for me too”, he says and closes his eyes, “shit, you feel so good.”
He straightens up, pressing his right hand into the pillow and grabbing a bundle of it. His muscles tense and shift under his ivory skin. The red neon lights really accentuate how strong he was despite his lean frame. He meets your eyes, feeling his stomach tighten in excitement. You look so blissed out, staring up at him with heavy, half-lidded eyes. He gives you a smile, overwhelming you with it to the point where your eyes roll back and close and you let out a needy whimper. You writhe under him, reaching up to grab his wrist.
“You’re so fucking pretty, holy shit”, Hoseok rasps and tenses his jaw.
“Harder”, you breathe.
“Yeah?”
You nod your head, wiggling your hips.
“Fuck baby, that’s hot”, Hoseok moans and gets to his knees. He lifts your legs and wraps them around his waist. You mewl under him, gawking up at him with foggy eyes. The stretch follows seconds later when Hoseok buries his girthy cock in your puffy pussy, bottoming out with a sensual roll of his hips and a deep purr rumbling in his chest.
“Hobi…”
“That’s it, take me”, he speaks in a deep voice, keeping you pinned with his ruby eyes, “take a deep breath for me, babygirl.”
You follow, feeling your mind scramble when Hoseok smiles proudly.
“Good job, babygirl. Keep breathing”, he praises and rewards you with deep strokes.
Your breath shudders, your senses blur. He is so rough in his movements and yet they are still so gentle. It is difficult to describe other than that Hoseok knows how to move his fucking hips and he is currently making sure you know that he can.
“That’s it, babygirl. That’s it, keep breathing”, he rasps, sliding his hand to your lower tummy so he can apply gentle pressure.
You writhe and mewl loudly, squeezing your eyes shut. You can feel his cock reshape your insides. He is so fucking deep. Oh god, you are so sensitive inside that every time he bottoms out, you feel fiery pleasure in your entire stomach.
“Fuck, your pussy’s so fucking tight like this. Gotta stretch it all out with my fat cock, mhm?” he taunts, making you whine in both embarrassment and pleasure. He’s got the dirtiest tongue. You feel yourself soaking his cock in reaction.
Hoseok pulls out to the tip, dragging it through your swollen folds. Once, twice, a third time to really mess with your mind. He pushes back inside and gives you his whole length with a harsh thrust. The kind of thrust which knocks a sound out of you and produces the most sinful of slapping sound. You could even feel his heavy balls hit your ass.
“Please…please…”
He moans in bliss from hearing you beg, showing you just how good he can reshape you by pulling out to his tip and fucking into you again. Harshly, just like before. He doesn’t stop after one thrust, keeping the rhythm going as his long fingers slip to your clit to begin circling her.
“Ah! Oh god! Hob-ah a-ah.”
“Feels good, babygirl?”
“Ye-yeah, yeah, yeah”, he fucks the words out of you. You try to nod your head, but you just end up shaking it around on the sheets rather clumsily. It gives your hair such a sexy messiness to it, “yes. Yes, yes, yes please don’t stop”, you chant, clenching around him.
“I won’t. I can do this for hours”, he rasps and fills you with his cock oh so deep.
Hoseok drinks up the view like an obsessed connoisseur. Fuck, you’re the sweetest artwork he ever looked at. He’s got you, doesn’t he? After years and years of imagining how it might be to fuck you, he’s finally got you. And it’s fucking better than any fantasy he could have ever thought up.
“It feels so goo-good”, you sob, spilling tears from the corners of your eyes.
“‘Feels good for me too. Fuck”, Hoseok spits the last word, falling to his hand so he was right above you. Your hips tilt up, allowing his cock to pound you in a better angle. His right hand is still playing with your clit, keeping her throbbing and sensitive. His weight is on you, keeping you where he needs you to be. Wrapped around him and stuffed with cock.
“Hobi”, you mewl, spilling new tears because everything just feels too good.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, yes ah yes.”
“Fuck, I love hearing that”, he moans, “you’re driving me insane”, he adds and kisses you. He can’t take it anymore. He needs to taste your moans, your sobs and gasps for air. His fangs clash with your teeth messily, but you have enough practice with kissing vampires that you find the right rhythm soon. Sloppy, wet tongue kisses. Desperate sucks and nibbles on each other’s lips. Moments where moans are mixing and breaths intertwine. Your fingers bury themselves deep in his soft hair, his fingers increase the pressure on your clit.
You can’t grasp the passage of time when he’s got you fucked so good. Hoseok doesn’t care about it either, basking in the blissful time vacuum with you as your bodies connect in harsh strokes. Outside the storm calms down. Outside the night arrives with dark skies and quiet streets. While inside, the red lights keep you illuminated and your bodies get ruined in the sweetest way. 
“Holy fuck, Hobi ah”, you whimper, writhing under him. He’s fucked you long enough that you’re almost there.
“Yeah, that’s good mhm? So fucking good”, he lulls, dragging his lips up your neck, “fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Keep creaming my cock baby, I love it.” 
“You’re making me cum soon.”
“Yeah?” he moans against your lips, “fuck that’s hot. Don’t hold back, babygirl. I’ve got you.”
“Hobi, I have to- ah, I have to, to...I have…”
“It’s okay, everything’s okay. Don’t be scared, I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
His words are like the most wonderful hug to you. You feel so safe. He fills you with so much warmth and tingles that you fall over the edge with a whimper of his name and your legs pulling him closer.
Hoseok slows down his thrusts, keeping his cock buried deep and giving you sensual circles so your favourite spots would experience the fire as well. He presses his fingers against your clit, letting her experience warmth and pressure. This feels so good. There are no words for how good he makes you feel.
“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. Good girl, you’re doing such a good job”, he talks you through it, making it even better with every sweet word he speaks.
You drop the back you didn’t even know you were arching and grab the nape of his neck.
“Hobi, holy fuck”, you choke out and pull his face into the crook of your neck.
“Ah, hey”, he falls with a chuckle and his right hand slamming into the pillow beside your head. It closes around the pillow desperately when seconds later, you are rutting up into him. Your legs are locked around his hips, keeping them from fleeing (not that he wanted to), your pussy is so tight around him.
Hoseok’s voice pitches, his body shudders uncontrollably.
“What are you doing?” he squeaks out, twisting the pillow, “a-ah holy fuck please slow, I’ll cum. Slow, you’re making me cum, s-slow ah.”
“Fill me up, please. Hobi please wanna be creamed”, you beg and twist his hair. You are cockdrunk. There is no denying that. He made you cum so fucking hard that all you want right now is for him to paint your walls white.
“Shit, ah”, he trembles, “shit, holy shit, ah fuck”, he pants and chases your hips in quick ruts. Four strokes it takes him, four strokes and then it gets all too much for him. He climaxes with a pitched moan of your name and his left arm pulling you against his chest.
“Yes, ah Hobi. Thank you”, you mewl, holding him close as his cock fills you with his hottest orgasm.
“You feel so good”, he gets out and drops on top of you. He shudders, exhaling against your neck with a defeated sound leaving him, “holy fuck.”
“Yeah”, you agree, snuggling your cheek against his head. You run your fingers up and down his spine, lingering on his head for some hair play each time you meet it.
“What the actual fuck”, he murmurs.
“Liked it?”
“I’m dead. What the fuck.”
You snicker, sighing happily afterwards.
It takes the two of you a few minutes of silence to really come down. Hoseok keeps lying on top of you, stealing some of your body heat as his cock slowly softens inside you. He’s got you so messy. It is seeping out of you even with his cock inside. You wanted to get up and clean, but he just told you to relax and that he will clean the sheets later.
It was a lull of his words before he grew silent again.
You like the silence. It’s relaxing and helps your brain to reboot. You need that because he really fucked you dumb.
Hoseok lifts his head when his mood lights switch to pink. Silence. His eyes race between yours. He is propped on his elbows, keeping your head caged in safely.
“What?” you ask him.
“Nothing just…” he kisses your lips. It is a sweet kiss. The kind of kiss a lover gives his precious counterpart. It leaves flutters in your chest once he lifts his head again.
Silence.
Eyes race between each other.
The light switches back to red.
He runs the back of his hand down your cheek.
“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, making your heart flutter.
“You’re beautiful too, Hobi”, you breathe, reaching up to caress his cheek.
His eyes lower just a little bit, a shy smile curls his lips.
“Shit ___, you’ve got me feeling romantic. What have you done to me?” he says and snickers.
“Is that bad?” you ask.
“No, it’s just”, he shudders, “giving me the shivers. Mhm fuck”, he says and nuzzles his face into your neck as he lets out a cute sound. He smooches you just once before the nuzzling continues.
You giggle, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.
“You’re still staying the night, yeah?”
“Of course. Why shouldn’t I?”
“The storm stopped.”
“Right. I didn’t even notice”, you say and giggle when he tickles your ear with his breath.
He chuckles softly, giving you a tender kiss on your ear.
“Fuck, you really did it to me”, he whispers with a smile on his lips and his nose nuzzling into the side of your head.
“The feeling’s mutual, Hobi”, you snicker, ruffling his hair.
“Mhm good, yeah that’s good”, Hoseok says and pulls you closer, “so like, why did it take us years to do that?”
“Our lives have been busy, haven’t they? I feel like it’s only slowly been beginning to calm down.”
“Yeah, right. Shit”, he giggles again, “I’m giddy like a little boy. You’re amazing.” 
“You’re cute, Hobi”, you whisper fondly.
It isn’t necessary to mention that Hoseok will be the one to break the news to Yoongi the next day. Hoseok will drive you to class after shared breakfast and he will pick you up again, he will drive you to the estate and then greet Yoongi with a “she just changed my life.” To which Yoongi lets a small smile escape followed by a kiss to your cheek and a teasing “I thought you wanted to change all our lives, Hoba. What happened?”
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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year
Text
The more you hate
Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader
Summary: They say there is a thin line between love and hate. But they never told him crossing that line was dangerous. Idol!AU
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Power imbalance, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: see, he was serving looks for days in Paris that I knew I had to do this 😭 this is an 8k one-shot. I hope you enjoy!
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Jung Hoseok’s smile faltered when you entered the dressing room, much to Jimin’s amusement. He was in the middle of a sentence, literally in the middle and the moment you entered, Hobi faltered. This was not the first time. No- this had been happening ever since you became one of the group’s temporary staff. It had been three months now, and not a day went by that he did not flounder when you entered the room he was in.
One may think it was because the main dancer liked you.
They couldn’t be more wrong.
Hobi could not stand you. He could not even smile at you. He could not even mention your name without gagging. And yes, he was that dramatic.
Jimin watched his hyung as the said hyung followed your movement with daggers in his eyes. It entertained him to no end. He, together with the other members, could not pinpoint the reason why the seemingly always happy J-hope treated you that way. Regardless, he would take advantage of Hobi’s current state.
“So my take is okay now, right?” Jimin asked slyly, taking advantage of the fact that you were now here and that he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore on another take just because it was not up to his standard.
Hobi nodded absentmindedly, drinking from his water bottle as he kept on watching, well…more like glaring on your form.
“You don’t think I should move a little to the left, right?” Jimin clarified with mischief in his eyes. Hobi blinked before turning to him. He looked at the tablet he was holding where the dance record was transferred for him to review. He frowned before looking down at it again.
“Jimin, I think you should do-“
“Hey guys, back to studio in five minutes,” you passed on the order from the director, your smile pleasant and respectful as you looked at Jimin, and slowly shifted your gaze at the emotionless Hobi who didn’t even lift his eyes to look at you.
“Okay, Y/N. Thank you,” Jimin replied before telling you that they would be there. You nodded your head slowly, glancing at the stoic Hobi before lowering your gaze and going back to the studio. It was no secret to the other staff, and to the members as well, that treated you differently. He didn’t even attempt to conceal it, no. He made it obvious.
He would literally stop laughing when you entered the room.
He would stop talking to his members when he caught sight of you.
Hell, you thought that if could stop breathing just to not share the air you breathe, he would.
Which was ironic to you considering that you were here for him.
And which was a shame, really. You did love his smile.
“Hyung?” Jimin called him for the third time since you left.
“Yes, Jimin. Your take is perfect.”
The following week was the group’s video shooting for their music video. It had been a hectic week for everyone, including you. You were tired, yet seeing the art made by them come to life was everything. You felt like you were part of a masterpiece, despite you working from behind the scenes. Everything was going well, except for the current part of the MV.
If looks could kill, you’d be buried six feet underground now. Hobi was getting distracted with the way you were laughing with another staff. A male staff. How dare you laughed with another man, he thought. You should be serious. You were working. What was more important to you than your job, he thought. He was so occupied at throwing daggers with his eyes- daggers that you didn’t notice, that he missed his cue for the fifth time. The director yelled cut, gesturing for them to go back to their original position.
Taehyung sighed before whining, “Hyung, what is the problem?”
He didn’t say a thing for a moment that younger man thought he wouldn’t reply. Taehyung was about to go back to his original position when he finally said something.
“I need a coffee. An iced coffee,” Hobi suddenly declared, his eyes still trained at you.
“Do you want my coffee, hyung? I barely took a sip from it!” Jungkook quipped up, on his way to grab his iced coffee when Hobi shook his head.
“No, I want a fresh iced coffee,” he replied in a fake sadness that Namjoon definitely didn’t buy. Suga rolled his eyes. The two of them saw Hobi’s eyes trained on you. They knew what he was doing. They weren’t born yesterday. “In fact, Y/N, why don’t you buy me coffee?” He called out to you, deliberately increasing his voice to get yours and the whole staff’s attention.
You blinked owlishly once you realized that he called for you for the first time in months. You felt everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for you to move. Hoseok sauntered to you, his smile seemed permanent on his face yet his eyes looked cold as he glanced at the man you were talking.
“You know that coffee shop where we bought our coffee last week?” He asked quietly, his tone pleasant. You couldn’t help but nod- so unaccustomed to his proximity. “Can you please buy me an iced vanilla latte?”
You cleared your throat, “S-sure,” you said before turning to look behind him, specifically to the six other members who were looking at the two of you with varying reactions: Jimin seemed like he was generally having a good time, V looked like he was still confused, JK was pouting that his hyung didn’t like his coffee, while RM looked like he was done with everything, Jin was whispering at Suga, and lastly, Suga especially looked sleepy. “Does anyone else want coffee?”
Suga immediately raised his hand, and at the same time, J-hope who never took his eyes off of you lost his smile. “Nobody else wants coffee, right? She’s just going to buy for me,” he announced, turning to look at them with smile on his face, pointedly ignoring Suga’s raised hand.
“Go along now. I’m craving for something sweet,” he murmured with a smirk before turning to walk back to his position.
“But it’s a one-hour drive,” you realized to yourself, already calculating that it would take you more than two hours to travel back and forth, and waiting for the order. You just prayed that there weren’t a lot of people at this hour.
“I guess you have to run along now, Y/N,” Hobi said cheerily, raising his fist as if to gesture ‘fighting’ to you.
You were running as fast as you could without spilling the coffee you were holding. It was more than two hours, and you were stressing. Your co-worker a few minutes ago messaged you that they were almost done with the shoot. You feared that you were already too late. To your defense, he did send you to buy him a coffee knowing full well that it was a full hour away without the traffic. Your temper was shooting up. You were not the most patient person in the world to begin with. He was not like said this in the beginning. In fact, he was normal with you. He smiled, he laughed, he said thank you every time you did something for him- and then one day he just stopped. You thought you had offended him somehow. It was a good thing that you were only a temporary here. In all honesty, all you just wanted was to repay him for the kindness he showed you when you were at your lowest, when you thought that life and everything good in it left you.
So what happened to him?
Where did it all go wrong?
You entered the studio, seeing only few of the staff remained to pack up. The rest were security patrolling the building before calling it a day. They told you that the members left, but that J-hope might still be in the building. With a sigh that you prayed could provide you the patience you didn’t possess, you went up to his room. But when you arrived, he wasn’t there, and only his assistant was left. And that was how you knew your prayers weren’t answered. You offered her a tired smile before turning around.
“Oh, you’re here! He’s been waiting for you,” his assistant said in relief, instructing you to go to the parking lot.
Which you complied.
You hated how he had you running like a dog. You were starting to think if he was really that man who showed you kindness when you needed it the most a few years ago. Did you play that scene too many times that you started to place more meaning to it? Did you hold on to that memory for far too long that you had started to romanticize that moment?
Still, nevertheless, he did save you that day.
You only wished to pay his kindness back.
Finally, you saw him leaning against his car, his attention focused on his fancy cellphone. He looked serious, his brows pinched together. J-hope was now barefaced, and he was now only wearing a white button down shirt and pants which somehow made him more attractive and manly. Regardless, your patience was running thin and no amount of his attractiveness could alleviate what you were feeling.
You meant, who would order an iced coffee knowing full well that by the time it arrived, all the ice would have long melted by then?! He knew it was a two-hour travel, and yet he still insisted. Your steps were quick, and quite frankly sounding provoked that he looked up before you could even call his attention. You handed him the iced coffee carelessly, the content slushing around and not even the lid could saved him from the escaped droplets. He looked down at his drenched hand, not knowing why it didn’t irritate him. He shook his head with amusement in his eyes before turning his attention to you.
“How’s the travel? I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” he lamented in a fake sympathy. He didn’t know why he enjoyed tormenting you, why he wanted all your attention on him. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why, and he was too naive to realize it himself.
You knew he was testing you, waiting for you to take the bait. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, no. You smiled at him, about to answer him when he lifted his hand that was now dripping from a little coffee and licked it, savoring in the rich taste of the coffee. All while looking at you.
It was too…sexy(?!) for you that you choke on nothing. You felt your cheeks heated up from that that you forgot what you were going to say for a moment.
“Y/N?”
“W-what?”
“Would you drive me home?”
See, why did you say yes? You were just too weak when he was paying attention to you, or when he said please. Or when he looked at you with his soulful eyes that you thought held a little too much emotions, both sadness and euphoria.
Why then did he only let people see his happiness, but never his desolation? Never his regret? Never his weariness?
You watched him warily as you maneuvered out of the basement parking lot. He was sitting beside you, leaning his head on the head rest. He had his eyes shut closed that you could observed him freely. He looked tired, evidenced by his slumbering form.
You thought that it must have been so exhausting to project a happy, lively image every single day.
And so, you told yourself you’d give him the time to sleep by driving as peacefully as you could- which was not easy because you weren’t a good driver in the first place. You thought that it was a miracle you were able to pass your driving test when the examiner looked like he was holding on for dear life. But you knew the road signages, knew the laws, knew the do’s and dont’s, and so by miracle, you were able to pass your exam.
Driving on the main road was no easy feat. You were intimidated by the fast cars, and because of that, you were driving even slower than usual that the less than one-hour drive to his house turned to an almost two-hour drive. The man sleeping beside you was not even aware of what was happening, lost in his own dreams. The movement of the car moved his head to the side, facing you. He was even more angelic when he wasn’t busy glaring at you. He was even more ethereal when he wasn’t giving you meaningless tasks. In the silence of the car, absent of the noise that his world brought, he shone more.
Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were with him now, that you were breathing the same air he was breathing, that you could see him the whole day when he was just a mere memory of your darkest day- the day you buried your parents.
You were numb, so numb that you could barely feel your tears falling freely from your eyes. Your black, funeral dress was in contrast with the gentle picture that the sunset was quietly painting. You were staring at the ocean, the forgiving way the waves kissed the sand didn’t bring you peace. You thought that nothing could bring you peace anymore, that from this day forward, all you would feel was the cold loneliness from losing the only family you had. You thought that you would ran out of tears now that a week passed since you lost your adoptive parents from a horrendous accident. But the tears never stopped. And your heart never ceased to break.
You didn’t know how long you sat on the sand, you didn’t know how many tears fell, or how you were the picture perfect of melancholy. But Jung Hoseok knew, that day he knew.
Your hair had long fell from its confines, now freely flowing with the wind when you turned to look behind you. There, you saw him. He was sitting on the sand just like you. He was resting his arms on his knees. The young man was looking at the sea. He looked so serene, yet his eyes were troubled.
“I thought you’d never stop crying,” he voiced out. He had been sitting there almost as long as you. He came to clear his thoughts, only to find a young woman crying on her own. It was a difficult time for him. He thought that his career was not going anywhere, that he was wasting his time, that no matter how hard he worked, their group wouldn’t make it. He felt like his dream was a like a punch to the moon- impossible. He was torn between giving up and trying, yet this time as a soloist. To add salt to the wound, he watched as everyone received fan letters but him. Jung Hoseok had problems of his own.
So why then did he choose to stay?
He didn’t know why, but he never had the heart to leave you alone. Something was telling him that he was supposed to be here, that he shouldn’t leave you alone.
That you needed him.
You sniffed at the young man with a kind face behind you. He thought you were the most beautiful person in the world, regardless of the endless pit of sadness you were drowning in. He didn’t smile at you. You didn’t need a smile right now. He wordlessly stood up, walked near you, and placed in your hand a white handkerchief. “Cry more if you want. I’ll wait until you’re done,” he stated. And you did. You cried so hard, you cried so much until no tears fell anymore. All the while, he stood there with his hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on the crashing waves. He was humming a song you weren’t familiar with, but you found it soothing. You found him calming.
“You must think I’m a lunatic,” you whispered, his handkerchief drenched with your tears.
He shook his head, “It’s not crazy to cry. It’s how you express the love that has nowhere else to go,” he said tonelessly, as if it was just the truth of life. And it was. “What’s crazy is that people stop themselves from feeling when we aren’t made to not feel. If you’re sad, then cry. If you’re happy, then laugh. It’s not crazy to cry. It’s human to cry.”
He finally looked down at you. He didn’t know why he cared so much when he had burdens of his own. But he wanted you to know, “You’re not alone. I don’t think you were put in this world to be alone.”
No one, not even your closest family friends knew what to say to the pitiful young orphan that was you. Their words seemed empty to you. Their hugs seemed meaningless to you. But this young man that you didn’t even know stood by you as you cried. This man was able to comfort you more than anyone could. This man told you that you weren’t alone. And you held on to that. That day was your saving grace.
It was almost a year ago, yet you didn’t forget him. You couldn’t. His handkerchief was still with you, a remembrance of the day you felt like the world turned its back on you. You were walking to your university, enjoying the calm breeze of the morning when you heard a song from the store you were passing.
That same melody.
That same unfamiliar song he was humming.
Without any thought, you entered the store and saw that the owner was watching a performance by an unknown group. And there he was.
That day, you learned his name.
That same day, you wrote his first fan letter.
J-hope opened his eyes. For the first time in months, he felt rested. It was dark outside, he noted. He was still in the car. He turned to look at you, and there you were smiling so gently at him.
“Slept well, sleepy head?”
The car was parked in front of his house for almost an hour. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up, and so you stayed with him. He deserved the rest after all the hard work he was putting to their craft. Without any makeup on, he looked just like the young man you met on that day. He looked younger without the stress that was piling up on him.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asked, his voice still laced with sleep. “And why didn’t you park the car inside the house?”
“Well, I can definitely park your car. But I can’t assure you that I won’t scratch your car,” you confessed. You sucked at parking, as pitiful as that sounded. He blinked at you before laughing- a real one this time. He always laughed but it wasn’t always out of happiness that you hated hearing his fake laughters, loathed seeing his fake smiles.
“Cute,” he whispered. He wasn’t able to stop himself.
“What?”
“I said you looked like a shoe,” he scoffed before getting out of his car. He rounded the car, and opened the door for you.
“That doesn’t even make any sense!” You pointed out, looking at him indignantly. You looked like a shoe? What did that even mean?!
J-hope smirked, before leaning down and pressing the seatbelt to release you. His face was so near you that you could clearly see his eyes. You loved the color of his eyes, the quintessential blend of brown. You loved his face. You loved how you thought he had the perfect bone structure, how straight he nose was, the perfect size for his face. You loved how he was the perfect embodiment of everything good in this world.
Wait, what? Loved? You meant, you liked his eyes and his face!
He was so near that you could feel his heat. He was not satisfied that he even leaned closer, his arm resting beside your hips while the other was propped beside your head. He was so near that you could smell his manly scent. He looked at your eyes, before whispering, “Get out.”
See, he didn’t even thank you that day.
The end of all the shootings was marked by a celebration party. All the staff, together with the members, were having fun dancing, eating, and drinking in a hotel solely rented by the company. You were exhausted beyond measure, and not just because of work. Specifically, it was because of J-hope that had you running all around the town as if you were his own personal assistant. Not only that but his mood swings drained you. Who knew this person was so moody, you thought.
“You’re a fashion design graduate?” Your male co-staff asked you in disbelief. You chuckled before you took a sip of your drink. “Then why are you working as a staff here?”
You explained to him that you were waiting for the result of your application to work for a brand you believed and supported abroad. You did interviews virtually and now you were eagerly waiting for the response. You couldn’t wait to finally live your dream, the one you had the strength to reach because you promised yourself that day to never give up.
You turned to look beside you and you almost jumped when you saw Yoongi silently drinking his choice of alcohol. How could he move so silently? And how long had he been sitting there?
“Do you want anything else, Yoongi? I’ll get it for you,” you offered politely to one of the members, smiling at him when he shifted his eyes to you.
“So you’re leaving?” He asked instead of answering your inquiries. It was out of nowhere that it took you a moment to realize he heard your plans.
“Oh, u-uhm. Yes, that’s my life plan”
“Hmm,” he thought of the headache that was about to come, seeing as from across the room, Hoseok was already throwing daggers at him with his eyes. “What did Hoseok say about that?”
You blinked owlishly in confusion, wondering why he brought up what he thought of your decision. “I didn’t tell him. But the company knows I’m only temporary here,” you trailed off your explanation, seeing the stoic Suga looked stressed. “No worries, though! I’ll make sure to finish all my commitments before I leave,” you hurriedly assured him, mistaking his silence for his apprehension on work. After all, he was known for being a workaholic.
Suga was certain it was not smart to hide this from Hoseok.
Another hour passed and you weren’t able to keep track of your alcohol intake. Everyone was loose, and the staff you grew closed to kept on drinking more and more. It was bad, you drank more than you should evidenced by your slurred words and your barely focused eyes.
“Noona, you’re drunk,” he noted as Jungkook kneeled in front of you, checking your current state with his worried, doe eyes. In your eyes, there were two Jungkook- two muscular Jungkook that looked at you with concern. “Come on. I’ll help you,” he said worriedly, placing your arm around his neck as he guided you to stand up. He, with Namjoon, had been helping the drunk staff get to their rooms, seeing as they were one of the few sober people here. He was about to lift you up when Hoseok who had been going back and forth about helping you showed up. He told himself he didn’t care, that you were merely a nuisance to him and that your presence disturbed his composure. On the other hand, something about another man touching you just didn’t seem right to him.
He guessed the possessive side of him won that night.
“Jungkookie,” he called the youngest member, clapping his muscular shoulder once. “I’ll take care of her. You go help Namjoon.”
Jungkook faltered once, looking at his hyung with hesitancy in his eyes. Didn’t he hate you? Wasn’t it just last week that Hobi saw you laughing at V’s joke? And that he said that if you had time to joke around and laugh with other people, then you’d have time to take his car for maintenance. That took you two hours. Plus the drive back to the company. Plus he made you drive him to his home.
And then he made you cook him dinner.
“Are you sure, hyung?” It didn’t escape Hobi’s eyes that the maknae still did not let you go. “I can bring her up real quick and then help Namjoon hyung-“
“Jungkook. Go help Namjoon,” Suga ordered quietly, his stance relaxed that he didn’t have any choice but to place you gently back on the sofa. See, how could he slither up to anywhere without making a sound? He was like a cat, Jungkook swore in amazement.
“You know what you’re doing, right, Hoseok?” Suga clarified with Hobi, his voice bored as if he didn’t care either way. But he did. The whole members were at lost with how Hobi was treating you. It was unlike him. He was always the first to smile at anyone, always the first to offer a helping hand, the first to make anyone feel welcome.
So what made you an outlier?
“Because if you don’t, I suggest you start thinking of the reason why you’re like this. And stop playing with her.”
J-hope carried you in his arms, your dizzy head leaning on his chest. This close and you could inhale his musky, manly scent. He did smell good despite the smell of alcohol lingering on his shirt. His body was warm- the kind that was pleasant and felt like home.
Carefully, he laid you on the bed, supporting your head until it hit the pillow. With softness you didn’t know he possessed for you, he placed a blanket on your body after he made sure you drank enough water.
He knew he should leave, he knew he did the decent thing. Why then did he not want to leave you when you were this vulnerable? Why then did he want to stay?
Why then did he falter when all he wanted to do was brush the hair off of your face?
And why was he fighting against himself?
His hand hovered just above your skin, gently tracing the outline of your cheeks, of your nose, of the way your lips protruded.
The way your eyelashes softly fluttered against your cheeks was endearing. The way your brows furrowed in your sleep unknowingly made him smile. You were so ethereal in his eyes, that he made up his mind. With extreme gentleness, he brushed you hair off of your face. This close and he could see the marks on your skin, proving further how you were made so uniquely, how marvelously you were created. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, no longer wondering how soft your skin was because this time, he knew. Perhaps, he was not in control as he initially thought because he found himself touching your lips with his thumb. And at that time, he could have swore he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to feel your lips against his, to know what you tasted.
He looked so lost, his eyes trained on your lips that he didn’t notice you looking at him. And when he met your eyes, you didn’t say anything. You merely waited, waited so sweetly, anticipating what his decision would be. Yet, for the life of you, you wished you wouldn’t be alone.
J-hope would have stepped back if not for your hand holding on to his. “I don’t want to be alone,” you confessed, seeing the same loneliness that haunted you each night in his eyes. “Can’t you stay?” You whispered.
You didn’t have to ask twice.
He was only meant to stay until you fell back asleep. He only meant to sit beside you, not lie down on the bed facing your slumbering form. He only meant to be here temporarily. He only meant to keep his distance- so why then did you have your hand buried in his chest? Why then did he hold it close to him? Because now, no one could tear him away from you. Now, he was looking at you with as if the truth itself was glaring at him, willing him to finally see what he was desperately misunderstanding.
He sighed with the realization that his hatred for you was a misunderstood emotion, something that he didn’t know he could experienced in this life. The line between love and hate was definitely thin. He didn’t know when he crossed it, he just knew he couldn’t go back.
“Why are you still so good to me?” He asked despite knowing you wouldn’t answer. How could you take all the shit he had been throwing at you? How could you continuously asked him everyday if he was okay, if he needed anything? How could you still smile at him when he had been anything but good to you?
He thought you wouldn’t answer, but you did.
And in your haze, you whispered, “Because you saved me.”
The six members were all gathered in their communal room. They were all looking at each other, waiting for anyone to start. It was apparent to them that J-hope didn’t come home last night. In fact, Jungkook happened to pass by the hallway at six in the morning, looking for food because he was starving when the door to your hotel room opened. And there he came face to face with the disheveled, clothes-wrinkled, Hoseok.
“Do you think…he killed her?” He voiced out his concern, eyes wide as he looked at his hyungs.
Jimin chuckled at the youngest member’s innocence. He was the first one to notice how different his hyung was when it came to you. He was just glad that finally after tirelessly looking at the two of you interacted, his hyung finally made a move.
“He likes her,” RM finally spoke up, his eyes trained on the book he was reading.
“Really?” Taehyung asked in disbelief. How could he not see it?
“Tae, you’re so dense,” Jin bellowed, throwing V the pillow he was holding. “Don’t you have eyes?”
“Shit, he’s here!” Jimin alerted them when he saw his hyung opening the door. “Quick act natural!”
The freshly showered main dancer entered the room. He looked like he had rested well. Everyone avoided eye contact with him. It was apparent to him that Jungkook blabbered what he saw this morning. With a sigh, he looked at the culprit who had his head buried on a book.
“Jungkook, how’s that book?”
“It’s very educational, hyung!”
“Interesting,” he said in a deadpanned voice before walking to him, grabbing the book, and flipping it upside down. “Very interesting. I didn’t know you could read that way.”
He turned to look at Suga who had his eyes closed, his head bent in an unnatural manner that he was certain it was not comfortable.
“Suga hyung, stop pretending to sleep. There is no way anyone can sleep in that position.”
Yoongi cleared his throat before sitting up straight as if he wasn’t called on his lie. “How was your night?”
“It was…good,” he replied with a genuine smile on his face that Suga couldn’t help but mirror it on his own. Hoseok deserved to be happy, that was what they all thought.
He hadn’t slept that well in a long time, but he noticed that whenever he was with you he felt like he could rest. Like he could close his eyes and it would be okay because you were there. Like he could shed the happy persona he was wearing and just be himself. Like he could feel emotions other than happiness he was showing to the world.
The problem now was that he spent all his time antagonizing you that he was sure you wouldn’t give him the time of the day. To which, Taehyung articulated that maybe, he should try being kind to you.
So yes, he did try doing that. But now, you looked at him suspiciously. Just the other day, he passed you a bottle of water because he thought you looked a little parched. You passed it back to him with the lid opened, much to his shocked. Did you think he was asking you to open it for him?!
The next time, he opened the bottle himself and passed it to you, this time you thought he wanted a colder one so you went to fetch him that. His jaw literally dropped when you passed him the bottle. He even bought you flowers, certain that you would loved it. In fact, you loved it so much you put it in a vase only for J-hope to find it displayed in his office. Jin laughed himself to the floor when he saw it.
You were preoccupied with the instruction being disseminated, your eyes focused on the schedule given that you didn’t notice your shoelace was untied. Without much thought, Jung Hoseok leaned down on his knee, his mind focused on the task. You almost didn’t notice that the noise suddenly stopped, and that all eyes were on you. Slowly, you looked down to find his head bent down as he tied your shoelace. His brows were furrowed, engrossed in his task. He looked up suddenly, meeting your eyes. You felt your cheeks heating up from his gesture. He smirked and he thought that you would finally get it.
You didn’t. To which RM advised that he made it obvious this time, to make you actually noticed him, to leave you no choice but to notice him.
The following week was the group’s schedule to film somewhere remote for their segment. It was a three-day trip. You looked around the basement parking, wondering where your co-staff were. Weren’t you all supposed to drive there together? You were about to call them on your phone when you saw J-hope leaning against his car, his eyes trained on you.
“About time you show up. Let’s go,” he sighed. You guessed you were going to have to drive him again. And here you thought that you’d get to catch up on your sleep. You opened the door when Hoseok slammed it shut again, his manly hand beside your head as it rested on the door. Here he was again, standing so near you that you had no choice but to step back. But this time, you couldn’t. You were between him and the car.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m…going to drive?” You answered unsurely, breath hitching as he leaned in even further. If you thought he was handsome when he was smiling, the serious Hoseok did things to your heart.
“I’m driving. That’s why I waited for you.”
“Yeah, but why? Don’t I always drive you?”
Why was it hard flirting with you, he thought.
You watched him from the corner of your eye as he drove with one hand, the other resting on the stick gear. He had coffee prepared for you in his car, even a bottle of water for the travel. He was being so uncharacteristically kind and considerate to you that you were becoming suspicious now.
“Your hair looks so beautiful,” he complimented all of a sudden that you almost sputtered out the water you had been drinking. What did he mean? You didn’t even wash your hair today. Was he insulting you? Was he complimenting you? At this point, did anyone know what was going on?
“Did I do something wrong?”
“What?”
“I don’t know. You seem different now. If I did something wrong, I’m sorry.”
He looked at you with confusion in his face, holding your eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. “Just because I said your hair is beautiful?”
When you only blinked at him, lost for words when he looked puzzled himself before a shadow of understanding passed through his expressive face. “You don’t remember that night, do you?”
“What night?”
And there it was. He thought that he already made progress with you. And it turned out that you remember none of it.
The members watched as you and J-hope arrived with anticipation in their faces, only for Hoseok to shake his head. He spent the whole three days literally glued to your side. He brought you food, he opened water bottles for you, he sat beside you wherever you were, even going as far as glaring at any man who had the audacity to sit beside you. Most of all, he made you laughed. He listened to whatever you had to say with laser focus, as if you were the most interesting person in the world. And one night, when you all had too much to drink, he sat beside you and held your hand in his in the darkness of the night.
You could admit that as much as you didn’t want to, being this close to him was affecting you. Which was bad. Because you knew you couldn’t and shouldn’t fall for him, that you shouldn’t get attached because this would end badly for you. You were leaving. And you were just here to make his life a little bit easier as a repayment to what he unknowingly did for you. And so, you started steering clear of his path for his sake, but also for the sake of your heart. Whenever you saw him, you’d suddenly have an errand to do. Whenever he was about to go to you, you’d suddenly join a group of people so he wouldn’t come. You even went as far as jumping at the last car, which happened to be Suga’s, just so you wouldn’t be with Hoseok. Suga looked at you weirdly before looking at the window, and then sighing. You were only glad that he drove without a word.
“Don’t you like him?” He asked in a bored tone after driving for half an hour. “And don’t lie to me.”
You blushed as you looked anywhere but him. Truth, you found out, was harder to deny once it was verbalized, once it was said. You could hardly deny the truth when you kept it in yourself, what would happen to you then if you say it?
“Can I trust you?” You asked in a small voice. You weren’t close to him, but you knew he was quiet, that he was like a Cheshire cat, merely sitting there quietly and observing, always observing. From the few interactions you had with him, you knew he only had his members’ best interest in heart. He was asking not because he was curious, no. He was asking because he cared for Hoseok.
“You can,” he replied in that deep voice of his. “Or you can’t. It’s up to you.”
You smiled at his answer, this was really who Suga was. And so, you decided to tell the truth.
“I do… but this is not going anywhere. What I feel for him is irrelevant,” you began, your lips twitching as you played with your fingers nervously. “He is a good man.”
Yoongi nodded as he silently drove, lost in his own thoughts. His mind must have been interesting, it must have been too complexed that you wondered how he would act when he fell. You didn’t know if you admire or pity the woman who would have the bravery to fall for him.
“That’s not for you to decide, Y/N. At least tell him.”
You wouldn’t.
You walked quietly after you made sure that he was not around. It had been a week of successfully avoiding Hoseok and you could see that he was becoming displeased with your actions. It was apparent to him that you were avoiding him, much to his vexation. But this ended now.
You were on your way to a meeting, in your hand was your planner. This was your last month, your contract was almost through. Your thoughts were immersed with things you needed to do that you didn’t notice that it was peculiar you were the first one in the small conference room. You waited for the other attendees of the meeting, lost in your own world as you wrote on your planner. The door opened and closed, and you lifted your head with a smile on your face ready to greet whoever that was when you saw him. He entered the room with a blank face, never turning his back on you as he pressed the lock. He walked around the table and sat on it, perching his lap on the edge as he faced you. His eyes looked tired. It took him a moment before he broke the silence.
“You’re avoiding me,” he stated as though he didn’t need your answer.
“I’m not-“ you started denying when he tilted his head to the side, his expression even going more serious. You recognized this face, the expression he used when he was coaching on the dance routines. You looked at your lap, anywhere just to avoid his intense gaze. Yet, you could not escape him. You were too hyperaware of his presence, of his larger than life presence that made you want to say yes to whatever he wanted. His thigh was almost touching your hand that was on the table.
“Why are you avoiding me, angel?” He asked gently, terrified that you’d up and leave like the last few days. You couldn’t even deny when he already saw right through your bullshit. You were afraid to look into his eyes because then he would see, he would know what you felt. When you still didn’t lift your eyes to him, he held your hand, bringing it to his lap. To be honest, he was scared. He hated the feeling of not seeing you, of not talking to you, of not having you near him. “Tell me, hmm? Tell me and I’ll fix whatever it is.”
Your lips quivered. It had been too log since anyone told you they’d fix it for you, that they’d take care of it for you. You had been alone for far too long that hearing that hurt you. What you felt for him terrified you. For so long you looked at him as though he was your savior, and now you were looking at him like he could be something more when you knew you were setting yourself for another heartache- one that you wouldn’t survive. Hoseok lifted your hand to his lips, softly kissing your palm, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me.”
“I-I think,” you began before trailing off. You chewed on your bottom lip, your eyes trained on his chest. You still couldn’t look at him, still could not f the life of you look at him as you told him the truth.
“You think what, angel?” He repeated gently, urging you to continue.
“I think…I’m falling in love with you,” you finally said as you shut your eyes closed, waiting for his disgust.
Yet it never came.
He was silent, so silent that it terrified you. You were pulling your hand away from his when he tightened his hold on you. It left you no choice but to look up at him…only to find him with a genuine smile on his face.
“Good,” he whispered, his face losing the tense look it had moments ago. Now, J-hope was happy, utterly happy. And it showed. “Because I already fell.”
He tilted your chin further, and slowly, so slowly he leaned in. His jaw was set hard with concentration, his eyes trained on you. And then you felt his lips on yours. It was soft, a kind of kiss reserved for first kisses, the one where one wanted to savor the moment. He kissed you once, twice- and then he leaned back, opened his eyes and looked at you as if asking you if that was okay. And when you nodded, J-hope decided he wanted more. The kiss began to get more heated. Suddenly, he lifted you from your seat and placed you on top of the table. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, so close that you could feel the growing hardness of his member. You have been kissed before, but certainly not like this. Certainly not by someone as grand as him. Certainly not the kind of kiss where time felt like it stood still. You could feel his tongue inside you, keen on discovering every inch of you. It was too much, it was too many emotions that you didn’t know how to handle them. You felt his other hand possessively around the back of your neck. You thought it was forever before he stopped kissing you. He leaned his forehead on yours, breathing hard as he leveled you with his intense gaze.
“You’re mine now, right, angel?” He asked as he looked at you with his lust-filled eyes.
Were you his?
Could you be his?
It was as if you were awaken, as if the haze that surrounded you was now gone and in its place was the hard truth that you weren’t supposed to be with him because you were leaving.
You shook your head, your hands pushing on his chest. “No. I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears brimming on your eyes “We can’t.”
In his weakened state and shocked, you were able to push him away. You ran to the door without looking back, and left him.
What happened, he thought in confusion. He was about to follow you when he noticed that you left your planner in your haste to escape. He was about to pick up the open planner when something piqued his curiosity.
Your handwriting seemed familiar to him. He tilted his head to the side, trying to remember why this seemed like a piece of a puzzle to him. He racked his brain, trying to remember something… And then he got it. He remembered this handwriting, the same handwriting that he had framed in his office- his first fan letter. He looked at it for hours back when he wanted to give up, and until now he looked at it with gratitude that someone believed in him when he wanted to give up.
It was you. He finally found you.
If this wasn’t fate, then he didn’t know what it was.
It almost buried the hurt he was feeling when you pushed him away. Almost. He was almost okay. But then he saw you marked the date of your last day in the company- and on the next page was the list of things you needed to accomplish because you leave the country. You were leaving the country. You were fucking leaving him.
You couldn’t leave, no. Not when he finally found you. Not when he only felt this way with you. Not when this was fate itself. Not when he was irrevocable so in love with you, not when he couldn’t even begin to imagine breathing without you. No. You cannot leave him. His mind was going overdrive, his heart beating too loud with the thought of losing you.
He needed to do something.
He needed to do it now,
With renewed strength, he marched out the door. His footsteps was hard and fast, looking for any trace of you that he almost ran straight to Namjoon. The leader took a look of his hyung’s state before carefully asking if he got everything under control. To which he replied that he’d only be stable and okay once he was sure that you were never going to leave him.
“Remember to do everything smartly, hyung,” RM advised him as a leader should. But as a friend, he told him where he last saw you. And as someone who also had to do underhanded methods just to get the girl, he stated, “Do what you must do, hyung. Lock her down to you, if you must.”
You almost jumped up when you heard hard, consecutive knocks on your door. It was alraedy closed to midnight, and you were weary. Your eyes were red from crying, something that you had not done in a long time. You were on the floor, surrounded by things you were packing since last week. You thought it was just your neighbor asking for something, and so you thought she would go away. You didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone today.
Yet, the knocks only became more frequent that left you no choice but to open the door- and there he was. Standing tall in front of you was the one you ran away from.
Jung Hoseok had his hands in his pockets, his stance relaxed that you couldn’t read him.
“Can we talk?”
And as an answer, you stepped back and let him passed you inside your apartment. You had barely locked the door when you found yourself against the wall, and his lips hovered above yours for a moment, a moment for you to push him away. And when you didn’t, he pressed against your lips so tenderly and yet so demanding. All thoughts about why this was not a good idea vanished. All of a sudden, all that mattered was this feeling. All that mattered was Jung Hoseok.
His tongue caressed yours, while his hand lifted your leg to him, brushing his hardened member on your core. Pressing so gently as though he was on a mission to seduce you that you were left with no choice but to entangle your fingers in his hair, brushing the strands that fell on his forehead. His other hand journeyed inside your shirt. The heat of your skin, the softness of your skin furthered drove him to madness. His palm was hot as he kneaded you through your bra, pinching your nipple with a pressure you never knew.
“If you don’t want this,” he breathed as he peppered kisses on your neck, marking you for the world to see. “Tell me now. Because if you don’t, I can’t stop myself anymore, angel..”
You felt his hand on your bare breast, your bra not standing a chance against the man in front of you. His thumb brushed over your nipple repeatedly, earning him a moan you could not stop.
“Do you want this, angel? Do you want me?” He whispered hotly, his eyes now trained on your eyes with seriousness and lust. And you could only nod.
You didn’t know how, but he managed to carry you to your bed. If he noticed your belongings in boxes, he didn’t say a thing. You would be moving, yes. But it wouldn’t be abroad where it was fucking far from him. No. You would be moving in with him.
He moved fast; your clothes were gone while he was still fully clothed. He spread your legs unceremoniously, hooking them over his shoulders, and then his sinful tongue thrust inside of you. Hoseok never gave you the chance to keep up with his ministrations, you had no choice but to moan and fall apart. And even when you did, by heavens he did not stop. His hold on your thighs were tight, fingers digging on your skin as your thighs shook with endless pleasure he was giving you.
You were begging at this point, but you didn’t know if it was for him to stop or to go on. The third time you came, he crawled to you, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He showered you with praises about how good you were to him, how heavenly you tasted…how you were his. This time, he did not ask. He knew you were his.
You didn’t know when you passed out. Was it the second time he made you come with his cock? Was it because of the dizzying pleasure he managed to pull out of you? Was it because of his sweet, little promises about possessing you completely? Was it his promises that he’d take care of everything?
You didn’t know.
Hoseok watched you as you slept beside him, his body momentarily sated as he looked at his angel. He admired the marks on your neck, admired the bruises on your thighs. He smiled to himself as he brushed your hair away from your face. How could you think of leaving him when it was this good, he thought.
But never mind that.
You wouldn’t leave. His phone dinged from an email, and he smirked evilly as he read that the person he recommended for the job you had previously accepted was successful. The fashion company replaced you willingly with Hoseok’s promise that he would model one of their collections. You would be sad, though. But that was fine. He did this for you. He did this so the two of you would grow even closer. You shouldn’t worry, though. Hoseok thought of everything. A month from now, you would start your work with a fashion company. But this time, it as in Korea where he could see you, where he could keep you.
See, anyone was replaceable. But to him, you weren’t. You were the only one.
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ugh-yoongi · 10 months
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the retreat | jhs
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(or, the one where namjoon just wants hoseok to take care of himself, but then there's a fake relationship, only one bed, a guy who doesn't talk, and maybe a weird cult.)
✤ pairing: hoseok x f. reader ✤ genre: childhood bf2l, fake dating-ish au; crack, fluff, smut ✤ rating: explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ warnings: there is a lot of talk about food and eating in here, so i would not suggest reading this if you are sensitive to those kinds of triggers. tropes galore! side taegi. 5th muster jimin from that one vcr. hobi is pansexual and i do not wanna hear from the weirdos during pride month, or ever. he is a millionaire tho so he's not off the hook. a slight astrological dragging. a strained mother-daughter relationship. the smut is not super explicit or detailed but warnings are as follows: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), biting, hair pulling, hobi may or may not rip a pair of underwear, fingering, protected vaginal sex. a brief but canonical breaking-the-fourth-wall appearance by park bogum. beta'd by me, so any mistakes are my own. ✤ wordcount: 19.6k ✤ thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, as always, for the encouragement and reading every draft of this. @hot-soop for both the astrological advice and advice in general. @effortandmore for reading this over recently and telling me it was worth finishing. i would get absolutely nothing done without the three of you. ✤ author's note: i was supposed to have this posted for jess's birthday two years ago. we're not gonna talk about that, because this just means i'm a month early for this year. happy early birthday, jess! anyway~ this is basically a 20k love letter to jung hoseok bc i miss him. i hope you enjoy it.
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Jung Hoseok is overworked.
(He’s also filthy rich, the proud owner of not one but two Lamborghinis [that he doesn’t even drive], and smiling on the cover of Forbes. He has a top floor penthouse in the most expensive high-rise in the city and a vacation home along the Italian coast. When he needs to go on a business trip, his driver takes him straight to the tarmac where he boards a private plane. His tailor just sends him clothes now, the cost of dressing Jung Hoseok far outweighed by the dozens of other filthy rich men who flock to his store to buy whatever he’s wearing.)
Jung Hoseok is also going to have a stroke and die before the age of 30, because what’s a little money at the expense of his mental well-being and cardiac health?
“All things considered, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go out,” he argues, clammy palms flat on his expensive desk. Rosewood, because not only is he a millionaire, he’s a millionaire with taste. None of that monochromatic minimalist bullshit for him, thank you.
In front of him, Kim Namjoon also looks to be on the verge of a stroke. Not of the same variety. Namjoon is paid well because he works for Hoseok and Hoseok insists on it. None of that heartless, dickhead-to-everyone, impossible-to-work-for CEO reputation for him, either, thank you.
Namjoon is also a militant vegan and has twenty-six plants and one bonsai on his desk named Bonnie. He insists on spending his lunch breaks in Hoseok’s office, lecturing him on the benefits of plant-based diets and exercise and meditation. Despite his perpetual smile and sunny demeanor, no one else speaks to Hoseok this way, but Namjoon does. Absolutely doesn’t give a shit.
“It absolutely would be the worst way to go out. Have you even been listening to me?”
Hoseok sighs and closes the symptoms of a stroke tab in his browser. “I always listen to you, Namjoon, I just don’t always listen.” A smart choice, too, judging by the swamp-colored sludge Namjoon has in a glass container, because he doesn’t use plastics.
Following his boss’s line of sight, Namjoon frowns. “It’s a pitaya bowl. Don’t look at it like that.”
“It looks radioactive,” Hoseok says, face contorted in a wince. “Like it’s going to become sentient and sprout six arms.”
Namjoon scoffs. “If it does, I hope it uses all six of them to slap the shit out of you.”
“I could pay it to spare me,” Hoseok insists, chin jutting out indignantly.
One of the reasons Hoseok had all but demanded HR hire Namjoon—despite there being a plethora of other candidates who were just as qualified and nowhere near as hell-bent on him taking care of himself—was his grit and determination. He’d showed up two hours early to his interview and steamed his suit jacket in the employee bathroom. It was completely insane and even more neurotic, but Hoseok had been taken with him immediately.
Now, it seems that determination and hard-headed nature is coming back to bite Hoseok in the ass.
“Oh, yeah? You’re gonna pay your blood to not get cut off from your brain and your heart, too? Well, good for you, Hobi. I heard blood has even started taking American Express. You’re in luck—”
Unable to take anymore, Hoseok groans and waves his arms to cut him off. “Okay, I get it! God, why did I hire you? Your desk alone has to be violating at least fourteen different health codes. Your office is humid. Do you know how impossible that is to achieve outside of a greenhouse?”
“You hired me because I’m good at my job and I’m not afraid of you, so I have no issue slapping your fourth double bacon cheeseburger of the day out of your greasy, on-the-brink-of-dying hands. Christ, you act like it’d actually kill you to eat a vegetable for once.”
Hoseok squawks. “Hey! That definitely didn’t come up in the interview, and I have never eaten four cheeseburgers in a day. Stop being hyperbolic.”
“Speaking of things that start with hyper- and have a Bin them, hyperbaric therapy is great for people with infections from oxygen-starved tissue—”
“Is this what you do all day? You just sit on the internet and search for diseases I could potentially die from and then you come in here and harass me about them?”
Namjoon’s face, which had previously been scrunched up in righteous indignation, smooths over into something far more serious. (He doesn’t even have wrinkles. Namjoon’s skincare routine must be immaculate.)“Someone has a stroke every forty seconds in this country, Hoseok. I wouldn’t joke about this.”
Well, okay. Every forty seconds is far more often than Hoseok had been expecting. Not that he thinks about stroke statistics often, and definitely not outside of Namjoon’s overbearing presence—but, in his defense, it’s not like he’s had much of a reason. He gets a physical and routine blood work done every year and his doctor has never rung any alarm bells, so why would he?
But the resolution with which Namjoon is hammering away at this is definitely giving him pause.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, either. “See, you are concerned! Look, you’re far more likely to stick with something if you don’t overwhelm yourself, so let’s start small, okay? One salad per day. And a real salad, Hoseok—not one of those ones loaded with cheese and bacon and drenched in ranch dressing.”
Hoseok’s jaw snaps closed. “Then what’s the point of eating a salad?”
“To prevent you from dying before your thirtieth birthday. We’ve already established this.”
“Okay,” Hoseok drawls, “but it’s not the salad’s fault if that happens. You shouldn’t take it out on him.”
Namjoon gags. “Leave it to me to work for a man who thinks salads are male.” He casts his gaze skyward. “Please, Lord, if you’re listening, please put me out—”
“Please put me out of my misery first,” Hoseok interjects, also staring at the ceiling. Then, with a leveled glare, he says to Namjoon, “Fine. State your terms.”
“Really?” Namjoon asks, having the audacity to look shocked.
“Yeah, if it’ll get you off my back. I can’t spend one more lunch break in here with you.”
Namjoon smiles. Nothing friendly, either—it’s purely sinister and mocking. Then he says, “Great success!” in a horrible impersonation of Borat and the moment’s gone, lost to the stagnant air conditioning of Hoseok’s office.
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Unsurprisingly, Namjoon’s terms include a lot of vegetables.
Hoseok has a private chef, of course, so it’s not like he has to really do much other than smile through the pain. But, really, would it actually kill him to be allowed a steak or some lamb skewers? What had started off as salads for lunch has turned into a full-blown war between the two of them. Hoseok had shown up with cheese and bacon on his salad one time and Namjoon nearly went off the rails, performing a very enthusiastic speech about how Hoseok cannot be trusted when left to his own devices, so here they are.
Namjoon’s trying his hardest to crack Hoseok, and Hoseok wouldn’t have become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company by the age of twenty-eight if he were so easily cracked.
So, yeah, here they are. Locked in a stalemate like two idiot deer with their antlers tangled together, except instead of feuding over territory or a mate, they’re ready to spear one another over vegetables.
Darwin would have a lot to say about this.
On Friday, at exactly one-o’clock on the dot, Namjoon barges into Hoseok’s office and slaps a stapled-together pile of papers onto his desk. “New terms.”
“Oh, no thank you,” Hoseok replies airily. “I’m not much of a Dua Lipa fan.”
“Wha—that’s ‘New Rules.’”
“Is it?” Hoseok’s smiling, eyebrows raised in that way that makes him look super charming and innocent.
Namjoon isn’t fooled, though. “Cut it out. I saw you eating ribs under your desk the other day. You owe me this.”
Not much shocks Hoseok, but being outed like this so brazenly sure does. “How did you know about that?”
“Uh, did you forget your office walls are made out of glass?” Namjoon twirls a finger in a circle, as if to say look at your four glass walls, you fucking idiot. Isn’t it great to be rich and have no privacy? “Not to mention you had a glob of barbeque sauce on your shirt that I could smell from a mile away.”
“I could’ve put it on my salad,” Hoseok reasons.
“Oh, please.” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Six ribs and a side of potato salad does not a salad make.”
“What do you mean? It’s literally called potato salad, isn’t it? God, you’re uptight.”
Namjoon sucks in a deep breath, most likely reciting meditation mantras in his head while he thinks about his plants. “I didn’t come in here for this,” he eventually says, and Hoseok is honestly impressed at how collected he sounds. “The point is you can’t be trusted, so there’s new terms.”
Grabbing the stack of papers, Hoseok flips through them casually. “And if I don’t agree? Don’t forget I’m your boss.”
“If you don’t agree, I’m posting the security footage of you eating those ribs on Twitter.” Hoseok’s looking positively scandalized now. He wouldn’t. Namjoon wouldn’t do that to him. “Honestly, Hoseok. You should be ashamed of yourself. You looked like that video of that oversized baby covered in peanut butter.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Hoseok asks, eyes narrowed. “Seriously, who are you? Because the man standing across from me is not my sweet baby Namjoon. Sweet, sweet Namjoon, who always checks the toilet bowl before he uses it because he saw one of those videos from Australia of a snake being in there and he’d feel too guilty to even piss on a snake—”
Namjoon plants his palms on Hoseok’s desk and puffs out his chest a little. It’s a great chest, Hoseok must admit. Namjoon had mentioned in passing he’d started going to the gym, so he’s not—“I’m not afraid of you,” Namjoon reminds him. “Try me.”
“I have thirty-two lawyers.”
All Namjoon does is quirk an eyebrow. “I have thirty-thousand Twitter followers.”
“I can fire you.”
“Please do. Capitalism is a scourge on this earth and I no longer wish to participate in it.”
“I can fire you and make sure you never find employment in this city ever again.”
Namjoon shrugs. “Fine by me. I’ve been thinking about moving out of the city, anyway. Too much air pollution and I have no space to garden.”
Two things become clear very quickly: 1. Namjoon is far more cut-throat than Hoseok ever anticipated him being; and 2. Hoseok is woefully underprepared for this particular battle. No matter. He’s business-savvy. There’s no shame in conceding an unwinnable battle if he can still win the war, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.
“Fine,” he relents after an awkward staring contest that lasts two minutes too long. “What are your new terms, then?”
“You have to go to a wellness retreat.”
Hoseok can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of his mouth. “Sorry, did you say a retreat? How is that a punishment?”
“It isn’t,” Namjoon says. “It’s meant to reset your body and mind. No phones allowed. Just you and your partner in the refreshing, reinvigorating air of the rainfor—”
“What was that?” Hoseok interjects.
“What, the rainforest part? Don’t worry, it’s safe. You’re not, like, sleeping outside with tarantulas and shi—”
“No, not that. Me and my who?”
“Oh!” Namjoon grins. “Your partner. See, I did a lot of research and found the absolute best and most effective wellness retreat for people of your… uh, standard. And the man who runs this retreat is incredible. Like, world-renowned. But the catch is it’s a couple’s retreat, so you’ll have to find someone to play pretend with you for a month.”
Hoseok is a great businessman. He’s good at negotiations and managing relationships and making smart, anticipatory decisions. He has the bank account and name plate with accompanying title on his desk to prove it. But, as he takes in Namjoon’s words, the only thing his brain can come up with is the Windows shutdown sound and a glaring blue screen alerting him to danger.
Nevertheless, one of Hoseok’s rules for business is to never let the opposition see him frazzled. “Why don’t you just come with me?” he offers casually, his tone completely at odds with the pained, panicked expression on his face.
“Two reasons,” Namjoon says quickly and without hesitation, as if he expected this and had all the time in the world to prepare a rebuttal. “First, you couldn’t pay me enough to act like we’re a couple. No offense, but you’re kind of insufferable and I would never date a carnivore—”
Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Wow. Some offense taken.”
“—Second, someone has to stay behind and hold down the fort if you’re going to be gone for a month.”
“Why can’t Brad do it?” Hoseok asks. This time his strained tone completely gives him away.
“You don’t trust Brad.”
Hoseok’s brows furrow. “I never said that.”
“You absolutely did say that,” Namjoon responds immediately, pulling out his phone. “On April nineteenth at approximately ten-twenty in the morning, you said, and I quote, ‘Namjoon, why do you think I hired you? If I had to suffer through having one more Ivy League white guy who played lacrosse and got grandfathered into a fraternity as my assistant, I was going to throw myself down this elevator shaft.’ To which I replied, ‘Oh, you don’t like Brad?’ And you said, ‘Brad’s fine, I guess. I just don’t trust him.’ So, I asked you why, and you said, ‘I wouldn’t trust Brad to order a box of staples, let alone to know the difference between tteokbokki and hotteok—’”
“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say at all,” Hoseok lies. It absolutely sounds like something he’d say at ten-twenty in the morning on the nineteenth of April. “Also, did you really make a note of that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Of course I didn’t,” Namjoon fires back. “I obviously took a voice recording of it first and transcribed it later. Sometimes I listen to it on repeat when I really want to strangle you and it calms me, because it serves as a reminder that if I go to prison for attempted murder, Brad will take my job. And we can’t have that, because you might simply distrust Brad, but I fucking hate him.”
Hoseok gapes a little. “We sure can’t,” he agrees. Tense air settles between the two of them as they both wait for the other to make the first move. Namjoon’s patient, having already played his hand knowing Hoseok has nothing to trump him, but Hoseok’s stubborn. He’ll drag this out as long as humanly possible. He’ll be ninety years old, on his fourth heart transplant, and still waiting to go on this trip. He’ll—
He’ll have to step down as CEO, because he has, once again, severely underestimated Kim Namjoon.
“Stop thinking so hard. It’s already booked and paid for.”
“With whose money?”
“Company card.”
“Which has my name on it. I’ll just cancel it.”
“It’s non-refundable, but go ahead. You’re still out all that money, though, so you might as well go.”
“I can’t just take a month off,” Hoseok says. He’s grasping at straws now. No one would dare tell him no, even if he wanted to take the next six years off. Human Resources would simply say of course, sir, have a great vacation, sir, see you in six years, sir, and off he’d go.
“Sure you can.” Namjoon stands, wipes his hands on the dress pants stretched to their limit across his thighs, and looks entirely too smug. “Better start looking for a date. Maybe you’ll have some luck on Tinder.”
Bile rises in Hoseok’s throat. “Tinder? Are you joking? I’m too rich to go on there. What if I find a nice date, take them home, and wake up in a bathtub full of ice because they found out who I was and decided to sell my organs?”
“No one would want them,” Namjoon deadpans. “I see the absolute filth you funnel into that body of yours and I can say, with one-hundred percent certainty, that your organs are worthless. Mine, on the other hand. Pristine—”
“Get the hell out of my office. I can’t even look at you right now.”
Good thing, too, because Namjoon’s still wearing that stupid little smirk. The really smug one that infuriates Hoseok to no end because it brings out his dimples, makes him look innocent and cute even though he’s not. The one that gloats Namjoon’s victory, like he’d known all along it was going to end this way. He’d hid those cards so far up his sleeve, Hoseok’s surprised they hadn’t started sprouting from his ears. God, he’s really insufferable. Makes Hoseok’s blood pressure spike something fierce.
“Did you ever stop to consider you’re the problem?” Hoseok calls to Namjoon’s retreating frame. When had he gotten so broad? “That maybe, if my heart does give out, it’ll be because I have to deal with you, the most stressful person on earth?”
“Nah, it’ll definitely be because two of your desk drawers are full of those disgusting oatmeal creme pies.” Somehow, Namjoon looks even more smug as Hoseok tries to discreetly glance at the aforementioned drawers. How does he find out all these things? “Anyway, you leave in two weeks! Good luck in your search. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, sir.”
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Just as he’d assumed would be the case, Hoseok has no luck on Tinder.
See, he’d fucked up from the beginning, deciding to be honest and truthful and explain his plight to any sympathetic pair of eyes that may have gazed upon it. He’d also decided to use his real name, and anyone familiar with those List of Billionaires We Should Eat listicles had snuffed him out immediately. Long gone were the days of genuine conversation and playful flirting. Now, Hoseok’s inbox is full of more genitalia than he’s ever seen in his life. He’s literally drowning in it and can’t even take time to appreciate the situation in which he’s accidentally found himself.
He’s absolutely going to kill Kim Namjoon once this is all over.
After getting over the embarrassment of the next day’s MULTIMILLIONAIRE CEO JUNG HOSEOK SPOTTED ON TINDERheadline, because he hadn’t even had the good sense to use Raya, Hoseok resigns himself to scrolling through the contacts list in his phone. He’s not desperate or stupid enough to invite his ex, or any of the myriad of names he can’t put to faces because, despite what Namjoon says, he’s still concerned about his organs, so he also resigns himself to calling you.
His best friend.
Who’s going to spend the rest of her life roasting him over this.
“What a pleasant surprise,” you greet him. “Haven’t heard from you in weeks. Let me guess, you need me to make another burner account and explain to Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter why they shouldn’t eat you?”
“No—”
You tsk. “That’s a shame. I think I missed my calling in life.”
“Being a Twitter troll?”
“Yeah, obviously,” you agree. “Do you remember that time I set up the fake Gofundme to pay for my conservative cousin’s cephalanalectomy surgery because the liberal snowflake surgeon refused to perform it and he was going to die if they literally did not remove his head from his ass? That was fucking gold, Hobi. I’m a natural.”
“You’re definitely something,” he acquiesces. Then he has an idea. “Hey, do you wanna help me troll Namjoon?”
Your silence is deafening. “Uh, that depends.” Oh, Hoseok does not like your hesitation at all. “He has, like, a lot of Twitter followers, so I’m not trying to beef with him publicly, even if it is on a burner account.”
“Don’t tell me you’re afr—what the fuck kind of Twitter following does this guy have?”
“It’s probably better if you don’t know,” you say, voice laced with faux-concern. “I like Namjoon and I’d like him to remain employed by you simply so he can annoy the absolute fuck out of you until the day you either retire or die. So, yeah, let’s keep that between him and I.”
Hoseok feels dizzy. Probably because he’s been eating all these goddamn salads and now he’s nutritionally deficient. “Whatever. I do actually need your help with something, though.”
“You know my rates.”
“Why do I have to pay to hang out with you?” Hoseok whines. “Isn’t my life-long friendship enough?”
You snort. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why is everyone bullying me lately? Can’t you spare a crumb of empathy for your best friend?”
“Empathy machine broke,” you deadpan. “Come on, ask me what my terms are. I already know what I want this time.”
Hoseok sighs. He wouldn’t relent this quickly for anyone else. He has a reputation to uphold, after all. “Fine. What are your—”
“I want a Birkin bag and dinner from that new Brazilian place by your office.”
“That’s a definite no on the bag,” Hoseok says. “I’m not spending that much money on anyone who isn’t my future spouse. We can have dinner, though.”
“I think you misheard me, sunshine. I said I want to go to dinner there. I’m going to gorge myself on expensive all-you-can-eat meats and I do not want to taint my experience watching you shovel a miserable, wilted salad into that pretty little heart-shaped mouth of yours. I’ll get agita.”
“Agi—I can’t believe this,” Hoseok whines, feeling the apples of his cheeks tinge red. “Have you and Namjoon been getting together to conspire against me? Is that why the two of you are bullying me?”
Hoseok expects you to say no. He expects you to say that you and Namjoon don’t even speak, you’d only met him once at that Christmas party a year ago, during which Namjoon spent the entire time waxing poetic about conifers and that time he dropped acid at Yosemite and cried for a week straight. But no. No, you don’t say anything at all, and if Hoseok was feeling bullied and just a little scandalized before, he’s absolutely feeling tortured now.
Namjoon, on his own, is bad.
You, on your own, are worse.
The two of you, together? No. Hoseok simply can’t—and won’t—allow it.
You suck in a breath. “In my defense—”
“You absolute traitor,” Hoseok seethes. “You, of all people, have betrayed me?”
There’s a tiny gasp on the other end of the line. “Oh, come off it, Hobi!” you snap. “Have you ever seen yourself eat? It’s foul. Like something straight out of Animal Planet.”
“It is not!”
“It is, and you know it,” you fire back. “I once watched you eat an entire personal-sized pizza in forty-two seconds. I don’t even think you chewed it. You just detached your jaw like some kind of creepy snake and inhaled. Something needed to be done.”
It’s Hoseok’s turn to gasp. “And that something was going full Judas Iscariot and selling me out to the Romans for thirty pieces of silver?”
There’s a pause on your end. “Is Namjoon the Romans in this scenario? Because, if so, I’ve got to say—”
“Who cares!” Hoseok snaps. “Who fucking cares who the Romans are—”
“The Romans, probably,” you chime in unhelpfully.
“—because the two of you have officially given me agita. How’s that? Huh? First I have to sit through all of Namjoon’s lunch lectures—”
“He should trademark that. Has a nice ring to it. Namjoon’s Lunch Lectures.”
“—then, I had to start eating salads. Salads. Then he signs me up for some stupid wellness retreat in the goddamn rainforest and tells me I have to find a fucking date, so off I go to Tinder, but everyone on there only wanted me for my harvestable organs, so I was like, ‘You know what, Hoseok? You know who you can always count on? Your best friend of twenty years. She’s never let you down. She’ll go with you, and the two of you will have a good time, because she’s your best friend and you enjoy her company.’ But no, come to find out—”
There’s a very loud shriek of laughter. “Oh my god. Holy shit, Hobi, is that really why you called? Namjoon actually signed you up for that couple’s retreat?”
Now, there’s a very loud shriek of disbelief. “You fucking knew about that?” You try to contain your snort. Really, you do, but it’s no match for Hoseok’s palpable ire. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”
“Oh, come on! It’ll be good for you, sunshine. You’re clearly overworked. You had visible stress lines in the last selfie you posted on Instagram.”
“I did not, I use hyaluronic acid!” he insists, but if Hoseok swipes out of your call to pull up his Instagram account, no one has to know.
You groan. “Why do you keep arguing with me? I’m never wrong.”
“Yes you are.” There’s a very pointed pause during which Hoseok can very clearly, in his head, hear you say see?
“Listen,” you say, voice strong with all the conviction of a person who hadn’t spent the last five minutes being a menace to society—and Hoseok. “I’ll go with you. I have some time off from my program and there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend a whole month in the rainforest with you.”
“I feel like that was sarcastic.”
You tut. “Honestly, Hobi, it’s like you don’t even know me at all. You know number three on my bucket list is going to Costa Rica to hang out with sloths.”
His phone pings a second later with a text from you. An article about a sloth sanctuary greets him, and he swallows the immediate ew that’s on the tip of his tongue. Sloths are cute, sure, but they also have bugs. “Great,” he chokes out. “Are you gonna meet a sloth and turn into Kristen Bell? Because I’m not signing up for that. You look like Kim Kardashian when you cry.”
“Fuck you.” Hoseok is a millionaire, he doesn’t deserve this treatment. “Now, what are your plans for tomorrow night? Let’s do dinner. We need to take a bunch of selfies during sunsets so we look like a plausible couple.”
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When he was eight and you were seven, Hoseok witnessed his first act of violence.
A kid on the school bus had been giving him a hard time. Nothing totally awful, just being a bit of a dick the way kids are wont to do, and Hoseok was a pushover back then. Just wanted everyone to like him so he never really stuck up for himself. Just smiled and laughed off the teasing and cried about it later.
Apparently this was unacceptable to you.
You tossed your bookbag in Hoseok’s lap, pushed up your sleeves, made your way to the back of the bus, and told that kid you’d slam his head into the window if he didn’t stop picking on Hoseok.
He’d gotten his head slammed into the window approximately fourteen seconds later.
(Never messed with Hoseok again, though.)
Since then, the two of you have been nearly inseparable. Sure, there had been petty arguments here and there, and Hoseok had gone to an Ivy League across the country, but it was rare for the two of you to go more than a few days without talking. Even now, when Hoseok works eighty hour weeks and is busy being a Very Important Person, he still makes time for you. Sometimes that time is just exchanging stupid memes over text, but he always makes the effort.
Which is why, even though you don’t see the point in crafting some elaborate backstory and had only said the thing about the sunset selfies to con him into coming over, he stays quiet and shows up to your apartment for dinner and worldbuilding anyway, because it’s been too long since he’s last been here and he misses you.
“Are you taking notes?” Hoseok asks, pointing at you with his fork. “This is important.”
You groan into your wine glass. “Fake dating is so hard,” you whine. “Why can’t we just tell the truth?”
He levels you with a stare. “Because! Don’t you think it’s a bit…”
“What, you think it’s totally unbelievable that I could be in love with you?”
Oh. Hoseok doesn’t like this at all, either. Doesn’t like the way the words sound in your mouth. Doesn’t like the way his stomach drops as he digests them. Doesn’t like how nice they sound, like you’d just waded through all the extracurricular bullshit to get straight to the point and arrive at the inevitable conclusion, which is the two of you riding off together into that sunset you’d mentioned before.
He doesn’t like feeling like he might want that.
It’s not like he’s never thought about it. You’re his best friend and he has 20/20 vision, so of course he has. It's always just been one of those things: didn’t want to ruin your friendship, moved across the country, got too busy, didn’t think you’d want him like that in return.
“I—no,” he says unconvincingly. “I just… it’d totally be weird, right? Us pretending to be a couple?” He throws in a chuckle for good measure, as if the thought of dating you is so preposterous it simply has to be a joke.
You just shrug. Where Hoseok is all nervous jitters, you’re solid and unshaken, always. “Not really. We’ve been friends forever. We’re obviously comfortable with each other. You showing up to my place in those disgusting crochet shoes is proof enough of that.”
Hoseok looks down at his feet and frowns. “They’re Valentino.”
“More like Valenti-no.”
He rolls his eyes. “See, that right there is why we can’t wing this. I can’t pretend to like your awful jokes. I’ll out myself immediately.”
You roll yours right back. “Nah, I think it works. You’re obviously the high-strung CEO who doesn’t appreciate good humor when he sees it and I’m the sad housewife who just wants you to laugh at my jokes.” You jut out your bottom lip and pretend to cry. “Why won’t you just laugh at my jokes, Hobi?”
He flicks a green bean at you. “How’d we go from fake dating to fake marriage? Stop trying to swindle me.”
Once again, you pout dramatically. “God, first you refuse to laugh at my jokes, now you refuse to marry me? You’re breaking my heart here.”
“I’m not buying you a ring,” Hoseok scoffs. “I know for a fact you’ll just turn around and sell it for triple the price to some poor, unsuspecting bastard.”
“Not my fault there’s a lot of poor, unsuspecting bastards in the world. All of this just proves, for the billionth time, that I’m the better businessperson between the two of us.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Hoseok sighs. “Just because your lemonade stand outsold mine once doesn’t mean—”
“I also outsold you during that candle fundraiser in the fifth grade. And the candybars during Little League. And that bullshit one in high school with the pineapple pizzas—”
“Fine!” Hoseok throws his hands up. Then, with as little of a grimace as he can muster, he says, “Let’s go to Costa Rica, Mrs. Jung.”
It doesn’t land.
Your jaw drops immediately, an exaggerated gag spilling from your lips. “I changed my mind,” you deadpan. “No marriage for us unless you take my last name.”
“What’s wrong with mine?”
“Feels bad in my mouth. What’s wrong with mine?”
Hoseok rolls his lips together. “Nothing, really. Just—”
“Is this some kind of male pride thing? You refuse to take your wife’s last name for fear of public ridicule and castration jokes?”
“No.” Hoseok glares at you. “It’s just—the reservation’s in my name. Besides, if someone made shitty jokes about you, I’d slam their head into a window, too.”
“Oh.” As soon as your jaw snaps shut, a brilliant smile splits your face. “That was unexpectedly wholesome, Seok. You’re getting soft in your old age.”
Only for you, he wants to say. Instead, he shoves another forkful of rice in his mouth and a copy of the itinerary in your direction.
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(For all your bravado and willingness to slam the heads of elementary school bullies into windows, you hate flying. So, if you squeeze Hoseok’s hand too tight and he snaps a photo of it under the guise of how comically purple-red it’s turning, and not at all because it’s the first time you’re holding his hand and some weird, sentimental part of him wants to commemorate it, that’s his business.
If his heart is so full it nearly bursts out of his chest at the sight of you crying over a sloth, and if he memorizes the stars in your eyes as you hold one—not caring about the bugs or the giant claws or the fact that sloth fur kind of looks like a bird nest, algae included—that’s his business.
If he posts the photo of you crying to his Instagram, knowing damn well you’re going to yell at him for it later, and he cackles wildly over Namjoon’s comment:
[namjooning commented: why does she cry like that kim kardashian meme? junghoseok replied: Right? That’s what I said]
—that’s his business. It’s only because he’d said you look like Kim Kardashian when you cry and, if nothing else, Hoseok loves to be proven right. It has nothing to do with wanting to remember you that happy forever. Not at all.
If he feels like he’s going into cardiac arrest when you hug him tightly, murmuring a quiet thank you in his ear on the last night of your stay at the sanctuary, it’s simply because you’re not very tactile. Hugs—and outward affection—from you are rare. That’s all. His skin absolutely does not break out in goosebumps. Doesn’t feel tingly all over. His breathing continues as normal.
If he finally comes to the startling realization that he’s in way too deep when you fall asleep on his shoulder during the drive to the resort, well…
Hoseok may be deadly smart, but he’s always been a complete fool when it comes to you.
If he sends a panicked text to Namjoon asking how he’s supposed to survive the next month, and if Namjoon misinterprets it as an ambitious, live-to-work type-A personality freaking out over not knowing how to unwind and tells him to just take it easy, and Hoseok misinterprets that as go for it, well…
The next four weeks sure are going to be interesting, aren’t they?)
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See, the thing about Hoseok is he has all the money and prestige a man of his status could want.
He’s filthy rich, he’s well-respected, he’s kind. People love him. He loves people in return. He’s been called the living embodiment of actual sunshine more times than you or he could possibly count. There’s truly nothing he wants for in this world.
Hoseok is also the type of person who gets anxious at the thought of calling the Malaysian restaurant you two frequent to place a delivery order. Namjoon has to force him to make his own personal appointments under threat of death. He changed doctors because his new one lets him schedule appointments online. He won’t go to a fast food drive-thru unless they have mobile ordering.
It’s just the way Hoseok is. He’s been that way as long as you’ve known him—at least since that time in the fifth grade when his mother once gave him twenty bucks and told him to call the pizza place and order dinner for the two of you and he totally balked, resigning the two of you to toaster oven Ellio’s that tasted way too similar to skating rink pizza to be a coincidence.
Which is why he balks again as soon as the two of you reach the front desk of the resort, shoving you in front of him to talk to the man behind it.
Maybe it’s the raging pansexual inside Hobi rather than his uncharacteristic fear of talking to literally anyone, but you totally get it. You don’t really want to talk to this man, either. He’s ash blond and bathed in golden light, highlighting his already golden skin to look completely ethereal, and he’s got a smug look on his face that tells you he knows exactly how intimidatingly good-looking he is.
Still, you’re not easily shaken. Jung Hoseok is your best friend—and fake boyfriend, lest you’ve forgotten—for fuck’s sake. You’ve committed violence for him. Golden Desk Boy is going to have to try a whole lot harder than this. “Hiii,” you say, lips painted in a saccharine smile. God, you’re so fake. “We’re checking in under Jung.”
The man—whose name badge says Jimin—returns your fake smile. “Great! Thank you so much for joining us for your stay.”
You take a moment to look around while Jimin pulls up your reservation, purposefully skipping over Hoseok’s form. He’s not doing anything, just sitting in a plush armchair as he pretends to read the newspaper, but you feel the flames of annoyance licking at your heels nonetheless, because you wouldn’t be here to begin with if it weren’t for Hoseok and his subordinate micromanager, and what kind of weird place has he brought you to?
Everything is white. Not in the sterile kind of way, because the monotony is broken up with lush greenery and the occasional piece of teak furniture, but there’s enough white for you to wonder if it’s some sort of statement. The floors and walls are white. All the non-wooden furniture is white. Jimin’s silk uniform and teeth are both blindingly white. Not that you’d seen many people since you stepped into the lobby, but the ones you had seen had been wearing white, too.
Jimin looks up from the computer screen and you’re almost surprised to find his irises aren’t white, too. Maybe it’s rude, but he seriously gives you the creeps. “Everything is ready for your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Jung. I’ve requested someone come to retrieve your luggage.”
You gawk. “Oh, we’re not—we’re not married.”
“Oh?” Jimin asks, one perfect eyebrow arched as his eyes twinkle with intrigue.
“Yeah,” you insist. “Not that I need to explain my morals and ethics to a stranger, but I don’t believe in the patriarchy.”
“Really? That’s great,” Jimin lies. This man is overflowing with shithead energy. “Neither do I.”
You scoff. “Oh, sure. That’s why you just assumed my bes—my partner and I were married.”
“That’s what the reservation says.” He looks very amused now. Kim Namjoon is going to receive a very lengthy text message in approximately ten minutes. “I do apologize for this mistake. I’ll make sure to correct it right away.” Amusement slowly morphs into a challenge. “Is there a new last name I can put on the reservation for you instead?”
Call it a hunch, but you think it best to not give this person any of your identifying information. “No.”
“Shall I leave it as Jung, then?”
It physically pains you to say this, but you manage to choke out a very strained, “Yes.”
“Fantastic,” Jimin sing-songs. “I’m very glad we were able to sort out this issue for you, Mr. and Mrs. Jung.”
Choke on a dick and die is what you want to say (for no reason, really; it isn’t like Jimin’s been outright cruel to you), but as much as Hoseok avoids people—and avoids confrontation even more—he appears at your side, looking every bit the sunshine after a storm he always is. “Everything okay?” he asks, placing a gentle hand at the small of your back. “…Dear,” he tacks on as Jimin’s eyes study the two of you.
“Everything’s great!” you chirp, determined to cast away Jimin’s obvious suspicions. “Jimin here says someone’s coming to get our bags.” Another fake, saccharine smile. Like sweet’n low. “He’s been very helpful.”
Everything’s great, in you-speak, translates to I once, foolishly, thought Kim Namjoon was on my side. I now see the errors of my ways and I demand justice and revenge. Fool you once (getting roped into being Hoseok’s fake partner to come to a weird wellness retreat), shame on Namjoon. Fool you twice (allowing him to book the reservation and label you a married couple), shame on you. There won’t be a third time, because Kim Namjoon’s days are numbered once you’re both in the same country again.
“Will you be needing a tour?” Jimin asks, voice tinkling like expensive crystal.
You grasp Hoseok’s hand far too tight to be believable and wave off the receptionist. “No, thank you! Just a map will do. That’s how we met, you know—at a… map… class.”
“A map class?” Jimin parrots. “Riveting.” He smiles. Sweet’n low.
“It sure was!” You turn to Hobi. “Wasn’t it? …Babe,” you choke out. The word tastes so gross on your tongue.
When you look up at him, Hoseok’s wearing that trademark expression of his: the one where his eyes are too wide, tight-lipped smile stretched too thin. Hoseok’s convinced it’s convincing. It isn’t. It’s terrifying and makes your skin feel itchy from the inside. “Mmm, yep,” he agrees easily. “Love a good map. Some good… cartography.” He pinches three fingers together because he’d seen it on The Sopranos and it’s just a thing he does now.
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Sometimes you forget Hoseok is rich-rich.
Of course Namjoon had mentioned booking the trip on the company card and of course you know what someone like him having access to a company card implies. It’d implied you were going on an all-expenses-paid trip on some massive company’s dime. But, perhaps naively, you’d just envisioned a fancy hotel room at some resort near a beach. Shoreline bonfires, tiny portions of food on massive plates when you order room service, colorful drinks with tiny umbrellas and a skewer of fruit stuck inside, three-digit price tag.
Instead, the two of you follow the map to a secluded, private house. There’s a balcony. The shower is made entirely of glass and surrounded by the lush greenery outside. The exterior wall in the bedroom is also made of glass and affords you panoramic views of the beach and forest and everything in between. The thread count of the Egyptian cotton sheets is disgustingly low.
(Which, speaking of Hoseok and all his money—he’d been the one to teach you about thread counts to begin with. You’d wrongfully assumed the higher the number the better, but Hoseok had gently grabbed the scratchy 1500 count sheets out of your hands with a pained grimace and handed you a set of Supima cotton sheets with a startlingly low thread count instead.
Rich people have everything backwards.)
Truth be told, it’s exactly the kind of place you’d see on some influencer’s Instagram account. The kind of place they’d delude you into thinking you could afford, too, because having your influencer boyfriend take a picture of you sinking into the lush white duvet and plastering a $10 filter on it is more important than affording your student loan payments.
But you digress.
Either way, you’ll have to send a thank you card to the board of directors.
Hoseok, on the other hand, balks for the second time. Takes one look at the singular bed and completely shuts down, Windows sound effects practically blaring over an invisible loudspeaker above his head once again. “Where’s the other bed?” he asks stupidly.
You snort. Stash your suitcase in the corner. You’ll unpack it later… or next week. Whenever you get around to it, really. “What other bed?”
“You know, like. The other one.”
“There’s only one, Seok. Why would there be two? This is a couple’s retreat.”
He pouts. “Not every couple sleeps together, you know. My grandparents have separate bedrooms.”
“No offense, bud, but your grandfather also wears diapers.”
“So?”
“So there might be a correlation, is what I’m saying.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as your husband of seventy years just because he might pee the bed sometimes?”
You level him with a look. Unpacking doesn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore. “I’m well past the age where I could conceivably be married to someone for seventy years, so it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re not even thirty yet.”
You click your tongue. “Hoseok, you of all people know I never expected to live past the age of thirteen. There’s no way I’m making it to ninety-seven.”
“You only thought you were gonna die when you were thirteen because you had your appendix removed.” You give him another look. “And you got your tonsils removed that same year.” Another one. “What?” he huffs. “What’d I forget?”
“That time we were playing volleyball in gym class and you spiked the ball right in my face and broke my nose.”
“Not a life-threatening injury.”
“Thirteen was a really hard year for me,” you retort, overdramatic as always. “It’s a miracle I survived.”
“Oh my god—”
“A miracle, Hobi.”
With a disapproving shake of his head, he’s off to unpack his luggage, because Hoseok is filthy rich and has expensive clothes that, according to him, cannot, under any circumstances, go hours without being hung up properly. You’ve never seen a silk shirt with a wrinkle in it, let alone a wrinkle on any article of Hoseok’s clothing, but you learned a long time ago it’s much less stressful to just let him be neurotic about his wardrobe.
You, on the other hand, are going to do no such thing. You’ll live out of your suitcase for as long as you can get away with it, so you flop face-first onto the bed, careful to leave your shoes dangling off the edge. Hoseok’s already going to give you shit about—
“Yah!” he wails, his fifteenth white button-down shirt draped haphazardly off a hanger. “No street clothes in the bed!”
You roll your eyes. “Street clothes? Who says shit like that? Most people just have clothes.”
“You’ve been wearing them all day,” Hoseok argues, because there’s very little he loves more than an argument. “They’re dirty, and now they’ve made the bed dirty, too.”
However, to the detriment of Hoseok’s well-being, you love arguing, too. You look down at both your clothes and the pristine duvet and vaguely gesture at both. “Ah, yes. So filthy. The bed—which you’d nearly had an aneurysm over sharing with me not even ten minutes ago, might I add—is so dirty. How will we ever be able to sleep in it?”
Watching Hoseok mentally tabulate through the Seven Stages of Grief is the most entertainment you’ve had in hours. Jaw clenched, he simply stares at you for a few seconds before leveling his voice and repeating, “No street clothes in the bed.” Then he tacks on a please that’s clearly an afterthought. “Didn’t you bring loungewear? Can’t you just wear that instead?”
You did, in fact, bring loungewear. It would’ve been irresponsible not to, considering the length of your stay and proximity to paradise, but stubbornness seems to be the flavor of the day so you just shrug and toe your shoes off. “I’m not going to change. We don’t have long before we have that welcome dinner, anyway. I’m not going to put on loungewear only to change into dinner-wear and then come back, shower, and change again into pajamas.”
Hoseok’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What welcome dinner?”
“Do you not read?” you tease. “There was a whole itinerary attached to the map. We have a welcome dinner tonight with that guy Namjoon’s in love with.”
“Which one?”
You click your tongue. “The guy who runs this place.” Then you furrow your brow. “What do you mean ‘which one’?”
“Nothing. Just—you know how Namjoon is. He falls in love at least eight separate times whenever he goes to the gardening store.”
“Guess he doesn’t herb his enthusiasm.” Hoseok groans loudly as you point finger guns at him.
He lobs a mated pair of socks at your head that bounce off your ass instead. “Please just get ready for dinner. I can’t do this.”
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To put it mildly, Kim Seokjin is fucking weird.
Hoseok hadn’t noticed. He’d taken one look at him and his mischievous eyes and welcoming smile and dove right in, engaging him in endless conversation about god-knows-what. That’s just how Hoseok is. Aside from his justifiable distrust of Tinder dates, he makes and keeps friends effortlessly. It’s the sunshine in him, your mother always used to say, because Hoseok was always the sun and everyone else were sunflowers, desperate to bask in him and reflect his light.
(Namjoon has always said it’s because he’s an Aquarius. You don’t know what that means, but you assume it’ll click once you buy a few crystals and start exclusively listening to Fleetwood Mac.)
And that has always been okay—good, even. He’s never lost that innate goodness, even when he’d been placed at the head of a billion-dollar corporation where ruthlessness is encouraged. Hoseok’s edges remain rounded and soft; he emphasizes a need for kindness, shows it has a place amongst the cold, calculated world of business. Really, it’s great. You can’t be more proud to call him your best friend.
However.
It doesn’t mean Hoseok isn’t a fucking idiot sometimes.
Because he’s good, his first assumption is always that others are good, too. No matter how many times you’ve grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away from a fire, his first instinct is still to reach out and touch it.
His first serious girlfriend, back in high school? Yeah, you’d warned him about her. Told him she was messing around with a kid on the soccer team on the side, but Hoseok had insisted she’d never do that. “She’s into embroidery,” he’d said, as if that excused someone from being a two-timing cheat.
That guy he’d been partnered with for a serious project in business school? You’d listened to Hoseok talk about him over Skype once and suggested he find a new one. Kept silent as he unloaded on you a few weeks later after the guy had fucked him over.
You’d even advised him against hiring Namjoon. Couldn’t fathom why Hoseok would even be considering hiring someone who showed up to an interview hours early. Obviously he hadn’t listened, and look where it’s gotten the two of you.
It isn’t that you’ve got a sixth sense for assholes or anything. It’s just that Hoseok’s such a terrible judge of character that it makes you look like Sherlock Holmes in comparison.
So it comes as no surprise to you when Seokjin excuses himself for a moment and Hoseok turns to you with hearts in his eyes only to be greeted by your Hoseok you’re doing that thing again where you put people on a pedestal who are not to be trusted look.
“No,” he dismisses immediately. “Him? No way.”
Your nostrils flare. “Hoseok. Don’t be an idiot about this. He’s weird.”
“He’s just eccentric. Aren’t all these New Age hippie types like that? The guy runs a wellness retreat for fuck’s sake—of course he’s weird.”
“His vibes are off,” you retort, which admittedly sounds like a New Age hippie thing to say, but the longer Hoseok insists you’re wrong, the more you begin to wonder if you are. The two of you had been sent here by Namjoon, and he’s easily one of the weirdest people you’ve ever met. Maybe Hoseok’s right.
You allow yourself two minutes of self-doubt. Then you’re shaking your head and poking your tongue into the fat of your cheek because you know bad vibes when you feel them and Kim Seokjin has them in spades.
The man in question returns a few moments later, two new men in tow: a taller one with a boxy smile and a tan and a shorter one with a scowl that looks permanent but not on purpose, like it’d just shown up on his face one day and forgot to leave. The grumpy-looking one sits across from Hoseok, looking every bit as unsure as you, while the other one takes the empty seat to his left, right in front of you.
“I’m Taehyung,” he says, ass barely in the chair before he’s leaning over the table to shake your hand. His feels like a hand that’s shaken many others—firm, warm, soft. Feels a lot like shaking Hoseok’s hand might feel, an importance simmering beneath the surface, but you’ve never had a reason to do so. “This is Yoongi.” Taehyung gestures to the man beside him. “He doesn’t talk much but you get used to him, I think.”
“You think?” Hoseok laughs, an eyebrow quirked, fully in his element. Words soft, edges softer. Hoseok was born for these types of moments. Meeting strangers, knowing what to say.
Yoongi stays quiet. Barely looks around the room, which is a feat in itself. Seokjin had invited all of you to dinner in a grand dining hall, walls tall and floors gleaming, both stark white like the rest of the resort. Immediately sat at the head of the table like some sort of king, and you would’ve thought something of it, maybe looked at Hoseok and mouthed what’s this guy’s deal? But then he placed his napkin neatly across his lap, looked at the two of you, smiled dazzlingly, and said, “Is cereal soup?”
It had all gone downhill from there, really.
Now Taehyung and Yoongi are seated across from you and Hoseok and Yoongi still hasn’t said a word and you’re hoping maybe, just maybe, he’s also picking up on how weird all of this is. Taehyung has that exuberant optimism that reminds you a lot of Hoseok so you disregard him as a comrade immediately. Just the kind of guy to love any and everyone, oblivious to bad vibes. No, Yoongi’s the one you need on your side and it’s glaringly obvious.
One small hiccup, though: he really doesn’t talk.
Like, at all.
Taehyung talks enough for the both of them, endearing everyone with a smile and an endless supply of stories told in that deep baritone voice of his. Every now and then he’ll turn to Yoongi and say isn’t that right, dumpling? and Yoongi just hums an acknowledgment. Doesn’t seem put off by the pet name at all, despite looking like someone that’d be put off by pet names.
They’re cute. You mouth as much to Hoseok and he just smiles at you in return, a soft little thing. Yoongi and Taehyung are the kind of couple who give off we’ve been together for decades energy even though they don’t look much older than you. Just two people completely at ease with one another, and it does something to your stomach. All small, hidden touches and words communicated through looks alone. Best friends and lovers. Partners both in crime and in life.
It’s a sweet moment.
It’s a moment completely negated by Seokjin’s booming voice at the head of the table. “Well, this was fun, wasn’t it? Let’s move to the lounge.”
Yoongi doesn’t look to Taehyung. Yoongi looks to you, and it’s only because you’d looked at him instead of Hoseok that you notice the subtle downturn of the corners of his mouth, the slight pinch between his brows. He doesn’t outright ask it, but there’s a question in his body language: What’s this guy’s deal?
It’s one you’d also like an answer to.
Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time the five of you talk in the lounge. Well, Taehyung’s once again speaking for both of them, hands and arms gesturing wildly all around him, and Yoongi seems more than content to sit in silence. Seokjin and Hoseok chime in where they should, asking questions and emphasizing words and generally being agreeable. You, on the other hand, sit next to Hoseok and try to exude the same energy Taehyung and Yoongi do. The we’re so in love and comfortable with each other we don’t even need to touch type. The we only post selfies together three times a year because we don’t need to flaunt our relationship variety.
But, as all inevitable things inevitably do, the conversation moves to relationships. Seokjin sneaks it in under the guise of getting to know everyone, and Taehyung takes the bait immediately, seemingly always looking for a reason to show off Yoongi and talk him up. You hate that it’s endearing. You hate that you want something like it—someone enamored with you without preamble. A just because kind of love. Something solid and bone-deep.
“It was totally by accident,” Taehyung’s saying as your attention drifts back to him. Not soon enough, because he’s clearly halfway through a story and you have no idea what the plot is. “We’d both been backpacking through Europe, and I was trying to check in at this tiny hostel in Thessaloniki but my Greek is terrible, understandably, so I was really struggling. Trying to tell the poor woman behind the desk my name and that I’d booked a private room, and she just kept shrugging and looking at me like I was crazy. It was, like, midnight, so I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, and then out of nowhere this guy”—He jerks his thumb at Yoongi, who remains silent and still—“just comes up behind me and starts speaking fluent Greek.”
Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Fluent Greek? Wow,” he says, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe, “that’s really impressive.”
“You have no idea,” Taehyung continues to gush. “He speaks, like, fifteen languages fluently, I swear to god. Anyway, turns out the hostel never received my reservation, which makes sense because I’d tried booking it from the top of a mountain. Yoongi took pity on me and let me share his room since they were fully booked.”
Seokjin smiles and touches a hand to his heart. It’s completely performative but it works—Taehyung looks like he’s just passed some silent test and won the lottery. “Adorable. And so noble, Yoongi. Not many people would do that for a stranger.”
Yoongi shrugs.
Undeterred, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “How about the two of you? Set up by friends? Blind date?” His beady eyes are studying you both diligently, eyes raking over your face for the tiniest tell. “Childhood friends turned lovers?”
Hoseok coughs.
“We met at a cartography class,” you explain, voice even despite Seokjin’s prolonged eye contact making you want to lock yourself in the nearest bathroom. Hoseok had nearly given the two of you away, and it was all you could do to recall whatever bullshit you had tried selling Jimin to cover your asses.
Yoongi’s fighting off a smile. Taehyung looks enthralled. “Cartography? Whoa, now that’s something you definitely don’t hear everyday.”
“A lost art, if you ask me,” Seokjin says. “Are either of you geographists, then?”
Hoseok tenses, fidgeting ceasing immediately. The two of you hadn’t talked about this—about how honest you wanted to be, how much would be fabricated—so while this is typically the kind of environment he’d thrive in, you pluck the reins from his hands and take over. “Double majored back in undergrad. Geography and psych.”
“Interesting combo.”
You nod. Not the first time you’d heard that. “Well, there are things you want to do and things you should do, so I did both.”
“And what was it you wanted to do?”
You wave your hand, gesturing vaguely. “Ah, you know. You go into university with all these aspirations, have all these starry-eyed ideas. You’re gonna be someone, you’re gonna help people, you’re gonna make an impact and travel all over and be super important. People are gonna pay to hear you speak and all that bullshit.” Hoseok’s looking at you—you can feel it, but you can also see the blurred outline of his profile. “What did I want to do? Something in human geography, maybe cultural or political geography.”
“The psych degree?” Seokjin continues prodding, and you find you don’t mind it. Hoseok certainly never had. Was always far too busy doing important business things on the opposite side of the country.
“Picked it up about halfway through. Figured I should have a back-up plan in case I wound up being the only geopolitician working at Starbucks.” Your fingers start picking at your pants even though there’s nothing to grab onto. You’d only packed your best, keenly aware of the standards required to be in Jung Hoseok’s inner circle. “A lot of the research and analysis courses overlapped, so I just… did it.”
“That’s very ambitious.” Seokjin’s compliment feels like some weird kind of approval, like another unspoken test Taehyung would grin over passing. “And now? You’d mentioned undergrad.”
“Started a post-bacc in GIS since I liked doing research. Hence the cartography class.”
Hence the cartography class, as if that’s the end of it and there’s nothing else to say. Like you hadn’t dropped out of that to pursue a Master’s in psychology and maybe med school or a PhD to follow, because your mother would be proud of someone with a doctorate, right? You could finally stop hearing—
Did you hear Hoseokie got an internship at Google? They pay $8,000 a month!
Did you hear Hoseokie graduated at the top of his class? His mother said he didn’t even have to apply to any MBA programs, they recruited him! He’s torn between Stanford and the University of Penn. Isn’t that a nice problem to have?
Did you hear that Hoseokie finished his program early? He’s so smart. His parents must be so proud of him.
Did you hear Hoseokie’s moving back? Just an associate vice president position for now, but his mother says there’s already talks of him being promoted to CEO within the next few years.
That’s not to say you weren’t proud of him or that you were resentful. You’ve always been Hoseok’s biggest fan, but Hoseok had moved across the country and still casted a shadow so large it was impossible to not be swallowed up by it, and it’s hard to have all the things you want to hear be said about someone else.
So, yeah, hence the cartography class.
“What about you, Hoseok? You’ve been quiet.”
Hoseok’s never quiet. When you turn to look at him, he’s already staring back. There’s no perpetual million-dollar smile, no wrinkles at the corner of his eyes from laughing too much, smiling too much, enjoying life too much. There’s just a concerned look that you don’t really know what to do with, because you’ve spent so much of your life worrying over Hoseok—over his concerning judge of character, his inability to cook, those kids on the schoolbus, his diet and now his organs—that things feel out of sorts now that the script is flipped.
It takes him a while to come back down to earth, realize someone has asked him a question. “Business,” is all he says.
He’s still staring.
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Things are tense.
Weird-tense, because things are never tense between you and Hoseok. Not even back in high school when you’d threatened his then-girlfriend, the one who was cheating on him, and she ratted you out. Hoseok had shown up all red in the face, talked a lot about what would happen if you ruined things for him, but you’d just said alright, Hobi, whatever you say and things had gone back to normal.
But back in your overpriced rental house, things are definitely weird-tense.
“You never told me any of that.”
Ah. You shrug, toweling off your hair after your shower, and rifle through your suitcase for suitable pajamas. “You never asked.”
“I thought the map story was bullshit. You never—you double majored?”
Isn’t this so typical, you think. You could write a biography on Hoseok, all his accomplishments and dreams and all those silly little subplots that connect at the end, and he didn’t even know your college major. Majors. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
In the bathroom, you go through your skincare routine on autopilot and floss and brush your teeth. Try to rid yourself of the taste of disappointment. Smear cold cream under your eyes and try to pretend the sting is from the scent and not welling tears, because this is not something to cry over. This is stupid and unimportant, and you now have two and a half degrees in psychology that tell you how to deal with it.
But Hoseok’s reluctant to let it go. Wants to talk it to death when you’re more than happy to never discuss it again. You’re twenty-seven, meaning you’ve had at least five years to accept the fact that your mother had given all her pride to Hoseok instead. You’re not really keen on spending another five years feeling inadequate. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He appears in the doorway of the bathroom looking positively distressed. “Mom had only told me about the psych degree and that you were trying to get into UCLA for your Master’s. She never said anything about the geography degree.”
You just shrug. “Things you want to do and things you should, right?”
Hoseok doesn’t buy it. “Was telling me what was going on in your life not something you wanted to do, then?” He looks stung.
You’re tired, still a little fucked up from the jet lag and sitting through a bizarre dinner and serving yourself up on a silver platter to an even more bizarre man that now knew something about you that not even Hoseok had known. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, because you’re even more loose-lipped than usual when tired and prone to irritability, and provoking an argument on the first night of a month-long vacation is not something you’re going to do.
And Hoseok—
Hoseok must get it, you think, because he seems to deflate. Just sighs, shoulders hunched, before he steps aside to let you out of the bathroom. No argument, no thinly-veiled threats, no guilt-trips. Resignation: the same kind Namjoon had spoken about when he’d relayed the story of how the wellness retreat came to be.
A resigned Hoseok is probably a dangerous Hoseok, but you’re too exhausted to give a shit. You’ll strategize in the morning, come up with a new plan.
Except the morning comes and Hoseok doesn’t mention it at all.
He doesn’t say anything about it for the next three days, actually, which are all the same and go like this:
On the morning of day two, Hoseok reluctantly wakes you up just after six. There’s a small offering of fruit and coffee waiting for you on a tray that you promptly ignore in lieu of going back to sleep, which lasts until approximately 6:06am when Hoseok wakes you again. The two of you are scheduled for a morning yoga session at seven-o’clock, which is supposedly mandatory and can’t be canceled.
Taehyung takes the mat next to you, leaning over to ask, “Have you ever done this before?” with a slightly panicked expression on this face.
“Every Saturday morning back home,” you answer. Taehyung chuckles nervously, and your experience becomes painfully clear when you’re nailing your Sugarcane pose and everyone else topples over sideways. Yoongi doesn’t make a sound as he hits the floor, and he’s so quiet that your instructor misses him completely when they fret around the room helping everyone else.
You’re so distracted by helping Yoongi yourself that you miss the deep furrow of Hoseok’s brow. And the crestfallen look on his face. Just another thing he hadn’t known.
After you survive yoga, the two of you sit through an awkward breakfast with Taehyung, Certified Chatterbox, and Yoongi, Not One. Taehyung doesn’t comment on Hoseok’s newfound quietude, which is a little surprising, but Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you that makes your coffee suddenly taste stale.
Between the hours of nine and one, Hoseok disappears to go to the spa or the gym or the gift shop, because he is literally incapable of not spending money. You’re waiting for him to realize how weird it is for a wellness retreat to sell souvenirs but he never brings it up, just strolls back into the room each time and dumps a concerning amount of magnets into his suitcase.
(You wonder if any of them are for your mother. You wonder what she’ll think about this—you and Hoseok going to a couple’s retreat together, playing pretend. You wonder if bagging someone like Hoseok would finally make her proud of you and how shallow that is.)
After lunch, which is barely less awkward than breakfast, the four of you are ushered into a so-called Meditation Clinic, hosted by a very muscular guy with a baby face and a lot of tattoos. His name is Jungkook, and he nearly sends Hoseok into Sexuality Crisis Episode No. 2. Hoseok doesn’t do a damn second of meditating for three days, just stares at the wall looking like a baby who’d just been tricked into sucking on a lemon. Taehyung chatters away at you the entire time, completely oblivious to Jungkook’s annoyed stare. You share an exasperated look with Yoongi on your way out.
Hoseok returns to your rental home on the evening of day three looking scandalized. Apparently, this is the result of him running into Jimin, who’d offered to read and analyze his birth chart for him. Apparently, this is Jimin’s second job when there’s no new check-ins to harass. Apparently, Hoseok has been “read for filth” by “the stars” and “doesn’t wish to discuss it further.”
(Interestingly, Jimin corners you not long after. There’s a dangerous twinkle in his eye as he says, “Curious?” and gestures to a small room just off the lounge.
“The curtain’s kind of corny, isn’t it?” you say, scoffing as one strand of beads smacks you in the side of the head. “Like, this all feels very mysterious carnival tent and not billion-dollar resort, y’know?”
Jimin takes a seat behind a large desk, completely void of decoration. You’re not sure what you expected—some tarot cards, maybe a crystal ball to sell the illusion—but it’s empty. “You must have Leo placements,” he mutters.
“Moon and Mars, actually. Lucky guess.”
He gestures for you to take the seat in front of him. “Mm, not really luck, they’re just really good at lying.”
“And what am I lying about?”
Jimin ignores your question. Instead, he cocks his head to the side and says, “When’s your birthday?”
“Aren’t you the astrologer? Take a guess.” Jimin just stares, looking endlessly amused. Eventually you huff and answer. “March 15th.”
Overdramatic as always, Jimin fake-gags. “A Pisces sun with a Leo moon? Horrendous, truly. How do you function?”
“Stunted, clearly.”
He actually laughs at this, rewarding you with a brilliant smile and an endearingly crooked front tooth. “No matter.” He shakes his head, blond locks falling elegantly around his face as if arranged by the gods themselves. “You may have a truly tragic sun-moon pairing, but it bodes well for you and that neurotic mess of a best friend you’re fake-dating.”
You choke so hard Jimin actually offers you a glass of water.)
Dinners are spent as a five-piece. Seokjin asks more idiotic questions, such as are eyebrows considered facial hair, which prompts a very deep exhale from Yoongi, and did Adam and Eve have bellybuttons, which sends Taehyung into an existential crisis he’s yet to recover from.
Sometimes there are bonfires on the beach at night during which Jungkook plays an acoustic guitar and sings like an angel. Hoseok is conspicuously absent during these.
He’s also absent during your nightly routine. You shower, smear your skincare all over your face, and brush your teeth alone. You change into your pajamas and crawl into your side of the bed alone. By night three, you’re so annoyed you build a pillow wall between the two of you that you instruct Hoseok, under threat of bodily harm, not to demolish.
On the morning of day five, you’re awake before the sun. You sit in the darkness for a while, listening to Hoseok’s soft breaths on the other side of the pillow wall. He hasn’t gone five days without talking to you in twenty years. Even when he’d threatened you over his high school girlfriend, you were back in his good graces within 48 hours, and all of this for what? Because your mother is kind of an asshole and you’re kind of jealous and Hoseok is kind of self-centered sometimes?
“Hobi,” you say, leaning over the wall to nudge his shoulder. “Hobi, wake up.”
He doesn’t budge, mouth hanging open as he continues snoring quietly, these little hiccups of breath every now and then. All you can do is sigh. “Hoseok.” Nothing. “Jung Hoseok,” you try again, voice hardened into a baseless threat. He keeps snoring.
You groan, run your hands over your face in exasperation. Stupidly, you’d assumed that Hoseok would be easier to wake up now that he’s a Very Important Person worth millions of dollars. Clearly he’s not. So you throw the duvet off your legs and stumble to the bathroom in the dark. Brush your teeth and wash your face and throw on a loose long-sleeved shirt and a pair of yoga pants. It’s the weekend, so you’re free to do as you please, no mandated schedule, and you know exactly who you’re going to see.
Unsurprisingly, Taehyung is on the beach, cross-legged in the center of a large blanket close to the water but far enough away that the tide isn’t a concern. His curls are blowing gently in the breeze and every now and then he lets out a huff as he tries to flick them out of his eyes. No wonder Yoongi took pity on him back in that hostel in Thessaloniki. You’ve barely known him a week and are already hopelessly endeared by him.
“Good morning,” he says, eyes closed. Even the sun is barely awake this early, but it spills across Taehyung’s cheeks in dusky, golden rays nonetheless. “The beach is beautiful at this hour, isn’t it?”
Ah, so Taehyung’s one of those. Chatty at all hours, just like Hoseok. You groan. “Yeah, sure.”
“I have a thermos of coffee if you want some.”
“You just carry around thermoses of coffee?”
Taehyung laughs. “No. I don’t drink it, but I always make some in the morning and put it in a thermos in case today’s the day Yoongi decides to wake up before noon and join me.”
You eye the empty space next to him. “I’m guessing today’s not the day.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “After forcing him to wake up at 6am to do yoga the last few days? I might never see him again.”
“It’d be deserved, in his defense.”
Taehyung seems to think on this. Has a laugh just as airy as the gentle ocean wind, one that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world. So much like Hoseok. You wonder if you’re like Yoongi. If you’re just as closed off but more talkative. You wonder if there’s a reason Yoongi holds his cards so close to his chest or if he simply sees no reason for anyone to know him. He’s got Taehyung and fifteen languages and a lifetime’s worth of stories, what more could he need? “You’re probably right. Where’s your other half?”
“Also asleep.”
“Wow,” Taehyung deadpans, “there are parallels everywhere.”
You don’t know him well enough to know how he means it. If it’s sardonic and taking the piss out of that sort of thing the way Yoongi would mean it, or if he’s genuine how Hoseok would be. So you just hum a maybe-agreement and stare out at the ocean.
Truth be told, you’re not sure why Taehyung was the one you wanted to find. He just seems like the type to know a lot about relationships, people. Seems like someone who’d meet and befriend more people in a day than you would in five years, so someone like that’s gotta have some sort of answers.
“How long have you and Yoongi been together?”
“Oh. A long time. I was nineteen when I went to Greece and Yoongi was twenty-one, but it was such bad timing, you know? Like, I was only two months into a year-long trip, and Yoongi has to be dragged into everything kicking and screaming, so we didn’t reconnect for over a year after we met.”
“That must’ve been hard.”
Taehyung smiles: small, tender, fond. “A little, yeah, but I think that sort of stuff is inconsequential in the long run. What’s a year’s worth of distance when you’ve got the rest of your lives?” He shifts on the blanket, a frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. “Although I went to Australia a month later and got bit by this huge fucking spider, so I guess the rest of my life was questionable for a while. In that case, yeah, it would’ve been really hard.”
You hum again, and in a need to fill the silence, Taehyung asks, “What about you and Hoseok?”
“What about us?”
“How long have you been together?”
We’re not, really, sits on the tip of your tongue. Jimin has already seen straight through the bullshit, so why not Taehyung, too? What’s the worst that can happen—they kick you out because you’re not a proper couple? What does that even mean? You’ve known Hoseok for twenty years. You watched him grow into a successful, kind, intelligent adult from a stupid-as-fuck eight-year-old. You’ve watched him fall in love and get his heart broken and piece it back together again. You know his takeout orders and his favorite color and the movies he still cries over but lies and says he doesn’t. You know the smell of his mother’s perfume when she squeals and hugs you like you’re her own. You’re one of two-hundred followers on Hoseok’s private Instagram account—the one you and Namjoon and Hoseok’s sister always join forces to bully him on when he tries posting a thirst trap.
You know what Hoseok looks like when he cries. You know what he’s like when he’s vulnerable and insecure and you know how to be a pillar for him when he’s like that, and he knows the same about you.
Some couples don’t have half of that, so what does it mean or even matter if your coupling is proper? Isn’t what you have enough?
You sigh. “We grew up together. I’ve known him for twenty years.”
“Oh.” Taehyung sucks in a breath. “I thought you’d said—”
“Yeah,” you interject. “We’re not, like, romantically involved.” Another sigh. “It’s a long story.”
Taehyung just smiles, looks at you with those butter-soft eyes, and you’re diving into twenty years of history and backstory. You tell him about punching the kid on the bus. You tell him about Hoseok’s first serious girlfriend in high school and how it made your stomach hurt—
(“Because you had a crush on him?”
“What? No.”
“Hm. Okay.”)
—and you tell him about your mother and all her misplaced pride. He laughs at every story you tell him about Namjoon and how you and Hoseok wound up at this weird wellness retreat. He stops laughing when you tell him that you and Hoseok haven’t spoken properly in days, and his eyebrows get very serious when you admit it’s the reason you came to find him.
“You just look like someone who might know how to help me fix it,” you finish.
Taehyung tries—and fails—to not look pleased as punch at this. “I’m generally very unhelpful. Well, Yoongi says I’m not-not helpful, but sometimes I try to help too much and wind up making things worse.” You shoot him a dubious look. “I won’t do that this time, though, I promise! Please consider me your official relationship fixer.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea anymore.”
“It probably isn’t, if I’m being totally honest, but if I can manage to make Min Yoongi fall in love with me, I’m extremely overconfident I can do just about anything.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.”
He claps his hands together. “Great! We can start with you apologizing and telling him you’ve been acting out due to temporary insanity on the basis of being in love with him for years and never saying anything.”
“Excuse me—”
“It’s best to be extremely honest about these sorts of things as to leave no room for misinterpretation or misunderstandings,” Taehyung says, tone condescending like you’re a child though it’s working overtime to not sound that way. At your slack jaw, Taehyung’s eyes grow wide. “Have you seriously never thought about it?”
“Me and Hoseok?”
Of course you’ve thought about it, it was just dismissed immediately each time. You love Hoseok; he’s the most important person in your life, and that’s exactly why you shooed those intrusive thoughts away every time they crept up. You’re not generally one to overthink on consequences, but Hoseok is always an idea you’ve treated with kiddie gloves. Something delicate. Something placed in an enclosure with 21mm glass walls and eighteen security alarms. So, sure, you’ve thought about it in the same way you’ve thought about winning the lottery or telling your PhD advisor to fuck off and moving to some remote island paradise where there’s always someone to wait on you hand and foot.
Of course you’ve thought about you and Hoseok, in the same way you think about all inevitable things (like the heat death of the universe) and also impossibilities, both wistful and staunch.
“Yeah,” you eventually answer. “Of course I have.”
Taehyung blinks owlishly. “I thought for sure you were gonna deny it.” Then the smile is back and it makes his eyes glitter like tiny stars. “But that’s great! The first step is admitting you have a problem, or whatever. Anyway! Do you still have feelings? Yoongi thinks I’m bad at reading people”—Yoongi is right, you think—“but I’ve seen the way he looks at me a million times, and sometimes that’s the same way Hoseok looks at you. So I think you should tell him.”
Snorting, you turn your gaze to the ocean. Even the water seems to still be sleepy at this hour, the waves small and gentle as they lap against the shore. “Maybe later on. Getting rejected a few days into a month-long trip doesn’t really sound like my idea of fun.”
Face scrunched up in disgust, Taehyung whines, “You wouldn’t! You’re gonna waste all this time because you think you’d get rejected when in actuality all you’re doing is wasting some really great glass walls to fuck against.”
You blanch. You can say, with one hundred percent conviction, that you’ve never thought about sleeping with Hoseok. Okay, so that’s not entirely true. There was the one time you had to defend him from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter when they threatened to eat him and one person suggested sparing him because, excessive wealth aside, he had big dick energy. That’d given you pause. Did Hoseok have a big dick?
“No way,” you retort, “Hoseok is like a Ken doll. Completely smooth from the waist down. Dickless.”
Taehyung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Another L for the gay community.”
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Hoseok sleeps until noon.
You’ve already washed the sea salt from your hair and returned to the rental house with your own small haul of gift shop magnets by the time he stirs awake, groggy and looking worse for wear. “Wha’ time s’it?” he slurs, voice far too deep for you to remain unaffected.
“Just after twelve,” you answer. “I can make you some coffee if you want.”
All you get in response is a muffled groan, Hoseok’s dandelion bed-head disappearing under the fluffy duvet once again. You’ve known him long enough to know that means yes, to know he takes his coffee with far too much cream and sugar, the liquid something close to bone white by the time he’s done adding and mixing.
You set the mug on his nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over to peel down the duvet and scratch at his scalp. “Coffee’s ready, sunshine.” Eyes still sealed shut, you move your fingers lower to tickle at his neck. “C’mon, Hobi, you’re pissing away another beautiful day in paradise.” You don’t bother telling him it’s overcast and drizzling; not like it matters, because Hoseok groans again and swats your hand away before shoving his head under his pillow.
He says something you can’t catch, words unintelligible beneath layers of down. “What’d you say?” you ask. When his head pops up, expression frustrated and cheeks flushed red, you poke the dimple in his left cheek. He has to fight off a smile.
“I asked why you’re being so nice to me.”
You frown. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”
Hoseok sighs. Adjusts until he’s sitting up, long, skinny legs tangled in the comforter. Something about his hands is so interesting he’s unable to focus on anything else. “Because I’ve been a dick to you.” When you move to protest, he tacks on, “And not just on this trip, either. For a while.” For a second, you think he might cry. Hoseok used to cry a lot as a kid—had too much empathy for such a small body to know what to do with so all the excess tended to leak out. “God, there was so much I didn’t know? Like your majors? And the yoga? I just…” He trails off, looks lost. Picks up the coffee mug just to do something with his hands. “It feels bad. It just feels really bad.”
You return his sigh, wishing Hoseok was a little less honest. Always the first to put himself out there, be vulnerable, and sometimes it’s nice and sometimes it makes you feel guilty. “It’s okay.”
“It isn’t,” he argues.
You hold up a hand. “I know where you’re coming from, and I get it. I would probably feel bad, too, if I were in your position.” He whimpers, earning a soft laugh from you. “But I’m telling you it’s okay. I don’t blame you, all right? I never have. I don’t lay in bed at night agonizing over it. This isn’t like that for me.”
“Then what’s it like?”
You hum, knowing this is a moment to handle with care. You can’t be reckless here. So you think it over, and you say, “It’s… I don’t think this happened because you don’t care, because I know you do. I know I’m your best friend in every way someone can be your best friend, and you’re my best friend in all the ways someone can be mine. It’s just that those two things look different, is what I’m saying. And I think that’s okay.”
“It’s unbalanced.”
You nod. “Yeah, maybe it is, but sometimes that happens. It hasn’t always been unbalanced.”
This seems to calm him, and his smile is slow, reluctant, but it’s there nonetheless. “Okay.” He exhales the weight of the world. “Okay. I’d still like to be better, though.”
“We have all the time in the world, Seok.”
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You normally eat most of your meals with Taehyung and Yoongi anyway, but since your conversation on the beach, Taehyung attaches to you like a limpet.
The first time had been unnerving. He’d cornered you outside the dining hall, stomach rumbling even as he demanded to know everything, please spare nothing, no detail is too small. There hadn’t been much to report, just that the two of you had talked and things were better.
“Did you tell him you’re in lo—” had earned him an elbow to the ribs.
He hasn’t asked again.
But he’s still hard to shake during mealtime, especially breakfast, because he wakes up ready to talk, conversation locked and loaded on his tongue. Yoongi, of course, doesn’t talk at all, so he offloads onto you and Hoseok, who’s too good-natured to ask for some peace and quiet.
“Seokjin asked me last night if water was wet,” he says, spearing a long piece of pineapple on his fork. “Like, obviously it’s wet? It’s water.”
“It isn’t, though,” you argue. “Water is just water. Wet is a state—”
Taehyung, cheeks bulging around the fruit like a hamster, frowns. “Huh? No. California is a state.”
Yoongi faceplants onto the table.
“No, Tae.” You shake your head. “Like, a state of being. Water makes other things wet, but it’s not wet itself.”
His frown deepens. Looks to Yoongi for help, clarification, but he’s still face-down, so he looks to Hoseok instead. He, very steadfastly, says, “She’s weirdly smart, man. I dunno. I’m not arguing with her.”
“Why? Because you’re also—” Another elbow to the ribs. He coughs, makes a very valiant attempt to look cool, calm, and collected. “You’re also very smart, Hoseok,” he amends. “I am very interested in hearing what you have to say.”
“In business, though. I’m not really smart in science stuff.”
“Interesting,” Taehyung muses. “Would you say you’re smart in love?”
Hoseok is good-natured enough to look genuinely confused. “Huh?”
Yoongi finally picks his head up. Sends Taehyung some kind of look that must mean something to only the two of them, because Taehyung just sighs, put-upon, and shoves a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth. He doesn’t talk to Hoseok for the rest of the day.
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Two weeks pass in a blur.
The schedule remains the same. Yoga, shared meals, weird quasi-therapy sessions which you have come to realize are just minor cult recruiting, bonfires on the beach. You and Hoseok stay up late talking and barely make it on time to whatever activity you have first thing in the morning. Jimin corners you at least once a week to talk about your “fucked up and frankly demonic” birth chart because he refuses to believe it’s real. Jungkook offers to teach the four of you how to surf but abandons that five minutes into the first session after Yoongi refuses to touch sand and Hoseok nearly passes out from seeing Jungkook shirtless.
…Which Taehyung catches, of course, because he just sidles up alongside you. Says, “Ooh, interesting,” again, in a really smug way, before intercepting Jungkook and leading him far, far away from the beach. You think he winks at you over his shoulder.
Bastard.
But it works, much to your surprise. Of course the two of you have talked it to death, but part of Hoseok’s bid to be better also seems to include being more tactile. Which… is nice, you’ll admit. Hoseok’s fingers are long and slender and perfectly manicured, his hands soft, so it feels nice when they play with your hair or scratch gently at your back or hold your hand, but it also fills you with an anxious kind of dread.
Uncertainty, maybe.
You know how these things work. Forced proximity, only one bed. You’re two-thirds of a psychologist, after all, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok is just caught up in the moment, at the relief of overcoming an obstacle and making it to the other side. (God knows the bender he’d gone on after graduating business school attests to that.)
Curiously, none of that stops you from leaning into it.
It doesn’t feel weird. It doesn’t feel awkward or strange or anything besides natural. Hoseok’s bare face is the last thing you see before you fall asleep and the first thing you know you’ll see when you wake up, and just having that certainty, that security, makes the early mornings bearable. It makes them something worth looking forward to. It makes all the tension in your body unwind. Makes you pliable, has you laughing freely and leaning into Hoseok’s side during all those meals Taehyung spends talking. Except he’s not talking so much anymore—now, he’s studying. Smiling. Sending little glances only you and Yoongi catch.
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Everything comes to a head at another of Seokjin’s weird dinners.
“A question for your discussion,” he begins, and you swear you hear Yoongi groan under his breath. When you look over at him, he’s nonchalantly chewing his food, no indication at all that he made a sound for the first time in two and a half weeks, so you convince yourself you’re hallucinating. “If no one ever sneezed again, how long do you think it’d take you to notice?”
Yoongi must feel you looking this time, because he offers up a dead stare in return. While Taehyung and Hoseok debate their answers—
(“Well, I work in an office, so probably not long.”
“Ah. I work from home, but I think it’d be pretty obvious? Especially during allergy season.”
“Yeah, for sure. It’s one of those things you’d definitely notice. It’s like—you know when you’re cooking and finally turn off the vent hood and the quiet is a little disorienting? It’d be like that, I think. Like, you definitely—”
“You notice something’s absence more than you notice its presence.”
“Yeah! Yes, exactly.”)
—that dead stare of Yoongi’s morphs into something more mischievous, slow like molasses. He catches your eye, winks, and fakes a yawn.
Taehyung startles, like he forgot Yoongi had been sitting next to him the entire time. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse him,” he says, cheeks dusting pink. “Someone told him once he’d been a rock in a past life and it catches up with him every now and then.”
Seokjin lets out a high-pitched giggle, looking absolutely delighted at this. “A rock, huh? Fascinating. Please tell me all about it.”
“Well, I think a lot of people would assume igneous, but that’s always seemed a little shallow to me, you know? I think he’s more metamorphic—”
As Taehyung rambles on, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “What about you two? What do you think you were like in a past life?”
“He had to have been a monk or something,” you declare, poking the crater of one of Hoseok’s dimples. “He’s been hoarding good karma for centuries and cashed it all in for this lifetime.”
“Aish,” Hoseok replies, cheeks matching Taehyung’s as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I don’t know about all that. It’s just luck, isn’t it?”
You look at Hoseok. Really look at him—at the way his lips curl around his teeth as he tries not to laugh at the way Taehyung’s still going on about rocks; at the way he pouts and gags a little whenever he takes a sip of champagne; at the way the stars in his eyes turn to glitter when Seokjin gives him an opening to talk about his dog. You look at Hoseok and you think yeah, it could be luck, but it feels more monumental.
It feels predestined.
And you’re not sure what that means. Of course friendships can feel predestined; you’re not one to discount the importance of platonic relationships. You’re not sure what it means in the context of yours and Hoseok’s friendship. You’re not sure if your stomach hurt back when Hoseok got a girlfriend back in high school because it was predestined to be platonic.
You frown as you swirl the wine around your glass.
Truth be told, you’re not sure about much of anything right now.
“Hey,” Hoseok says, patting your thigh to get your attention. You’re in a dress. A nice one: silk, a slit up the side, drapes perfectly over the lines of your body and clings where it should. Does absolutely nothing to spare you from the heat of Hoseok’s skin through the fabric. “You okay?”
You’re fucked, is what you are.
“Yeah,” you reply, offering what you can only hope is a convincing smile. “Think I drank this a little too fast.”
“Do you want to go back to the house? We don’t have to stay. Taehyung’s still talking about the difference between limestone and sandstone, so I don’t think we’ll miss anything.”
You nod, dropping your voice to a hushed whisper. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. They look like they’re about ten seconds away from mixing up geography and geology and being really offended when I don’t know anything about rocks.”
The two of you stand, and Hoseok’s hand immediately moves to the small of your back. Warm, warm, warm, and you can’t convince yourself it’s the wine that’s making you lightheaded.
“Oh-ho-ho,” Taehyung chimes, looking pleased as punch at the sight of Hoseok’s hand at your back. Throws an elbow into Yoongi’s ribs. He doesn’t even flinch. “And where are the two of you going?”
“Uh, home?” Hoseok answers at the same time you say, “Fuck off, Taehyung,” because your face feels like it’s on fire and you’ve had enough of his ribbing.
Except, as it turns out, some amalgamation of home and fuck off sounds a whole lot like home, to fuck, and Taehyung might’ve been serious about the matchmaking thing, but even this kind of misunderstood forwardness has him choking on his sip of wine. Yoongi slaps at his back in the most patronizing way you’ve ever seen someone try to save another person from choking.
“Is he okay?” Hoseok asks, completely oblivious.
You shrug. “No. In so many ways.”
Through his choking, Taehyung manages a glare. “Takes one to know one,” he childishly responds, and you roll your eyes at the exact moment Seokjin grins and does a little wiggle, starts up a very enthusiastic fight, fight, fight! chant.
The thing is—Taehyung is drunk. You know he’s drunk, so him overriding Seokjin’s chant with one of his own—kiss, kiss, kiss!—certainly excuses and explains his behavior, it does absolutely nothingto extinguish the wildfire that’s sparked in your belly.
It’s a bad idea.
You and Hoseok have kissed before, when you were twelve and he was thirteen and he landed on you during a game of Spin the Bottle. Everyone around you had erupted into excited jeering, but the two of you shared a mortified look before he shuffled over on his hands and knees looking less like he was about to have his first kiss and more like he was being dragged to his death.
Looking back, that had been offensive, but he’d still puckered his lips and kissed the pout off your face all the same.
So it’s a bad idea, and you should tell Taehyung that the two of you have already kissed and to knock it off, because the second time you kiss shouldn’t only be to shut him up, but you’re both a little drunk in general and a lot drunk on the thought of redemption. If you pursed your lips the way he had fifteen years ago, leaned in close enough for him to smell your perfume, would he wear another mortified look? Or would he—
Fuck it, you think.
Because, once he realizes you’re serious, that you’re actually considering kissing him, the look he wears is not mortified. He looks a little awestruck—slightly dumb, if you’re being honest; definitely dazed—and it takes all that wildfire raging in your gut and unleashes it. Inspires just enough confidence to step closer, lean in; close enough to feel the warmth emanating from Hoseok’s skin, but still far enough for him to pull away if he wanted to.
Hoseok doesn’t want to.
And his hands are already at the small of your back, so it’s so easy to pull you closer. So easy to move them to your hips, grip a little tighter just in case you start to drift away. So easy to press his lips to yours and kiss the absolute life out of you.
You've kissed a lot of people over the span of fifteen years. None of them had lips as soft as Hoseok’s.
He must’ve done a lot of kissing, too, because the way he moves his mouth is sinful. Precise and confident, just a tease of his tongue. You can feel his smile against your lips and it nearly makes your knees buckle. Reminds you, more than the taste and smell of him, that it’s Hoseok you’re kissing, and the thought alone has you gripping at his dress shirt.
Any other time he’d complain about the wrinkles.
Not this one, though.
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“Are you nervous?”
The question finds you halfway out of your dress. “Not really,” you answer. “I think my strap is stuck.”
A nervous laugh is punched out of him, but he moves to help you nonetheless. Gently touches your arm and spins you around, fingers ghosting along your skin as he untangles the strap and pushes it off your shoulder. The fabric pools on the floor, emerald and glittering, as you step out of it, and you laugh. It’s been three days since you and Hoseok kissed. The two of you have done a lot of kissing since then, and he’s still so hesitant; eyes still widen every time you lean in close, like he can’t believe it.
Hoseok is still so shy.
“Why would I be nervous?” you ask, because keeping him talking is the best way to keep him out of his head. “It’s you.”
He whimpers, like that’s the worst possible reasoning you could’ve given him. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m nervous.”
“It’s okay if you are,” you say, turning around to fully face him, and Hoseok looks struck. Torn between the way his nerves are eating him alive and the sight of you in just a pair of lacy panties. “We can do whatever you want, Seok.”
“I—no.” He swallows hard. “No, no, I think—we should definitely… you know.” You quirk an eyebrow. “My dick is fighting for its life right now.”
You dare a glimpse downward. Hoseok’s dick doesn’t look like it’s fighting for its life, outlined and half-hard in his expensive trousers, but what do you know? “Taehyung asked me about your dick once.”
“What.”
“Well, not exactly. He’d asked me if I ever thought about having sex with you—”
Hoseok whimpers again. “Please do not tell me what your answer was.”
“—and I told him you were like a Ken doll.” At his questioning look, you clarify, “You know. Dickless. Smooth from the waist down.”
“Wow. Why would you tell me that? Not gonna lie, it’s a little emasc—”
“I might need to see it. For science.”
Hoseok startles. “M-my dick?”
“Yeah. For science,” you repeat. “Taehyung is gonna be thrilled. He called your dicklessness, and I quote, an L for the gay community.”
Your best friend seems to ponder this. His hands hover uselessly in the air, and it’s ten seconds, twenty—you think he might call the whole thing off, but then he shrugs and undoes his belt, the metal clanky in his haste. “For the gays,” he explains as he pushes his pants down his thighs.
“Of course,” you agree, nodding seriously. “They deserve it.”
“What else did Taehyung say?”
“Nothing much. Just that we need to get our shit together because we’re wasting some really good windows to fuck against.”
Hoseok doesn’t fuck you against the windows the first time.
The first time is slow and unhurried. Because it’s Hoseok, he lights a candle and the two of you take your time touching, learning, shaking off the dregs of apprehension. He flushes crimson and nearly does a runner anytime something goes less than perfectly, and it’s so endearing you have to stop yourself from sinking through the mattress under the weight of all your affection.
The second time is all raw, desperate need. After a day of sly smiles reserved only for you, Hoseok meets you in the bathroom at the end of another night. There’s a spot of toothpaste on your sleep shirt that he disregards at the sight of your bare legs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and then there’s only enough time for anticipation to start simmering beneath your skin before he’s moving.
(Technically, the third time is only a few hours later. Just like it has everyday since you arrived, your alarm goes off at six sharp, time for yoga, but instead of ushering you out of bed, Hoseok hits the snooze button and pulls you closer. Fits himself to your back and slides your panties to the side, speaks an is this okay? in his impossibly deep morning voice, and then you’re nodding your head and he’s pushing inside.)
Now, though—
Nerves have been shaken off. Another weird dinner has been sat through to which you’d worn a two-piece outfit, the top cropped just enough to show off a strip of skin—modest enough for the motley crew you share your evenings with, but apparently scandalous enough to drive Hoseok insane. He’s all barely-contained energy beside you, hand gripping your thigh, not paying a lick of attention to the conversation.
You lean over, speak the question just below his ear. “You okay?” Goosebumps erupt all over his skin.
“We need to leave right now.”
“Really? Why? You aren’t having a good time?”
Hoseok makes you pay for your smart mouth. Has you pressed against the expanse of windows in your bedroom, stripped down to just your underwear and the top he insisted you keep on, only your shoulders pressed against the glass. Presses wet, open-mouth kisses along your calves, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and then he’s canting your hips forward to nip at you over your underwear. More silk and lace—thin enough to feel the warmth of his breath, then nothing but warmth when he licks a stripe up your folds, spit seeping through the fabric.
“Fuck.”
He does it once, twice more before he leans back, refuses to meet your gaze. Your brows furrow because your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging as you try to get him to look up at you, wanting to see the evidence of your arousal on his face, but then he’s smirking out of the side of his mouth, hands reaching for your underwear.
You register the cold air of the room on your skin before the sound of fabric ripping.
Then you’re saying, “What the fuck, Hobi, did you just—” and he’s laughing as he nods, not a care in the world except getting his mouth back on you. He licks and sucks until you’re nearly trembling with the need to come, begging him to let you, and you think if you were anyone else he’d drag it out longer. Make you beg a little more. But regardless of whatever he’s told himself over the years in order to cope, Hoseok can’t deny you anything, so he presses two fingers inside, right on the spot that whites out your vision.
He touches himself to the sight of your orgasm.
Rolls the condom on. Runs his cock through your folds, tells you to slick him up. As he presses inside again, crowding close, breath fogging the glass behind you, he tells you to thank Taehyung for the idea.
You’re gonna have to thank him for a whole lot more than that.
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In hindsight, you should’ve known Namjoon was nothing more than a dirty little schemer.
There’s three days left of your stay, and the question had been nagging at you ever since you cut through the reception area to get to the meditation class you were running late for. Jimin, of course, gave you shit for it: wordlessly, because he was busy checking in a man with far too much luggage. A man who was checking in alone, and that was not a thing, so far as you were aware, so your curiosity was to be expected.
“Can I just ask,” you say, once again in Jimin’s strange little room behind the beaded curtain. “Why a couple’s retreat?”
“Huh?”
“Isn’t it less effective for Seokjin’s weird cult? Like, statistically speaking, you’ve got to be more likely to recruit single people, right?”
“Huh?”
You blink. “What part is confusing you? And don’t say the cult, because I had that pegged on, like, day three.”
“No,” Jimin agrees quickly, “Seokjin is definitely officiating a cult. I just—why do you think this is a couple’s retreat?”
“Uh, because Namjoon said it was? That’s why me and Hoseok are faking being a couple—”
“Were. Were faking.”
“—and it just sort of made sense, considering the people who showed up after us were literally a couple.”
Jimin sighs, schools his expression to the one he always uses when he has to be condescending and speak to you as if you’re a woefully stupid child. “I don’t know who Namjoon is, but I’m assuming he lied in order to get you two to do… exactly what you’ve done.”
“What.”
“This isn’t a couple’s retreat, buttercup, just a regular ol’ wellness one.”
“That Seokjin also uses as his cult recruitment headquarters.”
“Yep.”
“I feel betrayed.”
“Pisces usually do.”
“Excuse me—”
“You’re excused,” he dismisses, shooing you out of his closet.
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Despite his innocent nature, Hoseok isn’t nearly as shocked as you to learn Namjoon deceived him.
That’s life, I guess, was all he’d said, the picture of comfort and nonchalance as he lounged in bed, wrapped in a fluffy robe, arm behind his head like a king. You had been shocked—no longer at the betrayal, but at Hoseok’s quick acceptance of it. Hoseok from a month ago would’ve been flustered and on the brink of a meltdown. Hoseok today just shrugs it off.
“I’m just saying.” He dangles a stem of grapes over his mouth like an asshole. “Jimin called it a wellness retreat, right? I didn’t get roped into Seokjin’s cult and we’re… well, whatever we are, so a win is a win. Seems like wellness to me.”
“Whatever we are,” you mimic, pitching Hoseok’s voice up a dozen octaves. “Wow, how romantic.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes, pats the spot next to him on the bed. “If you’d like to come over here, we can have the highly-anticipated ‘what are we’ discussion that no one in the history of human relationships has ever once dreaded having.”
You wave him off. “No need. It’s you, and I trust you, so I don’t think we’re going to go back home and you’re going to write this off as a weird forced proximity thing and ghost me.” You finish the application of your facemask, laughing to yourself at Hoseok’s offended scoff. “Besides, constantly having to defend you from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter is the pinnacle of devotion and love. That’s the kinda shit that forms a trauma bond.”
“For my peace of mind, then.”
“Fine. Hoseok, I love you dearly as my best friend and I’m probably halfway in love with you as a romantic partner, and even though this vacation has been incredible and rewarding and you are very good at sex, I am also very much looking forward to having my own space again because you are almost impossible to live with.” You roll your lips at the sour expression marring his face. “That said: you still owe me dinner at the Brazilian spot near your office, so I would like it very much if you took me there as a date. You can tell Namjoon I’m your girlfriend if you wish.”
“And are you?”
“Ugh. Of course I am, Hobi. What do you take me for? You think I’m the kind of woman who agrees to spend a month in the rainforest and almost get roped into some sketchy cult with anyone who asks?”
“Well, I don’t know! Maybe!”
“You’re impossible. Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”
At this, Hoseok’s face lights up so bright it puts the sun to shame. Smiles so big you can hardly believe it. “I would love nothing more.”
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During your last group meal, Seokjin invites the new guy to join you.
Taehyung is enthralled immediately, gesturing for him to take the empty seat to his left. “Hello, nice to meet you! I’m Kim Taehyung and this is Min Yoongi. Are you here for the wellness retreat part or the cult part?”
Seokjin chokes on a slice of mango.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kim Taehyung. I’m Park Bogum,” the man responds. “I’m here for the cult part.”
Seokjin promptly stops choking.
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Saying goodbye to this place, these people, is bittersweet.
The last four weeks have undoubtedly been the weirdest of your life, but they’ve more than made up for it with what you’ve been given in return: a blossoming relationship with Hoseok, Taehyung and Yoongi’s friendship. Even Jimin and Jungkook come to see you off, and Jimin surprises you by wrapping you in a tight hug, assuring you that you’ll still be his second-favorite Pisces long after you’re gone.
“Wow, rude. Who’s the first?”
“Yoongi.”
“Yoongi? How is he your favorite? He doesn’t talk!”
Jimin smirks, smug and patronizing. “Exactly. Have a safe trip, buttercup.”
Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t say much at all. You suspect he showed up only to look hot and catapult Hoseok into his final sexuality crisis, and that suspicion is confirmed when he leans against the wall and pushes his hair away from his forehead. The sound that comes out of Hoseok is part whimper, part pain and suffering, and truly catastrophic for his ego.
“Get it together,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears. Hoseok is in a Jungkook-induced haze until you’re halfway to the airport, Taehyung chattering the entire way.
And then—
And then.
“Well, that was fucking weird, huh?” Yoongi asks.
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Hoseok is running late.
He’s gotten better at equalizing his work-life balance since returning from your trip, but he still gets held up sometimes. A lot to catch up on, he’d said, and you can understand that. He’d spent his first week back doing nothing but haranguing Namjoon, so that surely ate up a lot of time.
Still, he’s never been quite this late.
The waitstaff are looking at you with concern. They used to look at you only to see if your water needed topping up, so this is an unfortunate development, especially for someone who looks as you currently do. Any person in this overpriced Brazilian steakhouse would be honored to even sit at the same table as you, let alone be able to call you their date, so Hoseok really has a lot of nerve.
You’re halfway to telling him as much over a very angry text message when he appears in front of you, face flushed, chest heaving, hairline dotted with sweat. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Got a little caught up.”
“No shit,” you whisper-yell, “that waiter over there looked like he was about ready to call the cops on me. I probably can’t even afford the water in this place.”
Hoseok grimaces. “In my defense, I have a very good reason.”
“Oh yeah?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what is that?”
Wordlessly, Hoseok hands over a garishly orange shopping bag emblazoned with a very familiar logo and brand name. Suddenly, it feels impossible to breathe. “You didn’t. Hobi, tell me you didn’t—”
“You know how much bullshit you have to go through for one of those things? God, I had to put in a request. Not to mention it was like fourteenseparate credit checks…”
You tune him out. Instead, you peek inside the bag with what you can only describe as pure dread. Not at the implication, because that has you thrumming with joy and affection, but at the cost of—
“You got me a Birkin.”
Hoseok looks at you like you’ve sprouted a second head. “Um. That’s what you said you wanted, right?”
“You said you weren’t spending that much money on anyone who isn’t your future spouse.”
The look doesn’t budge. “Yeah? I’m clearly not following.”
“When did you put in the request?” If your voice is audibly waterlogged, Hoseok doesn’t mention it, but you can feel the tears pooling at your lash line nonetheless.
The confusion finally clears and gives way to another brilliant smile. A little bashful, too, because he hides behind the menu and refuses to look at you. Says something you don’t catch, can’t hear over the dim chatter of this restaurant, and he groans in pleased faux-annoyance when you tell him to repeat himself.
“I said… I put it in the night you kissed me.”
It feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. “You’ve known that long?”
And Hoseok—Hoseok ducks behind the menu again, but this time you can hear him loud and clear: “I’ve known a lot longer than that.”
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author's note pt. 2: if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, any reblogs are greatly appreciated and my inbox is always open for feedback. ♡
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cerisekoo · 1 month
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pairing: hoseok x fem!reader
a/n: hi everyone! i decided to write something for hobi day! I know I'm a little late but I had fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it! :)
warnings: cnc, forest fucking, chasing, spitting, hair pulling, humiliation, degrading, fingering, p&v sex, slight overstimulation.
“I had fun tonight, thank you for everything babe,” your boyfriend, Hoseok, speaks as he starts his car. He leans over the car’s console to give you a kiss on the cheek. 
Today was Hoseok's birthday and you decided to take him out on a date while the both of you had time. He isn’t a complicated person so you took him to his favorite restaurant and ate, maybe had a few drinks. Nothing too crazy.
“Of course, it wasn’t much, but I still wanted to do something for you. You always go all out for me.” 
It’s true. He spoils the hell out of you, and you only want to do the same for him.
“Trust me, spending time with you is good enough for me,” he smiles, reaching for your hand to hold it. No matter how long you’ve been with him, he never fails to make you flustered.
It’s ten minutes into the car ride when you notice him taking a few unusual turns. The plan was to eat and go back to his place. You can’t help but wonder where the hell he was taking you.
He takes one final turn onto an empty one way road, the sides of it an endless field of trees.
He brought you to the woods?
You swallow, confused with a pit of nervousness forming in your stomach. What the hell is he doing right now?
“Hobi, I thought we were go-”
“You have five minutes to run and hide before I find you. Understood?” your boyfriend cuts you off, making you shiver at his words.
Not wanting to pry on his demand, you open the door, not without one last glance at Hoseok. 
You already know where this is going, and it's quite simple. Your boyfriend is experimental when it comes to your sex life. You can’t help but get a twinge of excitement.
Slamming the door shut, you waste no time in sprinting into the woods. It's dark and freezing, only the moon lighting up the forest.
Your heart beats out of your chest, running through the muddy grass and branches, no doubt your shoes are surely ruined. You take different turns and paths past trees and bushes, hoping to make finding you more difficult. The adrenaline keeps you going.
You stop, catching your breath while trying to keep an eye out for him. It's surely been well over five minutes, maybe you ran too far?
As if it was on cue, the sound of footsteps crushing leaves in the distance behind you brings you back to reality. Your heart instantly drops.
And before you know it, you’re running again, the fear fueling your stamina.
You attempt to be as quiet as possible, but the branches you’re stepping over are a dead giveaway at where you’re running towards.
It feels like it's been an hour of trying to find a perfect hiding spot, when you see a huge oak tree, branches big enough to cover you. Finally.
You can’t register what's happening when a hand covers your mouth and the other around your waist, trapping your arms from behind, your eyes widening when you take in the familiar hand.
How the fuck did he find you so fast?
“You’re a good hider, but not that good, baby,” he grits into your ear along with a snarky laugh. His hold on you is borderline painful.
“Hmm, let’s see what we’ve got hiding under here.” He doesn’t give you a chance to move, instead gripping your hair with the utmost force to push you up against the tree, the bark digging into your skin.
He wastes no time in lifting up your white floral dress, smacking your ass along the way to rip off your underwear.
“Well, would you look at that,” he chuckles at the sight. “You’re fucking dripping, baby,” he whispers as he runs his long fingers between your soaked folds. Your hole clenches at the slight stimulation, whining for more.
“Looks like you enjoyed the chase, huh? Of course a whore like you would.”
You’re embarrassed that he’s right.
He presses his middle finger in your hole, unable to contain your moans when the grip on your hair gets tighter.
He laughs at your attempt to grind on his hand, inserting his ring finger inside you to give you what you want.
“Wish it was my cock instead hm, baby? Grinding on my hand like a bitch in heat for fucks sake.”
Getting no answer, he immediately pulls his fingers out your hole and all you can muster out is a whine in protest.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he spits out into your ear, “you asked for this,” as he takes it upon himself to rip your dress off, completely ruining the dainty material. You’re left bare in the freezing woods– quite opposite to his dressed figure. You cry out when he leans in to bite your neck, marking you with a fresh, red hickey.
“Hobi please not her-”
“Don’t cry like a bitch now and take what I give you,” grabbing your jaw, forcibly opening your mouth when a glob of saliva escapes his lips to land on your pink tongue.
“Uh uh, swallow” he commands when he sees you trying to reject his spit, shutting your mouth together, leaving you no choice but to swallow it.
He doesn’t stop at that, a chill of fear and excitement as you hear his belt buckle jingle and his fly being unzipped.
Looking over your shoulder, you get a slight of him spitting into his hand, using it as lube on his hard cock. 
He pushes your face back against the tree, grabbing both of your arms to put behind your back, restricting your movements as much as possible.
After what feels like years of torture, you feel his tip poke and prod against your hole. Within seconds, he slams inside of your poor swollen cunt, a gasp escaping your lips.
The once quiet forest is now filled with sounds of skin slapping and quiet grunts from the both of you. Your eyes roll back at his harsh thrusts, his cock constantly prodding at your sweet spot. You won’t last long.
“Mh- fucking gripping me, relax. Gonna fill up this cunt.”
Your walls clench even harder around him, the thought of him cumming inside you while being this vulnerable bringing you closer to your climax.
He delivers another smack to your ass, addicted to the way it moves under his force. 
 A few more pounds into your cunt and you’re cumming, a ring of cum gathered at the base of his cock. It leaves you shaking.
“Fucking made a mess of my cock, hm?” your boyfriend remarks. Despite the cold weather, you’re sweating. You try to get him to slow down his bruising thrust by pushing him away, while this only makes him smack your hands away and grip your hips harder.
His moans increasingly become louder than before, signaling he’s close. 
You begin to wince painfully from the overstimulation, not that he cares though.
“Shit” he breathes out, a warm sensation fills your cunt. His cum coating every bit of your walls, not stopping until he unloads every last drop inside of you.
He swiftly pulls out, letting you go as you stand there, body spent and legs shaking from the intense sex. 
He takes off his jacket to cover your body, and lands a kiss on your cheek.
“You’re a present in itself.”
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btsugarush · 4 months
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In These Streets | jhs [m.list]
❝i don’t care what anyone says, i want you.❞
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summary: in this modern day romeo and juliet, you fall in love with jung hoseok; a carefree, street tough who introduces you to life in his hood.
pairings: jung hoseok x f!reader.
warnings: smut, fluff, drugs, strong language, violence, angst, 18+, minors dni.
author’s note: so, this is another wip that i’ve been thinking of for a while. i’ve wanted to write for hoseok since i first wrote gangsta so here it is.
©btsugarush. please do not repost.
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sailoryooons · 2 months
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Spider Web | JHS | (m)
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☾ Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x human!reader (afab)
☾ Summary: Playing games with vampires is a bad idea. Playing with Spiders is worse. 
☾ Word Count: 1,976
☾ Genre: Supernatural, Predator/Prey, Established Relationship, Smut
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Warnings:  Predator/prey dynamics, intense feelings of fear, reader is navigating a maze while unable to see at all, Hoseok taunting reader, minor injuries, explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, biting, dom/sub dynamics, subspace, feeling fear during sex, reader being both afraid and aroused and just going with it, implied relationship of some manner. 
☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024
☾ A/N: This might not be for everyone, but this is for me. This is not only self-indulgent but it was so fun to write. The third roll for the 100 Drabble Challenge was number 46 - Predator/Prey and I had the opportunity to do something that surprised me - write a piece of a universe that I’ve wanted to write since I was in middle school. You heard that right - I have an entire outline/idea of a dystopian vampire novel where vampires rule and humans live under them with a complex political structure and rebel human groups and class war etc. that I have wanted to write since middle school and when I rolled this tonight… I was like what if I just use that world. In that world there are vampire guards call The Web that are broken up into three categories: Spiders, Widows and Venoms and they all have different purposes. In this case, Hobi is a Spider :) I’ve considered turning it into a fic so… let me know if you’re interested odigjdoigjdofgij 
A/N 2: This is unedited and I wrote it in roughly an hour pls excuse the errors etc. I will look back over it in the morning and fix them okay soifjsoigj
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ 
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“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout,” a voice echoes. Your heart slams in your chest as you press your fingers against the sides of the wall, trying to feel your way through the maze. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out.” 
You should be used to the dark. Your life has revolved around the dark from the moment you took your first breath. Born in the dead of night during the hour of the predator. As a kid, you didn’t quite understand the hour of the predator. All you knew was that it meant to stay inside and not leave the building no matter what.
When you were older, you learned that walls and locks do not keep out predators. The notion that they keep their hunt to a single hour of the night is ridiculous. Now you know that vampires only let people think that they’re safe outside of that single hour of every night.
Like everything in the city, it is an illusion.
Inhaling shakily, you try to calm your breathing. The thud of your pulse in your neck and the rattling of your heart in your ribcage is a dead giveaway to this predator. Fear puts you on a razor's edge. A tingling sensation skitters along your skin like static as you keep one hand against the wall and the other in front of you, each step careful.
You can’t see in the darkness of the maze. He can. 
The disadvantage isn’t far. He’s better than you at most things: sight, smell, speed, strength - sadism, to be sure. But still, you’ve managed to evade him for far longer than he would like, and despite his taunting, you know it’s irritating him.
You smile. For vampires, most things are prey. For Spiders, all things are. 
“Perhaps we should change the lyrics of the song,” Hoseok calls. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. He sounds only a few rows over, making you quicken your steps. You’re barefoot and the ground is cold, making you shiver as you go. “The Spider doesn’t get washed out, but the little human does.”
The hand reaching in front of you hits the wall. You inhale and turn left, letting your right hand skim the corner and press against the new wall. You’ve hit a dead end twice and lost your sense of direction, but Hoseok hasn’t caught up yet. 
The thought makes you grin. You’re better at these games than you used to be, and you’re able to make faster decisions now. You also have managed to learn a thing or two about vampires. Somewhere, your socks and shoes are sitting in other corners. You’ve also dropped a jacket, making the entire maze smell like you. 
“Ah, the mouse has left a shoe for me.” 
Your heart beats faster. You only dropped that shoe moments ago, which means Hoseok is close. Too close. You’re not even sure what will happen if he wins - it’s always different. 
“I hear your heart, Mouse.”
The momentary panic makes you walk into a wall, banging loudly. Hoseok laugh is carried down a maze hall, chilling your spine. You throat caution to the wind, breaking into a run though you cannot see anything around you. 
In the dark, colors and shapes taunt you, your imagination filling in the gaps for the things you cannot see. Running wild totally unable to see is a terrible idea, you could run into-
You slam into a wall and let out a pained sound. Pain shoots up your wrist and you whimper, cradling it to your hand. A hiss echoes behind you and you run again, bad hand tucked to your chest as Hoseok closes in. 
“Yes!” he growls, glee in his dark voice. “Run, Mouse! I love it when you run!” 
You hardly recognize his voice through the growl, bloodlust taking over. Your instincts perceive a wall and you jerk to the left, skidding as you go. A speck of light beckons you and you gasp, realizing you can see the way out of the maze. You never make it that far. 
Without hesitation, you take off at a full sprint, the soles of your feet slapping against concrete, your heart pumping in your chest. Just a little further, almost there.
Hoseok snarls behind you and you scream, a primal fear exploding inside of you as your instincts sense the danger behind you, all other thoughts and feelings blotted out by the sheer force of terror. 
A force crashes into you, taking you down. You squeeze your eyes shut, jarred and waiting for the harsh impact of the concrete. It doesn’t come, instead softened by the blow of falling into Hoseok as he twists, taking the brunt of the impact. 
You’re dizzy, world spinning as the adrenaline tingles in your veins, your entire body feeling like it’s on pins and needles. In the dim light of the concrete building, you make out the shape of Hoseok under you. It doesn’t last long, the vampire rolling and pinning you with an ironclad grip to the floor.
A cry slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. It riles him up, Hoseok pressing in on you. He smells like rosewood and lavender, making your eyes flutter as Hoseok pulls your head backward against the old concrete, your skull digging in painfully as he noses your pulse. 
“You lose, Mouse.”
Hoseok’s voice rasps against your throat. Fear-laced pleasure blooms in your stomach. Where his mouth ghosts against your sweaty skin feels good, his words buzzing through you as his lips skim your neck toward your jaw.
You don’t dare move - can’t move. This is the part that you don’t understand, but don’t have to. Your body thrums with the innate terror of death. Adrenaline pumps through your system, parts of your brain screaming and alerting your organs that you’re in danger.
But there’s another part of your brain that goes fuzzy when you feel Hoseok’s fangs drag against your jaw. You can’t make out his features in the barely-there light of the building, but you catch the silver flash of predator's eyes when he glances up at you.
Once upon a time that gaze made you nearly soil yourself in horror. Now the wetness between your legs is entirely different, caused by the hell your nervous system goes through as it straddles fear and desire. 
“I smell you,” Hoseok breathes. His tongue snakes out to taste your salty skin and you can’t help the sound that comes out of your throat. It is equal parts a whimper as it is a moan. His lips are pressed against your cheekbone as one of his hands skims down your body. “You almost made it out this time.”
The ability to verbalize anything is lost on you. You can only squirm underneath his touch, sparking to life like cut livewires. A violent shiver wracks through your body as Hoseok presses his hands between your legs, causing a pulse of want to unfurl. 
You want more. You want none of it. You want both. 
“Next time try dropping your panties,” he whispers, pressing hard, painful kisses toward your ear. He bites your earlobe sharply at the same time he presses your clothed cunt, plain and pleasure dancing together. “That would certainly do it.”
“Never thought of that.”
Hoseok’s hand ventures up and grabs the waistband of your pants, pulling on them with a loud rip. It’s almost drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. 
Your limbs start to shake in excitement as Hoseok catches your mouth with his. The kiss is sudden and demanding, completely inescapable. You kiss him back, drowning in the flurry of sensations hammering down on you, scrambling your thoughts, destroying your feelings. 
It’s always like this. He’s always able to do this. Hoseok has made an art of building you up and cutting you open, scattering every thought to the wind as he hunts you and beds you. Here with him you might not be safe, but at least you don’t think about being out there and being unsafe. 
This spider web you weave with Hoseok is high stakes, high reward. At least here if he kills you, you’ll be smiling. Out there when you die, no one will care.
Hoseok’s fingers hook your underwear to the side and pull. Cold air hits your hot, weeping hunt and you wiggle under him, trapped under his oppressive weight. He half growls, half purs as his fingers swipe up your sticky folds, avoiding your clit where all the pressure feels trapped.
You kick your feet under him, pressing up. You want more. Need more. The more he gives you, the more you feel the high of whatever this is between you. Hoseok knows this and gives in, playing nice as his fingers dip into your clenching hole to collect wetness before drifting back up, circling your clit.
A sound that is barely human escapes you. Hoseok has you pinned firmly underneath him as he starts to play. He carefully drags his fingers up and down, tracing your tightening entrance before drifting back up to apply pressure on your bundle of nerves.
“Little mouse is desperate tonight,” Hoseok pants. When he speaks, you can feel the sharp drag of his fangs on your cheek. “I bet you wanted to be caught.”
You shake your head no and he laughs, sinking a finger into your waiting heat. A strangled moan escapes you. Everything is on fire and you feel your cunt clench around his fingers. The concrete beneath you is too hot, Hoseok is too firm, his fangs on your skin are too sharp, you’re half afraid and half aroused - it all turns you into a mess, your mind tiptoeing on the edge of a blade between two nameless abysses. 
Hoseok thrusts his fingers up into you at an angle, pushing against that spot that makes you teeter dangerously. Your nails dig into your palms, leaving bloody crescents as Hoseok fucks you expertly with his fingers, drawing you to the edge of madness as he does it. 
Just as you think you’re about to tip one way or the other and plunge into darkness, Hoseok presses his mouth against yours, words slurred as he mumbles, “Ask.”
“Please.” Your words are slurred against his mouth, your breath hot and sticky. “Please let me. I need it. I - Hoseok - please.” 
His pace quickens. His thumb presses on your clit, wiggling. You feel it coming like a spool spinning thread, going and going and going until the spindle snaps and the thread comes unwound, spilling into his hand with a scream. 
Your ears ring. Your mind blanks. Your body goes so taught that it's only option is to go limp. You are vaguely aware that you’re gasping for air - you feel it more than you see it. You melt into the ground, unaware of anything but the static in your veins and the rush of air through your lungs.
In out. In out. In out. In out. 
You drift in the abyss. You’re unsure which one you fell into. Here, you are weightless and calm. 
In out. In out. In out. 
Nothing can hurt you here. There is no such thing as pain. There is only absolutely nothing but your breath and the buzzing on your skin.
In out. In out. In out. 
Eventually it wears off. Hoseok is still a firm weight against you, an anchor pulling you back. Your thoughts are syrup-slow and dizzy when you lift your too-heavy head to look at him. You cannot make out his features, but you get the sense he’s smiling. 
“Did you think we were done?” he rasps, a laugh in his voice. “You’ve only just fallen into the spiderweb, Mouse.” 
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xjoonchildx · 11 months
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kanalia | jhs x reader | chapter five: the king is a fool
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banner by the amazing, incredible @kth1
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⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.
⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok
⚜️rating: mature, 18+
⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut
⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes.
⚜️word count: 10K
⚜️notes: the queen is hot and bothered, literally & figuratively. the king puts several Ls in the disappointed but not surprised category, everyone gets drunk at some point. lord min is a terrible archer, yeona remains round and winning. the queen could melt steel with her sexual frustration, lord jung is not faring much better but at least he knows what he's doing, slightly awkward marital smut. the queen fights with everyone.
i could never have finished this chapter without these amazing authors & minds @miscelunaaa and @vyduan and one person who would probably level us all with her first fic if she decided to write one, @hobi-gif. please let me re-iterate how much it means to me that any one of you reads my stories, and it would make me endlessly happy to talk to you about it. you can talk to me here 💕
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Hyeri is curious.
She examines the stains at the hem of your walking dress with narrowed eyes, pausing her thorough study of the red-brown splotches only to steal the occasional furtive glance your way.  
Her lips purse as she shakes dirt loose from the grooves of your walking boots. She watches the sediment fall to the floor with a raised brow, uncharacteristically quiet as she reaches for the broom to sweep the mess away.
But her bewilderment only grows as she draws closer.
The older woman’s posture stiffens as she regards you, lips pulling into a thin line as she takes in the state of your wind-swept hair and grimy fingernails. You must reek of the ill temper you’ve brought back from your ride, the smell of it as pungent as the sweat and horse on your clothes. She tests your temperament in much the same way as she tests your bathwater, query as feather-light as the fingertip she skims along the surface.
“Are you… well, this evening, Your Grace?”
“As well as I ever am,” you answer succinctly, accepting her hand and stepping carefully into the tub. Woven into the spaces between each of your clipped words is rebuke; a silent warning to proceed no further. Your handmaid, who is by no means a meek woman, has the good sense to heed it.
So Hyeri says nothing as she takes a comb to the tangles in your hair, working them apart with peach oil. She says nothing as she scrubs away the dirt embedded beneath your normally pristine fingernails. And she says nothing still when you wince at the ache in your thighs as she helps you from the bath.
When the heavy chamber door finally pulls behind her, shutting the stares and the questions safely out, you make your way to bed. You extinguish the lamp on your nightstand and welcome the shadows.
And then you succumb to the darkness that envelops you, inside and out.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Steamy heat has put an end to weeks of pleasant fall weather. 
You’ve sought refuge this afternoon beneath a tree at the edge of the castle’s sprawling open field. The oak, though grand, offers scant protection from the midday sun. A bead of sweat trickles down your neck and disappears into the linen at your décolletage. 
“Between you and me, I’ve always found hunting to be an appalling sport.”
Boram shakes her head at the scene in the distance. The King and his men claim to be training for an upcoming hunt, but by all appearances, there is little training taking place. Instead they look to be bandying about like mischievous little boys, scrambling for position in front of the straw targets with bows in hand. 
“I find it to be an exercise in vanity more than ability. Little more than male preening disguised as sport.” Boram dabs at her brow with a handkerchief and sighs. “What do you think?”
You don’t answer Boram’s question on account of your distraction. Try as you might to keep your eyes on the dashing elder Lord Kim or the charming young Lord Jeon or – heaven forbid, your husband – they wander to Lord Jung instead, over and over and over again. Your gaze pulled to his strong face as though drawn by a magnet.
He turns his head and his dark eyes find yours across the distance.
The butterflies you’ve felt in his presence before are not to blame for the unsettled feeling that comes over you now. The very sight of the man makes your stomach turn over, as though you can taste the vivid recollection of the last time you saw him. 
The memory of that wonderful ride – and of the horrible way it ended – are still bitter on your tongue. Like picking the most beautiful fruit in the orchard only to find it sour and decaying inside. 
“Your Grace?”
You blink.
“I say this to you as my friend and not my Queen,” Boram says, pausing to clear her throat. “You don’t seem yourself today. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
“Nothing at all,” you lie quickly, smoothing down the damp curls springing up around your ears. “I’m fine, truly. Though I suppose it is possible the heat is making me cross. I can barely think in such conditions.”
“Awful, isn’t it?” Boram laments, reaching over to give Yeona’s belly a tickle. The baby curls into herself like a starfish, giggling as she rolls around on the blanket. “Yoongi says it will take a rain to break it. But until then, we must all suffer.”
“And suffer we shall,” you echo under your breath, watching Lord Jung load his bow in the distance. He sets his lithe body in a precise stance then draws his arm back and releases his arrow. It flies in a tight arc and lands just below the bullseye on the target. The men erupt into raucous cheers. You resist the urge to scowl.
“As for the hunting,” you add, “I think men are just as guilty of the frivolity they so often accuse women of. Not that any one of them is likely to admit it.”
“No, I suppose not,” Boram laughs. “Men are not known to be skilled in the art of introspection.”
“They certainly are not.”
And why should they be? Men never have to stop and consider the consequences of their actions. They alone decide the rules of engagement. They are free to be as vain and as frivolous and as thoughtless as their hearts desire. Horrid, infuriating creatures.
Lord Min steps up to the target. His stance is uneven and his arrow is wild the very second he lets it loose. It flies yards from the target and lands off in the grass. The men jeer loudly.
“Poor Yoongi,” Boram winces as she watches the men tease him. “He’s never been much of an archer, I’m afraid.” But the good-natured Lord Min appears to take it all in stride, shrugging off their taunts as he trades his bow for a fresh tankard of ale.
The King takes his turn next – the lines of his body thicker and stronger than Lord Jung’s, but no less elegant. The men circle around your husband as he draws the bow back with one strong arm. He takes careful aim with his arrow and deftly plants it just above the target’s bullseye. The sound of the men’s whooping echoes across the field.
And so it goes for a while, with the men taking turns loosing their arrows to varying degrees of success.
Lords Park and Jeon both prove to be adequate archers, hitting the targets more often than not. The elder and younger Lord Kims are less skilled and spend the lion’s share of their time plucking arrows from the grass behind the targets. Lord Min quickly gives up on the endeavor entirely, opting instead to sit with his ale and heckle the others.
But the two best archers on the field refuse to be distracted by drink.
The King and Lord Jung set an arduous pace, loading and firing their arrows in quick succession. Even at a distance, even with your meager knowledge of archery, you can discern that both men are quite evenly matched in terms of skill. They load, fire, and strike their respective targets with precision.
On and on they persist – despite the brutal heat, despite the fact that the other men have begun to tire. One by one the other Guardsmen surrender, abandoning their bows and collapsing onto the grass to watch. 
“These two seem quite serious, don’t they?” Boram notes. 
They certainly do. The air of silly fun that’s sat over the group for much of the afternoon is all but gone now and what began as a diversion for all of the men has clearly become a challenge between just two. The other Guardsmen seem to sense the shift in atmosphere as well, their faces earnest as they watch the King and Lord Jung compete.
Physically, the two men are quite different. The King’s muscular arms and chest serve him well as he steadies his bow and fires. In contrast, Lord Jung’s body is lithe, sleek. He moves with an agility the King cannot. But both wear matching expressions of determination. And though this competition might have been amiable at the start, it’s now evident that neither man is willing to leave the field without a clear victor.
Lord Min calls out to them both – voice too distant for you to make out his words – and the men appear to nod in agreement. They both step back from the targets, increasing the difficulty of each shot. But it takes only a few more arrows to prove that the added distance is no hindrance to either man. Both set their stances again, both aim and fire, and both land their arrows with ease.
The Guardsmen sitting nearby fall silent, and in the absence of their racket the King’s answering growl of frustration echoes over the entire field. 
“Oh my,” Boram whispers. “I’d heard there was some tension between them, and it would certainly appear to be so.”
It certainly would. Right now, the King and Lord Jung look more like rivals seeking to settle a score than lifelong friends. 
The King’s agitation is apparent in every move he makes, in the way he jerks the arrows out of the straw targets and stalks back into position. Lord Jung’s agitation is equally apparent. He accepts a skin of water from Lord Min without so much as a thanks and hands it back once he’s drained it.
It’s a strange thing to see the handsome Guardsman challenge his King with the very same passion in which he’d defended him just days prior.
“Has the King spoken to you about it?”
“No,” you admit stiffly, “He has not. Are you determined to keep me in the dark, as well?”
“Heavens, no,” Boram protests, pulling Yeona into her lap. She hands the baby a rice cake and Yeona sets to gumming at it right away. “I would never want you to think that I’m speaking ill of the King, is all.” 
“I could never think that of you.”
There is hesitation in Boram’s face when she flicks her dark eyes back to meet yours. 
“Well, the details I have are few,” she starts slowly. “But what I know is that the King expressed a wish to see Lord Jung married again and Lord Jung, from my understanding was – ” she pauses, carefully considering her next words,“ – less than amenable to the idea.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Yoongi says they fought over the matter. Quite thoroughly, from what I’ve been told.”
“I see,” you say, taking great care to keep your expression impassive. “And did Lord Min explain why Lord Jung is so opposed to marriage? He’s still a young man. I can certainly see why the King would think it a logical proposition.”
Boram’s lips purse as she thinks.
“I do not know that I can say. Though I consider Lord Jung to be a dear friend, he can be terribly private about some matters.”
You cut your eyes towards the field to search for the man in question. 
Does she really know Lord Jung? Do you? Today there is no sign of the man who’d leveled you with a smile in the Great Hall, no trace of the man who’d teased you about riding clothes before helping you onto your mount. The man you see now wears a strained expression as he watches the King take aim, his energy volatile like a pot ready to boil over. 
Perhaps you’d been foolish to think him so different from the King. Perhaps they are as evenly matched in the art of duplicity as they are the skill of archery.
“So what will come of it?” you ask after a while. “Will the King – make him marry?”
“I don’t know,” Boram admits. “And therein, I suppose, is where much of the tension lies. Lord Jung has already taken a bride once in service to the Kingdom. I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to do it again.”
There’s a sudden commotion on the field then, an outburst that has Lords Park and Jeon on their feet. The younger men rush to meet the King and Lord Jung mid-field, nodding as the King speaks. Both take off running at once. 
“I’ve no clue what that is all about, but I do wish they’d end this already,” Boram grumbles, watching the young men disappear behind the tree line as they go off in search of whatever it is the King’s asked for. “I don’t know how much longer I can last in this heat.”
“Nor I,” you agree, watching the King and Lord Jung speak to one another. Both men look sober, the lines of their faces hard. “But it seems we’ll all have to endure it for just a bit longer in order to humor this contest of male prides.”
Some arduous minutes later, Lords Park and Jeon make their return to the field.
The dust kicked up by the horses they ride precedes them, the ground parched from weeks without rain. Both men arrive in a cloud of grime – Lord Jeon on the King’s mount and Lord Park on Lord Jung’s– and dismount without delay, handing the reins over to their elders.
So this is how they will decide the victor.
“Well, let’s hope they keep their wits about them,” Boram sighs. “Lest they both break their legs in the heat of competition.”
“Yes, let’s,” you mutter.
The King is first to take his turn, of course. 
He mounts Jeonsa with ease despite the horse’s grand height and takes his time warming the warhorse up. The King runs his mount in circles around the target until he’s satisfied with his plan and the timing of his shot. He steadies himself against the jostling with his strong thighs, pulling his bow back to fire. The arrow hits the target just below the bullseye. 
The men, who’ve spent hours now drinking in the hot sun, erupt into a chorus of ruffian cheers. 
Lord Jung wastes no time taking to his own mount. His horse is leaner and quicker than Jeonsa, and it’s clear that he commands complete control of the animal’s every step. Both horse and rider move as one as he urges his mount faster, straightening his back to fire. The arrow hits the target just above the bullseye.
The men are getting rowdy now, egging on both competitors as they circle on their horses. Their shouting is louder, more animated, and you would not at all be surprised if there were a few healthy wagers underway. You wonder which of the men they’ve bet on. 
You wonder which of the men you would bet on before pushing the thought away and reminding yourself that you’re not particularly fond of either at this moment. 
The King circles Jeonsa around the target once again, taking his time about it. He seems to consider every circumstance surrounding his next shot – the angle, the speed, the light wind that blows east. After a great deal of circling and thought, he rears back to release his arrow.
It lands on the target, just above the arrow planted by Lord Jung. 
The shouting from the men becomes a low roar.
Lord Jung pointedly ignores the commotion, rolling his shoulders as he stares down the target, brow knit in concentration. Soon he’s urging his mount to move, the pair fluid as they circle the target. 
Just like the King, Lord Jung circles longer for this shot than he had for the first. Twice he draws back as though ready to fire and thinks better of it. But after painstaking deliberation, he finds his stride. He pulls his arm back and sets his stance. Then he releases his arrow. 
And it misses the target entirely.
It flies off the end of Lord Jung’s bow with astonishing speed, gliding just to the right of the straw and landing off in the distance. The men are on their feet now, jumping and yelling and slapping one another on their backs. Lord Jung shakes his head in disgust.
“Well,” Boram reaches for her basket, loading her things into it with haste. “That’s settled now. I certainly hope at least one of them feels better. Let’s move into more liveable conditions, shall we?”
You open your mouth to agree just as you spot the King barreling towards you atop Jeonsa, leaving the men celebrating his victory on the field behind. 
You nearly stumble over the hem of your dress in your rush to rise to your feet. Your husband is grinning widely when he reaches you, stopping his mount long enough to extend one large hand. You place your hand in his and he dips his head to plant a kiss on your fingers.
“Well done, You Grace,” you demur, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “A hard-fought victory.”
“Thank you. I’m quite pleased with the outcome.”
The King acknowledges Boram with a smile before turning his mount to ride back to his men. You put a hand to your brow to shade your eyes and watch as they cheer for him – reward him with the adulation he’s clearly worked so hard for. 
But a thought occurs to you as you examine the scene in the distance. 
There is no sign of Lord Jung. 
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
The King comes to you that night – hair damp and smelling of fine soap, breath tinged faintly with ale. 
He coaxes you to your knees just as he’s done so many times before. His fingers slide against your most secret place, slippery just as they’ve been so many times before. And then he’s pushing inside you, hard and hot just as he’s been so many times before.
But there is something different about him tonight.
Your husband’s touch is rougher than you remember. His grip on your waist is harder than you remember, large hands moving from your waist to your backside to dig his blunt fingertips into the soft flesh. His thrusts are more forceful than you remember, more erratic, powerful enough to push you up the length of the bed. 
You fist your hands into the bedding and push back, refusing to allow your knees to buckle under the pressure. That earns you a low groan from the King – a sound that strikes a strange chord inside you; sends a shiver racing up your spine. You press your hot face into the sheets.
Perhaps Namjoon is still feeling the effects of an arduous afternoon in the hot sun. Perhaps he’s still in his cups after a night of drinking with his men. 
Or perhaps it is all just a trick of your mind.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Morning brings no improvement in your mood. Quite the opposite, in fact. 
You wake snappish, jarred from a fitful sleep by the sudden appearance of light in your chamber. Shafts of it – hot and harsh – stream through your windows, spill across your duvet, assault your eyes. You bury your face in the pillow in a futile attempt to avoid it, sweat beading at the nape of your neck until the uncomfortable warmth forces you to quit the bed.
But the rude manner of your awakening is only one reason for your irritation.
The other is the lingering tenderness between your legs, a dull ache you can feel with each careful step. The sensation is more an annoyance than a true discomfort, but it vexes you nonetheless. Each muted throb serves as an unwelcome reminder of your visit from the King, of the peculiar way he’d bedded you last night. 
Your face flames as you think of it.
What is he about, your husband? And what of the juvenile, chest-thumping nonsense you’d witnessed yesterday afternoon? The combative way he’d gone up against Lord Jung and the grand show he’d made of coming to you to fête his victory. Boorish, absurd behavior – all of it. 
You go about your morning ablutions in silence, unwilling to meet Hyeri’s eyes for even one moment. You are in no mood to withstand her meddling today – well-intentioned or otherwise – and so it is for the best that she helps you wash and dress in relative silence. 
If there is something the older woman means to say, she has the good sense to swallow it, murmuring only a quiet warning about the heat as you slip out the chamber door.
And heavens, how you are wholly unprepared for the heat.
It, too, has worsened overnight – the air around you nearly thick enough to drink. You hurry towards the aviary, spurred on by the promise of the shade beneath its trees, but by the time you are finally seated at your desk you are soggy and sticky all over. Slick with sweat between your thighs and beneath your arms and breasts. 
Perhaps you should have heeded Hyeri’s warning. 
The thought rankles you as you open your book and attempt to pick up your story where you’d left it. You start and stop the same sentence over and over again, the heat so tyrannical that you can barely breathe, much less think. Even the King’s prized birds refuse to fly under such conditions – opting instead to perch on the highest branches, wings lifted to cool themselves with the occasional passing breeze. 
The stillness unnerves you; makes your aggravation mount with each unbearable minute that ticks by and before long, you throw your novel down in frustration. This will not do.
Loathe as you are to spend another day confined to the castle’s thick stone walls, there is no avoiding it. You’ll not survive another half hour in this heat, which means you’ll certainly not be able to pass an entire afternoon in it. You huff as you throw your things back into your basket and stalk off towards the aviary’s entrance.
But perhaps you should have been more mindful.
Immersed as you are in this black mood, you don’t notice the brambles growing at the edge of the heavy gate. You brush past them in a hurry, only to be wrenched back by the thorns that take hold of your skirt. You tug at the material with your free hand, successful only at tearing a hole in the fine linen but unsuccessful at pulling yourself free. You drop your basket in the struggle and the contents spill out, an apple rolling to a stop at your feet.
It is then that you do something very unladylike, something that would have earned you an exaggerated gasp from your sister or a sharp rebuke from your mother. 
You swear. Loudly.
You summon all of your frustration and scream what is perhaps the most undignified word you know at the very top of your lungs, the vulgarity echoing in the aviary’s eerie quiet. And though it’s done nothing to solve your current predicament, there’s something truly satisfying about speaking the nasty word out loud, about shouting it into existence.
That is, until someone coughs.
“I take it you need some help, Your Grace?”
You clap a hand over your mouth as you whirl in the direction of the voice.
Lord Min approaches slowly, eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes in your sorry state. You’ve no idea where he came from, but at this very moment you’ve never been so horrified and grateful to see him, all at the very same time. 
“Yes, I – ” you start and stop, flustered by both your behavior. “ – I’m stuck. The brambles are caught in my skirt and – ”
“Oh yes, I see,” he says, leaning down to examine the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. He tugs at the bottom of your skirt and you wince at the sound of the fabric tearing. “You’ve got yourself quite tangled up here, haven’t you?” 
“I believe I have,” you admit with embarrassment. Lord Min gets down on his knees and begins plucking thorns and burs out of the fabric, brow knit with concentration as he attempts to extricate what remains of your fine linen dress.
You clear your throat.
“My Lord, I hope I didn’t – Well, rather, I hope you were not offended by that word you heard me say. It’s not a word that I usually use, not really. Well, not ever. What I mean to say is that I know of coarse language, of course, but I’m certainly not in the habit of using it.”
“What word?” Lord Min interrupts your rambling from his perch at your feet, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Did you say something, Your Grace? I must not have heard it.”
The corners of his mouth curve into a cautious smile, which you return with a timid one of your own. His teasing is welcome. It brings badly-needed levity to your embarrassing situation and lightens the heaviness of this atrocious day.
“What’s this, Min?”
At once, the gesture dies on your lips.
Lord Jung comes into view by way of the same path taken by Lord Min, though his sudden appearance does not bring you the same kind of relief. Quite the opposite, in fact. 
The very moment he’s standing before you, critical gaze moving from you to Lord Min and back, you feel absolutely lightheaded with anxiety. You wonder what he must make of the scene he’s stumbled upon: Lord Min on his knees, at your feet, hands fisted in your skirts. 
“You Grace.” The lines of Lord Jung’s beautiful face are hard as he acknowledges you, his voice stiff and formal in a way that makes it foreign to your ears. He bows to you much in the same way, body rigid as he performs the required motion.
“My Lord,” you return with similar formality.
“Her Grace is stuck,” Lord Min explains, unaware or perhaps unbothered by the provocative position the two of you have been discovered in. “I’m trying to free her without ripping this linen to shreds. Could use your help, seeing as you’re standing there. Push that branch back for me?”
“Yes, of course.”
Oh, but now you feel a migraine coming on. Lord Jung squeezes into the space beside you, leaning over Lord Min to push the brambles back so that the older man may have both hands free to work. At this point, both men are too close, but he is far too close. Heat blazes a path up your neck and into your cheeks. 
Inhale, you twit. Exhale.
“Last few, Your Grace,” Lord Min announces, voice muffled by your skirts. “I think the linen will need a bit of mending, but not much more.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
Lord Jung’s gaze connects with yours. His dark eyes, normally so warm and expressive, are flat as he regards you. In fact, everything about the handsome guardsman’s countenance is uncharacteristically severe today, from the deep knit of his brows to the way his bow-shaped mouth presses into a firm line. He looks away from you without so much as a smile.
Is he – is he angry with you?
Your mouth nearly falls open at the realization. What right would Lord Jung have to be angry with you? It was he who’d laid the trap with the promise of a perfect afternoon spent riding and he who’d sprung the trap by defending your husband’s dishonesty. 
If either one of you had a just claim to animosity, it would most certainly be you. 
The awful word you’d uttered at the very start of this ridiculous dilemma springs right to the tip of your tongue. If only you had the courage to spit it at him. Horrid, infuriating man.
“There now,” Lord Min announces. “I think we’ve got it. Hang on to that bramble for a bit longer while Her Grace steps away from the gate.”
You start forward slowly, steps mercifully unencumbered by gnarled plants. Though Lord Min has done his best to salvage the fine linen, your skirt is now covered in a fine dusting of grime, torn in places from your knees to your ankles. Hyeri will have a fit when she sees you, but you couldn’t care less about the state of your ruined dress. The only thing that matters now is quitting this place at once.
“Thank you so much, Lord Min,” you breathe, dropping to your knees to gather your scattered things. The elder guardsman helps you retrieve the wayward charcoals and papers, which you hurriedly stuff back into your basket. “I’ll be off now and won’t take up any more of your afternoon.”
With that, you rush to your feet and turn on your heels to leave. You try not to think about the scene you’re leaving behind – Lord Min puzzled by your sudden exit, Lord Jung affronted by the fact that you’d pointedly ignored him in your thanks. 
You make haste with those first few steps towards freedom, only to be pulled back once again. Only this time, not by jagged brambles.
“Your Grace.”
The hairs on the back of your neck stand at the sound of the gruff voice behind you. You turn around slowly, acutely aware of both men watching your every move. When Lord Jung steps forward, your eyes fall to the gently worn leather binding in his hands. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 
You take great care to school your features, though the panic rising inside of you threatens to spill out. Your most private thoughts are inside that book. Fragments of poems and unsent letters and one horribly incriminating sketch of a man who is most certainly not your husband.
“Thank you, My Lord,” you mumble, resisting the urge to run to him and snatch the book right out of his grip. You can feel him watching your every move as you approach to accept it with unsteady hands.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
A storm is coming. You can feel it.
Never mind that the sun is shining – or that the sky outside is a perfect, crystalline blue. The clouds dotted across the horizon hang in the air, unmoving. There is no wind to rustle the leaves in the trees. The calm is ominous. Foreboding.
“... think none of the people in this kingdom have ever seen this kind of display before. I imagine they’ll be quite awed by it. I’ve only ever seen it once myself, in a village far North. A strange lot, those people are. After all these years, they still dabble in the dark arts.”
At the other end of the long dining table before you sits the King. He’s been prattling on like this for the better part of ten minutes now; far too absorbed in his grand talk of the festival to note that his audience of one has yet to engage with a word that’s come out of his mouth.
“It’s strange though, to think of celebrating a Fall Festival in this heat. Though I generally prefer the heat to the cold, these conditions are quite beyond the pale. We’ll have to have just as much water on hand as we do ale.”
You make a sound under your breath that you hope will pass for discourse.
“Of course, there’s still much to be done. But the stewards assure me that everything will be ready in time. And there will be much to celebrate this year as I’m told the crops in all our holdings are faring well. The wheat has – ”
The King’s jabbering comes to an abrupt stop.
“You’ve barely eaten,” he notes, in a sudden fit of awareness. He regards you over the rim of his wine glass, curious. “Is the jajangmyeon not to your liking?”
“It is to my liking,” you insist, pushing the wheat noodles around your bowl in a half-hearted attempt to appease him. “As always. I suppose I’m just not very hungry tonight, is all.”
“I find that surprising,” the King says, as though you’d asked his opinion on the matter. “I understand you were brave enough to venture out into that awful heat this afternoon. I would have thought you’d be famished tonight.”
Every muscle in your body tenses at once.
“Oh?”
“I spoke with Hyeri this afternoon,” the King elaborates, oblivious to his misstep. “She said she’d warned you against leaving the castle under those conditions, but you’d off and done it anyway.” He chuckles under his breath as he recounts the conversation. “I think you surprise her at times with how strong-willed you can be.”
Beneath the table, your hands ball into fists.
The thought of Hyeri disclosing the details of your day to the King, no matter how trivial, incenses you. You imagine them together over tea, sharing a laugh as they trade observations about your shortcomings. Or worse – meeting with one another somber-faced as they commiserate over your inability to produce a child. 
That thought is the most insidious. Your nails dig savagely into your palms.
“Do you and Hyeri discuss my comings and goings often, then, Your Grace?” 
Your husband shrugs, helping himself to another generous serving of noodles.
“Often enough, I suppose.”
“So am I then to assume that when you ask me about my day, you are merely standing on ceremony? Surely you must be, given that you’ve already had a full report from my handmaid.”
The King sets down his chopsticks to look at you, perplexed by the contentious turn in this conversation. But he’s careful to school his features as he considers what to say next.
“Of course not,” he starts slowly. “I ask after you because I genuinely want to know about your day. It’s a consideration that I would think customary between husbands and wives.”
Is he – is he toying with you?
What on earth would His Grace know about what’s customary between husbands and wives? He is the one who’s made this marriage into a farce with his deceit and adultery. He is the one who’s held you at arm’s length from the very start in order to protect the woman he truly loves. Your husband’s hubris is as astonishing as it is aggravating. Horrid, infuriating man.
“Well I, for one, would genuinely like to know about your day, Your Grace,” you say, unable to keep venom from seeping into your every word. “So tell me then – as is customary between husband and wives – how did you pass the afternoon?”
The color drains from the King’s face. 
You should shut your mouth now and say no more, you know it – but by now you are far too consumed with anger to give much thought to the consequences of sharp words. You push the bowl of jajangmyeon away and get to your feet.
“Nothing of interest to share, then?” You raise a brow as you stare down at your husband, unwilling to look away for even one moment. “What a pity. Perhaps tomorrow.”
The King’s eyes narrow but his mouth stays shut. He says nothing in his own defense, says nothing to attempt to placate you. 
And he says nothing as you turn your back on him and walk out the door.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
The first crack of thunder sounds just as you’re readying for bed. You stand at your window and watch the storm roll in. 
Black clouds build off in the distance, discernible only by the occasional flare of lightning. Each bright flash is followed by an earth-shaking rumble that satisfies you somehow, as though you’ve manifested this squall with your thoughts. The violent wind and rain it carries with it a mirror of the tempest inside you.
“Do you require anything else, Your Grace?”
Hyeri’s voice comes from behind, timid and small. She’s been tiptoeing around your chamber all evening, clearly disquieted by the cold reception you’d given her upon your return. The well-bred, well-behaved woman inside you whispers that you should turn to her, do something to reassure her, but you refuse. 
Fortified by your anger, you keep your back to Hyeri and go on staring at the storm clouds.
“No,” you say firmly. “You can retire for the night.”
“But I – ” Hyeri starts, stops, and then sighs. “Very well. As you wish, Your Grace.”
And you do wish. You wish for Hyeri to leave you – not just tonight, but every night. And you wish not just for Hyeri to leave you – but all of them. You’ve grown quite tired of humiliating yourself in this kingdom; of placing your trust in people who’ve made you into a fool time and time again. 
There is rustling as the older woman hurriedly gathers her things, then a brief pause before she slips out the door. The heavy thud that finally announces her departure brings you some small measure of peace, but it does not last.
Your bath-damp body is warm when you slip beneath the heavy duvet. Too warm. Though the storm raging nearby brings with it the promise of cool rain, it is still too far off to displace the humid air in your chamber. You toss and turn beneath the heavy covers for a while, your thin nightgown soaked through with sweat by the time you finally kick your bedding away.
So you lie there in the dark, close to feverish with heat and unable to settle down. Every time you close your eyes, you’re taunted by images – of Hyeri, of the King, of the child that never comes. What you would give to be able to quiet your mind, to have some respite from the reality of your circumstances.
But there will be no respite, not any time soon. The thunder outside is close enough now to shake the castle’s heavy walls with each new blast that rips through the sky. You feel the tremors right down to your bones, the sensation causing goosebumps to scatter across your skin. 
In spite of the heat, you shiver. 
There’s a prickling that starts at your scalp and goes right down to your toes. It makes you itch with the desire to drag your nails down your arms and legs. It makes you want to squeeze your thighs together, tight and tighter still until your agitation is gone. Perhaps that is the solution. 
You cup your breasts through the damp, thin material of your nightgown. They feel sensitive, tender — and the very moment you brush your fingertips over your nipples they come to life, pebbling against the gauzy fabric. 
You close your eyes and try to imagine that your hands are not your own. That the fingers that close around the aching buds, teasing and testing, are not your fingers. That the dormant pleasure the pressure rouses inside you has instead been roused by someone else. 
In your mind, the hand that steals between your thighs is not your own. It’s larger than yours, the fingers longer and rougher than yours. You imagine that hand parting your legs, coarse fingertips slippery against the wetness gathered at your entrance. And you imagine it caressing you there, expertly stroking the spot that makes the air leave your lungs. 
What would it be like to be touched like this? To have a lover’s lips at your neck and his hand between your thighs? To have the weight of him pressing down on you, the scent of him enveloping you – to feel his warm breath fan over your skin?
These thoughts only serve to make the ache between your legs more pronounced. But the more you attend to it, the sharper it becomes. Pleasure blooms with each inexpert pass of your fingers over that place, but in its wake your desperation grows, too. 
You whine under your breath as you touch yourself harder, faster – a heaviness building at your core that makes you feel full, overripe. There is relief on the other side of whatever this is, and you know it. 
But can you reach it? 
Your imaginary lover would know how to help you reach it. He would take you in his arms and in his mouth and leave no inch of your body untouched. He would fuse himself to you, skin-to-skin, and show you how to beckon your pleasure at will, help you realize its full potential. 
In your mind’s eye you can see him – legs and arms strong and lean, golden skin illuminated by firelight. The mouth he sets to your aching nipples would be soft, lips pretty and bow-shaped. And his hair would be dark and his eyes would be a rich chocolate and his face would be – 
A clap of thunder explodes in the sky. 
Your eyes fly open – unseeing – as you gasp from the shock of it. It leaves you trembling, body slick with sweat and limbs tingling from the sudden fear. You lie there in the dark, panting as you wait for your heart to stop racing. 
And just like that, the pleasure you’ve been chasing is gone. Quick as a rabbit. 
Outside your window the heavens weep, the rain beating against the ground like a hail of arrows. 
The dry earth enjoying a relief that always seems to elude you.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
“Magnificent, Your Grace.” 
Hyeri passes a hand over the embellishments in your bodice, chest puffed with pride as she examines the dressmaker’s handiwork. Though her brown eyes have long gone dull and gray with age, they shine as she steps back to take you in from head to toe. “Just magnificent.”
It is magnificent – far and away the finest garment you have ever worn. 
Rich, plum-colored velvet embellished with gilt thread, the plunging neckline and bliaut sleeves lined with pressed bezants. You hardly recognize the woman looking back at you in the mirror, the one with her hair swept off her neck in an intricate braided bun, eyes darkened with kohl, ears and neck adorned with sparkling gold. Whoever that woman is, she is far bolder and far more sophisticated than you.
“There’s nothing like his work,” Hyeri muses, running a thumb over pattern pressed into the hem of one sleeve. “Frail as he is, it takes him ages to complete a dress. But he’s worth it. Worth the wait and worth every single won.”
You study the intertwining gold patterns stitched into the bustline. No doubt the King has paid dearly for this dress and all its fine accoutrements. The thought of your husband spending an obscene amount of money on it nearly puts a smile on your face. 
“You look remarkable in this dress,” Hyeri remarks quietly, wrinkled mouth lifting at the corners with a cautious smile. “Well, of course, you look remarkable everyday, but especially tonight.” 
Her expression is bittersweet as she reaches for you, gently tucking a strand of hair that’s fallen loose of your braid behind your ear. This newfound emotional distance has been hard on her, you know. It’s been hard on you, too. And though holding her at arm’s length has proven difficult at times, it feels somehow vital to your self-preservation.
“Don’t forget your shawl,” Hyeri says softly. “It’s gotten quite cold out there.”
It certainly has. The storm that ripped through the kingdom just days ago took the insufferable heat with it, leaving behind a pure, crystalline cold. The night sky is clear enough to see for miles. 
So you accept the shawl from Hyeri with a quiet thanks, avoiding her eyes as you slip out the chamber door.
By the time you make your way to the great hall, the revelry is already well underway. You can hear it pulsing through the slats of the heavy wooden doors, the music and commotion contained within powerful enough to stir the ground beneath your feet. The footmen posted at either side of the entrance bow deeply as you approach, then move to pull the doors open.
You raise a hand to still them, wanting a moment to steel yourself before entering the fray.
“I’m not – If you’ll just give me – ”
One of the guards steps forward to speak when your words falter.
“No need to explain, Your Grace,” he says earnestly. “Just let us know when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” You take as deep a breath as your elaborate gown will allow. “Truly.”
You already know what awaits on the other side of those doors. Artificial smiles that hide whispers about your empty womb, honeyed and hollow words of praise from your exasperating husband. Pity too, perhaps, from those connected enough to be privy to the true state of your marriage. 
But you’ll bear it. You must. Because it’s what’s expected of you and because your political survival in this kingdom depends on it.
“Well then,” you say, smoothing down your velvet skirt with trembling hands. "I believe I've had time to collect myself."
The very same footman that had spoken to you just moments earlier gives you a sympathetic smile as he places one hand on the door’s ornate wrought iron handle. He pauses to look at you before signaling to the other footman, one brow raised as if to say are you sure?
You swallow thickly and nod your affirmation.
Slowly, the heavy doors are pulled open, creaking as they part. You step forward to enter, feeling a rush of cool air at your heels. The brief hush that falls over the great hall makes your heartbeat quicken.
But then the King stands. 
He rises to his feet and bows to you, and every person inside the great hall follows suit. You return his bow and then straighten, holding your head up high as you set off to fulfill your duty.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
The King makes no mention of the tense meal you’d shared just a few nights prior. Not that you’d expected him to. If anything, your husband’s predilection for avoidance has been one of his most consistent traits. And if he’s harbored any ill feelings about the curt words you’d spoken that night, surely they’ve been washed away in a torrent of ale.
He’s already a bit drunk when you take your seat beside him – pleasantly so, if his ruddy cheeks and leisurely smile are any indication. His dark eyes are glassy as they sweep over your form, taking in the grandeur of your dress. But they linger at your bust for just a heartbeat too long and it takes all the self-control you can muster to not kick him beneath the table.
“You look fetching in that dress,” the King notes, reaching for his tankard. “The color suits you.”
“Oh? Then you’ll be pleased to know I’ve dozens more just like it on the way.”
You startle a laugh from the King just as he’s taken a drink and he splutters on it, coughing until tears gather at the corners of his eyes. “Very good of you to warn me before the bill comes due,” he wheezes.
“But of course, Your Grace.” You infuse your words with cloying, contrived sweetness, putting a hand over your heart for emphasis. “It is the very least I could do.”
The King chuckles as you turn to look out over the room. 
The tables below the raised platform on which you both dine are teeming with people, their long wooden benches bowing beneath the substantial weight. They are littered with food and drink, tankards and platters and goblets scattered for as far as the eye can see. 
You sip your wine and watch partygoers reach over one another for noodles and steal dumplings from their neighbors’ plates.
It takes a minute for you to spot Boram. She and Lord Min are tucked into a corner, cozy and close. Your dear friend is the very picture of contentment; resplendent in a royal blue gown, glowing in the torchlight when her husband presses a kiss to her temple. Your heart aches as you watch them. What you would give to have what they have – to know the fulfillment they’ve found in one another.
In fact, the Mins make for such a compelling tableau that you nearly overlook the one behind it. Lord Jung is dressed in an arresting black and gold tunic, dark hair styled away from his face and a tankard of ale in his hand. And he is not alone.
Seated close to him – so very close – is a woman. A beautiful woman, as best you can tell from a distance. Her dark red dress in perfect contrast to her shiny fall of dark hair, the garment cut to accentuate what can only be described as a generous bust. She leans in to Lord Jung as she says something, décolletage on full display when she throws her head back to laugh.
Your grip on the wine goblet in your hand tightens.
The woman is brazen, that much you can tell. Her proximity to the Guardsman is far too close to be proper, her scandalous –  if stunning – manner of dress far too self-indulgent to be benign. And though you cannot make out clearly how she’s been received by Lord Jung, the very fact that he has not sent her away is telling. Is this the woman he intends to marry, then? Or just a diversion for the night? 
You drain the wine that remains in your goblet and signal for the serving girl to bring you more.
Moments later Lord Jung, too, flags down a passing servant to fill his tankard. For a man who once took great pride in extolling his discipline with spirits, he seems to be exercising very little of it tonight. In fact, he looks to be indulging as much or perhaps even more than his fellow Guardsmen. Perhaps that is why he does not he does not move to distance himself when the alluring woman at his side places a hand on his arm.
You swallow another large sip of wine.
“It’s nearly time for the evening’s entertainment,” the King says. “I think you’ll be impressed by what’s in store.”
You cannot tear your gaze from the scene before you. You cannot stop staring at the comely woman at Lord Jung’s side – stiffening in your seat when she leans over to whisper in his ear.
“I’m looking forward to it,” you say absentmindedly, lifting your wine glass to your lips once again.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
When you were a girl, barely ten years old, your father had come home from a long journey with a fantastic tale. 
He’d spoken of fire – in shades of red and green and gold – launched into the sky, embers raining down on the earth in a magnificent display. You’d been spellbound by the picture he’d painted for you, wishing desperately to see this phenomenon for yourself.
And now you have.
The King’s promise of a surprise well exceeds your expectations. Each new flare sent up over the open field is met with a hush from the crowd, followed by loud cheers and applause as it explodes into color.
“I brought them back from a village up North,” the King explains, preening at the crowd’s reception. “And though I wanted to show them right away, I made myself wait until the most advantageous time. What do you make of them?”
“They’re splendid,” you answer earnestly. “I’ve never seen anything so grand.”
The King hides a satisfied smile behind the rim of his tankard. By this point in the evening, he’s crossed the line from agreeably drunk to good and well soused – as have many of the others in attendance. You, too, are feeling the effects of your wine, experiencing that strange weightlessness that can only be brought on by drink.
And you are glad for the distraction of the fire display. 
It’s helped pull your focus away from Lord Jung and that woman. Though each time there is a brief break in the presentation, you cannot help but search the throng for any sign of them. You wonder where they are right now. What they might be doing. But then you drown the bitter thoughts with the wine in your goblet.    
The night wears on and the crowd around you becomes rowdier, louder – the ale barrels slowly disappearing one by one. Even the King is looking a bit worse for the wear. He’s sagged into the chair beside you, heavy-lidded as he watches the bright detonations that light up the sky.
You are not faring much better. A dull throb taps at your temples, no doubt the consequence of drinking too much wine, and you suspect that it will be far more pronounced come morning. You ought to retire for the evening now, while you still have some of your wits about you.
You open your mouth to say as much to the King at the very same time you catch sight of a slim man ambling away from the crowd. Though he’s hundreds of yards away and though there’s little light beyond the torches and the occasional embers in the sky, you recognize him right away. 
You would recognize him anywhere.
Impulsively, you get to your feet and utter a rushed goodbye to the King. He bids you farewell with a sluggish smile and not a moment later he’s gone back to gazing skyward, mesmerized by the lights. Just ahead, Lord Jung slinks off into the shadows, moving with an unsteady gait. 
And you follow him. To what end you cannot be sure.
⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️
Clearly, you’d given no real thought to this course of action. 
If you had, you’d not be scurrying across damp grass right now, struggling to keep your balance in your beautiful velvet dress. The heavy fabric weighs you down with each step, making each footfall precarious. In fact, if you’d stopped for even a moment to consider the implications of stealing away to pursue a man who is not your husband, you’d have ended this lunacy long before it even began.
But here you are in the dark, chasing after Lord Jung. With only the moon to light your way.
The slender man moves quickly, unburdened by the trappings of women’s formalwear and assisted by his long legs. You lift the hem of your dress off the ground and do your best to keep up on the shadowy path. Just a short distance ahead you can make out the lines of a thatched roof and wooden fence. 
It’s the stables, you realize, and the pieces start to fall into place.
He’s come here to meet that woman. The two of them must have agreed to leave the festival and come here for a secret tryst. Were you a woman in your right mind, that realization would stop you cold and send you running straight back to the castle. But you are absolutely not in your right mind. You are dangerous tonight; fearless from the wine flowing freely in your veins.
As such, the very thought of Lord Jung arranging for a passionate liaison with this woman has the opposite effect. It infuriates you. And you’ll not be satisfied until you can see the proof for yourself and then end this fixation once and for all.
Overhead, a flare of light illuminates the darkness just as you’re nearing the horse stalls. It’s followed by the sound of sizzling gunpowder, and it draws your attention skyward. You look up just in time to see wisps of fire tumble back to the earth. But when you fix your gaze forward again, Lord Jung is gone.
What on earth?
You’ve barely begun to consider your next move before your body is moving of its own volition, jerked right off the walking path by a hand that wraps around your arm like a band of steel. Lord Jung drags you behind the horse stall with one hand and claps the other over your mouth to smother the sound of hysteria that threatens to escape.
“What. Are. You. Doing?”
He hisses the words, one by one, his low vibrato thrumming with barely-contained anger. You’ve yet to recover from the shock of being accosted in the dark and so you stare at him, bewildered and mute.
He releases you, dropping the hand covering your mouth to walk to the edge of the stables. You watch as he ducks his head around the corner to check the walking path. Once he’s satisfied you’ve not been followed, he rounds on you.
“Anyone could have seen you.”
“No one saw me,” you scowl, finding your voice. You rub your forearm where his fingers dug painfully into your flesh. “They’re all far too drunk to see anything, I assure you.”
The Guardsman shoves a hand through his dark hair and exhales deeply.
“What are you about tonight, Your Grace?” 
A fair question, and one you ought to have considered before dashing off into the night. But you’d been so hellbent on hunting the man down that you’d given no real thought to what you’d do if you actually caught him. You hesitate for so long that he grows impatient, closing in on you.
“What,” he repeats slowly, “Are you about?”
“I don’t know,” you admit.
“Well, you ought to know,” he growls. “You ought to know damned well exactly what you’re about before you go off following men into the dark.”
But it’s not as though you’ve followed just any man into the dark, is it? You’d followed him. The admonishment riles you, bringing your temper back to a full boil. You straighten your spine and sear him with a withering look.
“That woman tonight. At the feast. She wants you to bed her.”
Lord Jung’s dark eyes go wide just before they narrow. He stalks towards you slowly, forcing you to retreat until your back is flush to the stable’s rough wooden slats. Slivers of moonlight play off his angular face, making the shadows in the hollows of his cheeks more pronounced.
He’s beautiful – even like this – even when he’s so irate that he can barely stand still.
“I know what she wants,” he murmurs, voice sinking to an octave that raises goosebumps on your arms. “What I do not know is what you want. What I do not know is why you are here.”
“So you intend to bed her,” you challenge.
Something dangerous flickers in the man's expression as he regards you, gaze potent enough to almost make you regret your sudden bout of daring. Almost.
“No.”
And so there is no tryst. No agreement between secret lovers. Adrenaline floods your veins, bringing with it a clarity that you’ve not had since you began drinking tonight. You’ve been reckless – so, so reckless – and now there is no undoing what you’ve done. 
“I’ve answered your question and now you will answer mine,” Lord Jung warns, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “What. Do. You. Want?”
All the fire has left you now. Whatever force possessed you to confront this man in this way has disappeared, leaving behind only a sickly taste in your mouth. You’ll feel more than just the wine in the morning, you know it. 
“Brave enough to follow me into the dark, brave enough to demand I explain my plans for bedsport,” he continues, brows knit as he stares you down. “But somehow, not brave enough to tell me what you’re doing here in the first place.”
“I – ” 
“Tell me then,” he goads, growing more agitated by the minute. “Open your mouth and speak. Tell me why you’re here. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to kiss me.”
You ought to have slapped him across the face. At the very least, you would have earned the look he’s giving you right now – this frozen mask of incredulity that’s come over him. He backs away from you slowly, as though poised to run. But he doesn’t.
“You’re mad.”
“I am not mad,” you say evenly, with a poise you’d not thought yourself capable of. “You asked me what I want and I’ve told you. I want you to kiss me.”
Another burst of color explodes in the sky. A loud cheer goes up over the field nearby, a disquieting reminder of the hundreds of people milling about just a short walk away. The commotion seems to sober him.
“Go home, Your Grace.” His words are strangled, forced. “You are playing with fire. You have no idea what you’re doing here.”
You stiffen, lifting your nose in the air. 
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you lie.
Your insistence only serves to make him even more agitated. He begins to pace back and forth, glowering at you as he moves.
“Go back to your castle, Your Grace. Go back to your fine life and your fine things and no one will ever be the wiser.”
“I will not,” you refuse, petulant.
Lord Jung delivers his last blow, the fatal one, in a voice so graveled it sounds as though the words are spoken by a stranger. And perhaps he is a stranger, this man you’ve been so infatuated with. Perhaps he’s nothing like what you’ve made him in your own mind.
“Go back to your husband,” he growls. “Your King.”
Your humiliation is instant and acute. You burn with it, the embarrassment so all-consuming that it nearly makes you see stars. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, feel your heart pounding in your throat when you finally manage to speak.
“The King doesn’t want me,” you say stiffly. “Though I am certain you already know that.”
“The King is a fool!” he explodes, surging forward and slamming his hands down on either side of you. The outburst is violent enough to shake the horse stall and the venom in his countenance nearly makes you come out of your skin. His mouth hovers terrifyingly close to yours, so close that you can nearly taste the ale on his breath. You stop breathing altogether. 
Then he wrenches himself away from you, staggering backwards as though he’s been burned.
“And so am I.”
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i’d love to hear from you about this chapter! you can talk to me here. otherwise, i hope you enjoyed it and only the final chapter is left 💕
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7ndipity · 2 months
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idk if this is out of pocket but i can’t stop laughing at the idea. you know the trend of people being like “what i would do if i had a dick” and it’s really stupid stuff like temporary tattoos and whatever but there’s the main idea of like stacking doughnuts on it? 😭😭😭😭 i was wondering if you would write an ot7 reaction to you asking (jokingly/not seriously) to stack doughnuts on their dick 😭😭😭 i am so sorry in advance 😭😭😭😭
Omfgbfgbt I didn’t know that that was the main idea!? But now I’m thinking about it, soo...
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Jin:
Totally on board with your curiosity. “That’s… Actually, you know what? I've never tried that.” *starts unbuttoning his pants
Yoongi:
Has absolutely no patience for any of this. “Why would you waste doughnuts like that?”🤨
Hobi:
“Bffvbfhjvdsbvvofihbnf!" He would be too busy cackling to actually answer you, but yeah, the answers probably no.🤭
Namjoon:
Slightly embarrassed, but mostly just baffled by your question. “I… No?…”
Jimin:
Would be way too flustered to actually answer you. “I- what?! dfihrdiukcdbkfe?!"
Taehyung:
Confused, but lowkey willing to try anything for you. “You know what? I don’t know if that's even possible, but we can find out, if you want.”
Jungkook:
100% on board. “I’ve actually wondered about this! How many do you think we can stack?” *starts unbuttoning his pants
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
184 notes · View notes
soraviie · 1 year
Text
they're possessive.txt
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━ type: bts x gn! reader    ━ navigation
━ about: angst with a side of spice, slight humour idk I just be doing shit
━  pictures taken from Pinterest
━ what y'all think of this one? please let me know
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NAMJOON | A greedy, spiteful, spindling arm comes up on your waist, pressing you tightly against its just as equally greedy and spiteful owner's form. While aggravating, the gesture is of no surprise. You don't even jump when the grip begins to press more on your ribs than you'd necessarily like. You drive an elbow into his side, momentarily meeting those narrowed eyes of his.
You're annoying.
I don't like him.
Am I supposed to care that you don't like him?
The argument is held entirely mute. He knows you know and you know he knows though poor Daniel — he's all together clueless.
"Hello, you must be...uh, ____________'s boyfriend? Right?"
Delicately, you snort in your palm, immediately sensing the way Namjoon's muscles tense on the other side of your blouse. The heat of his palm resting on the small of your back is scorching.
And whether it's from that or the minuscule way his jaw clenches, repeatedly coming to a brutal grind to then release only for the motion to repeat in endless circles; whether it was the tightness of the smile — there's a tight tick at the gap in the small space between his mouth curving upwards and his cheek that says he's not actually smiling despite appearing very much so — or whether it was something as simple as the fact that his eyes had been tracking your every minute for a solid piece of ten minutes now that delivers this easy deduction right in your lap.
He's into one of those moods.
There's a distinct coldness in his eye, a sort of a less than impressed expression that anyone, even someone so generally lost as Daniel could pick up on.
"We were just talking about the role of guilt and class consciousness," he trails off, squeaking slightly at the very end. You don't exactly fault him for it. Having a large man towering over you, feasibly blowing smoke out of his nose would put anyone ill at ease. "In....s-sustainability m-m-marketing. Yes."
"Smart, my ______________, right?" Namjoon chuckles to himself lowly. Daniel echoes the laugh, regardless, of how nervous the cadence of his voice is. Once again you don't fault him for it. A stranger would have no trouble believing that Namjoon's laughter is in good faith. He's honed the subtle art of being a fake a little bitch but you who knows better...well, you know better. You know that the kiss your darling — your huffing, festering, seething darling — presses upon your temple is far from good faith. The way his fingers squeeze your grip, all greed and jealousy, is so far from good faith it's downright atheist.
"They a-are," Daniel stammers, gaze flitting between Namjoon and you. Stupidly he's fallen into the trap.
"So you like my ___________?" he wilts underneath the weight of Namjoon's glare. "My ____________?"
Fed up with the nonsense, you push his hand away. His head darts to sit on the floor.
"Just go," you order Daniel and without hesitation, the coward scurries off to the dark dingy corner he came from. So perhaps you also didn't like him, it still wasn't a reason to act like that. And Namjoon knows this because though obstinate, there is a bashful glimmer that prohibits him from looking you in the eye.
"Your ____________?" you scoff. "Presumptious, no?"
"No," he spits. The lights flash overhead, a cacophony of colours that's mirrored in the dark of his stare that's abruptly grows fixated on your face. The room reeks of champagne, stale air and someone's vape smoke and this man stands in front of you — annoying, determined, aggravating and he loves you.
And because you love him just as much you let it slide with the only protest offered being an eye roll.
"You are mine."
YOONGI | "Do you...want to have a drink?"
His entire silhouette is downturned. Had you been an uninvested bystander you'd probably call his pouting expression comical because how does one manage to look that sullen in the middle of his own award ceremony. But alas you're not an uninvested bystander, you're a confused person thrown in the midst of your partner's raging emotions.
He doesn't speak for such a long time you're ready to open your mouth again, certain that he simply didn't hear your offer but then he answers, quiet and lifeless:
"No, thank you."
You observe his hands. His hands that do the speaking when his mouth cannot and unsurprisingly, you find them quite anxious. His nails rip at the bed of his skin, pulling the strips one by one. You cringe at the sight and place your palm upon his however when he fails to move, you pull back. So he doesn't want to talk.
Surreptiously, you scooch away, giving Yoongi his space but like a bullet he darts out his hand to catch you by the elbow, pulling you back down.
A singular "please don't" that dies somewhere in his throat barely manages to reach your ears, nonetheless, you oblige and the tension in his rounded shoulders eases, if a bit.
Safe to say the walk back home was awkward.
"You're..." he speaks so suddenly, you jolt hearing his voice in the otherwise deadly silent staircase. "I thought I was always the first one you sent your lyrics to?"
It's such a weird question that you stop dead in the tracks and half turn to him on the overtly glamorous stairs to his penthouse. You never did like them. And now he's standing here atop of these stairs wearing a multitude expressions that simultaneously reveal everything and nothing. The line of his mouth is set down — grim and annoyed, his eyes are turned at an angle — the one that meant trouble, deep trouble yet the look within them was sad. You'd call it insecure though never aloud knowing he didn't appreciate such a thing.
"You're the first proper person I sent them to."
"Proper," he scoffs. "Is she not proper? Standing on a stage, receiving award for the song with your lyrics."
"She wasn't back then. Back then we were just dreaming idiots while you were already a star," you justify. He doesn't seem to like the explanation.
"Those lyrics meant so much to me, you know," he breaks. Not a lot but just enough, a break in the otherwise pungent dark. "It was as though you'd pried my ribcage open and prodded at my heart. I've never felt so...bare."
Automatically, you let out "I'm sorry" despite not knowing what you're apologising for. A bad habit he'd previously chided you for. He shakes his head either saying there's no need to say sorry or rejecting it altogether.
"Are you angry with me?"
Yoongi breathes a long, strained sigh, dejectedly shaking his head.
"No...no, it's not you I'm mad at."
"Then who?"
He fails to answer, instead choosing to run up the stairs where you were starting and to your surprise taking your hand into his.
Leading you back home, he asks, all casual:
"You love me...right?"
"Of course, I do!" offended, you retort. "What kind of qu-!"
"Say it out loud."
"What?"
"Say out loud that you love me. That you're mine."
To further feign his relaxed state, he begs for this whilst punching in the code for the doors — each ding of the number dragging on and on in the stilted air of the hallway.
"Please, say it."
You give a small smile and lean into his arm. You finally get it.
"I love you and I'm yours. Don't worry."
Not much is spoken after that.
JIN | "Let's just do it, okay?"
"Huh?!"
His eyes widen, clearly mocking your outrage as lithe hands press the bowl out of your fingers, dragging you by the sleeve out of the country house. The morning is utterly fresh. Birds shriek and lilt their songs, perched just outside the window on the growing orchard, dew still glistens in the green grass and the world is at peace.
Or it was.
Before this demon decided to ruin your life.
As per freaking usual.
"I meant let's get the berries, you pervert," he dares to roll his eyes. You try to break free of his grasp but just like anchors board ships the strength of his clutch is unbreakable.
"It's 7 in the morning, Seokjin!"
"Seokjin," he echoes derisively. "No one calls me Seokjin."
"Lots of people do!"
"Then how about you don't."
"Ok, Mr Kim, whatever you say."
"That's even wor-no, actually on a second thought, I like it."
"Ugh, you're disgusting!" you snap, whilst for reasons unbeknownst to yourself still putting on shoes and a shawl. It's not like he even was your friend. The relationship you two shared in between the confusing circle of relatives, friends and acquaintances was exactly that — confusing. He was a friend of your cousin, somehow, a God's joke if anything, and hence why you found yourself be dragged by him in the rustic country house in the throes of upcoming summer. Funnily enough when he'd been introduced to you, Seokjin was presented as "shy and introverted, wouldn't hurt a fly, wouldn't speak a word". It had turned out to be the furthest thing from the truth. At least when it came to you. It was as though it was his life's mission bestowed from the ancestors to grate every single one of your nerves.
"Disgustingly handsome," he brushes off, unconcerned by your low growls and huffs of protest. Footsteps tremble the old wooden stairs underneath your butt, signaling a possible saviour.
"What are you guys up to so early?" Jae rubs the sleep out of his eyes, coming to stand before you and dropping his drooling head upon your shoulder. You welcome your head with energy never displayed before and Jin's expressions grows frighteningly lax.
"They squeezed this guy's head too hard in the military," you throw a thumb at his bristling figure. "He's lost it."
But Jin doesn't laugh instead his nose scrunches as though he'd smelt something deeply affronting all the while his eyes don't leave Jae. Suddenly he reaches to pry Jae's fingers away from your shoulder, gently albeit firmly guiding you away.
"This one needs some fresh air," he stiffly belts out and before you know it you're both out of the door. The fresh air is indeed nice — it hits you like a pleasant wall and rubbing at your tired eyes, you shuffle in the general direction where there was a splotch of green growth — raspberries, blackberries, gooseberries, though the latter Jin didn't trust at all.
You trudge along in silence, battling the thorny undergrowth along the well-trodden narrow path snaking through the field. However, the closer you get to the berries, the more fuss Jin puts up.
"They'll eat me alive!" he cries out, violently shooing away the black masses of hungry mosquitoes. "I'm too delicious to be out here!"
You perch a hand on your hip, giving him a thoroughly disapproving glare.
"If you were going to complain about coming here, why even bother?"
"Well how else was I supposed to get you all to myself?"
You think that even birds fall quiet hearing that.
"...what?"
"What?"
You both blink at each other.
"You...you want me...all to yourself?"
Jin laughs abruptly, the sound falling strained and nervous and in the soft light of the rising sun, his neck begins to glow bright red.
"Haha what nonsense," he chortles. "I see you're getting delusional, dear."
"What?!"
"WHAT?!"
Like a deer caught in headlights, Jin stands before you, hyperventilating slightly and letting the mosquitos, just as he said, eat him alive.
"Dear?" you arch an eyebrow. "I'm your "dear" now?"
"No. You're a "deer" you misheard."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"You don't make any sense."
"No, you."
"No, you!"
"What are you five years old," you mutter underneath the nose before erupting into a teasing smile, curling a finger around a non-existent strand of hair. "So you want me all to yourself, huh? How flattering."
Jin rolls his eyes, once again swinging his arms around like some crazed caveman.
"We're going home now," he orders gruffly, turning on the heel.
"Jae's at home."
At the mention of your supposedly mutual friend, his expressions grows stormy once more and reaching backwards, he wraps his fingers around your wrist.
"Then we're going somewhere else," through gritted teeth, he pushes out, legs falling and rising, creating an angry stomp to which you titter along with.
"Oooooh, so you can have me all alone?"
He casts you a wicked glance from the corner of the eye, ultimately shrugging at the suggestion.
"Not really, I left the condom at home. But if you feel risky I'm down."
HOSEOK | After the fourth hour of being forced to listen to rock music at ear-splitting volume, Yoongi had enough and with an egregious sigh of displeasure, he rolled out of his studio and went to Hoseok's cave of misery.
Without knocking, he opened the doors, nearly crumbling from the force of the bass.
"DO YOU MIND NOT MAKING EVERYONE DEAF?!"
Very slowly as though pulled from a deep haze, Hoseok turned around, blinked for a while and only then understood the request.
"Sorry," he muttered, turning down the volume.
Yoongi examined him before letting out another sigh.
"If you're that worried about __________'s ex just tell them to dump the stupid reconciliation thing and return home."
"That's not what I do."
"And what do you do, Hoseok? Suffer in silence?"
The lone figure, illuminated only by the cold light of the laptop before him, didn't answer and Yoongi didn't prod any more.
"Just don't end up regretting it."
With those words reverberating through his head, Hoseok found himself running through the downtown streets, in search for even a sliver of you. A strand of hair, the corner of your jacket — anything. When at last he did, he found you happy, in the arms of another.
No.
No, he doesn't think so.
"You're so sweet," you muttered into his neck as he let himself be angry, glaring hatefully at the dark ceiling. The grip he had on both of your hips will undoubtedly leave bruises but selfishly he couldn't bring himself to care. If anything he wanted more. People couldn't be trusted, they would try and with him being away so much...why shouldn't he mark you up all nice and pretty so people who didn't deserve you wouldn't bother you...
He digs his fingers deep into the flesh.
"Wrong thing to say," Hoseok growls. "I'm really pissed off."
"What I mean is you have nothing to worry about," you defend hastily as you cup his face in your palms. Hoseok would like to say he felt so much better, that the little monster clawing on his chest would be satiated with the sacrifice but it was far from so. "I'm yours and only yours."
"Well, obviously I know that. How about we make sure others know that as well?"
JIMIN | The slam of both doors comes at a perfect time, creating a singular, decisive cannon shot of "BANG" and then there was silence. In times like these, you praised your past self in choosing the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. You doubted you could go out there - in the cold and heartless battlefield.
It was in the middle of the night, in the midst of a restless, frowning sleep that you hear the bedroom doors crack open. The left upper hinge was faulty, it creaked too much every single time. You always promised to take a look at it but in the end you never did.
Cautiously, fearing your wrathful outburst, a hand brushes over the covers and a warm weight evens the other side of the bed. He knows you're awake and he knows you know but still for a moment you pretend to sleep. An apologetic kiss is pressed against your jaw line; those two hands, now emboldened by your inaction come to rest around your form, wrapping you up like spiders did the witless flies flying into their webs.
"Why are you like this?" you ask him, not daring to give even a single glance backwards. It was always easier to speak if Jimin remained faceless. "Have I ever given you a reason to distrust me? To check me like this?"
"You know it's not yo-"
"Don't tell me "it's not you but me". That's bullshit."
"But it is me," he argues, blowing a harsh exhale of working up anger. It moves your hair and you sink tiredly into the mattress.
Two hands sneak their way underneath the covers, finding the warm flesh and then pressing it closer into him like he wants to mould you into him. Create one creature out of two.
"I'm sorry," you can hear the wistful sadness in his voice. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
"No. Not crazy. Just...lonely. Complicated."
"Complicated," Jimin echoes with a faint mutter. "Are we..."complicated"?"
"I don't know what we are."
Silence envelopes the room until at last you gather enough courage to look at him, settling on the other hip. The room is dark so it's hard to see and know for certain but you know it. Like a piece of some inherent knowledge stored in the marrow of your bones, you know the expressions marring his face. Anger — churning and acrid, loneliness — bitter and all enveloping.
Adoration — suffocating and sickening.
Yearning — stinging and all consuming.
Wish for you to live better than this, have better than these meaningless arguments spinning round and round with no reprieve — soft, selfless, devoted.
Jimin was all around a confusing man as if whoever made him didn't know how much to put into him so they poured everything into this one person and so he was everything.
"What am I supposed to do with you?" you sigh, tracing the side of his cheek. Readily he accepts the slight touch, nuzzling into it like a stray cat would after overcoming the initial fright fueled by disappointing past.
"Be gentle with me, please. Be kind."
"You were not kind."
His gaze darts downwards, embroiled in deep shame.
"I don't share. I don't want to share," spitefully, he mumbles, brows coming to knit together in a frown. "Why should I? You're mine. Only mine. Like I'm only yours."
"I don't get jealou-"
"But I want you to."
A pause. His fingers come up to lay upon your palm where he intertwines your fingers, perhaps so you couldn't escape. Not that you even considered.
"I want you to be jealous. I want you to be possessive. Just like I am. So I wouldn't feel guilty," he pulls in a shuddering breath, almost chickening out but then saying it after all. "So I would feel wanted."
"Oh, Jimin," you breathe yet another sigh but decide to not argue anymore.
TAEHYUNG | Whilst the legs clamping down on yours and preventing you from making a grandious exit of his apartment, doors slamming shut and everything, are present, a clearly discernible expression on his face is extremely lacking.
With features carved of stone, Taehyung sits on the other couch, pretending you were not even there, save for the occasional muscle flexing in his legs to keep yours locked in between his. For over an hour not a word was spoken, not a glance exchanged. Even Tannie grew fed up with the display and took his nap to the plush bed in the corner.
"This is ridiculous," you scoff, once your tailbone began to feel too numb. "My moving in was supposed to put an end to your...episodes."
He doesn't speak but you could almost swear that the vitriolic way his lips curl, he was mutely mocking your choice of words.
"It's like you're depressed."
"I am depressed," obstinately, he agrees, voice rumbling a low, irritated register.
"What for?"
"Well, I guess I just find it hard to get past the fact that the love of my life, my moon and stars," he accentuates the words with an intention you're too annoyed to grasp. "One who has agreed to be my spouse one day keeps flirting with a man clearly infatuated with them."
"Oh, for the love of god," you cry out, throwing your hands up in the air. "Yes, he has a thing for me but I shut it down. I known him since we were kids!"
"No, please, rub it in some more," theatrically, Taehyung grumbles. "Rub in the fact that we we raised different and that I lost so much time with you for no other reason than our mothers popped us out on two separate geographical locations."
"Did your mother also drop you a lot?" you hiss. "Because there has to be a clinical explanation why you're so...so...!"
"So what?" utterly calm, he cocks an eyebrow at you and you know you had swam into deep, infested waters but still you spit it out.
"So...possessive! I hate you!"
You whip around, arms crossed, determined to sulk for a year if needed.
"Hate me?" Taehyung laughs but there is no mirth to be had or reflected be it his voice, posture or gaze. "As if. You're sitting here in between my legs not forcing me away, not even trying to set yourself free because...you hate me?"
You loathe it when he's baseless and even more when he isn't.
"Would you let me go then?" you spite him but he meets your disdain in equal if not surpassing measure.
"Let you go?" he inclines his head as if the suggestion in itself is ludicrous. "No, I don't think so."
"How dare you?!"
"Perhaps I phrased it the wrong way," firmly, he stares you down. You were fairly sure there were more agreeable cliffs you could rather take on. "I mean it would be entirely pointless for me to let you go or for us to part since we both know you'll come crawling back to me and I'll be doing the same. The end result never changes so why waste our time?"
Ah, yes, the breakup. The one forbidden topic no one ever brought up. The one that whenever just mentioned made Taehyung cry and you grow red with rage. Thus you rage.
"Well do you want to repeat that? Is that what you want by acting like this?!"
But Taehyung doesn't even bat an eye.
"I understand your outrage," he states coldly. "But whatever the reason, you and I will sort out our differences and live happily ever after."
"Is this you sorting things out?!" you let your voice rise into a painful shriek, pointing heatedly at where he'd folded his legs over yours, prohibiting you from simply storming out. After a prolonged stare down, languidly he lets up, putting his hands up in a supposed defeat. Though it sure felt like a bout of attitude.
"There. You're free now. Want to run away?"
"I'm not the one who runs away."
His jaw clenches in a death grip and for a second the pain in his face, makes a person you knew best entirely unrecognizable.
"Okay, you want the truth? You want the hard, honest truth?"
"If you're even capable of that," you sneer.
"The fact is everyone in your life, including your mother has told me, to my face that I'm not worthy of you. That I'll never be right enough for you. That I'm stealing you away from your beautiful, pre-determined path of being with your childhood best friend. Of staying in your home. And seeing how hard you struggle to fit in here, I realize that I'll never be enough. I'll never be able to soothe your aches that I myself caused by bringing you here. So I shout to the world, to them, to myself, to you that you're mine because lately I'm beginning to feel like each passing moment you're slipping through the cracks of my fingers. I'm getting desperate and that's why I'm depressed. Is that so unreasonable?"
By the end of it, his chest is heaving up and down, barely gathering enough breath to power through the breakdown. You wet your dry lips, sinking listlessly into the sofa.
"Why didn't you just tell me?"
He drops his head on the backrest, lips curling downward. He really is depressed.
"Despite how I may feel about them, you still love all of these people. They're your support system, one I cannot replace. I just wanted you to be happy."
You sit on your respective ends, mulling your own thoughts. Still sulking, you touch his pinky, curious if Taehyung will accept the gesture. He doesn't look at you but immediately his own little finger wraps around yours.
JUNGKOOK | "You're a caveman!"
"Whatever."
"A chauvinist!"
"Sure."
You hit him square in the chest. It does fuck all.
"Gym rat," you mumble sullenly, begrudgingly accepting your bitter fate of being used as a pillow. It's not like you had even plans to go anywhere but finding yourself restricted because of this weirdo was completely different than just simply being lazy.
"That's not even an insult."
"I feel like a hero trapped by a creepy villain," you continue to fuss but Jungkook who has all of his limbs wrapped around you like a human cage appears mighty relaxed. His eyes are closed, there's a smirk playing on the ends of his lips, threating to burst at any given moment and at times it even seems he'll fall asleep.
"If that's what you feel."
"Jungkook, you're seconds away from going full Golumn!"
"Was he really that problematic? Or should other people mind their own business more and not interfere into the domestic lives of others? What's mine is mine. I would also hate having you be lugged away to a mountain to defeat some evil edgelord."
You cry out — defeated. With a content sigh, Jungkook can feel your body relax in his hold.
"You're impossible."
"Listen, babe, I told you I'm a lot to handle. I'm not legally liable for the consequences of your own actions."
Breathing right into his Adam's apple you curl your palms, briefly considering into pinching him. Painfully.
"You sly son of a-"
Jungkook presses a palm over your mouth with a throaty laughter.
"Let's get along with your future mother-in-law, why don't we?"
Spitefully, you lick at his palm but the only thing it causes is laughter.
"Good idea," much to your horror, he licks a bold strip along your collarbone. Your palms relax from the sheer shock of his actions as your nose crinkles in disgust at the sudden wetness alongside your flesh.
"Gross."
"Just fluids, babe," he points out and settles deeper into the covers, arms restlessly caging you in. From the very moment he first came home, pushed all his weight on top of you with an incoherent "miss you" they hadn't eased.
Still, you suppose this was some sort of progress from the temper he worked up in the earlier days. Recalling your little storm cloud and how he would thunder when threatened made you almost smile. In retrospect, it was just him being...really in love. The way he explained it, was that at times it simply overwhelmed him — this love he held for you. Hence why despite your grumbling and grousing, both you and him knew you weren't against it. It made you feel...wanted. And though you supposed someday in the future, the matter would have to be looked at by a therapist, currently you decided to sleep. His embrace was so warm after all.
And then in the border between wakefulness and sleep, there comes his soft voice, softly clinging to the background of your mind.
"You know you could kill me and I think I'd still love you," he chuckles lowly to himself, pressing a cheek against the crown of your head all the while softly swaying you both to rest. Unproblematic, gentle rest. "You're a bit terrifying in that way."
"I wouldn't do that," you deny hazily, your mouth falling open against his shirt. You always drool on it and he never complains.
"I know."
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tagging: @rmstdio; @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria' @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @jminssiii
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youmyjhope · 2 months
Note
More hoseok audios🥺🥺🥺
do not repost
this one reminds me the taehyung slow sex one with kisses and stuff 😣
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jjungkookislife · 25 days
Text
Envolver Ch. 2
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ღ pairing: namseok x f. reader
ღ genre: fwb to lovers, polyam au, smut [18+]
ღ summary: As the Western theme continues at the bar Saturday night, you find yourself just as enthralled by Namjoon and Hoseok.
ღ wc: 3.7k
ღ warnings: alcohol mention/use, flirting, exhibitionism (?) fingering (f. receiving), hair pulling, oral sex (f. and m. giving and receiving), marking (hickeys, bruises, scratches), biting, cum play, rimming, threesome, unprotected sex (vaginal and anal), degradation, praise, creampies, mention of birth control, mention of impreg kink, cum eating, multiple orgasms, double penetration
ღ mdni banner and thin banner by @benkeibear
ღ date: March 3, 2024
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Yoongi pressed you against the wall beside the front door of the home he shared with his boyfriends. 
His lips moved with yours in perfect harmony, your soft moans muffled by his tongue as it met yours. Your hands rest on his shoulders, nails digging into them when he bites your bottom lip before pulling away.
“Are you sure you have to go?” He asks one more time as your fingers lace with his. 
“I do. I need to change before tonight, and I have a few errands to run that can’t wait any longer,” you explain. 
Yoongi frowns before sighing heavily. 
“I wish you’d just move in with us,” he pouts. 
You giggle, shaking your head. “We’d never leave the bed, Yoon.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he smirks, dodging the light smack you aimed his way. 
“I’m just saying.”
“I’m just saying,” you mock, sticking your tongue out at him before turning to grab your purse off the coat rack. You make sure your phone and wallet are in there before you kiss Yoongi one more time on the lips. 
“I’ll see you tonight,” you promise as you head out the door with one last wave. 
Hoseok waits for you in his car, ready to drop you off at your apartment.  
You didn’t have any errands to run, but you knew Yoongi and your other companions wouldn’t let you leave otherwise. You didn’t mind it though, not really. 
You liked being around all of them. You had relationships with each of them just as they did with each other. The eight of you toed the line between couple and kinda, sorta, just friends. 
Who were you kidding?
You all were heading to Couple Town but we’re too scared to make the first move. Perhaps if you all sat down and had “The Talk”, you’d feel more at ease but just thinking about it made your tummy flip and not in a good way. 
Hoseok wonders what you’re thinking about so hard in the passenger seat. Your brows are furrowed and your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you stare blankly at the road ahead. 
“You’re still coming tonight?” He asks as he comes to a full stop at a red light. 
“Of course,” you answer with a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Gonna wear another pair of assless chaps?”
Hoseok cackles, shaking his head as he slowly accelerates when the light turns green. 
“Unfortunately that was a one-time thing but our outfits tonight are just as glamourous… or should I say scandalous?”
“Ooh, then I will definitely be there tonight,” you giggle as you look out the window as the familiar homes of your neighborhood appear. 
Tonight would probably be just as rowdy as the previous night, if not more due to it being Saturday night. 
You better dress to the nines to blow your almost boyfriends away.
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Music pounds in your ears the moment you step inside the building. 
Your eyes immediately roam to the bar as you push past the crowd, muttering apologies before curse words. 
Psy spots you and waves you over, giving you a side hug before waving at a server to bring you the usual. 
“Crowded tonight,” you comment as people squeeze by you and you wonder if you’re within the fire code limit. 
“This Western theme is a hit,” Psy nods as he spins around showing you his extravagant getup. This one is a burnt orange with tassels covered in brown glitter that matches his cowboy boots. “Don’t I look marvelous?”
“You do,” you agree with a genuine smile as your drink arrives. 
“I’m thinking of doing Halloween costumes for this year. Maybe have the patrons dress up and have a costume contest. What do you think?” Psy asks, genuinely wanting your input. 
“Would I get to choose the winner?” You pout and Psy rolls his eyes playfully. 
“Of course, who else?” Psy laughs as he raises his drink, clinking it with yours before he’s called away by a staff member. 
You sip your drink at the table Psy occupied and you watch as your men get on the bar. 
Fuck, you knew their outfits would be hot just like yesterday but you weren’t sure where to look. 
Namjoon was clad in a hot pink outfit with the sleeves cut off and a pink cowboy hat on his head. The buckle was sparkly as the lights reflected off it and he shook his ass in those jeans. 
Wow!
Beside him, Hoseok is in a silver outfit with the tassels moving with him. The pants cling to his delicious thighs and he uses his hat to hide his eyes, swinging his hips from side to side as the crowd screams his name. Hoseok chuckles, taking the hat off and pressing it to his chest as he and Namjoon shake their ass to the song. 
You’re not even sure what the song is about as they smile brightly, flexing their arms and shaking their hips as the song nears its end. 
“Got you drooling already, love?” Seokjin asks as he walks up behind you. 
“Uh…” you tear your eyes away from Namjoon long enough to acknowledge Seokjin, who chuckles and has you face the bar. 
Hoseok bows as the song ends and Namjoon hops off the bar to collect the tips while Hoseok makes a few drinks, flirting with a few customers who are eager to place tips in the pocket of his shirt or the back pocket of his pants. 
A little taste for the fans is what he usually says but you don’t care because all those tips are spent on you and your almost boyfriends. 
“Jin!” the server calls from the bar, waving him over to help with the growing crowd of parched customers.
“Duty calls, baby,” Seokjin kisses you hastily as he parts the crowd with his wide shoulders. You nearly drool over them, wishing you could take him to the locker room again.
You fix your skirt, adjusting your cowboy hat right after. Jungkook was beaming from behind the bar when he spotted his hat on your head. 
The seven men get onto the bar as their dance number begins. You’re not sure who to watch, Yoongi draws your attention when he winks but soon, he, Seokjin, Jungkook, and Taehyung face the liquor bottles on the wall while Hoseok, Jimin, and Namjoon face the crowd as they shake their hips and turn so their boyfriends can do the same.
Boots stomp on the bar as they continue to dance and you’re drawn to Namjoon’s pink outfit, nearly drooling at how his arms shine. He must have oiled them in between performances.
Hoseok garners your attention next as he slowly unbuttons his shirt a few buttons, smirking when he stops and the crowd goes “Awwww!”
The song winds down, everyone gets off the bar except Hoseok and Namjoon. Their boots stomp in sync as they hit their ending pose and rip their shirts open.
Buttons fly into the crowd and the men take the scraps of their shirts off, waving them in the air before they bow.
“Thank y’all!” Namjoon grins as he steps off the bar with Hoseok right behind him.
You chug your drink, using the sticky ice to rub on your neck in poor hopes of it cooling you down.
It doesn’t.
“You look like you’re about to cream your panties,” Yoongi chuckles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“Shut up,” you hiss, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Oh, Darling, I’m hurt,” he places a hand over his chest and you roll your eyes. “But I know I’m right about the panties.”
“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” you tease.
Yoongi’s gaze darkens as his arm moves to wrap around your waist. He leans in close to whisper in your ear, “Don’t fucking tempt me. I’ll have you bent over this table faster than you can blink.”
You moan, turning into his chest to hide your face.
You feel the rumble of his chest as he laughs. “Aw, poor baby is shy?”
“Shut up,” you whine into his shirt.
“Shut up this, shut up that. You’re acting like a damn brat. Is that how you talk to me?” 
“No,” you pout, thighs pressing together as Yoongi uses his body to cover you from the side as his fingers dip under your skirt, pushing your thong aside.
“Yoongi!” you gasp, hoping nobody is paying attention to the two of you. Yoongi would never allow a stranger to get a glimpse of what’s his.
“Keep being mouthy, baby, and I’ll have you gushing right where you stand,” Yoongi threatened deliciously as he rubs your clit in slow, tantalizing circles before he put his wet fingers in his mouth. 
“Well, fuck,” Seokjin states as he approaches. “Looks like I missed a show.”
“Why don’t you slide your hand under her skirt and find out,” Yoongi smirks as Seokjin laughs. 
“I would, but we’re doing our last number. Bodyguard let too many people in and we have to close for the night.” Seokjin explains with a sigh.
“Fuck, really?” Yoongi asks as he goes to Seokjin, your explicit fun is coming to an unfortunate end.
“Yeah,” Seokjin grunts. “The only reason we can finish is because the Chief’s wife begged him.”
You bust out laughing, shaking your head. “She knows a good show when she sees one.”
“Then let’s give her and the Chief a hell of a show,” Yoongi grins as he leaves with Seokjin on his trail.
You watch from your seat as Psy announces their early closing, nodding with the disappointed shouts. 
“We’ll be back tomorrow night to conclude our Western show! Thanks for coming!” Psy waves and leaves. There’s no need for him to stick around, he knows one of your boyfriends will close up.
As the men take the stage for the last time tonight, you note Hoseok and Namjoon are shirtless. You gape at them as the crowd notices them as well. 
You’re sure Namjoon’s the reason for it. This wasn’t the first time he ripped his shirt off without a backup.
Gyrating, hip thrusting, and every ungodly dance move you can imagine takes place on that sinful bar as the music pumps and the cheers of the drunk, horny crowd fill the building.
It takes almost twenty minutes for the bar to clear out and another forty for your boyfriends to finish cleaning up.
“We’ll catch up with y’all,” Namjoon says as he pours a drink for himself and Hoseok. “Gotta wash these.”
“I’ll help,” you volunteer as the men kiss you goodnight.
“Be a good girl,” Yoongi warns as he kisses your lips. “I’ll turn the cameras off at home.”
“Thank you, baby,” you kiss him one more time before he goes to Namjoon and Hoseok. The three kiss before Yoongi wraps his arm around Jimin to lead him out to the parking lot.
Once they’re gone, you approach Namjoon as he takes his shot. He downs it easily before you kiss him to get a taste.
Hoseok takes Joon’s empty shot glass to wash with his own as your hands roam over Namjoon’s broad, sweaty chest. He’s built like the man of your dreams. So buff, so big, so muscly. It makes you nearly drool all over yourself, which Namjoon seems to enjoy as his tongue weaves with yours.
Soon, you’re placed on the bar with your legs spread open with him slotted in between. 
“Damn, Joon. Leave some for me,” Hoseok teases with a smug smile as he approaches Joon’s right. 
Four hands are on your thighs and two pairs of lips are on you.
“Fuck,” you can’t think straight as Joon’s hands grip your thighs as he opens your legs further. He tugs your thong down, nearly tearing it into pieces as he removes it from your body.
Hoseok works on your shirt, pulling it over your head with your help. He does quick work of your bra, cursing and licking his lips when your tits bounce freely.
It’s not long before Namjoon is buried between your thighs, his tongue flat as he licks your wet folds. He teases your clit with his tongue, gripping your thighs in his massive hands to keep you still as Hoseok kisses you, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before kissing down your chest to take a tit in his mouth.
Their names escape your lips, body arching as one hand grips a handful of Hoseok’s hair and the other twines in Namjoon’s thick locks.
“Fuck, please,” you’re unsure of what you’re asking for but the pleasure builds inside you like a flame ready to consume every morsel of your body.
It’s Namjoon who helps you off the bar, lifting your jean skirt over your ass. 
“Fuck, look at that ass,” Namjoon murmurs more to himself than Hoseok. 
“Fuck, missed having her riding my cock.” Hoseok comments as he spanks you just to watch your cheek jiggle.
Namjoon groans as Hoseok does it again. He wants to sink his teeth into the flesh and leave his mark as a reminder every time you sit. 
Hoseok goes around the bar, climbing on. He’s nude, his erection resting heavily in his hand as he strokes himself while Namjoon finger fucks your pretty cunt open.
“Fuck my mouth, Hobi,” you plead, nearly drooling over his cock as he places the tip on your lips. 
“You know I can’t deny you, baby girl,” Hoseok groans when your tongue flicks his slit, tasting precum.
Hoseok’s torso glistens with sweat, and you’d gladly lick up every drop. In a different setting, you would kiss every inch of his body until his cock stuffs your mouth.
Namjoon grabs your ass, cursing as he makes it jiggle before his teeth sink into the meaty flesh, just to make you moan around Hoseok’s cock.
Hobi pushes further, his cock heavy on your tongue as he hits the back of your throat. Your eyes widen, filled with tears as you meet his gaze. He knows if it’s too much, you’ll tap his hand and he’ll immediately remove his thick cock from your pretty pouty lips.
This wasn’t your first threesome, much less your first time with them. You loved the thrill of being with them, getting eaten out, fucked, stuffed full of cum to show Yoongi when you crawled in his bed, just for him to fuck his cum inside you, eating you out after just to fuck you full of him again.
The moan that escapes you is obscene. You’re almost embarrassed but it spurs Namjoon on as he spreads your cheeks, his tongue circling your asshole as you melt on the bar.
Fuck, your mind is empty. 
All that matters is Namjoon’s tongue fucking your asshole while your pussy drips down your thighs and Hoseok fucks your mouth until you’re hoarse.
You gag, choking on his cock as he hits the back of your throat. You remind yourself to breathe through your nose as Hobi grabs a handful of your hair, his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly as you choke on it. You hold on as long as possible before he’s pulling out and you gasp loudly, cumming in response.
“Shit,” Namjoon chuckles. “She fucking came on my face.”
You’re too aroused to be embarrassed as Hoseok grabs you by the hair to kiss you. Namjoon strokes his long, thick cock in one hand before he lines it up at your cunt and pushes in. You gasp, allowing Hoseok to slip his tongue past your lips to deepen the kiss.
You’re on Cloud 9.
You’re not surprised your trip to the bar has ended like this, and you’re not ashamed to admit this isn’t the first or last time you’ll be bent over this bar, fucked until your legs shake.
“Oh fuck!” you exclaim when Namjoon slides home. “So fucking big.”
Namjoon doesn’t need the ego boost, but it makes his length twitch. He aims to please, he knows how to pleasure his partners. He’s experienced beyond belief and he’s willing to prove it with each gyration of his hips.
Namjoon grips your hips tighter, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he fucks you like an animal. He’s rough, groaning and moaning your name as he fucks you full of his fat cock. You nearly fall apart when Hoseok rubs your clit while marking your skin as his.
Pleasure courses through your veins, nearly overwhelming as Namjoon continues the rough thrust of his hips. You feel like you’re being split open in the best way possible as you scream Namjoon’s name repeatedly, creaming his cock as your orgasm hits.
“Fuck, you’re just a little cock-hungry slut for us, huh?” Namjoon smiles as he fucks you through your orgasm and into the next. You milk his cock, making him curse before he cums deep inside your hungry cum-hungry walls.
The fact that you weren’t pregnant yet was thanks to your kryptonite-like birth control, otherwise, you’d be fulfilling Jimin and Seokjin’s impreg kink.
Namjoon grabs your chin as you look at him over your shoulder, kissing you deeply. You nearly cum again as he pulls out of you.
Hoseok isn’t one to waste.
After all, waste none, want none, right?
Hoseok is on his knees before either of you can blink. His tongue slides easily into your cum-filled hole, sucking and slurping as heat rushes to your cheeks. 
When Hoseok is done eating you out, he moves to Namjoon. He takes Joon’s cock into his mouth, licking him clean before he rises to his feet.
“Come,” Hoseok takes your hand as he leads you to the couch in the locker room.
Hoseok wastes no time in kissing you, he has you on his lap in an instant.
Namjoon joins in, cock at half-mast as he watches eagerly.
“Ride my cock like the little slut we know you are. Can’t fucking get enough of our cocks, baby girl? Gotta have all seven of us? What a greedy little bitch,” Hoseok says with a hooded gaze.
His words send a tingle down your spine as you nod. There were no lies in his statement.
None at all.
Namjoon shakes his head with a warm smile. 
You straddle Hoseok's hips, lining up his cock at your entrance. Your hands grip his shoulders as you sink onto it. Your mouth drops open as he fills you to the brim just like Namjoon had.
“Hobi,” your voice is hoarse as you bounce on his dick. Namjoon watches intently as Hoseok’s hands grab hold of your ass.
Namjoon gets close, kissing Hoseok as you bounce that sweet ass on his lap. Hoseok is a sucker for you and will do anything you ask at a moment’s notice. All his boyfriends would. You’re their queen.
“Shit, ride my cock just like that. You love being a little whore, don’t ya? Yoongi warned us but we didn’t listen. Just a cock-hungry hoe for us.” Hoseok’s words make you clench around him, body hot like a furnace as you slam your lips on his and then Joon’s.
Your cunt throbs with pleasure, tits bouncing as you seek your next orgasm, screaming Hoseok’s name as you cream his fucking cock like the good little whore you are.
“Shit! Shit!” Hoseok gasps as he cums deep inside you, hips lifting off the couch as he shudders with the last of his orgasm.
You collapse on Hoseok, kissing him as you clench around him, milking him for all he’s worth. Hoseok whines, cursing when you rock your hips a few more times.
Namjoon chuckles as he helps you off Hoseok’s lap.
“Come here, baby,” he instructs as he pulls you toward him. He kisses you sweetly, his hands on your thighs, fingers bruising your sensitive skin.
Hoseok tosses him a bottle of lube and Namjoon squirts a generous amount on his fingers. His thumb breaches your ass first, making you cry out. It’s all for show though, you love having every hole fucked and stuffed, which is why Namjoon pays you no mind as he continues. 
“Hush, baby,” Namjoon instructs as he fucks your ass with his thumb before adding more lube and a second finger. You mewl, melting into him as he adds a third finger minutes later.
“Joon!” you whine as you feel the fat head of his cock at your opening. Namjoon is careful as he slides his lubed-up cock into your ass, gripping your hips tight as his head lolls back from the pleasure of your warm hole.
Hoseok kisses you as a distraction, his soft lips moving in sync with yours. 
Namjoon pulls you on top of him, your back pressed to his chest as Hoseok lines himself up at your wet cunt. 
“Fuck, baby. You’re always so fucking wet for us,” Hoseok groans, eyes fluttering shut as he feels the warmth of your soaking wet cunt.
“That’s it, baby. Take our cocks like the good girl you are,” Namjoon grunts as he thrusts upward. 
Both holes are stuffed full and Hoseok takes a pert nipple between his teeth, tugging just to make you scream for him.
Pleasure courses throughout your body as your spine tingles and your body quakes with each delicious thrust from both men. Euphoria engulfs you as you cream Hoseok’s cock while clenching around Namjoon’s.
“Shit!” Hoseok cries out, your warm wet cunt bringing him to orgasm. He pants, moaning your name into your neck as he comes undone inside your soaking wet pussy.
Namjoon isn’t too far behind. He curses, cock twitching as he fills your ass with his cum. He’s stuffed both holes generously tonight.
He’s out of breath as he pulls out of you.
Hoseok is a greedy bitch as he flips you onto your stomach, his tongue in your ass as he licks you clean.
Namjoon laughs as he grabs a handful of Hoseok’s hair. “Looks like the cum-hungry slut is you, huh?”
Hoseok moans in response, licking his lips before Namjoon kisses him, tasting himself on Hoseok’s tongue.
It takes ten minutes for all of you to regain your breath and your clothing.
“Let’s go cuddle at home,” Namjoon says before yawning.
“Please,” Hoseok states as he laces his fingers with yours. “Sleep with us, baby girl.”
“I will,” you assure them as your sleepy selves walk out of the bar toward Joon’s car after locking up. He drives the three of you home safely, leading you to the shower in his room where the three of you make out before climbing into bed to cuddle.
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© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.
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staytinyville · 6 months
Text
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Stay Alive (16)
BTS poly!ot7 x Reader
Magical Creatures AU
Series Masterlist
Warnings: None
A/N NOT BETA READ (I did try the best to my ability) As normally! I love all your expressions over the whole chapter. Keep them coming! I love you guys!
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You shuffled your feet along to Jungkook’s bedroom door. It has officially been four days since he’s been asleep and you spent that entire time worried about him. You weren’t exactly left with a great impression before he had been put to sleep. It wasn’t that you thought of him differently, but that he was having an episode right before and it left you with an ache in your heart.
As you entered the boy’s room, you found someone at Jungkook’s bed side, leaning over the boy.
“Hobi?” You called out when you noticed the older man hovering over Jungkook like he was about to smother the boy. 
Hoseok quickly pulled back, hands flying to his side like he had been caught. “Hello, (Y/N).” His shoulders relaxed when he noticed it was only you. “How are you today?” He asked with a small smile. 
“Could be better.” You hummed, walking closer to Jungkook’s bed. “How is he doing?” You asked, moving his blanket to make him more comfortable. 
Hobi had a smile on his face as he watched you fret over the younger boy. He knew you were worried about him–about all of them. They could all see your emotions as you always had them out in the open for anyone to see. It made their hearts ache to see you with such a frown on your face talking about Jungkook and how he hasn’t woken up yet. 
“Still the same.” Hobi sighed, taking a seat at Jungkook’s side. “I'm worried I'm not trying my best.”
You suddenly frowned, taking a seat as the bedside chair. “Why would you need to be? You're not a doctor.” You told him. 
“No I guess not.” Hobi sighed. “I care deeply for all of them. Seeing Jungkook like this makes me feel like I failed to protect him.”
You quickly got up when you noticed his lips tremble, moving to stand in front of him. Your hands were quick to place themselves on his cheeks, making him look up at you. You had a kind smile on his face. It made his heart race just looking at your eyes sparkled with kindness he had never seen in such a long time. 
“You don't have to protect him.” You told him softly. “It's not your job to. I'm sure he appreciates you so much. He spoke so highly of you. Of all of you really.”
Hobi gave you a smile, knowing you had no idea about how much it meant to all of them to protect each other. They all knew they didn’t need the protection, each of them had the capabilities of taking care of themselves. But just like you they still worried about one another. They were all meant to be there for each other when they needed it most. 
“Jungkook is the youngest, I can understand why he would think that.” Hoseok told you softly. 
“I'm sure whatever it is you're doing he loves you no matter what.” Your smile grew thinking about all of them. 
The way they all laughed and talked with each other made you cry. It was such a wonderful thing to watch their friendship in real time. They had spent so much time together they had learned how to be harmonious with each other to the point it looked like they were soulmates. Like the universe intended for all of them to be together no matter what. 
“Thanks, (Y/N).” Hobi slowly stood up, hands moving up to grip yours that were on his cheeks. 
He held them delicately, kissing your palms lightly before dropping them down. 
You blushed at his gesture. “Of course.” You giggled. 
“Hobi!” Someone walked into Jungkook’s room. “Can you help me with something real quick?” Namjoon stood at the doorway, giving you a quick smile in greeting. 
“Coming.” Hoseok spoke up. “I'll see you.” He allowed his fingers to graze your cheek before he moved to follow after the taller man. 
You sighed to yourself when the door clicked shut softly, turning back towards Jungkook. You took a seat next to him, allowing your fingers to move his hair from his forehead. “Why won't you wake up?” Your lips began to pout.
You shut them tightly, feeling them starting to tremble as your emotions flow. “Please, I want you to wake up.” You softly cried. “I can't stand to see you like this.” You sniffled as your eyes began to hurt from the tears forming. 
You quickly began to rub at your eyes, not wanting to cry more than you already do. As you moved to rub your cheeks, you caught sight of the book laying open on the nightstand. You first thought it belonged to Hobi, the boy probably spending his time in the room reading to Jungkook. It was a sweet thing to do for him. Maybe you would start doing the same thing. 
However as you got up to see what book it was, the page it had been open to caught your attention. “Sleeping spell?” You caught sight of the neat handwriting at the top of the page. 
Taking a closer look at it you noticed it was more of a leather bound journal. Whoever wrote inside of it was meticulous with their work and knew how to use stationery. You would’ve obsessed over it had it not been for the next couple of words you continued reading. 
-fragile state of mind can affect the way a sleeping spell takes a hold of a person. Jungkook has yet to wake up after I put him to sleep during the full moon. 
You suddenly took a seat on the bed again, mindful of not disturbing Jungkook. You brought the book down to your lap as you continued your reading. 
He had become rabid after seeing an ogre man-handle (Y/N). His wolf took full control which left me to deal with his altered personality. I tried to create a reverse binding but have yet to find something to break it. 
You frown to yourself as you become increasingly confused. This was for sure someone’s journal–there were dates for certain entries. However the things that called to your attention were the things the person mentioned. An ogre had apparently been the one to man-handle you and his wolf? What on earth was this person possibly on?
You glanced at Jungkook, frowning as you contemplated reading more. You gave into your curiosity and flipped a couple pages back in the journal. 
Namjoon's healing process seems to be slowing down. I think it has to do with how much scales he's been losing. I don't know much about his species but I'm sure someone would if I was back home. 
Scales? Were they talking about Namjoon’s skin lesions? But what did they mean by scales? They had mentioned something about his species. Was he not human? You flipped to another entry. 
They seem to be using the water stick to Jimin's skin in the medicine they are making. This causes him to dry out and not have a hold on his surroundings in the water like he normally does. 
Jimin was always in the water but is it normal to dry yourself after coming out of it? He couldn’t possibly be going around all wet. And medicine? Who’s making medicine out of something stuck to someone’s skin. 
Your shoulders dropped as you suddenly remembered where it was you worked. You quickly looked down at Jungkook, frowning at the thought of how they take his spit for testing. You didn’t want to stop reading.
Seokjin looks like he's aging sometimes. I'm scared they're taking too much of his DNA. His kind shouldn't be aging at this point in his life. 
His kind. He was as human as the next person you came across. Minus his pointed ears, but he told you he had gotten some surgery done for them. Was there a possibility of it being a lie?
Yoongi is often tired from how little they feed him weekly. One cup of blood a week is not enough with how much venom they take from him monthly. 
You felt vile rise up in your throat as you were brought back to yesterday when you had brought Yoongi his food. It was red in color and heavy enough to mean it was some thick liquid. He told you it was a cherry smoothie. Taehyung had burst into the room talking about wanting some of his blood before he cut himself off after seeing you. 
Did he feed Taehyung his blood?
I haven't heard much but I hear they are keeping Taehyung's wing-
The door clicked open which caused your eyes to go wide. You quickly shut the book and placed it back on the nightstand just as Jin looked up at the same time. 
“(Y/N)?” Jin frowned looking between you and the book. He was carrying a tray of something, the styrofoam plate a give away. 
“Jin?” You stood up, making your way over to him. “What's that?” You asked him, trying to show you hadn’t been snooping. 
“I brought Kookie some meat.” Jin gestured to the plate. “Maybe that will bring him out of his sleep. The boy can smell it a mile away.”
You laughed, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, I guess so.” You glanced up at Jin, eyes falling onto his ears hidden behind his fluffy hair. 
His dark hair covered up his ears completely but if you looked close enough you could see the pointed shell peeking from between his strands. You swallowed spit to clear your dry throat as you thought back to the entry in the journal about Jin’s aging process. 
“Everything okay?” The boy asked you when he saw your eye glass over in thought. 
You were brought out of your stupor, giving him a smile to assure him. “Yeah.” You nodded to yourself. “Everything’s perfect.”
Were they really not human?
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IT WAS A STRUGGLE TO NOT TELL YOU ALL!! I will be giving out the mood boards now! I loved how you guys all thought about what each of the boys were. I want to feel that kind of things too but I knew who they were lmao. The anticipation! I loved your guesses. I would love to talk more about their creatures if you guys want. Don't be afraid to ask me! I feel this still didn't give out much to some of them But I'm positive you guys got it! TELL ME YOUR GUESSES NOW!
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@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @shadowyjellyfishfest , @forestsquirrel , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop ,
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