#bts j hope x reader

[seokjinsonlyone]

this how i think bts would be if they was your husband

namjoon:

you’d have your own rooftop garden together; like he’d get someone to get it setup architecturally the way he has it envisioned in his head and to give like advice on the types of plants that are good for this set up but y’all would do all the seeding and watering and weed pulling yourselves

evening walks together around sunset through the park or around the river hand in hand where you just soak up nature and talk about any and everything

you both like the idea of having a pet but know that you're too busy to keep one regularly so you end up getting fish; he gets a cute little 20 gallon tank and like five fish but he actually does a lot of research on which fish live the best together, which food and treats they like best, the best plants and knick knacks to put inside, how to clean it, etc.; all in all takes the whole situation way more seriously than you'd thought he would; it was supposed to be sumn light for the summer time but you'd think he's filming an episode of tanked for all the time and effort he pours into it

sits side by side with you rubbing circles into your lower back whenever you need to rant about something

loves it when you get desperate for him so sometimes around the time you're ovulating he teases you; will walk around the house in nothing but his briefs with his glasses on talking in his deep voice; will invade your space like if you're in the kitchen making food or something he's gonna come up behind you and wrap that strong arm around your middle kissing up on you asking meaningless questions about what you're doing until you finally snap and drag him to the bedroom

consistently opens every door for you and pulls out your chair at restaurants even if it's five, ten years down the line

the type to never know where anything is; it's not even that you switch things up a lot it's just that he never forgot the muscle memory of where things were when he lived alone; so he's constantly calling out to you asking where something is; half the time what he looking for be in very obvious locations but his mind is just so all over the place that he overlooks it

uses you as his sounding board when he has a situation he needs handled; will just sit there and think out loud to you for minutes and hours; you don't even be saying that much really like occasionally he'll ask what you think but he appreciates having a listening ear more than anything and you're happy to be there for him even if his incessant rambling makes you wanna strangle yourself sometimes

would learn to help you take out your box braids; it makes you nervous when he first offers to help because he can be a bit rough sometimes but he's oddly gentle and diligent with the task; once he's gotten good with that you convince him to wash your hair too; and take down/wash day is less dreadful because of it

you two become a package deal; like it could be a boys night or a girl's night and you're always gonna try to bring the other with and most of the time y'alls friends don't mind like you're one of the boys and he's one of the girls so it's fine; even if he like invites some friends over the house and you stay in the room to give them some space at some point he's gonna go and check up on you; you'll just be laying in bed on your laptop or phone, watching tv or something and he's gonna lay beside you and ask what you doing make sure you're okay next thing you know 30 minutes gon go by and you'll have to remind him that he has guests over; then he's gonna convince you to come out with him and stay tucked up under his arm until his friends leave or pass out

seokjin:

draws you a bath when he knows you’ve had a long day; it’d be really nice too; he'd light your favorite candle and set it on the counter; add a fragrant moisturizing bath bomb and sprinkle in some flower petals; once you settle in he'll put down one of them over the tub trays and hand you a glass of wine and your laptop so you can watch whatever you want or stream music while you’re in the tub

loves referring to you as 'his wife'; like y'all will be with a group of your friends that knew you from the get go and they'll ask him where he got his jacket from and he'll be like "oh my wife bought it for me" and they'll be like "🥴 boi we knew her long before she was ever worried about you just say her name" aksksksk

every couple months y’all will go on cooking dates with his celebrity chef friends and their wives; which is basically them in the kitchen being loud cooking a meal he specifically chose for you and you and the wife not too far away watching them while being wined and dined

not particularly handy but he feels like as a man there’s just certain things he should be able to do; so if your sink is leaking or there’s a problem with your car battery or something he’s gonna hop on youtube and figure out how to solve it first; calls an actual repairman to deal with it if he can’t fix it without being moderately inconvenienced

insists on getting a pool installed even tho you tell him you would barely use it bc you hate having to redo your hair more than you like to swim; you actually do end up using it all the time bc he orders one of those giant canopy floats and y'all just lay up there and take naps or talk; the whole outdoor area is actually bomb tbh like there's an entire sheltered outdoor kitchen and grill patio area with fans on the ceiling for when it gets hot and a fully loaded bar; y'all honestly spend more time outside during the summer than inside and get scolded for not entertaining people more often

if you reeeaaalllyyy want him to go shopping with you he will but he’d rather just give you his card and you gather up some of your girls and y’all can go nuts together

tries to butter you up when he knows he's in trouble but it's never with anything good like he'll stop at the convenience store on the way home and pick up some things to try to sway you; he get home and you're waiting for him slightly ticked off and he's like "i know you're mad but look at what i got you and it's a cosmic brownie, sour gummy worms (his favorite candy mind you), some wet wipes, and an arizona tea

official driver of the relationship; lets you be the passenger princess of your dreams like whenever you need to get from point a to point b he’s getting you there all you gotta do is sit down and look pretty (and play decent music while he’s driving)

even if you’re not a certified Gamer Girl™️ when there’s like a new mario game or something along those lines that doesn’t require a ton of skill and know how to play you’ll no life it together; like will straight up play for like 16 hours a day until you beat it; you still force him to eat and shower however but you’re not allowed to touch the controller until he returns bc he’d be afraid you’ll lose all your lives

the type to get super close with your family; like you look over one day and see yo mama calling him and you listen to him and they're literally just catching up???; he goes out on bros days with your dad and brothers; all your cousins follow him on instagram and be sending him memes; and you just sit there tryna figure out how he singlehandedly replaced you in your family bc they be treating him better than they treat you

yoongi:

after hearing you talk about wanting a detached claw foot jacuzzi tub for the 1000th time he decides to just go ahead and get your dream house built from the ground up; gives his input in every step of the process since he has so many opinions on architecture, furniture, finishes, and overall aesthetics; sometimes there’s little disagreements when your design styles clash but in the end he makes sure that you definitely get everything you’ve ever wanted included

warms your car up for you in the morning during winter months; unimportant but i just know he would go out in a sweatshirt and some slides like barefoot toes out in 20° weather shuffling out to make sure your car is nice and cozy and the frost is off the windshield

every now and again you’ll just be chilling at home and then he’ll be like “yah go get dressed we’re going out” and then he’ll genuinely take you on one of the best dates ever; it may not be over the top every time but somehow it’s always exactly what you needed; acts nonchalant about it when you’re gushing over how great of a time you’re having; “ah it’s nothing” but he’s secretly super self satisfied bc he knows he’s killing it

sometimes he’ll be sprawled out on the couch watching basketball and you’ll be tryna tell him something but he’s so engrossed that he won’t hear a word you say so you gotta throw a pillow at him to get his attention

untangles your necklaces for you; sweeps the hair from the back of your neck and clasps it together once he's got it free

likes leaning on your shoulder when you’re in bed on the computer; not really nosy about what it is that you’re doing whether it’s work or whatever but just likes to listen to the sound of your typing as his own personal asmr; also loves it when you get your nails done like will happily pay for a new set every other week because of the tippity tapping that accompanies everything you do

sets up a joint bank account for you two like immediately bc he doesn't have anything to hide and what's his is yours; but also sets you up a separate savings account that he funnels money into biweekly bc he wants you to be okay always even if one day it has to be without him

if you're both up late and you're feeling peckish he'll whip up a quick late night snack for y'all to munch on

never really comments when your hormones throw your body system out of wack; like if you randomly had night sweats for a couple days and sweat through your clothes and blanket he'd just nudge you awake so you can dry off and turn the ac on

is extra physically affectionate whenever you start getting irritated even if he’s the source of your irritation; will grab your hand and pull you into him planting kisses on top of your head and rubbing up and down your back until you’re sufficiently pacified

hoseok:

all his numeric passcodes are related to you; like it’s either your birthday or your anniversary, the day y’all met, first date, etc.

sometimes he likes to sit on the toilet when you're in the shower and talk to you; will periodically poke his head in to check your progress depending on how long you're in there; ooos and aahs and waggles his eyebrows every time he does so

some people think you’re some kind of dictator bc his response to every proposal he receives is “let me check with my wife first”; you’re not tho he just likes running things by you bc he’s only ever okay if y’all are on the same page; sometimes you really are his scapegoat if he doesn’t wanna do something tho and you’re fine with being his excuse! you love spending time with your man!!

y’all draw lots over who has to kill the bugs in the house; he tries his best to overcome his fear for you he really does but sometimes he look at the bug and the bug look at him and his heart can’t take it; generally tho there’s less fear of y’all conquer it together

at least once a month he books a couples spa day appointment for you two; deep tissue massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, the works like you just get absolutely spoiled; his motto is that if you feel good and look good then you can be good and be good to each other; unrelated but he get a kick out of eating the cucumbers that are supposed to help soothe around your eyes

you get so used to the sound effects he makes all the time that when he’s not around you have to have some kind of background sounds whether it’s music or white noise just something to fill the air.

you both like plushies, funko pops, action figures and all that so there's a dedicated toy room in your home; all the toys that you actually care about are placed higher up and in cases to keep in good condition but things that you don't mind having some use are accessible; the whole room is carpeted and there are some fluffy rugs too; there's a 65 inch tv on one wall and a computer area for gaming as well; the whole room is illuminated via led lights; needless to say all the kids you know love when y'all babysit them; they stay in that one room the entire time except when they want a snack bc there's no eating in the toy room; jungkook also loves to randomly come and hangout in the toy room by himself

wouldn't tolerate any kind of disrespect toward you; say you went out to a restaurant and the server was being rude to you, he'd clock it so fast he'd be talking to a manager having your server swapped out and dessert on the house before you even realized what they said

y'all try new hobbies together; it's never anything you have experience or are good at which makes it even more fun as you're doing it; like you'll get one of those woobles crochet kits and spend like a month trying to figure it out in your free time and make whatever little creature you bought

never actually stops dating you; will still have an active folder with activities and restaurants he wants the both of you to go to; even if you both lack the time and energy to actually go out on a date he's lighting a candle and pulling out the fine china for you it doesn't matter that you're wearing loungewear and sitting on the floor in front of the tv; he wants you to feel special always

jimin:

intimacy between you two go crazy; you’re as close as close can be like if there were such a thing as soulmates you two would be it; you’re consistently trapped within your own bubble and even if you’re out and about it’s still almost as if no one else existed; like say y’all went out to a club music is thumping people are everywhere it’s a generally Loud environment if you softly called his name from beside him he would turn to you immediately; or someone could brush past him and it’d be whatever but if you ghosted your hand up his arm he would get goosebumps; you’re just insanely in tuned to each other

would love if you had a softer build bc he likes the way you feel like heaven when he lays on you; also he just likes squeezing at your squishy bits; he finds it equal parts amusing and satisfying; like he'll squeeze at your boob when you're half asleep in bed just to annoy you; you'll be turned on your side and his arm will be slung across your waist and he'll just inch his hand up until he reaches your boob and squeezes; giggles evilly every time you smack his hand away and won't stop until you're whining and kicking at him to leave you alone and let you sleep

sometimes you’ll build a giant fort in the living room when he’s getting overwhelmed by life complete with fairy lights strung up overhead and pillows and more blankets covering the floor to make it extra comfy; you spend all day together in there playing games and talking nonsense and eating snacks and end the night cuddled up his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck watching movies until you’re sure his head is free from all his worries

loves to be fed, literally; like when dinner time comes he will make one big plate and pull up with a fork and a knife and a waiting attitude; if you don't play along immediately he's gonna put his hands over yours and make you feed him bites until you take over; likes to feed you as well; just always sharing his food with you and expects you to do the same

he gets obsessive when you don't answer his calls; like if he knows you're not busy and he calls you and you don't answer it drives him up a wall and he will spam you with texts and at least a dozen more calls until you pick up; not even because he has anything urgent to tell you he just always craves your attention; bonus: ends every conversation by saying i love you like you could be on the phone for 15 seconds just confirming something really quickly and he's gonna make sure he's told you he loves you before you click end call

doesn’t say anything when he finds you crying just pulls you into him and lets you get it all out; once you start calming down a bit he’ll pull back slightly, gently cupping your face in his hands and swipe away all your tears; only when he’s sure the tears have come to a complete stop does he softly ask “what’s going on?”

still gets shy and flustered around you; it doesn’t stop him from being himself around you whatsoever but it’s very obvious when you have the upper hand in a situation

you can't just tell him you need an item from the store bc half the time he'll go and come back with the wrong thing; you gotta send him a picture of it and that don't even work all the time; most of his solo ventures to the store at your request end in him facetimeing you bc he swears up and down they don't have what you asked for but then you end up finding it for him and you not even there

knows you admire his art skills so he leaves little doodles on post it notes around the house; is really proud when you display the ones you find really cute in your phone case

the type to put his life in your hands; when y'all go out to eat he tells you to order for him bc "you know what i like"; will let you dress him/style his hair however bc "you know what looks good on me"; he just literally trusts and defers to your judgement as much as possible

taehyung:

the type to tighten all the jars when you’re upset with him so you’re forced to ask him for help and talk to him anyway

would try to set up a really romantic dinner for you complete with rose petals and candles and champagne on ice but he'd be so focused on creating the right ambience that he forgets to order the food and one thing bout tae is he ain't a chef and even if he was he wouldn't have enough time before you showed up so you'd end up having a pb&j and cup noodles

sometimes if he has a lot of energy but you’re asleep he’ll poke at you until you’re awake and then he’ll ask if you’re asleep and when you say yes he’ll keep messing with you until he’s able to drag you out to play with him

knows how to tie a tie but claims it looks better when you tie it so whenever he wears a suit he gets you to finish off his look; really he just likes to be manhandled by you and the grip you have around his neck does something for him

if you get him riled up in the morning he just lives there all day; partially aware of what's going on around him but undoubtedly distracted, thinking about you, wanting you; hands and eyes are glued to the phone at all times hoping you'll message him or something even if it is just you teasing him some more; he's putty in your hands and he knows it but when the day is over and y'all are both home you're his

you have to come to major compromises when it comes to decorations; like you let him have his accent wall that he puts his paintings of his basquiat-esque faces but the weird cyber bug and person shark statues and the butt chair have to go

you do majority of the cooking so he takes dish duty very seriously; will swat you away if you try to help most times; however there’s a special place in his heart for the times you ignore him and help anyway by drying the dishes and it’s you him and some music playing and you’re singing and dancing around the kitchen together

there's a legitimate argument about your use of a body pillow; he genuinely gets offended bc is he not enough for you? why can't you just cuddle him? why would you go and put the great wall of china in between you two? what's with the distance? was he too much for you? like the situation blows completely out of proportion for no reason skslklsks the argument ends when you force him to cuddle it and he instantly understands the hype behind it; that doesn't curb his jealousy towards the object however and you're only allowed to use it when he's not in bed with you

a whiny baby when he's sick; you'd think he had tuberculosis in the 12th century instead of a common cold the way he be acting; a piece of tissue stuck in his nose, piled under three blankets, shivering every five minutes on cue; you give him a good day of dealing with the dramatics after that you leave him in the room with a bottle of dayquil and a packet of vitamin c until he decides to get on with his life like a normal human being

loves planning weekend getaways for the two of you; like every other month you guys are out of town for like 3-4 days in the spirit of “rekindling”; he always rents a really nice and cozy cabin type joint and most of the trips are spent just enjoying each others company and the scenery, walking around the town latched onto his arm and eating good food; you come back from each outing refreshed and more in love than you already were

jungkook:

every sunday he checks your car to make sure it has a full tank and if it doesn’t he fills it up for you

you two have separate rooms bc you both like to have space to just exist as an individual from time to time (also it’s really nice to have a place to storm away to when you’re in a fight) but you end up cuddled up next to each other every night anyway

has a very strict laundry schedule and routine; gets annoyed if you don't do it how he likes when he's unable to

watches you while you’re getting ready; he’ll be sitting at the edge of the bed while you walk around from your closet to the dressers circling the room trying to find something to wear; you’ll be having a conversation with him the whole time and after you walk past him for the 4th time his clinginess gets the best of him and he catches you by the waist before you can fully bypass him; he pulls you in between his legs and just hugs you to him for a few moments while you run your hands through his hair

follows you around the house with his mic serenading you like three times a week

comes behind you when you’re cooking or washing dishes or something and just pats at your butt for a while and by a while i mean he won’t stop until you elbow him and threaten to cut his hands off; he just laughs and gets one more grope in before backing off

traces the contours of your face and murmurs all kinds of cute and lovely and cheesy stuff about you when you’re both in bed and he thinks you’re sleep

if you made him a good meal you’d hear about it constantly for the next week; like every other sentence is a “seriously, it was so good” and he won’t stop until you make it again; sometimes he’ll try making it himself to see if he could do better but it always tastes best coming from you

an absolute menace in the grocery store; will spend the first 15-20 minutes behaving as he grabs whatever he needs personally and once that's done he's acting a fool; doing that thing that kids do when they use the cart as a skateboard like push off on it and then hop on to ride out the wave; grabbing all kinds of junk that neither of you need; touching everything even when he has no intention of buying it; you have to grab his ear and threaten him with celibacy to get him to calm down

whenever you’re sitting next to each other could be on the couch out at dinner in bed etc he likes to play with your hand and fiddle with your ring; will often slide it off and try to fit the ring on his fingers; then he’ll put it back on and kiss your fingertips for safekeeping

a/n: i worked on this for months and months and now it’s finally here lemme know what u thought 😩🙏

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #rm fic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #suga x reader #suga fanfic #j hope x reader #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

[tryingtoremembermyname]

min yoongi the man that you are

i think neutral pretty is my favourite… what about you guys??

(i know chaotic hot is an edit but he just looked too hot for me not to add it)

other members :

hoseok

jungkook

taehyung

namjoon

seokjin

jimin

#aesthetic #bts #bangtan #min yoongi #suga #agustd #yoongi #yoongi x reader #namjoon #seokjin #jimin #jungkook #taehyung #hoseok #j hope #x reader #imagine #fluff #angst #moodboard #kpop edits #edit #ot7 #ot7 x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n

[xjoonchildx]

kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away

banner by the amazing @kth1 💕

⚜️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. smut warnings in effect.

⚜️word count: 10.2K

⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.

thank you guys so, so much 💕

previous chapter masterlist

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it

– “Wait for It”

Hamilton, An American Musical 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.

You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap. 

“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”

Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”

There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.

“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.

It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames. 

But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.

So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet. 

But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.

You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand. 

Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.

“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”

You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.

“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”

You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.

So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.

Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”

“Has he asked for me?”

Hyeri blinks. “The King?”

“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”

The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”

“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”

You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”

“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.

You ignore it.

Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.

“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”

You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on. 

“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”

You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.

“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”

You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.

You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.

And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool. 

When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances. 

He’d finished you. 

“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”

Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white. 

“Your Grace?”

You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.

“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”

Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.

Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters. 

Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first snow of the season arrives early.

You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.

In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts. 

“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”

“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”

“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”

“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.

“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.” 

You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.

You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.

“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.

They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.

You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face. 

So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.

Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”

“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side. 

“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”

The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.

“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”

The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way. 

“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”

You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.

“Your Grace.” 

The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”

What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once. 

You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”

The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”

You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire. 

As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth. 

She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.

She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.

“Hyeri?”

The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her.  She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth. 

Is she trembling?

“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”

Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.

“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for. 

You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.” 

She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.

“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.” 

The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles. 

“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”

Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.

“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”

It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.

“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”

Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger. 

“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”

Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri. 

But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”

You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers? 

The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”

“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours. 

“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”

“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her. 

“What were you reading tonight?”

Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.

“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”

“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks. 

“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”

It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman. 

“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.

“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”

“You must miss him,” you say gently.

“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.

Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.

“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “

Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”

Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.

“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”

Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.

When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face. 

And in the next, it has a name.

“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”

You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.

“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.

But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she? 

“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.

“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice. 

Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”

Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear? 

“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”

“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”

“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “

You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.

“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.

“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes. 

“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”

Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.

“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”  

Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.

“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”

And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.

With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.

But the situation is far weightier than that. 

You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it. 

You’ll not allow him to devastate you again. 

“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”

“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”

“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”

Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”

He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.

“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”

Every muscle in your body pulls tight.

“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”

The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark. 

The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike. 

“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”

He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.

“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”

Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”

“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.

“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”

You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel. 

“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.” 

There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.

“My Lord, I – “

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”

“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.

“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.

“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. 

“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”

He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.

But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.

“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.

“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire. 

You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.

Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed. 

When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.

“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”

“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”

Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.

“Can I touch you?” 

“Please,” he groans.

And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.

“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”

“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”

“Of course.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.

“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.

He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.

“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.” 

The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”

You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown. 

You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover. 

“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”

You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone. 

You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.

“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.

“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”

Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him. 

Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it  finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.

“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”

There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –

You freeze.

“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”

He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.

“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.

“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”

He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.

“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”

And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance. 

And at once, you see stars.

“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.

But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.

And then he slides one long finger into you.

You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this. 

And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.

And then it stops.

He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”

But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”

He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”

He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.

And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.

“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”

“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”

Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”

Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”

You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”

And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you. 

Bodies sealed, fates sealed.

The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation. 

You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.

Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.

But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.

You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.

Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin,  watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury. 

“What happens now, Hoseok?”

You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”

You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.

“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”

“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.

You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.

Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”

But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration. 

“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”

You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope smut #j-hope x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

Made by me

The Masterlist

CRAZY OVER YOU

[HYBRID AU]

[FINISHED]✅

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

INTRO - In the books they say

ONE - Love at first bite

TWO - Bath me with your love

THREE - Hungry for your love I

FOUR - The truth untold II

FIVE - Bitter taste, Jealousy and bites

SIX - Take Me Home

SEVEN - The last bite OUT NOW

SET ME FREE

[MAFIA AU]

On Going

Side Characters: Min Yoongi as Agust D/Mafia boss, Jung Hoseok as Jack/Concierge, Namjoon/Police detective, Jungkook/Police detective, Park Jimin/thief and gang leader, Taehyung/Mafia member FBI Mole, Paradise owner. Jin/unknown, Busan/Mafia boss.

Warnings: This story contains nsfw content (descriptive blood, gore, etc.) as well as sexual content. Mentions may include violence, consumption of alcohol, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, description of injuries, themes of major horror and also explores obsessive behaviors and codependency, robbery, killing, guns, torturing, fire, toxic yandere men, violence, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships.

SUMMARY: You made it. Now a police intern as you always promised to your father before he died, you were more than happy to finally be able to help people like he did. But the law was not what you expected to be like. You did not know how lonely it would be for a young woman to grow her career in this kingdom. Having to take care of your 18 year old brother wasn't easy too and things just got a lot worse when you've met Agust D. The king of the mafia Min. He sure knew how to make a life turn into a hell hole.

INTRO

ONE - Red Chopsticks

TWO - I’ll find you in a dark Paradise

THREE - A deal with the devil

FOUR - Welcome to my world

FIVE - Good girl gone bad COMING SOON

SIX - Dance with the devil COMING SOON

7 FINAL DESTINATION - LILITH

BREATH OF FIRE

[HYBRID GODS AU]

On Going

Side characters: Park Jimin/White fox hybrid.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, violence, sharp objects, suggestive words, smut, alcohol, killing.

Genre: Fantasy, romance, strangers to lovers, R +18.

SUMMARY: Did you know a fox only mates once in their life? For almost 400 years Min Yoongi never mated before, all theses years of emptiness and loneliness. He had tried so many times to end with his own hands. Until one night a hint of sweet and fire blows towards his nose, the smell was something he never felt before. And blood. Running for your life you felt hopeless in front of a lake, two man following you behind. Their disgusting smiles and eyes savoring your female body, you knew what they would do but you'd rather die. It all started with fire.

INTRO - Run little girl

ONE - Wood, cinnamon and honey.

TWO - Please wash away this blood on my skin

THREE - A taste of honey and dreams

FOUR - A rise from the shadows (coming soon)

FIVE - Lost in two words (coming soon)

SIX - coming soon

SEVEN - FINAL BREATH coming soon

BUNNY BUNS

[HYBRID AU]

COMING SOON

Side Characters: Yoongi/black cat hybrid, Hoseok/human, Taehyung/golden hybrid.

Warnings: Smut, violence, mentions of blood. And finally some fluff.

SUMMARY: Jungkook needed to hide. He was on the run. And what better place for a bunny hybrid to hide then a Bunny coffee shop? How could he resist? You smelled sweet and looked nice. All it took was one smile of yours and a bunny bread and he was on all fours for you.

INTRO - Bunny on the run

ONE - Bunnies don’t like water ( coming soon)

TWO - Carrot Cake 🥕(coming soon)

THREE - Bunny in the kitchen coming soon

FOUR - I’ll take care of you coming soon

FIVE - Bunny on the run coming soon

SIX - The last Bun. Coming soon.

ONE SHOTS

Coming soon

YOONGI

My Best Friends Crush

Characters: Min Yoongi/music theory Teacher, Jung Hoseok/dance teacher, Jungkook/art and design student, Jimin/danc student, reader/art student.

Genre: strangers to lovers, forbidden love?

Warnings: mentions of explicit language, sexual references(smutty material), consumption of alcohol, age difference.

Summary: “my whole life I always hated rules and protocols, growing to fin comfort on art as I could express myself unapologetically and freely. But there was one rule I made with myself; never fall in love with your friend crush.

With my rebellious nature, it was bound to be broken but I just never meet someone who would take that seriously.”

HOSEOK

JIMIN

JUNGKOOK

JIN

NAMJOON

TAEHYUNG

#bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x you #bts yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts suga #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut #jung hoseok x y/n #jung hoseok smut #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x you #jhope smut #j hope fanfic #j hope x you #jhope #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fanfic #yoongi mafia #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x y/n

[supertuna-sideblog]

🍓Pairing: Dance Teacher!Jung Hoseok x F. Reader

🍓 Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)

🍓 Word Count: 9.2k

🍓Warnings: negative self thought/talk, swearing, dirty talk, smut, kissing, heavy marking, fingering, unprotected sex, some degradation, requited pining (please let me know if I missed something)

🍓Summary: It's been a year since you started dancing at Hoseok's studio, in that time an easy friendship has bloomed between you both, and maybe a bit more on your part. But Hoseok's just a friend, and there couldn't possibly be more there, right?

🍓 Comments: From the first time I heard Hozier's Eat your young I knew I had to write something with J hope for it. So here we are! Please enjoy!

“5, 6, 7, 8–” his voice carries over the pounding bass that hums through your muscles and bones. 

But you can’t think about his voice, you can’t think about anything. Right now you’re focused on the music on the next steps Hoseok planned in the routine. Not the way the sweat-soaked shirt clings to the muscles on his back as he moves from one energetic step to the next.

Your tongue, definitely, doesn’t slip out of your lips to trace along the bottom as your eyes watch a bead of sweat slide down the column of his throat to disappear beneath the collar of his shirt. 

You’re focusing on the dance, on the way your body moves in time with the tempo, and how the riffs of the guitar send shivers down your spine when they harmonize just right with the bass. Making sure your hands stay on beat.

Shoes squeak against the polished hardwood. You risk a glance at the girl beside you. Her movements are effortless, fluid, and graceful. A bolt of jealousy heats through you, but your eyes close and you focus again on just you and the music. Hips swivel in time to the chorus. Hoseok’s voice calls out over the music, “final stretch, make it count!” 

His favorite thing, to shout in the last measures of the song, the final encouraging push that gets everyone through the last grueling set of an hour long practice, because Hoseok loves to challenge his students and this one, an intermediate class, is no exception. 

Your hips chant to the side as your eyes slide open to catch Hoseok’s last moves. Drawn to the way his hands go from fluttering in the air to caress his inner thigh.

Your breath hitches as for a second your mind stalls. Gaze memorizing the way, his lithe fingers trace along the muscle there up to the seam of his hip, where his hand cups a subtle bulge. 

Before tracing up the line of his lean body, even in baggy sweats, he looks perfect. His shirt shows just enough skin to get your heart racing, the collar loose enough it’s slipped off his shoulder, the tender flesh stretched over his collarbone tempts you.

As your hungry ogling finishes its course and meets those intense brown eyes, you pale. Fuck, you’ve been caught.

You stumble on the last turn, but catch yourself just in time to face the right direction. Kae-in snickers behind you as heat blooms across your cheeks, and to the tips of your ears.

Thankfully, though no one else has caught your blunder. But pray that Hoseok hadn’t seen it... he didn’t make a comment.

Then again, the last time he’d caught you gawking at him during practice. He’d give you a cheeky wink before cackling at your dumb-struck expression. 

The dance finishes with a quick pose. Your legs quiver for a moment, unsure if they can hold your weight. You pushed yourself today, and your body is feeling it everywhere.

Not the smartest move, considering you have your private studio session after this. Other dancers around you pant and huff, catching their own breath. The music cuts and Hoseok claps, along with everyone else.

You manage a weak clap with the others.

“Great work everyone!” 

Hoseok's voice is energetically gleeful as he wanders over to the cabinet where the audio setup sits. Like he hasn't been dancing for 8 plus hours.

His fingers move effortlessly as he turns off the music. Shoulders rise and fall as he catches his breath. The sweat clinging to his golden skin making it to glow under the fluorescent studio lights. 

“Amazing as always class, remember to practice for next week. We’ll have auditions for the spring recital and all that jazz. I hope to see all of you there!” 

Everyone takes their time packing up. A gaggle of students having rushed Hoseok to ask about audition ideas. Most of them vying for the last few minutes of class, for his undivided attention.

He’s happy to converse with all of them, girls fawning over him, a few guys in there too. Eagerly asking for advice on their movements and audition ideas.

Which he happily responds with a critique that’s just the right amount of brutal and constructive.

You make it to your bag, a slight wobble in your step, manage a painful kneel, find your water bottle, and take some healthy swigs from the plastic container. Your throat is grateful for the cooling fluid.

Kae-in is beside you in a second, her hoodie already on. She’s put on the hood but left her ears out. She has that look on her face that tells you she saw the entire last measure debacle. Her eyes crinkled in a shit-eating grin as she grabbed her things to leave. 

“So wanna go over your little stumble in the last steps?”

You level a glare at her, half tempted to throw your sweat-rag at her, but you resist. Rather, rubbing it along your neck and face, sighing softly as you dry yourself. While you loved dancing, you hated the sweat that came with it.

“I tripped, I do that all the time–” she snickers, leaning close enough that the others packing up don’t hear her. 

“I saw the way you were eating him up, not that I don’t blame you–” now the sweat-rag comes out, as you shove the offending thing at her, Kae-in lets out a squeak falling on her butt.

You glare down at her. She has the audacity to pout, like she’s the victim of this!

“I was not, I tripped, and that is all you need to know,” you respond with a mocking pout of your own.

She gets back up and hits your shoulder. You turn to continue the fight sweat-rag at the ready, but she holds up her hands in mock defeat. 

“It’s not like you're the first girl to do it, certainly not the last. I mean, look, he’s still being swarmed and I know he’s answered their questions 20 times.”

She smirks as she glances over to the far corner where Hoseok still stands with his gaggle, smiling and laughing. 

“I didn’t–” she hushes you and winks. 

“You didn’t look, I know, you’ll have plenty of time to do that in the next hour–” you clap a hand over her mouth. 

“Kae-in, I love you, but you are a pain in the ass, you know that?” 

She smiles that squinted eye smile that makes you laugh. You give her one back before standing, removing your hand from her mouth, taking another few drinks of your water before glancing at your phone. 

A couple of messages, both from…Hoseok. 

How the hell did he send the texts while dealing with all the questions? But you’re checking them before you think to stop yourself. 

I’m undecided on food, stuck between bulgogi or jajangmyeon 😛…do you have a preference? 

Also if you’ve already eaten no worries. :3 

You can’t help the small smile that lifts the corner of your mouth. 

“Ohhhh dinner and a show–” 

“Kae-in, I swear if you don’t leave I’m shoving my sweat rag in your mouth and Jin Ho can help you fish it out,” she laughs as she skips just out of your reach. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” 

She’s gone with the last few stragglers from class. The flock has left with Hobi, probably to get food. You type a quick reply. 

I will love you forever if you get me some jajangmyeon <3 

As you glance around the studio and check the windows to make sure everyone is gone your phone buzzes in response. 

If I knew getting your love was that easy I’d have offered sooner ;) 

His texts always make you laugh, and while some small, tiny, insignificant part of you hopes he’s actually flirting you know he isn’t.

He’s your teacher, and yes, you’d consider him a friend at this point. After all, you'd been coming to the studio for a little over a year. 

You’d run into him hanging a flier at the local rec center and after a short conversation, he’d handed you a neon pink flier and given you a wide heart-shaped smile before going on his way.

You’d signed up the next week for a beginners class, needing another outlet besides working out on a treadmill. 

It’d been a year, discovering a love for dancing you’d never known you had. Also…getting the last hour of the studio all to yourself for a private session didn't hurt.

Especially when Hoseok had offered it to you when you’d mentioned wanting more time to dance besides just doing group work. 

“I think you have a talent, and I think if you went out for some competitions you’d surprise yourself,” you’d almost choked on your coffee when he’d mentioned competing. He’d laughed as you coughed. 

Hoseok was kind, it was one of the many reasons you’d stayed on with dance, even after being so self conscious about everything. The way you moved for a start, in the beginning the beat just seemed out of reach.

It seemed like your brain would command your limbs to move and it would be just a step off from everyone else. You liked to joke, you had two left feet, but through Hoseok’s diligent, and patient work you’d bloomed…At least you’d like to think you have. 

The buzz of your phone pulls you from your thoughts. 

At the restaurant, jajangmyeon is gonna be a bit D:

You smile again at his use of emoticons. He texts like a teenager. But you’re quick to reply, so that you can work on your set. 

No worries, you know how long I’m here till, also I’m not leaving till I get my promised food ;)

You stand taking your water to the front of the class, the mirrored wall reflects your tired self back at you. You don’t look too long, putting your water down to go to the stereo cabinet.

Phone in hand you find the aux cord, hooking up the device the speakers connect with a loud pop. 

Getting into your music app you ponder on what to dance to first, it doesn’t take long before you’re settling on some low and slow music. The songs are just mixes, without vocals.

Just music and beats to focus on, rather than lyrics to muddle your mind, thinking about what steps would go best with them. A deep bass pounds through the amps, vibrating the room with their depths before the subtle electronic chords join the hum.  

A cooldown from Hoseok’s fast-paced, hyped music is a welcome change your muscles need. Your movements are slow and languid, letting your body stretch into each move rather than a quick jab and jolt to the next. 

You loved Hoseok’s dances.

They lit up something inside you, got your heart pumping. His dances were a mixture of a work out and sex as Kae-in loved to joke. Hoseok put everything into his routines and asked his students to do the same. 

You tried hard not to think about all your recent classes with him, in the last few sessions when he’d done an observation he’d come so close to you, watching your every movement.

No matter how many times you’d danced in front of him you felt like a beginner all over again. 

Could feel the way his eyes assessed every maneuver. How his hand was quick to correct a move. Quick to straighten your posture, his fingers lingering against the swell of your hip as he demonstrated how to move your hips in the choreo.

Your skin tingled from the touch, your cheeks warm at the thought, the wish that his fingers had stayed on your skin, that they’d moved lower. 

You attempt to shake off the thoughts, trying to focus on your dance, matching your made-up choreo to the music. Your hands start at your hips, legs spread wide as you lower into a squat.

Palms cupping your thighs as you spread them for the imaginary audience, or just a singular audience member. A quick bounce and your back up hands trail up your body again, fingers card through your sweat-soaked hair.

Pulling the strands out of the messy bun, slipping the hairband onto your wrist.

You risk a glance to your form in the mirror, again a wave of insecurity takes over. Even as you try to avoid making eye contact. Rather just watching your body move in time with the bass, a roll of your hips that follows the line of your leg to the tips of your toes. 

Your body is like water, let the music flow from it.

Another memory, when you first started dancing, and Hobi had started letting you use the last open hour of the studio.

The one-on-one time helped immensely, but also made everything so much worse. From Hobi’s unwavering attention, to his many assisting touches.

How easily he’d stop you during a session to maneuver you, how he’d demonstrate a move you just couldn’t get the hang of.

The heat from his hands all but burning through the loose clothing you wore normally to practice. How you refused to look him in the eye when he had you practice a move in the mirror. 

Just watch yourself, that will help. 

Sure you try watching yourself in the mirror–

I do it all the time. 

You’d made the mistake of looking him in the eye at that moment, in the low green light of the background LEDs they were shadowed and intense.

The way you felt pinned and devoured in that moment, the tension rose and for a moment something stirred inside of you. Your knees shook, stomach swooping, mouth going dry.

The moment broke when Hobi’s lips pulled into his signature smile that didn’t reach his eyes. But that instance had you refusing to look him in the eye for a month.

The remembered conversation heats your cheeks as you try focusing on the last steps of your sultry choreo. Twisting your arms in a spin that ripples down through your body.

Muscles tense and release, the ache from the previous rehearsal is gone. Replaced by the heat of wanting to get started on another.

The song comes to a soft close and your cool down has done nothing to lessen the heat you feel beneath the oversized t-shirt you liked to wear to practice.

As you stretch you consider the time on the wall clock, the cool down took a couple of minutes. Hobi would still be out getting food. And you really hadn’t accomplished much in your session, besides frustrating yourself further.

You huff as your body throbs, in both exhaustion and restlessness.

Like it can’t settle on one feeling over the other, and that adds to your mounting frustration. Walking over to the soundbooth you stop the next track.

Phone in hand you pause over the playlist, not really sure what to dance to next. The usual playlist for you is slow and steady. It helps loosen you up after a hard class and sets you up to relax when you get home. 

But tonight none of the songs on the playlist are calling to you, so you leave the usual and venture out into the ever changing mood of your music library. You don’t know what starts it, but there is a song you’ve had in mind for a while now. A few flicks of your thumb brings you to the album. 

Another tap and flick, and there it sits. Eat Your Young by Hozier had taken vicious root in your mind ever since you’d heard the beginning scat. The sinful chord riffs and the melodic mournful husk of Hozier’s voice had awakened something, primal, in you. 

The lyrics certainly hadn’t helped, the grit and grime to them. Hozier’s music hit all the places in your brain that you needed while dancing. And you just wanted to dance. Not focus on how you are dancing and certainly not focusing on someone else watching you dance. 

“Let’s see if you can get me out of my head,” mumbled to yourself, setting the song on loop. You pause though considering the brightness of the dance studio, intent on getting the mood for this song.

Remember Hobi mentioning that sometimes all it takes is a change in lighting for inspiration to strike. This song called for something dark, something carnal. 

Taking the remote you turn off the main lights, the fluorescent bulbs flicker off, and with another push of a button the LEDs glow to life.

Hobi was quite proud of his LEDs; he'd spent an entire weekend sticking them to every inch of the ceiling, making sure they were perfectly aligned so that the room would be filled with the glow of the multicolor lights. He’d left them on a cool blue, probably when he was setting up for class earlier. A few clicks and blue bleeds into a deep red. 

Basking in the lights for a moment, your fingers toy with the hem of your oversized shirt wanting to just throw the thing off. Overheated from class, and relief seems like it’ll only come from losing the garment.

You consider for a moment, Hobi won’t be back for a bit. You get the dancing out of your system, and the heat off of your skin. Before you can talk yourself out of it you're shucking the sweat coated fabric off. 

Your skin cries in relief as it’s exposed to the chill of the studio, in only your sports bra and loose sweats you let the music overtake you. 

You let the first bangs of the drum move you, your shoulders jolting with the bass. Rolling into a leisure sway as Hozier's voice echoes in the small studio. The bass ripples through your body, you feel your heart matching its hypnotizing beat. 

I’m starving, darling, let me put my lips to something

Let me wrap my teeth around the world

Your fingers trace the edge of your lips. You take a soft bite of your fingertip, before tracing it down your chin, throat, between your sport bra covered breasts to wrap around your abdomen where your hips sway in a lazy pattern. 

Start carving, darling, I wanna smell the dinner cooking 

Wanna feel the edge start burn

You keep more to the middle of the room, exploring the small space around you. Your legs widen their stance as you dip down from your waist dragging your clawed hands over your legs back up your body to your throat. 

Honey, I wanna race you to the table

If you hesitate the gettin’ is gone

You close your eyes, just enjoying the movement of your body and the intensity of the song. As the violins pitch higher and their notes grow frantic your breath pants as you meet their dissonant call. 

Get some

Pull up the ladder when the flood comes

Throw enough rope until their legs have swung

Seven new ways that you can eat your young

Moves become more turbulent but there is still that underlying calm and control to your dance. Hobi is about precision in his seemingly erratic movements, yours have a much less practiced feel to them, even as you lull from one move to the next.

You’re so close to losing focus, letting Hoizer’s honeyed voice wash over your mind, the tickle of his falsetto sending a shiver down your spine. So close to losing inhibition, be free of the cage that is your mind, just dancing, instead of judging and stalling.

But you stumble a move not hitting at the time you’d hoped it would, and then like a line of dominos one move then another starts to crumble your resolve.

You huff, eyes scrunching in frustration as you attempt the movement again, a simple move, you’ve done it a thousand times in class, but your muscles won’t obey and your hips feel off, like they’ve slipped out of joint for a moment. And again while your brain signals to your body to move, nothing listens. 

You growl in annoyance, sweat dripping from your scalp, drops slithering their way down your neck, pooling uncomfortably in your bra. As you miss one beat then the next and now you’re behind in the music.

Left foot forward, sway your hip, let the movement flow from your hip to your knee to your ankle. But fail again as your joints lock and refuse to flow as they once did, your fingernails dig into the palm of your hands, wanting so badly for this stupid move to hit.

For muscles to relax and just get this dance done. 

Hands settle easily on your hips, and everything halts, a soft gasp leaves you. Music fading to the background as all you can hear is a high pitched chime in your ears. Your hands come up out of reaction, nails dig into the soft flesh of his hands in a panic.

Hobi grunts softly at the sudden pain of your blunted nails in his skin. But the panic ebbs as you recognize those long fingers beneath your own. He wasn’t supposed to be back yet, you had time, your mind races.

“Come on,” his voice is soft in the shell of your ear, “you know this move.” 

Hobi’s hands are solid as they keep your hips trapped between his palms. His thumbs settle just above the band of your sweats, the heat of him sparks across sensitive flesh. He maneuvers you with ease, rolling your left hip forward and letting the right follow.

The grip of his fingers as they press into the fat sends a shock of pleasure coiling up your spine. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he mumbles again, his breath is warm as it fans over your ear, cheek and neck. Skin prickling as goosebumps rise in its wake. The smell of him overwhelms, the sweet spice of a cologne you can’t name.

You finally muster the courage to open your eyes. Glancing down at Hobi’s hands still there on your hips. The pounding of your heart fills your ears, as you look down then up. Meeting his eyes in the red glow, your breath hitches, and your gaze drops again. 

“Oh no,” like lightning, he strikes, hand leaving your hip to grasp your chin between thumb and forefinger. His grip forces your face up, body tensing as he presses himself against you.

Your hand chases his grasping at his wrist. Your fingers find purchase on the multitude of bracelets there. Fingernail catching on the beads of a bracelet you know one of his younger students made for him. 

“Hobi–”

The fabric of his t-shirt does little to defend against the heat of his body, the hard line of his chest contouring to the curves of your back. Your mind can’t ignore the way he so effortlessly molds into you. Two puzzle pieces connecting together so easily, but while your bodies contour so easily, you feel trapped beneath his steely gaze.

You refuse to look at him; you feel exposed, judged and assessed by those eyes. 

“Look at me.” 

The order is spoken low in his chest, feel the vibration of his voice against your shoulder blades. The tone makes you shiver, another bolt of warm pleasure strikes you. Warming your cheeks, and sending your mind reeling.

You follow his command slow, and unwilling, your heart beats against your ribcage, a wild indeterminable pattern. His fingers clench, digging into the soft skin of your cheeks. You wince a bit at the pain, but finally you meet his eyes again. 

In the red light they look black, taking you in, those dark eyes burning a trail from your toes up your left leg, pausing at your hip, the hand there clenching for a moment. Thumb brushing along your skin above your hip bone sending a new wave of goosebumps along your skin.

Tracing the curve of your waist, pausing at the swell of your breasts, covered by your sports bra. Up to the dip of your collarbone, you watch as he leans forward his lips so close to your skin. His breath warm before he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. 

A weak gasp leaves you as the touch of his lips sends a throb through you. A heat grows in your innards, muscles clench, breath hitching as he meets your gaze. 

“Hobi, what–”

“No hiding from me tonight.”

Mouth agape as you struggle to find your voice, Hobi smiles. It’s a slow pull of lips over teeth, the glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze. His thumb rubs along the edge of your jaw.

The touch sparking a new sensation with every stroke against your skin, his breath warm over your cheek. You’re aware of every touch, every atom of him that’s against you beside you. You’re greedy for more.

“’m not hiding,” you finally mumble and he chuckles, another warm huff of breath over your skin, his lips brush against your neck. 

“You’ve been hiding every class,” he mumbles as he presses closer, the hand on your hip sliding along the edge of your sweats, slipping from under your hand, though you don’t stop it, coming to a stop over your abdomen.

You swear your heart stops as you feel the heat of his palm just beneath your belly button. Fingertips toying at the hem of your sweats, so close to slipping beneath the fabric.

“Thinking I don’t know you’re watching my every move, where your eyes linger a bit too long.”

He chuckles into your neck the tip of his nose traces along the length of skin. His lips find your pulse and he laughs softly as you whine, distantly you catch that the song has looped. The deep bass starting again. “Not that I mind.” 

“Who wouldn’t watch you,” a breathless retort as Hobi smiles, considering you in the mirror for a moment.

His eyes shine and then his smile turns sinister, his nuzzle pauses and then he’s biting your neck. A shriek of pain leaves you and you leap from his grip. He lets you get away, though by the clench of his fingers you sense he didn’t want to let you go that easily.

The distance helps, your mind clearing as you turn backing up into the studio mirror wall. Pressing yourself against the cool surface, fingers finding the bite mark on your neck. Pulse hammering against your fingertips.

The jolt of pain ebbs into a lingering throb. One that doesn’t help the pulse between your legs. It makes you want to tense your thighs to relieve the ache there. 

Leveling a look at Hoseok trying to get your bearings. He’s quiet, those eyes shadowed by his long bangs, you see his jaw shift as he considers you. You're teetering on the edge of something. Backed up to the cliff's edge and you're not sure if you’re ready to plunge off.

“Hoseok–” 

“If you don’t want this, I’ll stop.” 

His voice is soft, beneath the croon of Hozier’s voice, for a moment he looks like the Hobi you’re used to. The one you can handle. The friend who is always eager to laugh, the one you fall into easy conversation with, the one you figured would never consider you like he is now. 

“I–” your voice hitches, confusion clouding your mind as your fingers trace the mark of his teeth in your flesh.

You lean your head back, your head meets the mirror with a soft thud, the music swells again, eyes closed as you consider for a moment what continuing this means. 

I won’t lie, if there’s something still to take

There is ground to break, whatever’s still to come

You don’t hear him move over the thrumming bass. He cages you in, his hands rest above your shoulders as he encompasses you. His breath is warm as it glides over your face. 

Your eyes flutter open and take in the man before you. The chiseled perfection that is his face, the sharp jut of his chin, the soft rounded apples of his cheeks.

His lips, usually pulled in that sweet heart-shaped smile are drawn together in a firm line as those dark eyes watch you from under the curled mess that is his bangs. He’s still in his practice outfit, the same baggy t-shirt, and even baggier sweats. They overwhelm the lithe frame that you’ve so badly wanted a chance to see. 

It makes you want to squirm away to avoid his gaze as you’ve always done, he leans down nose brushing against yours. 

“Don’t hide away from me, I’m tired of trying to make you look.” 

His voice is soft and your heart stutters. As you look at him, truly look at him. The longing in those dark eyes, the downturn of his lips. The little freckle on his cupid’s bow.  You want him, hell you’ve wanted him since the day you took the neon pink flier from his painted fingers. 

“Hoseok, I–I want you–” 

It’s like you’ve opened the floodgates, he’s dropping down lips finding yours in the dim red glow of the lights. At first the kiss is soft, like he’s worried you’ll change your mind, pull away that you spoke before you could voice what you really wanted to say.

But no, you press into the kiss. Slot your lips against his with a fervor you haven’t felt for someone in years. Your fingers thread through the curled locks of his hair, pulling him closer. 

He groans into your lips, tongue slipping out to trace the bottom, asking entrance which you easily grant. The way his tongue swirls into your mouth has you whining, knees locking as your mind thinks for a moment how that tongue would feel against your clit. Which gives a painful throb in response. 

His tongue dances with your own, easily slipping along the appendage with ease, he chuckles as your tongue chases him as he pulls back. He presses closer, body molding to yours as you press back against the mirror. 

He huffs softly into the curve of your neck, where he bit you only moments before. He chuckles and presses a kiss into the mark. 

“Sorry, heard the lyrics and, well, I couldn’t help myself–” 

Your fingers pull on his locks still trapped in their grip, the groan that leaves his chest makes you shiver. His eyes roll in their sockets as they look up at you, with his jaw dropping you whine seeing the tip of his tongue trace the path along his bottom lip. 

“Hobi, please–” 

“Please what?” He teases, his hands sliding down the mirror back to your hips where he presses you against the wall.

His thumbs sweep against the joint where hip and thigh meet. His mouth goes back to press kisses against your neck. Finding where you pulse beats and sucking another mark there. 

You feel him smile against your skin as you whine, hands leaving his hair to grasp his shoulders. To move him to do something, because your cunt is empty and aching, and only getting words as his mouth makes new marks along your collarbone and neck. You need something more than just the teasing he’s giving you. 

“Hobi–” 

“Use your words baby, I need to hear what you want.” 

His voice is a muttered groan against your throat as he kisses his way up to your ear. Taking the lobe between his teeth, he huffs a laugh as your nails dig impatiently into his shoulders. 

“Want to feel you, need to feel you–fuck,” you don’t know what you want to say, though your hips pressing into the palms of his hands are an indication that you need friction.

He sucks on the shell of your ear, nipping the cartilage and smirking when you moan softly. 

“Then be a good girl, and listen,” his voice is soft, and your eyes meet his as he pulls back. Hobi is gone, back is the Hoseok who makes every muscle in your body tremble after a hard dance practice. The one that makes you shiver. “Turn around, face the mirror.” 

He pulls back, his warmth leaving your skin makes you tremble, but you’re quick to comply. Turning and pressing yourself to the mirror, hands level with your shoulders. Your legs spread shoulder width apart. You risk a glance up in the mirror.

Hoseok stands back observing you, eyes traveling down the exposed flesh of your back, eyes lingering on the curve of your hip, that disappears into the baggy expanse of your sweats. Before they drag back up and meet your gaze in the mirror. You’re quick to look away. 

“Uh uh, no looking away tonight baby, eyes on me.” 

You know he means it, the threat is clear in his voice, and all you want is for Hobi to touch you, to do something. So with reluctance your eyes come back up, meeting his gaze even as it makes you squirm. 

“Good girl, listening so well.” 

You preen at his praise, half tempted to spread your legs wider, but you resist as he returns to press against you. His lithe body molds, again so perfectly, into the curves of your own.

His hands find purchase on your hips, slipping forward to a stop over the ties of your sweats. His index finger curls the tie around toying with the simple knot.

Your gaze is still locked with Hoseok's in the mirror, watching his lips pull into another smirk as he leans forward pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Eyes never leaving yours as your hips press back into his, feeling the weight of a bulge between the globes of your ass. He lets out a grunt, grinding himself into you.

A breathy laugh leaves him. 

“So eager, aren’t you?” 

He whispers into your ear the hand not toying with your sweats, drifts higher. Fingers trace patterns along the curve of your waist stopping to tease the edge of your sports bra. The material is thin, you can’t stop the moan that leaves you as his finger traces up the swell of your breast.

The tip of his finger finding your nipple and swirling around the bud. He groans into your neck as he feels the flesh pebble beneath his touch. His lips and teeth attack your neck and shoulder. Marking the skin with nips, and then soothing the sting with his tongue and lips. 

His hand gropes at your breast enjoying the softness of your flesh as it molds to his hand. 

“Hoseok,” your voice is soft, a needy whine as your fingers flex against the mirror surface and your eyes watch his hands. Wanting so badly for him to loosen the tie, to slip beneath the waistband and delve lower. 

“What baby?” He mumbles into your ear giving the lobe another nip which you gasp at the pain of, your hips press back and you smile as he moans into your hair the bulge growing as he toys with you. “What do you want?” 

“Please, fuck, your fingers–” your plea is silenced by another bite, this one sinking into the meat of your shoulder. A wispy whine leaves you, and Hoseok soothes the mark with another kiss. 

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.” 

Another command and you obey. 

“Need to feel your fingers on my cunt, or just fuck - in my cunt, please,” the noise he makes has your knees locking, fingers curling, nails scraping against glass.

It’s like lighting a match, his fingers yank the tie, the hem of your sweats sag, loose enough he’s able to slip under the fabric. 

He cups your mound, the moan that leaves you is guttural, your body humming with need. Gasping as he cups you through your panties. The thin fabric soaked, his finger easily toying with your clit through the cotton barrier. 

“Fuck, if I’d known you were this wet, wouldn’t have taken my time.” 

He breaths into your ear, the tip of his finger swirling in indiscernible patterns around your clit. The friction is nice, but his touches are soft, delicate.

Not what you need even as you whine and attempt to grind into his hand. The hand at your breast teases and pinches your nipple. The pleasure and pain mingle in your mind. Your eyelids flutter closed as your fingers curl against the mirror. 

“Eyes,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. Ever obedient you obey, eyes peeling open, finding his dark hazel gaze. Your innards stir, cunt clenching as you take in Hoseok’s appearance. 

His hair is disheveled, the brown locks curling around his face, the bangs sweeping over his brow, giving him a shadowed look.

Darkening his eyes, sending another throb of need through you, as his intense gaze burns every inch of you. 

His tongue flicks out every now and again wetting his bottom lip as he presses more kisses along the expanse of your shoulders. He leaves marks in his wake, the spots sting, but Hoseok is always quick to soothe them with a soft kiss or a kitten lick of his tongue.

You know you’ll be covered in his marks by the time he’s done. It makes your cunt flutter at the thought and you moan, pressing your forehead to the mirror.

You find Hoseok again, his gaze still locked onto yours. In the red glow of the lights he looks otherworldly, the shadows of his face almost black against the blood red of the highlights.

A demon you’d happily sell your soul to for nothing if only to gaze at his face a bit longer. 

You're pulled out of your musings when Hoseok’s fingers with a quick flick push aside the barrier of your panties to finally touch your clit. The soft stroke of his finger along the neglected bud has you keening. The sudden spike of pleasure makes you jolt away from the sudden onslaught.

But Hoseok’s prepared for your retreat pressing you up against the mirror, he traps your hips with his own. The hand at your breast moves to grasp at your hip, pinning you to him. Huffing a laugh into the column of your throat giving the skin there another bite. 

“No running away either,” he growls, his finger traces along the hood of your clit, before delving lower and pressing against the bud. The pleasure zaps through you, your cunt gushes, your knees quiver as you buck into his hand with another yelp of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Hoseok–” 

“Feel good?” He asks, watching his lips pull into a wicked smile as you mewl and pant against the mirror. Breath fogging over the smooth surface. The chill of it helps to alleviate some of the heat coming from both of you.

His pattern changes again, pressing again on your clit as your cunt throbs and your breath comes out in a quivering pant. 

“Yes–fuck yes, feels so good–”

Hoseok presses more against you, rutting his hips into your ass, the hard length of his shaft nestled perfectly between the globes of your ass. He pants softly into your ear nuzzling another kiss into the corner of your jaw. Groaning as you press back into him meeting his every movement. 

“Fuck baby, feel so good and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” 

You whine in reply as his fingers venture lower, the feeling of his finger slipping into your folds teasing your wet opening. He chuckles into your neck. 

“So fucking wet,” he whispers and you feel his lips sucking another mark onto your neck. Another gush of slick and Hoseok groans.

“What do you want?” 

“Please–” 

“Words, baby, I need to hear you say it.” 

“Need your fingers in me, please, please stop teasing–” 

He doesn’t wait for your plea to finish thrusting one long finger into you, your plea dies with a soft whine. He starts a slow steady pace, your cunt fluttering around his finger.

Just when you think you’re used to the first finger he adds another, your hips grind into his hand and his hips. All of his focus on fucking you open with his fingers. 

“F–fuck, so tight,” the whisper of his voice makes your cunt clench, the twitch of his cock against your ass makes you moan. Your eyes struggle to stay open, as Hoseok’s own bore into you, watching the way your jaw drops open your eyes roll back as the tip of his finger rubs just right against that spongy spot deep in your cunt again and again and again.

The heel of his palm grinds against your clit with every thrust. 

“Fuck Hoseok, fuck your fingers feel so good–” You babble, every thrust of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The one you’ve been hanging on to for the last hour.

Hoseok presses closer, feeling the way your body tenses, the way your walls tighten around his fingers, and feels the warm slick dripping down his fingers, and your thighs, soaking your sweats. 

“You gonna come, huh?” 

He rasps against your ear pressing a kiss to the shell, the sounds of his voice makes your cunt flutter again. As his fingers thrust in again, he scissors the digits, there's a hint of pain cutting through the pleasure, but it only serves to push you closer.

As you gasp, fingers scramble against the mirrored wall. You whine, pressing desperately against him, he responds in kind, rutting his clothed cock against you harder.

“I’m so close, please,” your voice is a soft mewl as your hips grind desperately into his hand. Hoseok’s voice is breathless as he speeds up his hand. The wet noise of his fingers fucking you open mingle with the song still looping, again and again. 

“Come for me,” he growls, fingers flexing into your hip, and his teeth find the meat of your shoulder again.

The sound of his command, the tension breaks, your body stills mouth dropping open in a silent cry as your body twitches. Cunt quivering around his fingers as he fucks you through your release. He groans, fingers slowing, the heel of his palm coming to rest against your oversensitive clit. 

You let out a soft whine, as his palm grinds against you, fingers curling and rubbing against your walls. You pant, coming down from your high, finding Hoseok watching you in the mirror. 

“Fuck, so pretty when you come.” 

His praise makes you embarrassed, you go to hide from him again. The hand on your hip is quick grasping your chin and keeping you pinned beneath his gaze. 

“No hiding,” his fingers flex against your neck. You shiver finding his dark gaze, those deep pits devouring you whole. As you greedily do the same.

“Hoseok,” you whisper his name, and he groans softly pressing into you. His fingers still buried in your cunt, the movement makes you gasp. Still sensitive from your first climax. “Hoseok, fuck me, need to feel you–” 

He doesn’t let you finish, his fingers turn your head enough that he’s able to press a messy kiss to the corner of your lips. You follow his lead, pressing messy, needy kisses to his lips, wanting badly to reach more of him. But he only allows so much movement from your prone position against the mirror.

You jolt as his fingers slip from you, how empty your cunt feels without them. His hand leaves your neck, slipping down your back to grasp at the hem of your sweats, the other hand still wet with your slick goes to your other hip. 

With a quick jerk your sweats and panties are pulled down, you gasp into Hoseok’s kiss as your cunt is exposed to the cool of the room. His foot slips between yours and with a soft nudge he coaxes your legs further apart.

You try to ignore that you can feel the slick clinging to your folds, and trails of it dripping down your thighs, you're still soaked and quivering for more. 

Hoseok’s hands leave you for a moment, the soft rush of fabric, and then the heat of his cock settles between your ass cheeks again. He’s big and your eyes flutter at the thought of him filling you, Hoseok chuckles against your lips. 

“What’s going on in that mind baby?” 

You whine, pressing another messy kiss into his lips, as his hands find their way back to your hips, one slipping forward and finding your clit again to trace soft patterns into the bud.

“Need your cock, fuck, need it so bad Hoseok,” you gasp into his mouth, tongue slipping out to trace along his bottom lip, his own slips out to tangle with yours. He doesn’t reply, instead he maneuvers you both.

Backing up he pulls at your hips. Your front still pressed to the mirror, this new position forces your back to bow, and your legs spread, cunt all but on display for him. 

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, a groan of appreciation as his hands wander over the curve of your ass, and his fingers toy again with your weeping folds. You whine and buck into his hands. Wanting so badly to be filled again.

Hoseok chuckles before sliding behind you again.

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel the head of his cock press between your folds. A sharp smack to your ass has you jolting, a pained grunt leaving you as your eyes snap open to glare at Hoseok, who gives you a wide smirk back.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Eyes. On. Me.” 

He gives a smack to your ass, punctuating every word, your ass cheeks sting from his strikes, soft needy whimpers leave you. Hoseok groans as he feels more slick drip onto his cock. 

“Gonna fuckin wreck you, baby,” he huffs and you nod, he presses in, the head of his cock stretches you like his fingers couldn’t.

A moan catches in your throat has he takes his time, fucking into you inch by slow inch. Feeling every quiver, throb and flutter of your cunt around him. Hoseok is panting above you as he finally bottoms out. He’s thick, his cock filling you deliciously full. 

Your eyelids flutter, but you refuse to look away, watching as Hoseok’s jaw drops, the groan that leaves him as he fucks fully into you. The delicious sensations overwhelming him for a moment as your cunt clenches around him. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck you feel so good,” he pauses, whether to let you adjust to him or to just feel you.

You don’t know, his fingers flex, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he presses himself into you.

“Fuck–wanted this for so long.”  

His mumble has you jolting, but before you can ask him what he means, his hands grasp your hips, fingertips digging into soft fat, finding purchase as he pulls out. Slow again, you both groan as the wet sounds of your coupling fill the room.

Your cunt clenches around him, needing him to fill you again. He pulls out till only the head remains inside, before fucking back in. Faster now that you're used to him. The slap of his hips against your ass echoes in the practice room. 

“Fuck, Hoseok, please, faster–need you to fuck me,” you beg him, tired of the foreplay. You need him to destroy your cunt. Need to feel that unhinged energy you’d witnessed so many times in class, been so close to tasting in the year you’d been dancing with him.

“Don’t have to tell me twice baby,” he growls, and it’s all he needs.

His grip tightens on your hips and his lips bare his teeth in a feral snarl as his hips set a fast, rough pace. 

He fucks into you with the abandon you’ve seen him dance with.

Taking his lower lip between his teeth as he thrusts hard and fast. Jolting you against the mirror, Hoseok pants and grunts with every thrust. 

“Fuck look at you,” he mutters, voice a panted growl as he fucks harder into you. The length of his cock fills you again and again. The head of his cock grinding just right against your soaked walls.

“Look so good up against the mirror creaming all over my cock, fuck knew you’d look so pretty getting fucked on my cock.” 

His words has your cunt gushing, and you answer his praise with little mewls and moans as he fucks you stupid against the mirror. His cock strokes against every part of your cunt, as he fucks you full.

The slap of his hips against your ass punctuate between lulls in the music. Your skin glows with sweat, your back arches as you press your hips back to meet his thrusts. 

Moaning, and crying as he fucks you. Hoseok answers your noises with grunts and growls of his own. Gasping when your cunt flutters around him, signaling you're close again. Hoseok wants to bring you there again, to watch your body give everything to him. 

“You close baby?” He growls between thrusts as his fingernails bite halfmoon marks into your skin. The pain only serves to pull you deeper into pleasure. 

“Yes, fuck, yes–I’m soclose–”

He leans over your form one arm wrapping around your waist, the other placing a hand above you on the mirror, and with another quick kiss to your shoulder he ups his pace. Fucking into you with a speed none of your previous partners had ever reached.

Your climax hits you suddenly, as his hips piston in and out of you, you come around his cock with a sudden broken cry. Your cunt convulsing around his cock as he fucks you through your second orgasm of the night, his hand slithers down between your legs finding your clit.

Rubbing the little bundle of nerves you keen. 

“Fuck! Hoseok!” Your body writhes attempting to get away from the sudden onslaught of pleasure as he keeps pistoning into your abused cunt. The pleasure rises again suddenly as your knees lock, and Hoseok’s cock throbs in your still pulsing cunt.

He gasps, as your cum again, sudden and blinding, white flashing before your eyes as you writhe in the prison that is his body. Warmth drips down your legs, and onto his. 

“Fuck–” Hoseok groans as his cock twitches in your cunt, the warmth of his release painting your walls. He buries himself inside of you, both of you softly moaning as you feel his come fill you. 

Your body shudders as you both remain there, your legs quivering, the only thing keeping you up at the moment is Hoseok’s solid arm around your waist. Muscles screaming for rest. Your mind rebooting as you process what the fuck just happened. 

Hoseok’s breath is warm as he remains hunched over you. His cock softening, as it weeps the last few drops of his release into you. When he pulls out you both gasp, you shiver as you feel the mixture of your releases leak from your abused cunt.

Hoseok pulls back from you.

There’s the rustle of fabric, Hoseok tucking himself back into his own sweats. You linger for a moment, your body unwilling to move just yet. Also, unwilling to look at Hoseok head on.

The sounds of his footsteps going to the cabinet. The bass of the song interrupted as he pauses your phone. He’s brought the original lights back on as the darkness behind your eyelids brightened.

You know you need to address whatever the hell just happened, but another part of you just wants to bury your head in the sand. Not think about this, maybe move to an entirely new town.

You jolt as you feel Hoseok’s hands on your sweats, pulling them up and covering you from the chill of the room. You don’t mind that your panties will be ruined…hell your sweats probably are too. 

“Come on, you gotta open your eyes at some point.” 

He speaks softly as he finishes getting your sweats back to their original position, you almost want to play dumb. You can keep your eyes closed as long as you want. But you also just want to get this over with.

Opening them you finally look at Hoseok in the mirror. 

He’s watching you, though this time not like before. Those soft hazel eyes looking at you like he’s waiting for the worst to happen.

You blink before turning around to actually look at him, he’s standing a bit back from you. Hands twisting behind him, so different from the Hoseok you’d very much just enjoyed fucking moments before. 

“Listen–” 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Hoseok shuts you up before you could even formulate a sentence. You blink at him, speaking before thinking. 

“What do you mean you’ve–” 

“Since I handed you the flier and you started coming to class.” 

He looks guilty, like he just pressured you into something, for a second your mind stalls, because you are a grown adult and you wholeheartedly consented to what just happened.

You don’t think as you step forward to press a kiss to his mouth, one he is quick in reciprocating. His hands find their way back to your hips as his tongue swirls with yours. You pull back your mind going fuzzy again. Your cunt is already wet at the thought of another round.

“I wanted to do that too, but fuck Hobi, you could have been a bit more obvious–” 

“Obvious!? I was all over you in class, my dances got a lot more risque when I knew you were watching.” 

You jolt, blinking up at him with something akin to the surprise Pikachu face. Hobi can’t stop the sudden laugh at your expression. But you’re melting into his hands as his thumbs rub circles into your hip bones. Your fingers clutch onto his arms as you blink owl-like in your confusion. 

“You…were?” 

“Oh my gosh girl,” he laughs leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours. “I was trying so hard for you to see me.” 

“Hobi I see you, you’re all I see, your dancing, your laugh…everything.” 

 Both of you standing in the middle of the dancefloor. Just ruminating on what’s been spoken. His hands are warm, as he pulls you closer nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head. Your arms wrap around his waist. 

“So…where do we go from here?” You mumble into the warmth of his chest.

He smells wonderful, the musk of his sweat mixed with the heady spice of his cologne. You would stay here forever if you could. You sense he’s about to answer, but the loud gurgle of your stomach interrupts.

The laugh that leaves both of you echoes in the dance studio. You look up and meet those hazel eyes again, as he shoots you a wide heart-shaped smile and gives you a soft peck on the forehead.

“Let’s eat first and then we can figure out the heavy stuff, though I recall you stating your undying love to me if I got you jajangmyeon.”

His smile somehow widens as you laugh, fully intent on showing him how appreciative you are for the jajangmyeon, and for everything else.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #j hope x reader #j hope x you #jung hoseok smut #j hope smut #j hope #bts fanfic #j hope imagine #jung hoseok #bts x reader #jhope #j hope bts #bangtan jhope #jhope fanfic

[7brownsuga7]

Hobi boyfriend headcanon ♡

He’s literally like your best friend. You guys do everything together, it feels so natural. You can banter with him like a friend and love him like a lover.

His camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of you. He enjoys taking them, and loves to look back at them. He’ll even show you them and will laugh and watch you get embarrassed.

Random pics. Like I said his camera roll is filled with you. No matter where you are he has to stop and take pictures to capture the moment. Loads of candid and off guard pics too.

Posting you all the time with cute caption and music to go with it.

Doesn’t like to colour coordinate but likes to kind of match. Like not those cringy couple outfits, but he likes to coordinate his outfits with yours.

Very touchy feely. He loves having his hands on you and giving you little kisses. Hugs, hand holding, thigh gripping all of that.

Loves hearing about drama. You’ve got any work tea? He’s all ears. He knows about some drama? He’s telling you for sure! And if there’s any drama/tea involving you he will be on your side no matter what. “Baby that’s ridiculous you’re not in the wrong at all” (even if you are lfmao)

Pamper days! He will match his nails to yours! And will post them along with yours. He’ll definitely get your initials on them.

Cherishes little moments like playing music in the kitchen and dancing with each other.

This will be a relationship that involves dancing. Come on it’s Hobi we’re talking about! He’ll love having little silly dance battles or just getting lose and dancing around the house. He’ll also plan dates where you might dance, like bars/little gigs.

Whatever you want you get. He’ll cater to you 100% he loves buying you things and doing things for you. Whatever makes you happy.

Wants to see you succeed. Whatever your passion is he is behind 100%. He’ll help you achieve your goals and is your no.1 supporter.

He confides in you and loves talking to you about his interests and passion. And will love to introduce them to you.

#bts hobi #bts boyfriend material #hobi #bts hoseok #hoseok #hoseok scenarios #jung hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok bts #j hope bts #bts scenarios #bts #bts army #bts x reader #bts headcanons #jhope x reader #bts jhope #jhope #bangtan jhope #bts hosoek #headcanons #headcanon #bts hoesok #bts fluff #hoseok fluff #jhope fluff #hobi x reader #hobi x you #jhope x you #hoseok x you

[littlemisshyperfixation]

BTS Fic Recommendations

I'll go back and add more fics as I find them! Don't worry Hoseok biases I'll find some for you eventually. <3

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

⊹₊⋆ OT7

⊹₊⋆ Seokjin

⊹₊⋆ Yoongi

⊹₊⋆ Hoseok

⊹₊⋆ Namjoon

⊹₊⋆ Jimin

⊹₊⋆ Taehyung

⊹₊⋆ Jungkook

#bts x reader #bts fic recs #bts fluff #bts angst #bts #bts smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin #jin #jin x reader #yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga #suga x reader #j-hope #j-hope x reader #hoseok #hoseok x reader #namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #taehyung #taehyung x reader #v #v x reader #jungkook

[wildestdreamsblog]

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!

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.

#jung hoseok fic #jung hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #yandere jung hoseok #yandere j-hope #yandere hobi #bts fic #bts yandere #hobi x reader #hobi x you

[sailoryooons]

Spider Web | JHS | (m)

☾ 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 ☾ 

“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.” 

#hobi smut #hoseok smut #j hope smut #bts smut #hobi fic #hobi fanfic #hoseok fic #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #vampire hobi #bts fanfic #hoseok x you #100 drabble challenge #okay but like trying to do j hope hobi hoseok tags is wild please why must i name him thrice

[rmsrkive]

unconditionally — jung hoseok (teaser)

summary: for the past three, almost four years, it has only been you and your twins after having been abandoned by your ex-boyfriend. you expected it to remain that way for the rest of your lives until one day you accidentally run into one of his bandmates at the park

pairings: ex-boyfriend/baby daddy!hoseok x f. reader

genre: exes to lovers

warnings: none

word count: 711

taglist: lmk if you want to be added!

author's note: say hello to my first solo member fic! our beloved hoseok will be the first one to have his own fic and this will be between 3-5 chapters. i'm not sure when this fic will be uploaded but i'm currently working on the first chapter. there will be lots of angst and many of you will be angry at hobi so grab your tissues and mentally prepare yourself for a nasty relationship between oc and hobi :)

masterlist

"Y/N?" His voice was small, reminding you of Jaehee when you scolded her for doing something she wasn't supposed to.

"Hi, Jungkook."

Your voice was merely a whisper, fearing you would burst into tears if you spoke louder. You forced yourself to push down the lump that formed in your throat since you knew that you couldn't afford to break into tears with the twins in front of you. Maybe if you were alone, you would allow yourself to shed a few tears but you couldn't right now.

"Is that really you, noona?" Jungkook asked.

That damn honorific; you always found it weird being addressed as noona by other guys but it was endearing when it came from Jungkook and hearing him call you noona made you wonder if he still saw you the same way he did when he was friends.

"It really is me." You laughed, tears burning your eyes as you watched Jungkook's eyes flash with all kinds of emotions.

He crouched down in front of you, reaching his hand out to wipe the tear that fell down your face. You flinched, jerking your head away from him before he could touch you, wiping away the tear yourself. Your stomach twisted as his face dropped in hurt, gulping when he bit down on his lip and quickly retracted his hand.

"Where have you been, noona?" Jungkook asked.

"I've always been here, Kook. I just made sure to stay out of your way." You responded, uncaring how harsh the truth was.

He glanced over at the twins, who were still occupied with Bam. The Doberman had taken it upon himself to curl up on the picnic blanket, content with the way Jaehee and Jaeyoung were petting him. Jungkook smiled at the sight for a split second before it dropped as quickly as it appeared.

"Is it because of—"

"Yup."

A heavy silence fell between the two of you. You didn't want to be so rude to Jungkook after seeing him for the first time in four years but you couldn't help but be angry that he was acting as if he didn't dump you on the side of the road after your breakup with Hoseok. He had been one of the people who accused you of cheating and his mere presence was close to sending you into a fit of tears.

"Does hyung know?" Jungkook's tone was cautionary, almost as if he was afraid to ask you.

"No. He blocked me after I sent the first ultrasound pictures that the doctor gave me. He doesn't even know that I have twins." You replied blankly.

Jungkook never experienced being stabbed by someone but with your blunt words and harsh tone, he felt as if you had attempted to stab him countless times. He always knew in the back of his mind that he shouldn't expect you to be kind in the instance that he saw you again but talking to you in real-time made it hurt all the more. And he knew that he had no right to be hurt when he contributed to all of the pain you felt over the last four years since the breakup.

"Oh."

You got up onto your knees and began packing the picnic basket. Jungkook watched helplessly as you quickly placed your containers and bottles in the basket, almost as if you were rushing to get away from him. "Time to go home, say bye-bye to Bam."

Jaehee waved at Bam as you picked her up in one arm, holding the basket with the same hand. You grabbed Jaeyoung's hand, grateful that neither of the twins was putting up a fight, and instead found interest in the dandelions that had turned white.

"Y/N—"

"I have to go home, the twins need to take a nap before it's too late in the afternoon. It was nice seeing you again, Jungkook."

Without another word, you headed towards the parking lot beside the car, leaving Jungkook with no choice but to watch you disappear again. He swallowed the lump in his throat, unable to tear his eyes away even after you placed the twins in their car seats and drove out of the parking lot.

"It was nice seeing you too, noona."

#jung hoseok #jhope #j hope #bts jhope #jhope fic #hoseok fic #hoseok x reader #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts fic #unconditionally #unconditionally teaser

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 1

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. The first chapter or so there might not be a lot of Yoongi but I want the backstory to be clear. The next chapters there will be way more of him I promise! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!

You slowly stepped into the on-call room, sighing while rubbing your aching nape. The painful muscle tension was starting to turn into a headache. You sat down on the big couch and leaned your head back, instantly feeling your body loosen and sink into the soft cushions. Today was a rough day for the ER unit. The hospital was dealing with multiple trauma victims due to a horrendous bus collision. Some patients were barely banged up others unfortunately were looking like they might not make it threw the night. You were already dreading the moment you would have to talk with their family members in case the worse was to come.

The weight of the hour-less intense work and surgeries was starting to rub off on your whole body. As you were almost about to doze off, the doors slammed wide open. “What a fucking trip…” Jungkook stopped mid sentence when he saw you glare at him from under your hooded eyelids. “How many energy drinks did your pour into yourself Kook?” you said in a bit agitated tone. You were tired and running on fumes. He seemed way less strained.

The on-call room was called so for a reason. It was supposed to be a safe heaven for peace and rest. It seemed as tho people like your long time friend let those facts slip their mind. “Sorry Y/N. I did not think you were about to sleep… You looked on fire there!” scoffing a bit under your breath you mumbled “Sometimes I really doubt your capability to think at all… and yes I was lit because I had to at the moment plus I had tons of adrenaline pumping in my system. Now it’s all wearing off”. Running his tattooed hand threw the thick and shiny locks of hair he sighed in defeat. He knew your were right. At times he was way to energetic and high maintenance.

“Still good for tomorrow?” he changed the subject not wanting to get into a war of back and forth bantering. Nodding your head you hummed in agreement.

Both of you usually made plans on your days off to go out and give medical attention to those who were less fortunate. You took care of the homeless, drug addicts and poor elders that were embarrassed to seek help at the official medical institutions. Many times it was also the lack of insurance that could get very high. The two of you saw it as charity and giving back to society.

You met Jungkook at med school in the USA. He was a scholarship student that worked his way into getting the opportunity to study overseas. You were the only person at your year that was able to speak Korean due to the fact you went to Seoul during part of your high school years. So of course you were more than happy to help Kook who at times struggled with the more difficult English terms during the lectures.

Over the years you two grew close and he was the one to say you should once again go to Seoul and take up your internship there. Being an adventurous young woman the mere thought of it seemed a great idea. So here you were years later already after your internship with a secured position as one of the junior trauma surgeons and planning charity work with your friend. You already scheduled some “appointments” with your long term patients.

To be honest you preferred this type of work more than the big shot tasks at the hospital. For you medicine should focus more on helping people. The world showed you many times that if you were less fortunate or simply made some bigger mistakes in life, the cruel reality was that usually there was no way to afford medical attention and insurance. Sometimes it was also the cost of meds themselves. Those could be unbelievably high, especially when it came to rare or terminal illnesses.

You and Kookie worked with official charities that did their best to find funds for some crucial medication for the poor. Not once did you also end up saving lives of some addicts that overdosed. Usually people just let them lay on the streets and did not care to help. You could not blame them tho. The less nice areas of the city were also full of con artists and people simply did not want to risk their own lives. At times it was also the mentality of “they did it to themselves, now they need to bear the consequences”.

You were not there to judge. How could any of you know what these people went threw in life? What pushed them to “self medicate”. So you kept focused solemnly on helping those who seemed like they needed it.

You closed your eyes again trying to ignore the fact that Jungkook was rustling around with some food wrapping. “If I am to survive the last two hours of this hell shift and be of any use tomorrow I would greatly appreciate you stop making a ruckus and let me rest!” you huffed angrily, not even bothering to open your eyes. Once the room was filled with silence, a content smirk spread over your lips. At last the well deserved quiet. Sweet darkness of dreamland slowly took over your mind.

*** *** ***

Getting to your apartment after ending a difficult day at the hospital always filled you with relief. It was close to 8 p.m. Not having to work the night shift this time and having the day off tomorrow made you really happy. As you walked deeper into the hallway your nostrils got hit with a mouthwatering smell of delicious food cooking, it instantly made a smile spread on your lips. The sizzling sound coming from the kitchen meant that your fiancé was already off work as well.

He was one of the best criminal detectives in the city. You both worked hard and sometimes very long hours, but you somehow managed to keep your relationship flourishing threw all the years. Walking towards the sweet and sour smell, you saw his slim frame hovering over some pans and stirring their content. His wide slim shoulders moving under a simple black t-shirt. They matched so well with his thin waist shaping his figure into a perfect triangle.

Resting against the door frame you stared at him in awe. “Are you gonna keep looking or do you plan on saying hello?” he said in a joking tone and turned to you with a big grin that reached to his eyes. You always wondered how he could keep such a sunshine attitude while working a job full of murders, death and gore.

Pushing your back off the frame you walked to him humming and wrapping your arms around him. You rested your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his fresh scent. “Hoba… you are too good to me…” you murmured and kissed him behind the ear. The fact that after a surely long day of work for him, he was there making you both a nice late dinner made your heart squeeze.

You really appreciated having him in you life and that somehow you both were deeply involved despite having hectic and difficult careers. The saying - where there is will there is a way - always made you think of your relationship with Hoseok.

After finishing dinner and basically licking your plate clean, you turned to Hobi with a smile “I’ll take care of the dishes” you said taking the plates from the table and making your way to the kitchen. As you were about to dry off the last glass you felt slender fingers creep up your back. You turned your face a bit a small smirk twisting the side of your lips.

“I was thinking of desert…” Hoseok said in a deep voice staring straight into your eyes. “Oh yea? You want me to run down to the store and grab something?” you teased, being well aware that was not what he had in mind. The twinkling of your eyes giving away how much you were enjoying this. But your fiancé was not the type to put up with games for too long so his only response was rolling his eyes, grabbing you and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you kissed him desperately.

Lately both of you were so busy with work, you barely had the time or strength for even watching a movie together, so you excitedly welcomed the attention he was giving you. Not bothering to make it to the bedroom you ended on his lap on the couch. Your kisses were getting wild and messy. Just as you started to grind against his growing member, your breaths getting fast and uneven, you heard the loud ring of your phone.

If it were any other signal you would chose to ignore it completely, but the ring tone suggested is was Jungkook from his “special” number in case of an emergency. “Foooor fucks sake!” you growled trying to wait out the call, still kissing and moving your hips over your fiancé. If it was just a couple rings you could try and tell yourself your friend was piss ass drunk messing around.

Much to your dismay the phone kept on buzzing “I need to take this…” you said sadly looking at Hobi who was trying to even out his excited heartbeat. “It’s ok babe” he said, he knew he could not be angry about it, usually it was him being called into some crime scene. You walked away to answer the call “You better be almost dead or something close to that to have a reason for calling me at this hour!” you hissed into the speaker.

“Y/N! This is serious. A guy needs help… he can’t get into the hospital and the wounds are beyond my expertise. I am downstairs waiting for you. I really need your fucking help. I will explain everything later” his voice was shaky and full of what seemed like fear, so you stopped your ranting right away.

You quickly ran to grab your coat “I am coming down!” closing the door on your way out you told Hoseok you might have a very late night and maybe he should not wait up for you. Taking quick strides down the stairs of your apartment building you once again were thanking the universe for the most understanding man to have chosen to exist in your life.

*** *** ***

You quickly got into Kooks car throwing your medical bag onto the back seat. “I brought all my suturing stuff in case it was really that bad…” you said under your breath still a bit irked at the fact you were driving somewhere instead of getting frisky with your lover. “You will need it. Trust me…” is all your friend said.

Turing to finally look at him you saw he was pale, his hair was messy and his forehead was beaded with sweat. He was clutching the stirring wheel to the point his knuckles were white. You never saw him so nervous, not even at the hospitals ER unit.

Driving in silence for some time you finally snapped out of your trail of thoughts and realized you made it into the shady outskirts of Seoul. Even when working on your charity missions you both never made it into the really dangerous corners of the city, so you were very surprised and felt a shiver run threw your body.

You let your questioning gaze fall to Kookie, you were about to blurt out a “what the fuck man?” but before you could, he was out of the car grabbing your bag and walking to your side. Seeing your face full of questions, he opened the car door for you looking at you seriously “It’s fine… we are fine… we need to go there” he pointed towards a dark building that looked like a hangar.

Your body involuntarily shook at the sight. You immediately thought of all the crime scenes and stories Hobi shared with you from time to time when you asked him about work. But instead of listening to your panicking mind, you decided that surely Jungkook had to know what was going on and since he said it was fine it had to be, right?

You cautiously walked behind him letting him carry your bag. Usually you would always rip it out just to show what a strong and independent woman you were. Once you walked into the building you could hear the soles of your shoes clank on the hard floor. It all started to feel like some thriller movie, the type with a bad ending. The beating of your heart was so loud you could swear Kook had to hear it. The adrenalin was rushing in your system and you were starting to feel in flight mode.

Before you could panic more, an unknown voice broke you out of the cycle “Fucking bout’ time!” a tall and strong built guy growled at your friend and then eyed you top to bottom. “This is that great surgeon? She is supposed to be better than you?” he scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his face. “For your information I am fucking better at surgical work than most!” you snapped. You were freaked out and now some dude that looked like a typical thug was trying to insult you.

“You better not be just running your mouth hun” he smirked grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to the next room. He basically shoved you inside and tossed your bag at you. You didn’t even know when he managed to take it from Kook. The sight in front of you was gruesome. A young male about your age was laying on some banged up table. Blood was oozing out of his stomach. His pitch black long hair was sticky, his skin pale as a sheet of paper.

“Bloody hell…” you whispered walking up to the man. You turned to look at your colleague giving him the “what do you expect me to do?! make a fucking miracle happen?!” stare. You bent over the man and checked for a pulse. To your surprise he was still alive.

Looking at his slashed abdomen you thought to yourself there is now way you can do anything in these conditions. Even if by some chance you were to manage to stitch him up, the place was far from sterile, so he would die of sepsis anyway. “He needs a fucking hospital!” you say and take your phone out to call up an ambulance.

Suddenly your cell got knocked out of your hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Just as your were about to scream your head off, you saw it, the end of a gun pointing straight at your forehead. “No hospitals” the tall male snarled. Now you were sure, you got into some gang business and this was not gonna go the way you want.

tag list: @wobblewobble822

#jeonghan #namjoon #suga #yoongi #agustd #agust d #bts fanfic #bts smut #j hope smut #j hope #yoongi smut #min yoongi #yoongi min #suga smut #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #agust d x reader #bts x fem!reader #hobi smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook

[seokjinsonlyone]

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

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #kim namjoon fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #hobi fic #j hope fanfic #hoseok x you #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader

[tryingtoremembermyname]

chaotic pretty is something else….

which one is your favourite?

other members :

yoongi

jungkook

taehyung

namjoon

seokjin

jimin

#moodboard #aesthetic #hoseok #jhope #jhope fanart #bts jhope #j hope x reader #jung hoseok #hobi #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #x reader #fluff #angst #bts x reader #bangtan #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #edit #kpop edits #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n

[xjoonchildx]

kanalia | jhs x reader | chapter five: the king is a fool

banner by the amazing, incredible @kth1

⚜️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 💕

previous chapter final chapter

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.”

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 💕

#hoseok smut #j-hope smut #bts smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope x reader #bts x reader #hoseok #bts hoseok #bts x you #hoseok x you #bts scenarios #bts au #hoseok imagine #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtan

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

SET ME FREE x MIN YOONGI

[MAFIA AU]

PART ONE

Red Chopsticks

Side Characters: Kim Namjoon/police officer detective, Jeon Jungkook/police officer detective, Jung Hoseok/mafia member and Yoongis right hand.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, death, robbery, killing, guns, torturing, fire, porn (a lot of it), drugs, cuss words.

Song: Gods and Monsters by Lana del Rey.

Next ->

………………………………………………………………………………….

I knew that working as an intern at the police station wasn’t going to be easy. As a young woman i knew that very well. But life wasn’t ever exactly easy for me, when i wasn’t fighting to survive i was planing how to survive tomorrow.

At least i was never bored.

“Another fight against the mafia Min left three police officers in the hospital in critical condition and five dead, the police said that they are taking care of the case right now and so far they can’t disclose any information about the investigation but, everything indicates that the mafia leader Agust d was behind it. We’ll be back after the break…”.

I took a sip of my coffee as i watched the news on the tv in wall of the coffee shop. This Agust d was one of the most wanted criminals in the world, they say he has deals with the Italian and the Japanese mafia. No one knew how he looked like, the only way to know he was behind a crime was looking at the crime scene. He had a way of doing in the most cleanest way. Bodies dropped dead in a blink of an eye and no one would know.

I always wanted to be a police detective just like my father, completely influenced by him but when he passed away i made the promise to take his place and do just as much good to the world as he did. To continue his legacy. Since I was the oldest I had to take care of the house and my younger brother. Who was still in high school.

After completing my training i was assigned to work as an intern at the police station. I’ve been working for almost four months now, it hasn’t been easy since.

Many male seniors looked down on me and tooked me for weak. But that didn’t stop me. It never did in the academy and It won’t here.

I’m gonna do my job and I’ll be the best at it.

Days are work were usually the same, sitting on my desk making documents and delivering documents with criminal information on crime scenes, criminals and people who passed.

I had to make sure every information was in order and ready to be documented and archived in the system.

At lunch break I would seat in the table with the few detectives that saw me as one of them, Namjoon was working on the Agust d case together with Jungkook and his other man, he would always take care of me when he could. As fathers used to know each other and for that reason he’s always been like a big brother for me in the station.

- how’s been work so far y/n? - he asked, a smile showing his dimples making him look even more attractive.

- same old same old - i said, sitting in front of him on the table. - how is the investigation of the Min mafia?

- don’t even tell me about it. The damn Agust d is like a ghost. - he held his chopsticks tighter, a deep look in his eyes showing me how much this case has been burning him, no one wanted to catch that man more than him - But just you wait…. I’m gonna catch him and make him pay for his crimes.

- I’m sure you will - i send him an assuring smile - no one can do that but you.

He replied my smile send a small one back to me, the air around seemed to have lightened up since.

- make sure you document our relatories right y/n - Jungkook the youngest detective said to me in a teasing way. Turning the attention to me.

- you do your job and i do mine - i said - I’ll be better then you once i become a detective.

- she’s coming for you man! - Namjoon teased, getting playful too.

- I’m not scared of girls - Jungkook stated, looking my way.

- well then I’ll make you scared - I said daring. We all just laughed after that.

Lunch time was always pleasant with them, as much as they can’t seem to stop teasing me for being the youngest, it was nice being with them.

After lunch i went back to work finding a new pile of documents with a small yellow note saying to transfer them all to the system. One of the other female workers who was a senior Looked at my way saying the boss requested me to do the documents and send it to him.

I sighed knowing it would take more then hours to complete the work, specially with how slow the system has been lately.

…

Finishing the last paper o looked outside the window at the office. It was night already, half past eleven.

I yawn getting up from the chair, time to clock out. As I walk down the stairs to the front doors of the station, Namjoon comes from the corridor of the left. I smiled at him and he does a little jog to come to me, accompany me as we both exit the building.

I take a deep breath once outside, finally time to go home.

- you need a ride home? - Namjoon offers.

- oh no, thank you though - i declined - I have my own ride home.

- don’t tell me you’re still driving that thing? - he asked incredulously of my ride home.

- hey! Don’t talk like that about my baby - i said. Hitting his arm.

- i swear that motorcycle is a monster… - he said playful.

- no it’s not… - I’m interrupted by my cell phone ringing, my brothers name shining on it. - sorry i gotta go, bye Joonie!

I quickly said by to him as i run to the parking lot, once my motorcycle was in my sight I took the call.

- hey bro what do you-

I couldn’t finished. My voice got stuck in my throat as i heard him sobbing, silent cries.

- they are coming to get me… I’m so sorry big sis…- he cried, I could hear laughs and other voices in the back.

My mind was doing loops. Different scenarios about what he might have gotten himself into that could have gotten him in that situation, i felt the rush in my body and completely lost control of myself. The only family I had was in danger and i just couldn’t breath at the thought of it. How could I not do anything?

Knowing i was just an intern at the police station but i would never turn my back to someone in need. Never.

I’m so stupid.

I moved out of instinct. Getting in the motorcycle. Turning on the GPS of his cellphone so i could track his location, finding out my brother l location was my focus now. Turning the key the loud roar of the motor was flowed through my ears. I checked the GPS once more finding out he was at the wets part of downtown.

My eyes looking incredulously at his location, just what in the world was he doing at one of the most dangerous parts of downtown?

Once I find him I’m going to smash some sense in his head, with my fry pan. Hard.

Driving this late wasn’t so bad, everyone was sleeping and those who weren’t were coming back from work or just going to parties, getting dunk or eating out. It was easier to get there faster, as i drove towards my brothers destination the streets began to slowly turn darker, and i don’t mean light sense.

I was struck by how things went down there. I never came a single kilometer close to this part of the city. Now I know why.

People fighting in the middle of the streets, some drunk men being dragged out of a pub, woman bearly clothed walking around smoking.

I stooped my motorbike to look at the GPS once again, he was close now one street ahead in the next alley. I drove there slower till I was close enough to go there on foot and made my way to the alley.

I couldn’t find words to describe this place, it smelled so bad my head started to hurt. Cigarettes and cheap alcohol, piss in the corners and some people laying on the floor. I didn’t know if they were alive but, i didn’t know if going there to check would be a good thing to do.

I had my own share of trouble to solve now. Once in the alley i felt paralyzed, honestly I didn’t know what to expect from this. I didn’t know what to do. I just knew my brother was i danger and i had to get to him quickly.

Once there i stood in the alley, my heart was weighing on my chest, as i saw three men cornering my brother. Two of them wearing big jackets and while one wore a baseball hat the other a bucket hat he was the one who held my brother against the wall while the other one threw a punch against him. Those disgusting pieces of trash.

- ya!

Anger boiled inside me. Now finally getting their attention. The one who threw the punch turning towards me. He was bald and had a dragon tattoo on his face that follow the side of his head to his left eye.

- there's nothing to see here princess - he said - get out or... we might not let you go.

- no, you leave - i stood my ground - i already called the coops, leave my brother.

They all just laugh, i didn't move an inch through if i wanted to win this I would have to fight. I knew I would.

- you all heard that? She called the cops - he said in a mocking way to the other guys and they all laughed - you must not be from here little girl.... the coops don't come here any more.

- yeah... - the other one who held my brother said, he took his cap off siding with the tattoo guy - Agust D made sure of that.

They looked at each other and chuckled.

- we gotta thank him for that... - the back one said walking towards me - thanks to him we can do whatever we want to little girls like you....

I felt like throwing up.

It wasn’t long before two arms held me from behind, a breath of cigarettes hitting my face. A forth men? I tried to break free from it but the man’s hold was strong.

Bald guy walking towards us a vile smile on his lips as he did so, my mind was completely blank and all i could hear was my heart beating faster in my chest and their laughs as if it was coming from far away.

My eyes desperately searching for my brother finding him laying on the floor, fear boiling on my body. I could only watch.

How useless i was.

- we are gonna have so much fun… - he said grabbing my face and smiling sickly. I was so disgusted and angry at the same time.

Still i spit on his face. For a second it seemed like he didn’t believe it, then he angrily cleaned his face with his hand.

- you bitch! - he was one second from slapping me in the face.

If I’m in hell, might as well shower in flames. I closed my eyes waiting for the blow, but it never came.

- what’s is all this garbage?….

A different voice said this time, before anything could happened, from behind the man in the other end of the alley a man stood there.

I couldn’t make his face as he was too far, he proceeded to light a cigarette and take a blow. Smoke flying above his face as he lets it all out. He was wearing simple clothes, ripped jeans a white shirt and flower shirt over it. Long black hair slick back. He walked slowly towards the commotion, as if this was nothing but exactly what he stated: garbage.

- we don’t need more people here friend… - the man in front of me said, walking towards the new stranger - just keep minding your own business.

- well you see… friend - he said closer now, eyes falling over mine and i noticed the scar on his face. It made him look mad. - i don’t like men hurting woman…

- I don’t give a shit about what you don’t like get the fu- before the man can say even one more word, scar men throws a punch on him, cigarette still between his lips.

He falls on the ground nose bleeding and groaning in pain, scar men takes a second blow lof the cigarette letting the smoke fall out of his lips slowly in the air watching the men on the ground, a smirk on his face.

- I also don’t like poor dirty vocabulary… - he said, throwing the rest of the cigarette on the man.

The two other guys went stray to the scar men, one of them throwing a punch on him but he quickly dogged grabbing the guys arm bringing towards him he punched his ribs then kicked him on the same spot, while this were happening the other one who just watched grabbed a piece of wood and went straight to the scar face men.

It happened so fast, the guy didn’t stood a chance as scar face held the piece of wood and his other hand before he could do anything, a sick laugh coming from scar face lips. He looked as if he was having the most fun but, more then anything like this was nothing to him.

I knew he went hard when i heard the sound of cracking, but it wasn’t from the wood. The painful groan that left the guy mouth was enough to tell me, scar men broke his arm then threw the guy on the floor two with another kick. He stood there pushed his hair back and looked at me, a smirk still on his face.

The forth men that was holding me finally let me go, turning back i only saw him walking fast as if he had nothing to do with this signaling to the other men to get out of there, one after the other they got up from the floor leaving quickly. I don’t know who that men with the scar is but although he helped me and my brother, he doesn’t seem like one to mess with.

As the alley was clear i ran to my brother, checking to see if he was okay. He hugged me as soon as i kneeled beside him.

- why did you come? - he cried on my shoulder - they could’ve hurt you…

- and they hurt you - I told him - how could i not come? Should I have just left your!? You punk.

I helped him up holding him by the waist, I honestly thought the scar men wouldn’t be here anymore. I was surprise to see he was still there looking at me and my brother. Both hands on the pockets of his jeans.

Noticing my look of surprise at him he only side smiled, I couldn’t read his expression.

- it’s still dangerous to be alone at this time… - he said walking to the end of the alley where he came from and towards the street - let’s eat something till things cool down in downtown.

I didn’t question. I didn’t know how things worked at downtown and if he’s from here he knows more then I do. Seeing how my brother was still in pain I thought that would be a good idea, at least until he gets better to go and as the scar men said till thing cold down.

So i follow the him. We walked without saying anything else, the streets of downtown seemed to really be quieting down now . He stopped in front what looked like a noddle restaurant, it looked old with rustic furniture and decor.

He walked around as if he new the place and quickly sat down in one of the tables on the back, i fallowed him sitting in front of him after helping my brother to sit beside me.

And old lady came to our table, she seemed to know scar face as she smiled at him.

- the usual mister Yoongi? - she asked him, he nodded.

- the same for them - he then replied, she looked at me once then my brother the expression on her face showing clearly. Pity.

She quickly went back to prepare the food, i looked at the men in front of me. The scar on his face gave him a fearful look, he had sharp eyes too and moved with so much confidence and control of himself. Nothing around his surrounding seemed to fazed him, he looked indifferent to everything.

He’s from downtown. The part of the city were crime was all over it, the mafia Min had control over it more then the military soldiers. No one could take this area down. They had so much power over it no one from the outside could even imagine what was truly happening here, everyone feared getting even the stlighly close to here.

I tried not to think about it so much as time passed, the food was put in front of us by the old lady. The scar face who’s name the old lady said before was Yoongi took his chopsticks blowing the noddles before eating.

His knuckles had some blood on them, but he just eat as if it wasn’t nothing to him. Are all the people in downtown like this? Born bad? Born with blood in their hands.

Now here i’m right in the middle of it. With this men in front of me who looked like he was some kind of mafia criminal.

- are you in the mafia? - I only realized I said my thoughts out loud when he looked at me.

He stoped mid eating, mouth slightly opened as he hold his chopstick. His eyes locked on mine and he stared at me, it felt cold the more i held eye contact with him. I couldn't decipher what was going on his mind, it made me even more intrigued and for a second it felt like time had stoped, everyone and every thing around us simply didn't exist.

How did I get here? Who was this men?

I couldn't breath. My eyes were glued on his, how could someone like him have this kind of effect on people? I felt a shiver run down my spine as he licked his lips smirking if that was somebody else I’m sure it wouldn’t look as attractive as he made it look and before he took a bite of his food he simply said without breaking eye contact with me.

- no.

Nothing else was said after that.

We all just eat our food. The silence was filled with only dish sounds and food being cooked, some old people talking about sports and how some areas were too dangerous.

I kept checking on my brother to see if was fine, he only eat his food quietly blood dried already on his bottom lip, a bruise on his right eye turning red. I hated the fact i couldn’t protect him. Even after becoming a police officer I couldn’t do anything to protect my only family.

Mat the sudden movement in front of me my eyes turning to Yoongi as he got up from his seat, he grabbed the pair of red chopsticks before looking at me one last time.

- i have something to deal with now - he said - you know that way out, don’t worry about the food… is on me.

Was all he said before turning his back and walking towards the back of the restaurant with the red chopsticks.

What a night.

Taglist: @missmin @whipwhoops @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe @catlove83 @taegicity @ginger-coffee-addict @rosquilleta @tarahardcore @liveyun @manuosorio @thvlover7 @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky

Notes: First part is out YES. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes I didn’t edit yet! 🥺💖🤭

#bts drabble #bts smut #bts x you #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction #bts smut reactions #bts yoongi #jung hoseok smut #bts mafia series #yoongi mafia #min yoongi #suga smut #bts suga #j hope smut

[margotw10bis]

Crashing On Crush.JJK 6 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader / Hoseok x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 5.1k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: angst; broken heart; mention of death; protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving)

previous ← 6 → next

Graduation Day. Today, you finally graduate from college. It's officially the end of your long academic journey and the beginning of the 'real adult life'. You have dreamt about this day for years: being finally able to introduce yourself as a Master's Degreed Cultural Business professional. You've planned this day a hundred of times with Suzi. You should be happy, party with your friends, have fun. But your mood is miles away from that. The poor seven days after Jungkook's broken your heart weren't enough for you to heal.

Jongseob is by your side though, the exact same way you were for his high school graduation. He looks so happy for you that you don't want him to worry about you. So you put a fake smile on your face and act like everything's fine. His innocent eyes are shining with pride and affection and that puts some ointment on your ripped heart some what.

"How is it to be free from school?" He asks you with his imperfect yet so cute smile

"I guess you'll have to finish college to know" You answer while he winces.

Jongseob hasn't decide yet if he wants to go to college next year. You wish he would so he can have more choices in the future but you don't want him to be unhappy and force him to do something he doesn't like.

"You're no fun, Noona"

You stick out your tongue at him to tease. He hugs you tight and you feel good for the first time in days in his arms. You realize that the little boy you met years ago is becoming a strong man. His embrace is getting more and more powerful, just like he is turning into an adult. You're proud but also a little bit worried that maybe he won't need you anymore. But it's far from the truth: you will always have a special place in Jongseob's heart because you had been and will always be his family, even when he was alone.

"I love so much, Jongseob" You whisper emotionally, so thankful to him to lighten your mood while he has no clue of it

"I love you too, Noona"

————

"Please, Kookie!"

"No, it's not a good idea" Jungkook sighs

She has been yapping in his ears for fifteen minutes now and Jungkook's starting to have a headache.

"Come on! We haven't hung out for years! It's gonna be fun!" She is pouting, trying to coax him while he sighs for the thousandth time.

Jungkook sits on his couch, trying to not remember how it felt like when he has hold you in his arms at the very same spot a few days ago. It seems like years ago to him now. A harsh pinch in the heart makes him wince at the thought. He misses you so much.

The past week, he has tried everything to forget you: he has worked overtime to keep his mind busy, spent hours in malls with her talking about new fashion trends - as if he gives a fuck about it - and he has been working out a lot. Right now, he doesn't want to do anything. He just wants to stay home, alone, and try to fix his damaged heart. He has given up everything, given up you, for her and she was asking for more. How much could he handle until the breaking point?

"I swear, we gonna have fun, Kookie. We don't even have to drink so you could take your lovely fancy car"

Jungkook stares at her with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if it's a good idea. It's definitely not. Yet, he says:

"Okay, but no drinking" He is not sure he'll have the patience to deal with a drunk person tonight while he surely wants to get wasted to forget you a few seconds.

"Yes! Thanks, Kookie!" She brightly yells, throwing herself at Jungkook's neck and giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

————

"Can you tell me once again why we are here?"

You are grumpy. Even when Suzi has tried by all means to cheer you up, it didn't work. Tired from trying, your best friend ended up dragging you - against your consent - in a club.

"Because we have talked about it a thousand times and we agreed on celebrating our graduation months ago. Come on, it will be fun, I promise" Suzi softly says to you, kissing your cheek

You can't blame her, it's true. You, indeed, were supposed to party after the graduation ceremony and go to the club since Suzi loves it. You promised her. But when you did, you didn't know that a tattooed man with piercing would break your heart. However, you enter the club and the loud music is already hurting your ears. This is going to be a long night.

Everyone is so happy. Suzi, your friends from college and Taehyung are all dressed up and in the mood of partying. Not you. You didn't even put any efforts on your outfit: just a simple pair of jeans with a - oh, fancy! - lilac bardot top. You try, you really try to be in the mood, smile and joke with everyone but you can't. Every time your eyes close, you see him. His long, black and smooth hair. His beautiful dark doe eyes. His perfect lips. Those same lips that kissed you and then opened to say 'I love you' to another girl.

You give up hope on having a good night and walk straight to the bar. Alcohol will be your friend tonight. You directly order two shots of vodka, wishing that after that you won't have this handsome man in your mind.

Next to you, a woman appears.

"A diet Coke, please!"

You tense immediately. This voice. No. No, no, no. This can't be. Fate can't be this cruel to you. You don't hear well because of the shitty and loud music. But you can't help turning your head at her. It's her. The girl you saw in Jungkook's arms. She is gorgeous. Long dark, almost black, straight hair. Beautiful brown almond eyes. And a perfect smile with full lips. The smile you should have on your face tonight.

You just stare at her, speechless.

"Celebration night?" She asks you cheerfully while your heart squeezes in pain

"Yeah" You answer with a white voice

You just pray she is alone and he is not here. But who are you kidding? The odds have never been on your side. You are just unlucky. So, of course, he walks right at her, not even noticing you. And that fucking hurts.

"You said no alcohol" He talks in her ear

Seeing him this close to her, her back leaning on his buff chest is painful. This is everything you wanted and Jungkook has it, with another woman. Your heart burns and its beats echo in your ears. You feel your throat drying and your eyes watering.

"Relax, Kookie, it's just a Coke"

Then, Jungkook's eyes meet yours. The surprise is more than visible on his perfect face - the face you wish you didn't miss this much. You still remember how his lips felt on yours, how his long almost touching shoulders hair felt under your fingertips. It felt so good so why does it hurt so bad now? Why does he have to look so good in his black t-shirt and same color jeans when you look like trash? Didn't he feel any pain last week while you were crying every night in your bed? It looks like it...

"Y/N?" His deep voice becomes suddenly raspy and is almost a whisper

"Oh, you know each other?" The girl says and then smiles at you, even that hurts you "I'm Mina, Jungkook's girlfriend. Nice to meet you"

You feel like throwing up. Jungkook has a girlfriend and he cheated on her with you. And now you are facing her! How are you supposed to face her? You feel so guilty. You don't even look her in the eyes. It takes everything from you to give her a weak 'Nice to meet you too'.

You notice your two shots that the bartender has just put on the desk and drink them one shot. The vodka burns your throat and your stomach, which makes you wince, but it's nothing compared to your fucking torn apart heart.

You walk away, putting as much distance as you can with Jungkook and his girlfriend. Your vision is blurred by burning tears and you are struggling to breath. You bump into so many people on the crowd dance floor on your way to the exit. At some point, you run into Suzi. Her smile immediately fades away when she sees the panicked and hurt expression on your features.

"What's going on?"

"I-I can't stay here. I'm sorry. Jungkook, he-I'm sorry" You can't speak properly with your erratic breathe and messed up brain

You push Suzi's hands off of your body and run to the door, begging for air.

————

It was a bad idea. Jungkook knew it. He should have said no to Mina. The way you looked at him and then, the sorrow that twisted your pretty face... He couldn't take it. He swears he heard his heart break again when you left.

"Why would you do that?" He speaks harshly to Mina

"Do what?"

"Say you're my girlfriend"

"Because I always do that. I say I'm your girlfriend, you say you're my boyfriend. We always do that" Mina frowns

"We did. Don't do it anymore"

Jungkook clenches his jaw so tight that his teeth hurt. But he knows that it's not over when a furious Suzi walks straight to him. He has never seen his best friend's girlfriend like that. If eyes could kill, he would be dead for sure.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Suzi shouts, pushing harshly Jungkook's chest with her two palms.

He winces more from the pain caused by her words than her gesture.

"Wooh, calm down. Who the hell are you?" Mina intervenes and it's a fucking bad idea

Suzi glances at the girl. Your best friend gets even angrier when she understands everything: the real reason why you were so heartbroken is this girl. Jungkook lied to you! He made a fool out of you! He played with your heart so easily and now he is having a good time with a girl? Suzi can't bare with it.

Suzi has known you for four years and you are one of the most important people in her life. You shared your room at the beginning of college, you were there when her stupid ex-boyfriend cheated on her the first year, you helped her moving with Taehyung. You love her and she loves you. During all the years you have been friends, Suzi has never seen you being mean to someone. You are always kind, you always try to please everyone even when that means you being uncomfortable. You are the best person she knows and fuck! you don't deserve any of this twisted situation. You deserve the kindest man and he would be the luckiest person on Earth to be loved by you.

"You piece of shit" Suzi hisses with disgust "How could you do that to her? Y/N is such a nice girl. Do you have any idea how much she's cried the past few days?"

Jungkook's heart tighten, feeling your pain just like his. He swears he didn't want to hurt you but he didn't have a choice. Not when Mina was here and he had to take care of her. He wants to tell Suzi to stop talking because knowing how much you have suffered because of him is too much to handle. However, if your best friend thinks he is an asshole and tells you to stay away from him, then he would know there is no chance for him and he wouldn't be tempted to run after you and beg you for forgiveness.

"Stay away from her! Don't ever talk to her again! You don't deserve anything from her, not even a glance, not even a thought. And I don't want to ever see you again so don't step in my apartment again"

With that, Suzi leaves, her heart pounding with adrenaline, anger and sadness for you.

"Is everyone crazy in Seoul?" Mina jokes

Jungkook doesn't even talk back and walks through the crowd. He needs air. Everything around him is too heavy: the air in the club, the heat from sweaty people, and the huge pain of his heart. It's all crushing him.

The second he pushes the heavy exit door, the air slaps his face. He steps aside the small crowd near the entrance wanting to enter the club or smoking a cigaret. Everything is so fucked up in his life. He needs to think and to convince himself he can't be with you. But that's so hard when he sees you panting and crying in the middle of the street, just a few meters away from him. He doesn't want you to cry for him, he is not worth it. He wants you to be happy and that's the only reason why he's pushed you away. However, when he sees you like this, he wishes he could travel back time.

His body is moving instinctively and he doesn't notice he is hugging you until he feels your body tightly pressed against his.

Your eyes widen. For a moment, just a second, all the pain is gone. Jungkook's warm and strong arms around you make everything bad disappear. It's so easy for him to make you happy - or sad. A small part of you forgives him everything immediately and is willing to not ask any question as long as he keeps you in his arms. But the other part is too hurt and overwhelmed by how right it feels to be in his embrace.

You try to push him away but he is way stronger than you.

"Get off of me!" You exclaim, sounding more hurt than angry

He does distance himself from you but not too much. He still has his big palms on your bare shoulders, making you look at him in his pretty eyes. You swear you can see as much pain as you feel but it can't be true: he has a girlfriend, he doesn't love you and he lied to you. It's just your imagination because it's what you wish so much: him to love you.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry"

His voice is broken, his eyes get watery and you close yours in disbelief.

"I don't want to listen to you. You lied to me! You lied to her!"

Your eyes are red and big round tears are rolling on your cheeks. This is pathetic, crying in front of him. You try once again to get rid of his hands.

"Listen to me, Mina is not-"

"Don't touch her" A strong man's voice cuts Jungkook off while he is pushed by the stranger

You look up at your savior and you gasp. Hoseok, the sunshine in the darkness. How ironic is it to meet your first ever crush when your current one has broken your heart?

You are equally surprised to see him than to see how his features are tensed while he is sweetest guy in the world. You haven't seen him in years. Strangely enough, he was the reason why you wanted to move to South Korea for your studies.

Hoseok, while he is almost seven years older than you, was your neighbor abroad. He was born in Korea but his parents moved in the house next to yours when you were six. Your parents are friends and you can't count how many evenings you've spent together. As a teenager, you began to have your very first crush on your handsome neighbor. He was sweet, nice and always smiling. When you think about him, your heart is full of happy memories. Of course, due to the age gap, you never said anything about your feelings towards him and you know he saw you like a little sister. However, few time after his studies, Hoseok went back to Korea and that's when you decided you would go too and maybe, if it's fate, you would meet Hoseok again.

Your crush on Hoseok was the innocent one. The one you have when you're young and you're willing to love more than to be loved. Now, you have no romantic feelings for him but a huge affection. He has changed your life in so many ways, especially when it's thanks to him you started get interested in the Korean culture.

"Are you okay?" Hoseok asks you with a softer tone

"Hobi?" Is all you manage to say with a small and shaky voice and you are quite surprised how his surname came so naturally on your tongue. More than that, it feels sweet and safe.

On the other hand, Jungkook's knuckles whiten as he clenches his fists. He wonders who the fuck is that guy. Also, he is angry that this guy has stopped him while he was trying to explain himself to you. If he has to, Jungkook won't hesitate to punch him, especially when he sees his hand grabbing yours.

"Y/N, please, let me talk to you" Jungkook tries to soften his voice when he talks to you but it's a hard thing to do when his whole body is so tensed

"Please, Hobi, let's leave"

Jungkook's heart squeezes and it's even more painful that you don't look at him at all.

Hoseok simply nods and leads you to his car.

It's an understatement to say he was surprised to see you. He wasn't even sure it was you: the last time he saw you, you were fifteen - that's to say just a kid for him. Now, you are a woman. A beautiful woman. He knew you were in Korea because his parents'd told him but he just didn't expect at all to meet you like this. However, when he heard this all-in-black guy calls your name, he didn't hesitate and pushed him away from you. Seeing you cry rekindled his protective instinct towards you.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Hoseok asks when you get in his car

"I don't want to talk about it" You answer honestly

Hoseok firmly grips the wheel, a hundred of scenarios in his head wondering how much this asshole hurt you. He swears to god, if he has touched you, he will kill him. Lost in his thoughts, he startles when you put a delicate hand on his taut one. His eyes soften forthwith and he manages to give you a weak smile.

"Thank you for helping me" You say

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N. Do you want me to bring you home?"

"Actually..." You blush hard "Can we go at yours instead? I don't want to be home alone"

Hoseok takes a moment to think, wondering if it's truly appropriate. But when he looks at you, he sees two things: how sad you are and that you are not the kid he knew in the past. You're a grown up woman and you are able to make your own decision. If you need his help, anyway is it, Hoseok will help you. However, he can't say he is not caught short of how beautiful you are. He has to shake his head to not think about you in another way than his sweet young neighbor.

"Sure" He eventually says with a dry throat, especially abashed when you give him a gorgeous smile.

Hoseok's apartment is way bigger than yours but it's homy. It feels just as warm and welcoming as Hobi's smile. You notice some pictures with his parents and family, and with his friends too. You are smiling while you are browsing the paper memories. But you suddenly gasp. One photo, way bigger than the other ones is a wedding. Hoseok's wedding! He is smiling like crazy in his beautiful white suit and he is holding the hand of the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. Her hair is delicately style in a fluffy bun and her wedding dress makes her look like a princess.

"You're married?!" You scream more than you ask, in a high pitch

"I, uhm, yes, kinda"

Hoseok's smile is so sad when he gets close to you to look at his wedding photo. He knows it by heart but he is always amazed by how gorgeous Sojung is.

"Where is she? I hope she doesn't bother me being here"

"She passed away two years ago"

There is so much pain in Hoseok's voice. You feel your heart breaks with his.

"Oh my god, Hobi, I'm so sorry, I didn't know" You squeeze gently his shoulder to confort him and he gives you a thanking smile

"She was sick even before the wedding. But we wanted to get married. You know, it's funny because there was no point of that, we knew she would die few weeks after the ceremony. But we did it anyway: getting married knowing it was useless... It was worth it though. Sojung was so happy, she laughed the whole day"

You can't hold your tears when you listen to him. You feel so bad for him. Hoseok is always so happy, so cheerful. He is a true sunshine. Knowing he's been through so much pain is heartbreaking. You would give everything for him to be with his wife right now.

"I'm so sorry, Hobi"

You hug him tightly while you are both crying. You don't know how long you stay like that but something changes in you. And you are sure that Hoseok feels the same thing. Sharing your pain with someone you've known for years but have no idea of your biggest pain is someway liberating and comforting. You share your pain and you heal each other's sore. You don't need to talk because yours and Hoseok's hearts are directly connected and understand each other's.

He cups your face in his big hands, looking straight in your watery eyes with his own. He is so beautiful: his perfect brows, his brown and soft eyes, his perfect nose and his heart-form lips. You are drowning in his eyes.

"Can you love me just for tonight?" Hoseok asks you in a whisper

"Only if you love me for tonight too" You murmur

It's exactly what you felt when you hugged: you both need to feel loved. Just for a night. Your two hearts are full of love but have no one to love. You both know that, as your lips meet, you are secretly willing to be with somebody else. But it doesn't matter, all you need now is each other.

Hoseok's lips are soft and warm. It's like a big hug around your entire body and you feel safe. The kiss is nothing like sultry but passionately sad. Yet, your heart beats faster as Hoseok presses his lips harder against your mouth. Your hands find their way to his hair while his hands are holding your waist tighter. Soft moans escape your lips glued to Hobi's. The kiss feels good. It exactly feels like what you need.

Without pulling your mouths apart, Hoseok guides you towards his bedroom. You don't have time to look around but it's like a safe place. You pull on his shirt to help him get rid of it. You are surprised to see how defined are his muscles. Hoseok has always been fit but it's the first time you see him shirtless. And it's quite a pleasant view. You can't deny the arousal slowly building up in your stomach, especially when Hobi's mouth starts working on your neck. The wetness of his lips and tongue against the burning, thin and sensitive skin of your throat feels so fucking good. Your head is completely in the clouds of horniness.

Hoseok leaves your skin just the time to take off your top and his eyes meet your perfect breast cloaked in your strapless skin color bra. He gently kisses the bare skin and smoothly undoes your bra. It's on the floor in no time. Your fingers run up and down against his strong and soft back, pulling him closer to you. Hoseok's mouth makes its way down until he kneels in front of you. He looks up at your face to silently ask you permission to slide down your last pieces of clothing, and you are all up for it. His delicate fingers unbuttons your jeans and drag them down your legs.

Your moan fills the air when Hoseok gently kisses you through your panties' fabric. You feel it soaked from your arousal. The last clothing barrier is getting rid off and two big palms are holding on your hips. The grip is firm and fucking good. However, not as good as Hoseok's lips on your clit. The position is so sinful when you're standing up, completely naked, a man's face in front of your wet pussy kissing your sensitive bud. His tongue is warm and powerful while it rolls around your clit at a delightful pace. Your hands grab Hoseok's hair to not fall down under the pleasure he is providing you. He takes your left leg and makes it rest on his large shoulder to have a better access to your dripping cunt.

"Oh fuck!" You moan

His tongue is devilishly expert. It licks the right place over and over again until you feel your body tense and lightly shake. You roll your head back, your groans getting louder and deeper. His hands squeeze your perfect ass and the fire in you explodes. You shout his name when you reach your high.

Hoseok gets up and you fall against his chest because of your post-orgasm shaky legs. You feel good in his arms, especially when he pats your hair. You catch your breathe and starting unbuckling his belt before undressing him. You gasp and blush hard when you see Hoseok's cock. You've never thought you would see it one day, and he has nothing to be ashamed of. Hoseok's member is not particularly thick but it's definitely long. The sight of his hard cock makes your mouth water at the same time it makes your pussy even wetter.

You press your lips on his, feeling his dick pressed on your belly, hard and warm. You gently push Hobi on the bed, his back resting on his headboard. You get on top of him, still kissing. You bite his lower lip when his hands firmly grab your ass. He places delicate pecks on your collarbone to your tits. You press his head deeper on your skin.

"Grab a condom in the night stand" He asks you with a raspy voice

It's at that moment that you realize he hasn't spoke until now. You stretch your body to open the drawer and pull off a metallic square packet. You open it and give the condom to Hoseok for him to cover his length. When he is done, he grabs your hips and push you down. Right before entering you, he looks you in the eyes. You nod, saying that you're okay and he slowly stretches your pussy. It feels so good and a long moan escapes your parted and swollen lips.

"You feel so good" Hoseok whispers against your neck with his eyes closed

You stay on his cock a few seconds to adapt. He is so long, you can feel him very deep inside you. You rest your forehead against his and start bouncing on him. Sinful sounds of skins slapping fill the air and make you more horny. You even have the feeling that Hoseok's cock is getting harder. Quickly, your skins are covered with a thin layer of sweat. You hold him close to you, your arms around his shoulders. Hoseok's fingers grab your boob and play with your nipple while the other is wrapped around your waist helping you to ride him.

"Oh my god, Hobi!" You scream when his cock hits your g-spot

"Keep going, it's so fucking good, Y/N" Hoseok cheers you before storming on your pretty lips "You are so gorgeous, do you know that?"

His compliment makes you clench around his long dick. Each slide against your walls is a pleasure that makes your tighter. You are beginning to feel tired, especially when your second orgasm is not far but Hoseok helps you by lifting his hips to meet yours harder and deeper. The slapping sounds made by your thighs is louder and it drives you and Hoseok crazy.

"I'm close" You groan, closing your eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his big cock buried in your cunt

You feel good in his arms, you feel so close to him. He is taking you like he loved you and you are taking him like you loved him. This is exactly what you both needed. The whole bedroom is filled with your moans and slapping skins. You feel your pussy getting tighter and tighter around him, warning Hoseok that you're going to cum soon. He pounds you a little faster to make you reach your climax right before him, moaning each other's names.

You are both panting, foreheads against each other's. Hobi's hands gently caress your arms and your back while you free his pretty face from his sticky hair.

"Thank you, Y/N, for loving me tonight" He says, softly kissing your lips

"Thank you for loving me tonight, Hobi" You whisper back

He invites you to take a shower, which you gladly accept. Someway, your heart feels less heavy. Not only you didn't think about Jungkook while you were with Hobi, but you also could release a little bit of your love to give it to someone who needed it. Hoseok feels the exact same. He didn't think he would ever, ever have sex with you and yet, it was a beautiful moment. You were so delicate in his arms and he has held you so sweetly, giving up a little bit of his sorrow. He just hopes you don't think he was using you, and he hopes that you could spend time together and try to be the old friends that you are.

————

Your day is a perfect example of the Ying Yang symbol. Everything started good, great even: Namjoon has just told you that the gallery wanted to keep working with you and offered you a permanent contract. You were so, so happy and you gave him a little demonstration of your 'happy dance' and he laughed a little bit too much to not upset you - not that you resent him because you ended up laughing harder when he started dancing too.

But then, everything went beyond wrong when Aecha, your colleague in charge of the communication, asked you to welcome the new graphic designer for a future exhibition in few months. In fact, in a city as big as Seoul, the odds of this graphic designer being the only person you don't want to see are low. But you are not lucky. Because while waiting for this new partner to arrive, your heart skips a beat when none other than Jeon Jungkook walks towards you. 

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