#hobi x you

[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

[cerisekoo]

pairing: hoseok x fem!reader

a/n: hi everyone! i decided to write something for hobi day! I know I'm a little late but I had fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it! :)

warnings: cnc, forest fucking, chasing, spitting, hair pulling, humiliation, degrading, fingering, p&v sex, slight overstimulation.

“I had fun tonight, thank you for everything babe,” your boyfriend, Hoseok, speaks as he starts his car. He leans over the car’s console to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Today was Hoseok's birthday and you decided to take him out on a date while the both of you had time. He isn’t a complicated person so you took him to his favorite restaurant and ate, maybe had a few drinks. Nothing too crazy.

“Of course, it wasn’t much, but I still wanted to do something for you. You always go all out for me.” 

It’s true. He spoils the hell out of you, and you only want to do the same for him.

“Trust me, spending time with you is good enough for me,” he smiles, reaching for your hand to hold it. No matter how long you’ve been with him, he never fails to make you flustered.

It’s ten minutes into the car ride when you notice him taking a few unusual turns. The plan was to eat and go back to his place. You can’t help but wonder where the hell he was taking you.

He takes one final turn onto an empty one way road, the sides of it an endless field of trees.

He brought you to the woods?

You swallow, confused with a pit of nervousness forming in your stomach. What the hell is he doing right now?

“Hobi, I thought we were go-”

“You have five minutes to run and hide before I find you. Understood?” your boyfriend cuts you off, making you shiver at his words.

Not wanting to pry on his demand, you open the door, not without one last glance at Hoseok. 

You already know where this is going, and it's quite simple. Your boyfriend is experimental when it comes to your sex life. You can’t help but get a twinge of excitement.

Slamming the door shut, you waste no time in sprinting into the woods. It's dark and freezing, only the moon lighting up the forest.

Your heart beats out of your chest, running through the muddy grass and branches, no doubt your shoes are surely ruined. You take different turns and paths past trees and bushes, hoping to make finding you more difficult. The adrenaline keeps you going.

You stop, catching your breath while trying to keep an eye out for him. It's surely been well over five minutes, maybe you ran too far?

As if it was on cue, the sound of footsteps crushing leaves in the distance behind you brings you back to reality. Your heart instantly drops.

And before you know it, you’re running again, the fear fueling your stamina.

You attempt to be as quiet as possible, but the branches you’re stepping over are a dead giveaway at where you’re running towards.

It feels like it's been an hour of trying to find a perfect hiding spot, when you see a huge oak tree, branches big enough to cover you. Finally.

You can’t register what's happening when a hand covers your mouth and the other around your waist, trapping your arms from behind, your eyes widening when you take in the familiar hand.

How the fuck did he find you so fast?

“You’re a good hider, but not that good, baby,” he grits into your ear along with a snarky laugh. His hold on you is borderline painful.

“Hmm, let’s see what we’ve got hiding under here.” He doesn’t give you a chance to move, instead gripping your hair with the utmost force to push you up against the tree, the bark digging into your skin.

He wastes no time in lifting up your white floral dress, smacking your ass along the way to rip off your underwear.

“Well, would you look at that,” he chuckles at the sight. “You’re fucking dripping, baby,” he whispers as he runs his long fingers between your soaked folds. Your hole clenches at the slight stimulation, whining for more.

“Looks like you enjoyed the chase, huh? Of course a whore like you would.”

You’re embarrassed that he’s right.

He presses his middle finger in your hole, unable to contain your moans when the grip on your hair gets tighter.

He laughs at your attempt to grind on his hand, inserting his ring finger inside you to give you what you want.

“Wish it was my cock instead hm, baby? Grinding on my hand like a bitch in heat for fucks sake.”

Getting no answer, he immediately pulls his fingers out your hole and all you can muster out is a whine in protest.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he spits out into your ear, “you asked for this,” as he takes it upon himself to rip your dress off, completely ruining the dainty material. You’re left bare in the freezing woods– quite opposite to his dressed figure. You cry out when he leans in to bite your neck, marking you with a fresh, red hickey.

“Hobi please not her-”

“Don’t cry like a bitch now and take what I give you,” grabbing your jaw, forcibly opening your mouth when a glob of saliva escapes his lips to land on your pink tongue.

“Uh uh, swallow” he commands when he sees you trying to reject his spit, shutting your mouth together, leaving you no choice but to swallow it.

He doesn’t stop at that, a chill of fear and excitement as you hear his belt buckle jingle and his fly being unzipped.

Looking over your shoulder, you get a slight of him spitting into his hand, using it as lube on his hard cock. 

He pushes your face back against the tree, grabbing both of your arms to put behind your back, restricting your movements as much as possible.

After what feels like years of torture, you feel his tip poke and prod against your hole. Within seconds, he slams inside of your poor swollen cunt, a gasp escaping your lips.

The once quiet forest is now filled with sounds of skin slapping and quiet grunts from the both of you. Your eyes roll back at his harsh thrusts, his cock constantly prodding at your sweet spot. You won’t last long.

“Mh- fucking gripping me, relax. Gonna fill up this cunt.”

Your walls clench even harder around him, the thought of him cumming inside you while being this vulnerable bringing you closer to your climax.

He delivers another smack to your ass, addicted to the way it moves under his force. 

 A few more pounds into your cunt and you’re cumming, a ring of cum gathered at the base of his cock. It leaves you shaking.

“Fucking made a mess of my cock, hm?” your boyfriend remarks. Despite the cold weather, you’re sweating. You try to get him to slow down his bruising thrust by pushing him away, while this only makes him smack your hands away and grip your hips harder.

His moans increasingly become louder than before, signaling he’s close. 

You begin to wince painfully from the overstimulation, not that he cares though.

“Shit” he breathes out, a warm sensation fills your cunt. His cum coating every bit of your walls, not stopping until he unloads every last drop inside of you.

He swiftly pulls out, letting you go as you stand there, body spent and legs shaking from the intense sex. 

He takes off his jacket to cover your body, and lands a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re a present in itself.”

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fic #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts fic #bts #bts smut #bts hoseok #bts hobi #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #hobi x you

[eoieopda]

the one where hoseok comes home

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x gn!Reader Type: Drabble // Fluff // Established Relationship AU Rating: PG-13 — Minors DNI w/ my content, regardless! CW: None 💕 Summary: It’s October 2024 and your life finally — finally — resumes its orbit. WC: .5k A/N: Deviating from my WIPs (ope) because I needed a fix-it fic for, like, reality? Nobody requested this lil baby blurb, unless you count… me. Dedicated to (m)y jihope-biased emotional support moot, @here2bbtstrash

You’d learned more in eighteen months than you had in over eighteen years of formal education.

The first lesson came on your second morning alone: hotteok tastes better when it’s made for you. Even if the cook gets distracted by the background music they themselves are generating. Even if the edges are crispier than they should be, and the centers are a bit gooey, or there’s pre-packaged mix dusting over your previously clean countertops. Even if that hotteok is cold by the time you stop kissing and start eating, you know now that few things in life are sweeter.

He is, of course, but the point still stands.

Showers, you’d learned, are colder when you take them alone. This was a surprise you grappled with for weeks and a confounding reality you still struggle to square. A scientific mystery, then and now.

All of the hot water was yours — exclusively — to use as you pleased. You didn’t have to scramble, soap-covered and squealing, for the prime spot under the shower head. Cold air didn’t nip at your damp skin when you lost territory because you didn’t have to compete for any in the first place. Still, without whole-chested laughter to echo off the walls, not much existed to separate your body from cold porcelain.

The absence of personal space isn’t something you intend to ever take for granted again.

Of all the things you’d realized in your uncharacteristically quiet apartment, one thing hit a little harder:

Love looks different every day.

Sometimes, it comes at an odd angle. It’s spending all thirty minutes of a daily allowance with a phone propped against a faucet. It’s staring up at someone’s chin, watching fondly as they brush their teeth, and smiling when they remember — without being told — to put the cap back on the toothpaste.

Other times, it looks like an Excel spreadsheet of pop culture news, fastidiously collected and organized so that no groundbreaking celebrity gossip goes unreported. It’s incredulous eyes and a scandalized mouth hanging open, interjecting occasionally with, “Wa, jinjja?”

Every now and then, it looks like handwritten letters with thick, black redactions applied after the fact with a far heavier hand. Though you couldn’t tell where in the Republic they came from, you knew — without question — that government censorship does not apply to hastily doodled hearts.

Today, however, love doesn’t look like much of anything because its hands are covering your eyes.

It sounds like clean spoons clattering back into the dishwasher you’d been emptying, entirely unaware that the door down the hall had opened and shut out of earshot. It smells like army-issued shampoo and Thai milk tea from that little spot near the train station, where surprise journeys home occur two days ahead of schedule. And it feels like the ground shifting beneath your fluffy house slippers; the Earth now back on its axis and ready to resume spinning like it should.

Tonight, love will taste like hotteok for dinner — and you won’t have to make it yourself.

#jade’s drabbles #bts #bts drabble #hobi drabble #jhs #jung hoseok #hobi #hoseok drabble #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #hobi x you #hobi x y/n #hobi x reader #hoseok fluff #hobi fluff #bts fluff #btshoneyhive #micdropnet #re: the one where hoseok comes home

[sailoryooons]

The Wood | JHS | (m)

☾ Pairing: witch!Hoseok x female reader

☾ Summary: From the moment you step foot in Kill Devil, you know something about the town is off. Determined to find out exactly how your sister went missing in such a small town, you receive unlikely help from the man staying in the motel room next to yours. But there is so much more than what meets the eye with Hoseok and the citizens of Kill Devil.

☾ Word Count: 16,786

☾ Genre: supernatural, psychological thriller, southern-gothic

☾ 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: Creepy town vibes somewhere in the south, unreliable narrator because she’s a dumb bitch, missing family member, descriptions of nightmares and night terrors, allusions to toxic citizens and intolerance in the southern US, cryptic exchanges, being attacked and choked by a strange entity, sleep paralysis, depictions of anxiety and panic and deep fear, manipulation, cat Yoongi.... sort of, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight hand job, a lot of spit and cum, fucking in a nasty ass motel room, mean Hoseok at the end, I don't know why I reference frogs so much please forgive me, ambiguous ending/unexplained ending, implied death of a side character off-screen

☾ Published: May 29, 2022

☾ A/N: Not only is this absolutely a million weeks late, it also is the longest it has ever - and I mean ever - taken me to write a fic. This was so hard for me to write, and I have deleted anad re-written thousands of words for this. The end result is something that I absolutely did not plan. This fic is ENTIRELY different from the original outline and idea, so at times it might seem where this piece doesn’t know where it’s going because it wasn’t until I got to the end of the smut scene last night that I realized what the hell this story needed. 

I want to thank @here2bbtstrash because I could not have written this fic without them, but also for the amazing and thorough beta they gave this. This was one of my choppier/messier pieces and they helped fix this so much and I have giant feelings for M that are very normal. Also a special thank you to @gimmethatagustd for keeping me somewhat sane while really struggling with this piece.

☾ 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.

Masterlist | Ask | To Love A Monster Collab | Song Inspiration

Only God can save us! 

It’s probably the tenth sign of the like that you’ve seen. Your palms feel sweaty on the wheel, the unsettling feeling in your stomach as you drive through God’s Country increasing. For some reason, as you catch glimpses of old abandoned churches at the end of red dirt roads and leaning fruit stands with no seller in sight, you think that perhaps God has forsaken this place. 

The drive has been unremarkable, but the closer you get to Kill Devil you think perhaps the town is aptly named. You can’t help but get the sense - especially when you stop at a gas station with no one inside and a single working pump - that there is a reason the town sports such a unique title. 

It’s hard to imagine why your sister would ever move here, even temporarily. Outside, the locusts whine, a high-pitched buzzsaw hidden in the boughs draped with Spanish moss. The paint on the road has long since faded, single lanes stretching North to South in an endless strip. 

Sticky heat prickles your skin. Though there’s no one else around save for you and the locusts, you can’t help but look around nervously, eyes scouring the oak trees. The door to the gas station is locked, and the other side of your single-station pump has a red bag on the handle. 

The sk sk sk of the pump is a slow heartbeat. Pulling out your phone while you wait, your stomach flips when you see that you have very little service. You’re about thirty minutes away from Kill Devil and an hour away from any major cities. Peppered along the map are small towns like Kill Devil, home to pecan farms, corn fields, and cotton gins. 

You feel a long way from home.

A tingle slides down the back of your neck. You look up from your phone, gaze sweeping back and forth through the trees and over the cracked pavement of the station. There’s nothing else there, but you have the sense that the trees have eyes. 

The pump clicks loudly and your heart lurches, hand flying to your chest as you shriek and turn. For a few moments, your heart beats so loudly in your ears you can’t hear the chirping of the locusts or your ragged breathing as you close your eyes, trying to level out your moment of panic. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, pulling the handle and jiggling it lightly to ensure any dripping gas is shaken off. 

Naturally, you’re a pretty calm person. The jumpiness belongs to your mother, who screams every time someone turns a corner in the house unexpectedly. It’s something about the feeling that clings to you like a second skin as you get in the car that has you shaken. 

Or it’s the fact that your sister has been missing for two months. 

On instinct, your hand goes to the necklace around your throat. It’s a heart-shaped locket, which would seem cheesy to anyone else. But for you, it’s one of the few coveted items you have from her.

It’s also something that you swear burned you in the middle of the night two months ago. You’re not sure if you believe in spiritual intuition or connection between family members, but what you do know is that you haven’t heard from her, and the local police have been no help. 

Trust your gut. That’s what she’s always said. And you do trust your gut on this, this knowing that something is wrong. 

On the road again, your tension continues to increase. The land has turned to steep up and down hills, pines lined on either side of the road, pocked with deep canyons.

Orange tire tracks appear and disappear on the highway, turning off onto clay roads with washed-out shoulders and deep ruts from all of the rain over the summer. Your sister had mentioned the house she was renting was nearly impossible to get to when the rain was bad.

A green sign that says Kill Devil City Limits passes by. No welcome sign, no little plaque announcing the population. Your music skips in and out, the connection to your phone weak. You switch to FM, flinching at the roaring static that comes through, finger jamming on the arrows to skip through to something passable.

Country. Country. Church. Country. Rock. Pop. 

You leave it on the pop station, turning your eyes back to the road. A logging truck comes roaring up the hill, blasting by your sedan at top speed, making your car shake. Your heart squeezes in fear. You’ve passed over two dozen of them and they never drive any slower or any safer each time. 

You’re going to kill Hanna if you find her lounging in her house, making you come all this way.

She had taken up a story there, investigating the town's eerie occult background for the media company that she worked for. Her editor had stopped receiving updates from her around the same time you’d stopped hearing from her. 

When you called the landlord she was renting from, he was no help. Some idiot who owned seventeen houses dotted around the country, renting them out for twice the price they were worth. 

The local police station had been worse. They’d done a wellness check several times after you called but insisted she wasn’t home. No signs of a break-in, no signs of a struggle. No reason to be missing. They refused to make it an official report, as there was no reason for her to be missing. 

Have you considered she just doesn’t want to talk to you? they’d laughed on the phone. 

It was a joke. Somehow you could not believe they refused to file a report, and you threatened to take it to the state police and anyone who would listen to you. The woman you had spoken to had chuckled then, her mirth sending a chill up your spine. 

Have fun on hold, sweetheart.

You could not fathom how not a single person cared. Not the news, not any authority that you could get in contact with, and certainly not the lawyer you reached out to. 

Let law enforcement handle it. Your pleas fell on deaf ears and it was like it didn’t even matter that an entire person was missing. You’d heard about the blunders of the law enforcement system before, but this was a new level of ignorance and oddity.

It was… unexplainable. 

Which was why now, you were driving into the backwater town of Kill Devil in the southern part of the United States. 

Dropping your speed down, you take the chance to look around. There are a few houses on the outskirts of the town, their yards sprawling with kudzu and their homes leaning heavily with brown vines climbing up the eaves. There are several old, broken-down trucks in the middle of the kudzu fields, swallowed by the invasive vine-like devil’s snare. 

You’d heard of one-stop-light-towns but you had never seen one without. Kill Devil is made up of all stop signs. Everything is built around the courthouse, a red brick building dropped in the middle like a fungus growing its roots outward.

The sheriff’s office is just across the street with Crown Victoria model patrol cars. A taxidermist is right next door, the gold cursive font on the front of the glass door telling you it’s been there since the 70s. 

Kill Devil has everything you expect. Antique shops with dusty windows and dry-rotted awnings, a convenience store that looks straight out of retro America, closed-down shops with empty shelves and shattered glass, and a single diner with station wagons and mud-slicked trucks in the parking lot. 

A single motel stands at the edge of the town center. When you pull into the parking lot, you look up at the sign and frown. Like something out of a horror movie, the Lodging Motel is missing several letters in long-burnt-out neon, three letters blinking in the fading afternoon sun: Lodging Motel. 

Die.

With one look at the crusted, three-paneled windows and mold-covered brick face, you think that you just might die. 

Pink sun sinks behind the rolling hills of pine. You get out of the car, stretching and popping your joints as you look at your lodging with a sour taste in your mouth. You pass the ‘vacant’ sign as you walk to the small square building at the end with ‘front office’ on the window. 

“Yeah no shit,” you mutter. You cannot imagine who would stay here out of anything but necessity. 

In fact, it seems like there is no one staying at the hotel. This fact makes you jumpy as you approach the office, which is just a clerk's window and a woman with sunken eyes and a scowl on her face watching you. You swallow thickly as you give her a weak smile and nervous wave, trying to get past the sudden anxiety trembling in your hands. 

“Hi,” you say. “I have a reservation for-”

A small window that’s about six inches tall and a foot wide pops open. She hacks, fluid-sounding and phlegmy before saying, “I can’t hear you with the damn window closed. What do you want?” 

You clench your jaw. Slowly, you begin again. “I have a reservation.”

“ID and credit card.” 

You slide the materials through the window. She holds them up close to her face, scrutinizing them. Crickets join the singing of the locusts. Mosquitos fly around your head and you cringe, swatting at them as you wait while she rolls her chair over to a cabinet.

Wordlessly, she puts your credit card on a manual credit card imprinter. You raise your brows, unsure of the last time you’ve seen someone do paper credit card printing instead of sliding it through a machine. 

While you wait, you look past her into the office. It’s dingy inside but you can see a box TV and a window unit air conditioner rattling in the window. There are metal cabinets that form their own little skyscrapers around her office. An episode of I Love Lucy plays on the fuzzy TV screen. 

“Here’s your room key.” She tosses it through the window. It’s room three, the key hanging on a diamond-shaped, acrylic keychain with Lodging Motel written in Sharpie. “We don’t got room service or maid service. If you need more towels, the launder-mat is down the street. Don’t run the hot water more than twenty minutes or so. If the AC ain’t on, hit ‘er a few times.” 

“Great,” you deadpan. “Anything else?”

She scowls. “Mind the raccoons. They got rabies.” 

“Thanks.”

Inside the room is just as expected: peeling wallpaper, red shag carpet with questionable stains and the unmistakable stench of cigarettes, sconce lighting with lampshades that look decades old, a twin with a horrible patterned blanket, frayed at the edges and moth-eaten, and a single, square dresser with a box TV on top and a white, corded phone. 

The bathroom is no better. The tub is stained with limescale, cracked tiles, and a lamp that buzzes when you flip it on. You scream when you see the massive roach hanging out in the tub, gagging and running out to look for anything to kill it with. 

You settle on a sneaker, and it’s a battle involving your high-pitched scream as you try and kill it. You do win, but you’re covered in sweat and shaking after your victory.

A sharp knock on the door startles you further. You drift to the front door, looking out the peephole to find that it is cracked and you cannot see the person standing just on the other side. You slide the chain lock in and open the door tentatively, peering out into the now early night. 

“Everything okay?” a male voice asks. “I heard screaming.” 

The voice belongs to someone who absolutely does not belong in Kill Devil. He’s dressed in jeans with large rips at the knee and a plain white shirt that hangs off his frame stylishly. He has a few necklaces on, a single hoop hanging from his right ear that catches the flickering parking lot light. 

And he’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that stuns you. He has a slender face with smooth, flowing skin. His eyes are kind, glittering brown with flecks of lighter shades throughout. The slope of his cheekbones and jawline makes you think perhaps he’s into modeling, which would explain the taste in clothes. 

But it does not explain what someone who looks like that is doing in this shithole town. 

“I had to kill a roach,” you admit, a little hesitant. Your skin tingles under his gaze, your instincts picking up something that you can’t put your thumb on. “I don’t like them very much and it was fast.”

“Disgusting. I had to buy killer for them - it came in a two-pack if you want?” You don’t answer, watching him warily. He picks up on your anticipation and smiles, disarming. “Sorry - my name is Hoseok. You can call me Hobi, if you’d like. I’m staying next door which is just as gross as your room is I’m sure. I heard you yell and I got worried.”

“That’s kind of you. This doesn’t seem like a place where people would care if they heard  screaming.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not from here.” He looks around the parking lot and his eyes focus on a raccoon meandering near the trash. You grimace, thinking about rabies. “Thank fuck, this place feels right out of fucking Deliverance.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling better at his distaste. “One sec, let me slide the lock off.” You close the door and slide the chain before opening it a little wider this time. “Yeah, this place gives me the creeps. Hopefully, I don’t have to be here long.”

“A night is long enough. You want that spray?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” 

Hoseok grins and holds up a finger, asking you to wait as he jogs to his room. He’s only gone for a moment, leaving you in the poorly lit lot with the tk tk tk of the raccoon pilfering through trash and the crickets creek creek creeking. 

Hoseok’s door opens and he’s back, handing you a large, red can of lemon-scented Raid. “Just make sure you drown them. They did outlive the dinosaurs. Makes you wonder what the hell is in that stuff.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem…” He drifts off, unsure what your name is. You laugh, a little flustered by the way his entire face lights up when he smiles, and give him your name. “I like it. Well, I don’t know how long you’re here, but I’m your neighbor for a few days. Try not to catch any infections while you’re in there and holler if you need me.”

“Thanks,” you grin. You hold up the can and add, “Especially for this.”

With a wave goodnight, Hoseok returns to his room. The buzz of something instinctual fades with him, replaced once more with the unsettling frequency the town seems to vibrate at. 

Closing the door firmly behind you and flicking the lock, you shiver. The eerie feeling that had been following you lingers.

After changing the sheets, inspecting the rest of the room and setting the spray can firmly on the pillow next to you, you lay on your back in bed, mattress lumpy and air conditioner rattling. 

-

Moonlight streams through the curtain, catching dust motes floating in the air and turning them into diamonds. You stand in the middle of the room. Cold but humid air clings to your skin, the air conditioner rattling and dripping as it cools the room but does nothing to suck out the moisture. You don’t know why you’re standing in the middle of the room and you don’t remember waking up and getting out of bed, but you face the window, the curtains open just enough to face the empty parking lot. 

Silence blankets the world. The hum of the air conditioner fades and you stare out into the silver-painted parking lot. Above the lot, a street light flickers on and off weakly. It goes out for a minute and flashes back on.

Someone leans against the pole. You can’t make out any features, just that there is a person there, perhaps facing you. The hair on your skin stands on end but you can’t move. Your instincts begin to prickle and there is a sharp feeling in your chest.

Belatedly, beyond your hypnotized stare, you realize the feeling is fear.

Your ears start to ring. You stare out at the shadow and the shadow stares back. Something is telling you to run run run but you don’t know how. Can’t move your feet. Panic begins to rise, your heart beating so fast that you can hear it over the steady whine in your ears. 

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thumpthumpthumpthump. 

You can feel your pulse skyrocketing, your chest squeezing tight with terror as the beating gets louder and louder -

Awareness hits you like cold water. You lurch forward in bed, hands flying to your chest as you gasp for air. It takes a moment to get your bearings, the pounding in your heart so hard it feels like you might vomit. Battling the sheets, you rip them off of you, legs sticky with a sheen of sweat. 

The lamp is still on in your room, the curtains are closed just the way you left them, and the bug killer rolls on the bed as you get up. Several paces away from the window, you catch your breath, running a hand over your face. 

“Fuck,” you pant, realizing you were dreaming. 

When your breathing levels out, you glance at the closed curtains. Something niggles at your brain. Slowly, you walk toward the window, feeling the hairs on your arms tingle and stand on end.

Lifting your shaking hands, you grip the curtain tight. Taking a deep breath, you hold it in and pull open the curtain just a bit. 

Unlike your dream, there’s no moonlight outside. It’s so dark you almost can’t see anything in the parking lot. When the lot light flickers back on, your heart squeezes, expecting to see a shadow leaning against the pole. There’s nothing there, just empty lot and a dumpster. Not even the raccoon is around. 

Blowing out your held breath, you close the curtain again and shake out your hands, trying to get rid of the jitters. Rolling your neck and shoulders, you try to work out the tension as you sit on the end of the bed, staring at the faded wallpaper. 

The dream felt so real. You swear that if you turn your head, you’ll see silver moonlight through the curtains. That you’ll see that person - that shadow - standing outside of your window. 

Exhaustion weighs heavy on you. You crawl back into bed, mattress damp and smelling like mildew even with the sheets that you put on it. You’re under a lot of stress and you hate this motel room as much as you already hate this town that you’ve barely started to explore. It makes sense that you’re having weird dreams. 

Blanket pulled up to your chin, you eventually let your lids flutter shut until you’re taken by dreamless sleep. 

-

Morning sun chases away the dregs of your strange dream from the night before. With daylight streaming between the curtains, the room looks no better. It’s a futile hope, perhaps, to keep thinking that the room will suddenly not look nearly as questionable as when you checked in. 

At least there are no bugs. 

Outside, the balmy air is filled with the voices of the locusts. You lock the door behind you and glance toward where Hoseok vanished the night before. His windows are closed and there’s no sign of him anywhere in the parking lot, so you head to your car, stomach begging for food. 

Kill Devil is small in both size and population. The Diner is easy to find, tucked in the southwest corner of the town across from the courthouse. Folks wander about the parking lot, shaking one another’s hands and laughing as the weekend rush of people meanders up the steps for breakfast. 

Your arrival is noted immediately. Eyes turn your way as you walk through the lot, loose gravel crunching under your feet. The lot is more packed dirt than pavement, full of holes and mud softened by rain. 

Seeing a new face in a wretched little town like this probably isn’t common. Though you’re not familiar with growing up in such a small population, you remember what it was like knowing everyone at school. The same theory applies here when a portly man with raised brows stands, screen door in hand as he stares at you.

The man blocks the way to the inside of the diner. You pause and look up, noting the confusion on his face. After clearing your throat, he realizes that he’s completely frozen from opening the door and coughs, bowing his head and apologizing. 

“You uh - visiting?” he asks, holding the door open for you. When you nod, he seems surprised, though that had to be the only answer. “Well, that doesn’t happen often. Welcome to Kill Devil.”

There’s a small host stand with a pile of laminated menus on top. A girl who looks to be about your age stares back at you, wiping her hands on a red apron tied around her waist. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt that says The Diner across the chest, her hair pulled up and stabbed through with a pen. 

“Just you?” she asks, eyes fluttering to the man who shrugs behind you. You nod. “Right this way.” 

The wooden walls are painted white, some of the paint peeling. There are miscellaneous animal heads with plaques underneath stating the names of their killers with a stamp of Jason’s Taxidermy. You try not to make eye contact with their black, glass eyes as you sit in a chair that wobbles from side to side.

You thank the hostess as she wanders off to get you coffee. The family at the table next to you does their best to whisper about who the hell is that as you look over the menu, flipping it to the breakfast side. The laminate is sticky and peeling at the corners. 

It’s a pretty standard breakfast menu. You put it down on the table, nudging the container holding different colored sugar packets and sweeteners while you wait for your coffee. There’s a breakfast bar with people bent over steaming eggs and sitting atop cracked vinyl seats. 

The door opens behind you at a steady rate as people pay their bills and leave while new customers are sitting. A presence at your back sends a cool tingle up your spine, making you straighten and look over your shoulder.

Hoseok stands in a shaft of sunlight coming through the window, turning him gold. For a moment, the diner around you falls to a hush of murmured voices, muting the clinking of spoons against ceramic and scraping chairs.

He’s dressed well again, in a simple white button-up with the button undone to reveal a strip of golden chest. His hair is slightly damp and styled back, an outrageously good look on him. The same hoop earring dangles in his ear but today he has on a few necklaces and rings on his fingers. Somehow, he makes the delicate pieces carry an edge. 

“You survived the night, huh?” he says by way of greeting and then gestures to the chair across from you. “Would you mind company for breakfast?” 

You shake your head, forgetting words for a moment as he smiles, radiant as ever. Hoseok pulls out the chair and sits down, a twinkle in his eye that makes your heart flutter as he plucks a menu from the holder at the center of the table. You can smell his rain and lavender scent from across the table. 

“Thanks again,” you say, realizing you haven’t spoken yet. His brown eyes look at you over the top of the menu, and you can’t help but admire how beautiful they are. Warm, both dark and light, with flecks of chipped gold. “For the bug killer. I haven’t seen any more but I just know they’re there.”

“That’s the shitty thing about the South. All of God's least favorite creatures are here.” He glances at the table of scowling men next to you to emphasize. You hide your laughter with the plastic menu. “What brings you to this shit hole?”

“I’m… visiting my sister.”

“You sound unsure of that. Does she not know you’re coming?”

“She doesn’t.”

While they aren’t technically lies, you don’t know how much you can trust him. Instinct makes you hold the truth from him. After all, you don’t want him to know you’re in a town where no one knows you, and where no one knows you are. By yourself.

Hoseok looks at you again, his eyes narrowed. You feel tension creep into the air between you, your mouth drying out as he watches you silently. 

The arrival of the hostess who is also your server saves you from another question. You both place your order, and you note the way the girl cuts her eyes to Hoseok, wary. Her hands shake a little.

When she leaves the two of you, you ask, “How long have you been here?”

“A few weeks.”

“Enough to win over the locals, hmm?”

His grin is sly as he drums his fingers on the table. “I’m their favorite - you’re perceptive.” 

“My sister is an investigative journalist. She’s made me watch all kinds of shows and read books about psychology and body language with her. I picked up a few things.”

“An investigative journalist, huh?” Hoseok plucks a sugar packet and rips it open with his teeth. He shoots the ripped piece onto the table with a huff of air and dumps the contents on the table. Leaning on one elbow, he begins to trace patterns in the sugar. “So you’re not from here. No one here is smart enough for that.”

“No, she’s been living here since July.” 

“What’s she investigating?” You hesitate again. He doesn’t look up from the patterns he’s tracing on the table, finger steady as it cuts through the white sugar.

“I don’t really know.” He does look up when you say that, gaze razor-sharp. A chill slides up your spine. So you add, “Something to do with the occult.”

Hoseok stops moving his finger through the sugar. He doesn’t look at you, but he’s fixated on the mess he’s made on the table. You chew on your bottom lip, eyes dropping to his little sweetened artwork. You don’t understand the pattern that he’s traced, but it buzzes your brain when you look at it.

The silence stretches on. He remains unmoving and silent. Anxiety starts to creep in and you wonder if he thinks you’re crazy or is going to get up and leave-

With a huff of laughter, he leans back and smiles at you. 

“The occult huh? Interesting subject.”

“Know anything about it?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I mean, what is really considered occult? Most of these Bible thumpers around here would consider being queer witchcraft.” 

“You have a point there. Don’t tell them I’m a witch.”

He grins. “You can join my coven, then.” 

“Do you think they know there’s more than two genders?”

Hoseok’s laugh is infectious. You laugh along with him, visibly ruffling the feathers of the table next to you. 

For a moment, the two of you share a secret smile at your little table, wedged between the people who go to church every Sunday and swear by Fox News at brunch. It feels good to know you’re not the only person completely out of place in Kill Devil. 

The arrival of your server with steaming plates breaks the moment, but you feel better about your morning nonetheless. Especially when the conversation switches from stilted exchanges about your sister and the occult to things about you and Hoseok. 

Over runny eggs on toast and crunchy bacon, you learn that Hoseok is a shop owner in a small town very far from Kill Devil. He brushes over the fact that he’s visiting family to tell you all about his small corner of the world and all of his favorite plants. 

“Fiona is a venus fly trap,” he giggles with a snap of bacon. “She’s my second favorite, but what I really love is my pitcher plants. They eat bugs, mostly, but they like to devour frogs too. The frogs love to hide in them, but sometimes the pitcher plants take kindly to them and don’t eat them. It never lasts.” 

“I would hate for them to eat the frogs.”

“Hmm, circle of life.”

“But the poor frogs!”

Hoseok isn’t swayed. “There has to be a balance to everything. The pitcher plants will kill the frogs eventually. Sometimes a predator likes to play with its prey. Their ecosystem doesn’t make sense. In order to pay back the food the pitcher plants bring them, the frog must die. It pays for power, in the end.”

“How do you mean?”

“Everything has a give and take.” He pauses to sip his coffee. He makes a face, opens a sugar packet, and empties it into the coffee. “In order to have life, we must have death. In order to have water, we must have fire, for earth, we must have air. There is a give and take in existence, and it has to stay that way.”

“If it doesn’t?”

“Chaos.”

“You know, a lot of theology believes that chaos created the world.”

“And perhaps it did. But in order to make the world, chaos needed…” Hoseok takes his butter knife in one hand and sticks out his pointer finger with the other. You watch as he places the knife horizontally across his finger, sliding it just so until he slowly lets it go, leaving it teetering back and forth, but never falling. “Balance. There has to be even weight on the scales to make it work.” 

“Interesting. So you think there is true balance in the world.”

“Not always, which is why we must make it.”

“Hmm. You have some interesting opinions.” 

“I am an interesting person.”

You like Hoseok. Conversation flows easily and it seems that he either doesn’t notice or does not care that he draws glances around the room, particularly when he gives a high-pitched laugh, leaning backward on the metal legs of his chair to clap his hands excitedly. You swear you see the table next to you flinch, though you can’t imagine why.

Hoseok insists on paying the bill, though you fight him all the way to the register. The elderly woman behind the till jams the pricing in from the ticket and slams the cash drawer shut when Hoseok hands over the bills. She makes sure not to tell you to have a good day, and you feel her sharp stare as you leave the interior of The Diner. 

In fact, the stares of the citizens are just as intense outside. Hoseok rattles on about a time he got really high and forgot to feed his cat. “Yoongi was so mad he wouldn’t talk to me for a week.”

“What?” you ask, distracted by the way a group of men leaning against a red pickup glare. “Your cat talks?”

“Oh- he- well he meows, you know what I mean?”

“No, but I’m sure he was very vocal.” Hoseok smirks, toeing the gravel of the parking lot as you reach your car. You glance over at the pickup truck again, seeing the four sets of eyes fixated on the two of you. “Why does everyone around here stare?”

“They’ll ignore you soon enough if you ignore them.”

“They don’t seem to ignore you.”

He gives you a wry smile. “I guess you’re right. Going to visit your sister, then?”

Digging around in your bag, you search for keys. “Yeah, she lives out in some place called Grave Hollow. How creepy is that?” 

Silence is your only answer. You look up, pausing the search for your keys to find him staring at you with a blank expression. Your heart skips a beat - it’s the same wiped-clean face he had when you mentioned your sister investigating the occult. 

Licking your lips, you ignore the feeling of a weighted stone dropping into your stomach. Hoseok says nothing.

Then, he’s chipper again. “Well have fun,” he chirps, shrugging and giving a wave as he backs away to leave. “Hopefully she has some cool occult stuff to tell you about. You know where to find me!

It’s hard to keep track of the way Hoseok’s mood flips on a dime. You stare after him, but he’s all smiles and sunshine again before turning on a heel to walk out of the parking lot. His hands are tucked into his pockets and he tilts his face toward the azure sky, whistling a tune with a happy cadence. 

Something sticks to you as you watch him leave. You don’t know what it is, this feeling that you’re missing a critical detail. It’s like your instincts are scratching lightly at the door, but you have no key to flip the lock and no crowbar to force it open. 

Anxiety returns when you remember the weight of the eyes still focused on you. Hurriedly, you snatch your keys from your bag and get in your car, tossing your bag on the seat and starting the engine. As soon as it purrs to life, you feel instant relief. 

You hope that it lasts.

-

According to the research you’d done on Kill Devil, the town had been officially founded in the 1700s. Of course, being ‘officially’ founded didn’t mean much in the way of Western colonization. You had little doubt that the migration of people to the South chased out Native American tribes, as was the story everywhere. 

Kill Devil has been named such since its inception, which occurred a little after Georgia had been named an official state. The abundance of soil for cotton and peanut fields made it a wet dream for the expansion of cotton gins and eventually, peanuts - there was even a rumor that peanut butter had been invented in Kill Devil first, but you knew that to be untrue. 

A small town with a small impact. That was Kill Devil at the heart of its existence. It has always had a small population of sleepy folk. No stop lights, one church, a lot of paper companies coming in and cutting down trees, and some farming fields for various reasons.

There’s no reason that for a tiny little dot on the map, the town should be significant. 

And yet it had called your sister here. 

The car bounces, the suspension whining as you drive down the dirt road. A clay wall comes up on either side of you, roots of trees sticking out periodically. There’s no shoulder to the road, the rain has deepened the ruts on either side. You’re careful to keep in the middle, slowing down as the road tightens on corners. 

Pine stretches as far as the eye can see. You pass the occasional neon tape, marking sections of trees for the paper company to let grow a little longer before hacking them down. Several metal gates with keep out and declaring different hunting clubs flash by. There’s even a sign that says Rucker’s Meat Processing. 

GPS is unreliable out in the sticks where the cell towers don’t quite reach. You keep an eye on the flattened paper map in the passenger seat, marked with your red marker to make sure you take the right road.

A sigh of relief escapes you when you see a little metal post with a turn-off sign: Kill Ditch South. The house that your sister is renting lives off of that, only a mile down the road or so. Long drives appear between the trees, houses parked at the end of them. You feel a little less alone in the woods now knowing that there are people around. 

Though you’re not sure how helpful they would be if something was wrong. 

Worry creeps into your stomach as you slow the car. There’s a little mailbox with the address your sister gave you. It’s at the end of a short drive that’s been layered with gravel to make the incline easier on tires. It crunches beneath the tires as you drive toward the modest, white house. Your sister’s Four Runner is parked outside, making your heart thunder. 

Turning the car off, you slide out into the humid air, hands trembling. Locusts scream, hidden in the trees. The sun is at its zenith, beating down on you as you slowly walk toward the house. It’s a single-story with two sets of windows facing the front. A wrap-around porch that leans to the side stands empty, save for a single bench. 

As you pass your sister's car, you notice that the grass underneath is dead and dry. As if the car hasn’t moved for a while, denying the grass any sun to live. It makes you feel nauseous, feet like anvils as you take your first step up the stairs. 

The creak of the wood makes you flinch. 

“Hanna?” You call, voice shakier than you want it to be. “Hanna, it’s me! Don’t freak out!”

No one answers. Your stomach bubbles like acid, the slow drip of sweat down your neck making a chill rattle up your spine. You reach the door and swallow thickly, lifting your hands and knocking loudly. 

“Hanna?” 

Nothing but the sound of the locusts answers you. 

Your palms feel sweaty as you knock again. This time, your voice cracks when you call, “Hanna? Please answer the door.”

Wind sweeps across the trees. One thing about the wind in a land of pines and hills is that it’s loud, making a whooshing sound as it’s picked up by the boughs of the trees, rattling and letting their needles shake to the floor. 

It’s cool at your back and you feel your lip wobble when you lower your hand to the doorknob. When you twist, the door opens immediately, swinging of its own volition when you let go. 

Inside the house is the kind of silence that terrifies you in horror movies. The air is heavy. Your ears ring, searching for any rasp of sound to tell you that your sister is home. Licking your lips, you step over the threshold, the wooden floor cracking beneath the weight of your feet. 

To the immediate left of the door is an open kitchen. There are dishes on the dry rack and plants in the window, though they are wilted and dry. You chew your lip as you step further into the house, eyes sweeping around.

A blue, painted table stands in the middle of the kitchen. Piles of mail sit on top of it with a fake plant centerpiece and your sister's car keys.

Across from the kitchen is an open doorway with a stacked washer and dryer, and a folding table. It smells faintly of detergent, clothes folded in neat piles as if Hanna had just completed a laundry day.

Everything is silent in the living room. The couch looks cozy, with piles of blankets draped across it. There’s a faint smell of vanilla, though the wick on the candle doesn’t look like it’s been lit in a while. Dust collects on the TV stand and there are sandals by the door that leads to the back porch. 

Chewing your lip, you gently press your fingers to the door of Hanna’s bedroom, holding your breath. The sudden fear that it’s going to swing open and you’ll find your sister dead in her bed nearly incapacitates you, making the room spin a little as the door fully swings open. 

Nothing. No Hanna, no rotting smell of a dead body. Just an unmade bed in a room that smells vaguely of her cherry perfume, a bathroom with the door open, and a pile of clothes near the hamper.

The sight of the clothes on the floor and right next to the hamper slams you with a wave of nostalgia. You walk into the room and you unceremoniously plop yourself down on the edge of the bed. It sags underneath you but you don’t care, letting your face fall into your hands and letting a sob rip through you. 

Hanna isn’t here. You knew she wouldn’t be, but the relief that you don’t find her dead is so poignant that you can barely breathe past the snot clotting your nose and the way your throat constricts as you let out the fear. 

The sobs subside and you wipe your face, hands coming away sticky and wet. Through swollen eyes, you look around the room. With a wipe of your hands on your jeans, you get up and start looking around, pulling open drawers and looking for evidence of the last time that Hanna was in this home. 

It’s slow going. You’re unfamiliar with the space and you don’t know what to look for. It doesn’t seem like she had packed anything, but then again, how would you know if she did? 

There are signs that she hasn’t been in the house in weeks. Rotted food inside of the fridge, molded bread in the pantry. 

Outside, weeds grow around the steps. A cricket pops from the railing to the grass where its green body vanishes. The yard isn’t much of a yard - it’s open to the trees and a kudzu field to the west. 

Back inside, you grab Hanna’s keys and open her car. There is nothing inside that looks like she was trying to make a quick getaway. An extra pair of shoes shoved in the back, and an empty grocery bag she was using for trash - all normal things. 

In the passenger seat, you strike gold. 

Hanna’s journals and folders sit in the passenger seat, stacked in a leaning tower with pages sticking out from the edges of her books and slanted handwriting scrawled on the folder tabs. Gathering all of it, you head back inside and deposit the stack on the kitchen table before looking around the house again to see if there’s any sign of her. 

Something in your gut tells you that Hanna hasn’t been in the home for at least a month, if not more. 

Dread creeps into your stomach as you gather items and pack a bag. Your intention is to keep it on you at all times in the event that you find her cold and alone somewhere. The thought of needing it leaves a sour tang on your tongue, but you pack it nevertheless.

Bag over your shoulder and stack of Hanna’s investigative work in hand, you head off to your room at the motel. The afternoon sun still burns hot over your head, but you have no intention of sitting in the empty house that carries the scent of your sister’s absence. 

-

… While most historical accounts and official state documents indicate that Kill Devil was founded in 1730, journals buried deep in the city’s crumbling library have written records of townsfolk living in this settled town long before it was declared an official town. The journals reference the town as Covenstead and are filled with generations of the same family names. 

Booth. 

Park. 

Warren. 

Kim. 

Jung. 

Jeon. 

Min. 

Generations of these families settled in Covenstead and built what is now Kill Devil. From the description of the town in the collection of journals, it appears that the general layout of the town is similar to Kill Devil’s current city map. 

Throughout the journals, there is a reference to the Wood. It seems to be a place mentioned in reverence, and there are allusions to celebrations in the Wood with entries dated in alignment with sabbats on the Wheel of the Year. 

Only Mabon is referenced in any of the journals explicitly, in a strange entry from a man named Yoongi Min. I have written it here for safekeeping: We bringeth the little lamb to The Wood today for the honor of Mabon. I loathe seeing him go, for he hath brought cheer and many a smile to the Covenstead. May he bring us blessings and warmth in the winter. 

Your finger traces over your sister’s writing. She still writes in her cramped, crooked way, with the sabbats of pagan holidays crammed in the margins. You smile, biting your bottom lip again as you go through the written notes of her study. It is dizzying and you’re unsure what exactly you’re looking at, but something tickles the back of your mind as you reread the entry she copied from the long-dead Yoongi Min. There’s something you're missing.

This time, your eyes snag on a word. 

“The Covenstead,” you murmur, reading it over again. “Why would he call it the Covenstead? Is that just an older way of speaking?”

A tingle pricks your neck as you stare at the entry. You can’t understand what made your sister think this entry was odd besides the old-fashioned writing and reference to Mabon, because she writes nothing more on her analysis, and none of the journals she had been studying were anywhere you could find. 

Sighing, you push away her notebook and pull out a collection of folders and papers that she had on the town. It’s mostly renderings of the town in its heyday with maps and newspaper articles. There seems to be no correlation between her clippings of new business openings and random town news. 

Kill Devil Court House Gets New Building

Bird Flu? Poultry Farm in Trouble After Flock Dies

The Grove Neighborhood Building Plans Accepted by Mayor

Mayor’s Son Experiences Fatal Well Accident

Something catches your eye in the article about the mayor’s son who fell into a well and died at the bottom. You reach for your sister's notebook and flip to read the small dates shoved into the margins.

Mayor’s Son Experiences Fatal Well Accident

June 19, 1781

Litha: Summer Solstice

June 19-23

Grabbing the other newspaper clippings, you climb off of the bed and lay them flat against the sheets, each crinkling under the excited press of your fingers as your brain whirs. It’s a puzzle your sister seems to have figured out already, and one you don’t expect to understand.

But you do. 

Kill Devil Court House Gets New Building

February 14, 1899

Bird Flu? Poultry Farm in Trouble After Flock Dies

March 19, 1899

Ostara: Spring Equinox

March 19-22

You suck in a breath as you look at the next clipping, using your pointer finger to keep your place on the sabbats calendar your sister has written down to see that the article for the new neighborhood The Grove is dated only a month before the mayor's son fell tragically in the well. 

“Holy shit, Hanna,” you mutter, rubbing a hand over your mouth and staring with burning eyes at the dates. “They match with pagan rituals? Something good, followed by something bad… like revenge? Punishment? Payment?” 

The question bothers you. A flutter in your gut tells you that you’re asking the right questions as you stare at the pages, unseeing and trying to understand what your sister is getting at. She didn’t write down her thoughts explicitly - in case anyone stole her work, she’d said - and now you’re wishing she weren’t so paranoid. Or that she at least used a computer. 

It isn’t an easy answer to puzzle out. An ache has settled deep in your temples and your half-eaten dinner has long gone cold. You decide you’ve earned a shower, though you don’t go into the bathroom without the bug spray armed and ready. 

Briefly, you think about Hoseok. Such an oddity to the town. You can’t help but think about the way he changes from light to dark so quickly, face becoming shadowed and eyes masked, expression there and gone so quickly that you’re unsure if you saw it at all. 

Strange. It’s all very strange. 

-

There is a shadow in the parking lot again. This time, it’s closer. The bulb burning above the lot flickers, but stays on. The shadow stands just beyond the silver halo of light it distributes.

No moon hangs in the sky. It is dark dark dark - impossibly dark. You stare through a crack in your curtains, watching the shadow as it watches you. Dread weighs down the pit of your stomach and you feel a fresh wave of terror-laced nausea sweep through you. 

You slide a foot backward gently, preparing to step away from the window. The shadow twitches and cocks its head to the side, not unlike a dog curious about something it’s heard. You suck in a sharp breath and hold it in, air screaming in your lungs, heart racing a frantic staccato. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck it seems to say, beating until it’s all you can hear and feel, pumping your system so full of adrenaline that you feel light-headed. 

Your heart turns into a drum, frantic. It beats louder and louder and you feel rooted to your spot on the carpet, the soles of your feet surgical-stitched to the ugly shag carpet. You stare and stare and stare at the shadow and your heart is hammering so loud boom boom BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM-

Sweat-drenched and gasping for air, you sit up. Your heart pounds so hard you can feel it under the palm you have pressed against your chest. But the banging is coming from the hotel door, a steady stream of closed-fist hammering and Hoseok’s voice calling your name. 

Peeling the covers back from your damp skin, you stumble to the door, nightmare-drunk and disoriented. You forget to remove the chain from the door, yanking it open and immediately slamming it to a stop as the chain pulls, refusing to let the door open.

Hoseok is on the other side, hair slightly disheveled, brows pulled together. He’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants, a casual look by anyone’s standards but still effortlessly put together. 

“Shit, hold on,” you slur, tongue heavy in your mouth with sleep. Closing the door, you slide the chain out, then reopen it successfully. “Sorry, is everything-”

“What’s going on?”

“What?”

His gaze is thunderous as he looks past you into your room. “You were screaming at the top of your lungs.”

Heat flushes your neck and face. “I-I’m sorry. I was having a nightmare. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m not mad. What’s going on?”

In the shadow of the night, he looks dangerous, made up of edges and eyes narrowed. “Can I come in?” 

You open the door and move out of his way. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Out of habit, you latch the door when you shut it.

Hoseok is a little out of place in your room. Even when dressed down, he looks like he belongs on a private jet, lounging among soft, polished leather and sipping exotic coffee. Not in a rundown motel room with peeling wallpaper and smoke-stained ceilings. 

“What’s all this?” Your stomach plummets when he sees the journals and papers on your bed. you rush to shove it all under the blanket but Hoseok is fast, plucking a sheet of paper and looking over it, face pinched. “Is this what you meant by your sister studies the occult?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was just um- looking over her work.” 

“You know about the occult?”

“Not at all.”

He glances at you, razor-sharp. “Then why would you be looking it over for her?”

The atmosphere shifts. It occurs to you that he doesn’t know your sister is missing. Has no idea that you’re desperately trying to put together pieces of a broken puzzle, without any clue on where to find the remaining parts to view the entire picture. 

You weigh the options of lying, losing precious time as the silence hangs heavy and awkward between the two of you. He watches, brows raised and expectant, fingers gripping the paper. 

“My sister is missing.” It feels weird to say it. Your tongue feels heavy and as you stare over his shoulder at a fixed spot on the wall, it feels like someone else enters your body to tell him, “I came here because no one would help me find her. She was here studying the town's occult myths for work and vanished. I had this… horrible feeling when she stopped calling and answering.”

“Have you contacted the authorities?”

You scoff and throw a glare at him. “Of course I have. It’s useless and frustrating. No one seems to give a shit that there is a missing person, and every lawyer, law officer and city official I talk to don’t fucking care. It’s like they’re all programmed to give me the same answer. They keep telling me that they’ve seen her around or that she’s probably ignoring me on purpose. They make me seem crazy.”

You expect him to tell you to leave it to the authorities. That’s what Hanna’s boss had told you to do. No one seems to be alarmed, no one cares. But you do. Desperately. And you cannot wrap your head around them looking the other way. 

You’re preparing for the same reaction when Hoseok surprises you by saying, “You’re not crazy.”

“I’m not?”

He quirks a brow and his rosebud lips twitch in a smirk. “Well, you probably are. But not for this. Have you asked around town about her?”

You shake your head. “I only went to the house that she was staying at. I wanted to see if maybe she really was ignoring me or maybe just… I don’t know. In the zone for work. She wasn’t there and it doesn’t look like there was any sign of distress.” 

“Take me there.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.” He tosses the papers onto the pile on your bed. “We’ll be safe.”

“First of all,” you hedge. “How do I know that? I barely know you. Second of all, what is going there in the middle of the night going to help?”

“I’m good at investigating. Maybe I’ll see something that you don’t.”

“Sorry, are you a cop now?”

“No, it’s hard to explain but I promise I’m trying to help you.” When you don’t move, Hoseok grimaces. “Look,” he explains evenly. “I really am trying to help you. I haven’t been entirely honest about why I’m here in this town. I came because I was also interested in some things happening here. Now I’m worried your sister is involved.”

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. “Involved how?”

“I don’t know. I’m hoping it’s a coincidence. Believe it or not, those do happen. But I’d like to visit her house to see if there’s anything at all that sticks out to me.” You hesitate, chewing on your lip. You don’t really know him, and now you trust him even less with his reasoning. “Please,” he adds. 

You relent. “Fine.” Hanna is your main goal. You don’t trust Hoseok, but you wonder if he really can help you when no one else has. “Let’s go.” 

Damp air rushes through the open windows of your car. You lowered them as you got in for a quick escape if Hoseok attacks you while you drive. He says nothing in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the pine trees rushing behind you. 

Outside, the world is painted night-blue from the moon. There’s a weird hue to everything, making it feel as though you’re wading with heavy limbs through a dream. It’s no better when you arrive at the dark house.

It looks terrifying at night. There’s no street light to guide you, only that of the silver moon and the bright halogen lights of your car. You turn off your vehicle but switch the headlights on, turning on the high beams to shine on the house. 

On the edges of where the light fades to shadow, your fear lies. The trees look taller than in the daylight, their branches like craggy limbs and reaching fingers. Anxiety bubbles uncomfortably in your stomach. 

Each crunch of the grass beneath your feet falls too loud against the heavy silence. Here, you notice that the crickets are no longer singing. It’s just the hush of the wind gusting through the canyons and the far-away swell as it blows up the hills. 

Though it’s not cool outside, there’s a chill on your skin. Hoseok walks up to the house, the beams of the car’s headlights throwing his shadow across it in jarring, monstrous shapes. You keep your eyes focused on him and your keys tucked in your hand, ready to use them as a weapon if needed. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem concerned about your anxiety or the silence thrumming around the home. He walks up the steps and opens the door, vanishing into the dark mouth of the threshold. For a moment, you stand in the front yard, getting tunnel vision as you stare at the darkness in the doorway. 

You imagine stepping over the threshold into that cool dark, letting it suck you in. You imagine that as soon as your shoes hit the creaking floor, Hoseok will snatch you by the waist and pull you into the belly of the beast. Once in his clutches, he’ll throw you to the ground and the last thing you’ll remember is-

Hoseok reappears in the doorway. You blink and the waking nightmare melts away, so vivid that you’re shaking where you’re standing, looking at him in confusion. He hops down the stairs, scowling as he crosses the front lawn in a few long strides. 

He pauses when he sees your face. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I…” you shake your head, trying to dispel the weird vision you had a moment ago. “Nothing. I just don’t like the dark very much.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you find anything?”

His lip twitches. It’s almost impossible to detect, but you’re so focused on his face and trying not to picture him as the man in the terrifying thought you had moments ago, that you see it. “No.” 

Lying. He’s lying. You clutch your keys and your breath quickens. He moves to round the side of the car and take the passenger seat, but you step in front of him. He pulls up short, eyes narrowing as you stand between him and the vehicle, blood pumping. 

“I think you’re lying.”

“About what?”

“A lot of things.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“My instinct.”

He hums. “Instinct isn’t always a good thing.” He looks you up and down. “I didn’t find anything,” he says again. “I just got a really weird feeling inside of the house.”

“And?”

“And it’s the same weird feeling I’ve gotten in other places where people visiting went missing. Including the motel we’re staying at.” That makes you recoil. You feel the blood drain from your face, making you a little dizzy. You don’t know what’s going on, don’t understand what he’s getting at. “Your sister’s notes were about the covenstead here.”

That word again. The covenstead and not Covenstead, like a town name. “It was the town name before it was Kill Devil.” 

“No,” he corrects. “It was a landmark. A covenstead, for people who lived here. A coven.” 

“A coven.” He nods. “Like vampires and witches?” 

Hanna’s notes had included all of those pagan holidays crammed in the margins of her work. Marking dates of occurrences that coincided with sabbat holidays. “Hoseok,” you say slowly. “Are you telling me that a bunch of witches live here and have kidnapped my sister?”

He regards you for a moment, eyes flickering up and down. His face is unreadable and dark in the night air, eyes shadowed and haunting. “That’s actually exactly what I’m saying.”

“Witches aren’t real.” 

He frowns. “I can prove that they are.” 

“How?”

He gestures to the car. “Let’s go.” 

-

When you were younger, your sister always believed in magic. You remember spending all of October huddled on the couch with crocheted blankets, watching Halloween movies with the blanket pulled warm over scabbed knees, with popcorn-greased fingers tucked under heated thighs. Hanna always picked the movies - Halloween was her time of the year and you were happy to indulge. 

Hanna’s choices were always superb. Hocus Pocus received more airtime than anything else, replayed between Halloweentown one and two, Practical Magic, The Witches and The Addams Family among others. Every night of the month was crammed full of magic and spells and haunted houses, sweetened by candy corn and Butterfingers. 

Those were the nights that you loved the most. There was no fighting, no whining and crying over Hanna stealing your hair clips or you breaking her hair dryer. It was just the two of you, pressed skin-to-skin and spelled by the scrolling movies.

It’s as close to magic as you’ve ever been. You don’t think you were ever closer to her than in those moments. Under the blankets and the dim candles your mother lit, you were one being, melded. You knew when she would gasp at every jump scare and whisper each one of her favorite lines. 

Thinking back on it, you wonder if Hanna was onto something. She always insisted that parts of the movies had to be true. Stories are rooted in history, and though myth and legend changed with culture, colonization and the introduction of new religions, science and ideas, there was something about the concept of magic and spirit that felt real to her. 

It was why she went to school and majored in journalism with minors in folklore and history. She had even started a master's program for occult studies and folklore, spending late nights studying between traveling across the country from haunt to haunt for her job. 

Staring at her work on the bed of your hotel room as Hoseok adds some of his own notes and findings, you have never missed her more. There is a sudden ache inside of your chest, so strong that it takes your breath away. Your hand goes to the necklace at your neck, feeling flushed, heart pounding. 

Hoseok is explaining how there used to be a coven of witches that lived in the Wood long before Kill Devil existed. The Wood, Hoseok explains, is like a living and breathing conduit of power. It was something that gave the coven power but also needed to be fed. 

The Covenstead. You remember the journal entry that had called it the covenstead. A place where witches commune and live together as one functioning body of magic. That much power does things to a place, skews the way the world works a little bit. He gives examples of places all around the world with similar experiences: the Bermuda Triangle, Door To Hell, Reed Flute Cave. All places where an abundance of magic and energy warps the way life functions. 

But the Wood was strange before the witches got here. Hoseok rolls out a map, fingers tracing the lines of the city. Clarity snaps like a rubberband stinging against skin as you stare at it, lips parted, inhaling sharply. 

The city roads make a pentagram, and at the very center is the courthouse. 

“This is on purpose,” Hoseok explains. “There are other places in the world where the way the city or town or village is built is like a pentagram. Usually, these are called portals. They’re different from faerie rings which have their own power and distortions. These portals are for practicing witches and those who know how to use them.”

“Portals for what?”

“Creatures of great power that exist in worlds that don’t belong to us. Part of what gives witches their ability to perform magic is their energy. They are attuned to the world around them in a way that humans are not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you understand the concept of third and fourth dimensions?” 

“Third dimension is what we live in,” you answer mechanically, somewhat familiar with the idea. “If a fourth dimension existed, we wouldn’t know because it moves in a way that we are unable to perceive. The fourth dimension, in theory, is movement and sight we would never have.”

“Exactly. But witches are attuned to that. These pentagrams,” Hoseok murmurs, tapping the map. “Are made to connect to the fourth dimension. Pentagrams are not inherently evil or even paranormal, but similar to sacred geometry, they… radiate at a frequency that other dimensions do. Powerful symbols like this have existed since Mesopotamia.” 

“I… how does this prove that magic is real?”

For a moment, you’re distracted by the way Hoseok’s artful fingers pluck your sister's notebook from the bed. He flips until you’re looking at her journal entries and the newspaper clippings with dates and headlines. 

“Witchcraft is different in every culture and part of the world. These holidays have roots in Celtic and Welsh craft. It was brought over by the pilgrims when people fled England and traveled here. This is old - not as old as whatever lives in the Wood, but old enough that it’s powerful. These dates you’re looking at? They’re sacrifices to keep the Wood powerful.”

“How do you even know all of this?”

“I’ve studied it my entire life.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just something that runs in my family. We’re very spiritual people.” Something about the way his voice wavers makes you look at him sharply. Hoseok isn’t looking at you, busying himself with sifting through papers. There’s a pinch in your gut that makes you think he’s lying, but you’re afraid to push the matter. 

“Get some rest,” he says, breaking your exhausted train of thought. “We can talk more in the morning when you’re not exhausted.” 

“Yeah.” You rub your weary eyes. “Yeah, okay.” 

With Hoseok gone, you crawl into the bed, leaving the light on, staring off into the distance as your hand clutches your necklace. Your lip trembles and your throat constricts painfully. When you close your eyes, you feel tears slide down your face. 

Tucking your face into the pillow to hide your tears, you let out a small, aching sound. You just want to know where your sister is, and somehow you’ve landed in the middle of a hateful little town with strange little people and a strange little fantasy.

Crying is inevitable. But at least it puts you to sleep.

-

This time, you know you’re dreaming. You don’t know how you know, but you do. There’s a watery feeling to the hotel room when you open your eyes. As though you’re both there and you’re not.

You glance at the clock but the numbers are all wrong. You rub your eyes and look again, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t make sense of them.

You want to sit up. You move your arms - no, you try to move your arms. They don’t move, suddenly too heavy to slide under the covers of your blanket and peel it back. Panic sparks in you as you try to shift your legs, but though you can feel them, you can’t move them.

Terror as you’ve never known slides between your ribs, sharp and poignant. You can’t breathe and you know you’re dreaming and yet you can’t move. You close your eyes, brain repeating the same words over and over again: wake up wake up wake up wake up WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP-

It doesn’t happen. You open your eyes and your room still has the dream-glazed light to it, and you still can’t move. Something shifts in your peripheral vision. Your heart seizes in your chest so sharply you think you’ll die. 

You cannot turn your head to look at the shadow that moves just beyond your sight. Tears slip from your eyes, hot, wet and burning. You can’t wipe them. They blind you, turn your vision into an opaque, watery mess as something slides to the foot of your bed. 

When you feel the mattress dip, you try to scream. The sound is locked in your throat, with so much force behind it that you wait for your vocal cords to explode. The fear is raw now, your eyes wild, tears leaking as you mentally thrash and thrash and thrash. 

Weight shifts on either side of the bed and you have the sense that there is someone crawling on you but you can’t see beyond your crying, can’t hear beyond the pounding of your own heartbeat slamming in your ears, blocking out every other noise and-

Something invisible to you grips your throat. You still have the instinct to move, driving you to madness as your brain signals for your hands to fly to your assailant and yank and remove the hold on your neck. 

It’s crushing. You gasp for air, no noise coming out as the grip tightens, and you know with certainty that this is it. Whatever dream this is will kill you, this time. 

The realization that you’re going to die suddenly mutes the terror. It slides behind a glass door, beating its fists, but it's duller now. You have sharper clarity, and briefly you think of what Hoseok said about beings from the fourth dimension, and how the witches summon them through their craft here. To this place. Where you cannot perceive them. 

You wonder if this happened to Hanna. You miss her, your sister, with big dreams and fast smiles and a head full of magic and wondering. This, you think, is how you go. And perhaps you’ll join her. 

Thoughts blend together, sloshed wine in a glass. They’re warm and liquid and have no shape to them, no real purpose. It’s like you know you’re thinking, but you don’t know of what. Darkness pools at the edge of your vision. It feels cold and alone but you drift toward it, away from the pain. 

And then you can breathe. 

Air comes sweeping in, forcing its way into your mouth, into your lungs. Your lungs inflate so painfully that for a split second, you think they’re on fire. Oxygen burns its way through you and bursts of color explode on the canvas of your closed eyes - you don’t remember closing your eyes. 

You roll over in bed, coughing, mouth wet with spit and phlegm as you try to gulp in as much air as you can. 

High-pitched ringing whines in your ears, and there are muffled sounds on the other end of it. The motel room tilts back into vision, melting into place. You think that the room has reloaded into your world wrong - everything is crooked. 

Then you realize you’re laying on your side, gagging and gasping for air. There is a hand against to your back, palm cold, fingertips freezing. The touch, you realize, feels full of energy, your spine tingling where it’s pressed against you. 

Lurching away from the touch, you roll to the side of the bed, looking at the person whose hand had been pressed against you. 

Hoseok’s tangled in the sheets, hair a mess, shirtless and in sweats. He’s panting, flushed, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his body. But it’s his eyes that stop you from scrambling away. They’re dark, burning like two pieces of coal as he looks at you, kneeling with his hands in his lap, palms facing the ceiling. 

Hoseok says something. The ringing in your ears has just started to die down and you shake your head, unsure of what he means and not confident in your ability to speak. 

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck just happened to me?”

“This is my fault, I’m so sorry.”

“What?” 

He lifts his hands and you flinch. The look on his face is pure heartbreak, shrouded in golden light. “Please,” he murmurs. “Let me help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

It’s quiet, save for the sound of the humming air conditioner. 

Trust your gut, your sister had said. 

So you do because he’s offered to help you thus far. You nod, giving him access to you. He sags in relief, shuffling forward tentatively as he takes your face in his hands. His palms are impossibly warm. Your eyes flutter shut at the touch, unable to look at him this close, this boy of light and something, as he cradles your face. 

Warmth pools in your face, saturating down to your neck and chest. The ache in your lungs eases, and the lump in your throat continues to recede. You don’t want to ask what he’s doing. You don’t want to think. You don’t want to feel the terror of moments ago ever again, and with the way Hoseok is touching you, so close that his breath fans your brow, and you can smell him like rain and lavender, you want to embrace it. 

There’s no thought process to the way you lean up into him. Your eyes are closed, your breath shaking as you seek him. Hoseok makes a surprised noise, but it vanishes as you press your lips against his.

Relief sweeps through you. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before, every drop of terror fading away, momentarily forgotten. Every ache vanishes. It’s just Hoseok and the way he burns brighter than the sun, and the way it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

After a brief moment of hesitation, he kisses you back. It’s sweet and soft-lipped, his fingers pressing into the side of your face gently as he pulls you to him. You follow his pull, both physically and something like a tether, getting up on your knees to get closer. 

Hoseok breaks the kiss, nose brushing yours. You open your eyes, half-lidded and feeling dizzy from just the gentle press of lips. His eyes are dark, but you see the light flecks of brown in them, like an entire world of sun and stars exist in their depths. 

“Make it go away,” you whisper.

You don’t specify. The pain, the nightmares, the fear, the weird town, the worry about your sister. You want it all to stop and this person you barely know - you feel as though he can take it away. Or mute it. 

He nods, eyes closing as he kisses you properly. You forget what you were worried about, and it’s all you can do not to fall headfirst into Hoseok. His mouth is warm and wet, tongue soft but greedy as he pries your mouth open, drinking you in. 

Hoseok’s lips tingle against yours, sending a shiver skating down your spine. You wrap your hands around his neck, fingers tangling in the silky strands there. He hums appreciatively when your nails slow-scratch at the base of his scalp. 

Carefully, Hoseok shuffles you into his lap. Your knees dip on the mattress on either side of his hips, straddling his waist. His hands find the hem of your sleep shirt and pull upward. You break the kiss, a string of spit connecting your flushed mouths before the garment breaks it.

The room is cold, air hitting your bare chest and hardening your nipples immediately. You whine but Hoseok is fast, pressing your chest to his as he attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking at the tender flesh sharply. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, letting your head drop backward heavily. Your eyes are shut and the world feels like it’s spinning. He has one hand on your hip, the other on the small of your back, pressing you to him to keep you warm and to rock your hips gently into his. “Feels good.”

He hums in response, sucking wet stains onto your flesh as he moves toward your chest. You push your tits out to meet his searching mouth, gasping lightly when the rough drag of his tongue swipes across your nipple. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Your fingers dig into the back of his neck as Hoseok sucks your peak greedily. You’re grinding into his lap on your own now, panties clinging to your hot, sticky folds as you seek friction. He’s hard beneath you and you want to feel him. 

Letting you rut in his lap, Hoseok drags delicate fingers over the curve of your ass and thigh, and his nails leave goosebumps in their wake. The feeling between your legs and at the base of your spine is heady as he lets go of one nipple with a sharp pop, tongue tracing a sloppy line to the other. 

Hoseok’s teeth tease the tight bud and you whine. “Oh?” he asks, voice rough and low. “Gonna be a baby about it?”

You shake your head, but your lip juts out as you look at him, dazed. “Want more.”

“Tell me.”

Dropping one hand from his neck, you take the hand resting on your thigh, guiding it between your legs. Hoseok presses the pads of his fingers to your underwear and you let out a keen. It’s not nearly enough, but the pressure sends another wave of arousal flooding through you. 

“Hmm,” he hums, dragging his fingers back and forth over the damp cloth. “Soaked from just that, huh?” You nod and he bites your collarbone. Fuck, he’s going to kill you, sending another tremble down your frame. He hooks a finger in your underwear, sliding against your glossy folds experimentally and he curses, “Fuck. Pussy is already messy and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please.”

“What do you want? I already asked.”

“More.” Hoseok presses your clit, letting you drip onto his fingers, but he doesn’t move them. You grit your teeth. “Want your fingers,” you ask through clenched teeth. “Fuck me with them, anything. Please.” 

He grins, face wicked before he kisses your nose. “See, you just had to tell me.” 

You’re tense as he pulls your underwear to the side, shoving the fabric against your thigh. Cool air hits your cunt. You can’t recall ever wanting someone like this, vibrating uncontrollably as he traces your slit with his fingers, lazily circling your clit.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you drop your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder. He lets you sag against him as he plays with your pussy, fingers barely dipping to tease your hole and gather juices before coming back to trace your clit, applying delicious pressure. 

It feels so good. It’s mind-numbing, letting him do what he wants. Hoseok pants in your ear, breathing stilted between chaste kisses against the side of your head. 

Painfully slow, Hoseok inserts a single finger into your wet heat. The sound you let out is high-pitched and loud. It’s not nearly enough, but you lose all sense of asking for more as his finger slides in deep, pressing against your front wall to massage that delicate spot inside of you.

“Oh shit,” you stutter, unable to help it. 

He laughs, voice deep when he asks, “Yeah? That the spot?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He slow-drags his finger in and out of your pussy, fucking you slowly. He curses, teasing you only for a moment before he gifts you another. The stretch is so much better, and you melt. He thrusts leisurely, not hard and fast but deep. Your walls swallow his fingers, gripping them and begging him not to stop as a tight coil winds in your stomach as he presses hard against your g-spot.

It’s messy, the wet drag of his fingers in your cunt. You feel the slow drip of arousal every time he pulls back, soaking his hand. It drops down your thighs as he picks up the pace. You lift your hips a little, adding a bounce to his motions. 

“Oh? You wanna do it?” He stops moving his hand and you let out a desperate sound. He laughs. “No, go ahead. If you’re so eager, do it yourself. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Seeking balance by holding his shoulders, you grip him tight, face tucked in his neck as you maneuver yourself, using your knees to lightly fuck yourself on his fingers. It feels so good, and you adjust the angle until you feel him hit that spot again, making you see stars. 

It’s electric, this feeling rippling in your bloodstream. It feels different with Hoseok and you can’t place why, but your orgasm is building so sharply in your stomach that you nearly stop thrusting, overwhelmed by the sensation. 

The pressure in your stomach winds and winds and winds until it snaps, every muscle in your thighs and ass squeezing tight, your hands turning to an iron grip, breath stuck in your lungs as you let out a strangled sound, squeezing Hoseok’s fingers as you come. 

Hoseok is whispering something in your ear, but you can’t hear him over the thundering heartbeat of your pulse, shaking as you come down from your high. When you do, you’re vaguely aware that he’s pulled his fingers out, but he’s massaging the tight ring of muscles, making you shiver.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Wanna see you stretch yourself on my cock like that.”

“Wanna,” you mumbled. 

Your limbs are heavy and lazy as you shuffle, uncoordinated. Hoseok laughs, finding you endearing as you scowl and shift off his lap. His touch is featherlight as he pulls your panties off. You need him, completely naked and shivering as your eyes drop from the smooth, carved planes of his chest and abs to the heavy imprint of his cock in his sweats.

And the wet stain mess you’ve made. 

Flushed, you watch as he looks up at you, smirking. “Go on.” 

Scooting toward him with eager hands, you rest with your feet tucked under you. Dipping your touch below his waistband, you grasp him firmly, cock heavy in your hand. He sighs, head tilting back a little while you slide your grip along his shaft.

Brushing your thumb over his tip to collect hot, sticky precum, you spread it, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you stroke him gently, testing the waters. His hips twitch and his mouth parts, gold light of the lamp turning him into Giovanni’s Apollo. He is ethereal, a burning sun and you suddenly understand why Icarus flew to his demise.

Maybe you will too. 

With your other hand, you push Hoseok’s sweats down. Though you could feel the size and swollen weight of him in your hand, it’s still a marvel when you see his thick length, dark tip oozing precum. 

A hiss escapes his teeth when you give him a firm squeeze. He lets you pump him lazily, and your mouth catches the underside of his jaw, teething and sucking sharp marks into his skin. He tastes like something electric and a little bit of sweat, your tongue buzzing. 

“Hmm,” he hums, fingers gripping the back of your neck to pull your mouth back up to his. It’s more spit and him gasping into your mouth more than anything. “You know how stunning you are?”

You feel heat creep up in your cheeks. Hoseok shuffles away from you and you let go of your grip on him, watching his dick slap against his stomach, smearing precum. He sits near the headboard, leaning against the wallpaper and staring at you with hungry eyes. 

“You’re going to make me shy,” you say softly, though you still crawl toward him. You can feel the slick slide of your inner thighs. He pumps his cock lazily, giving you a look that says he doesn’t believe you. “You’re pretty.”

“Think so?”

You nod, a little light-headed and uneven. You tilt toward the side and he catches you, hands sticky from your mixed arousal. Bending down, you capture his lips. Hoseok runs the crown of his cock through your folds and you moan, lips parting. He drinks in your sounds, licking them from the roof of your mouth. 

For a moment, it’s just the teasing and sloppy kissing, pausing to pant into each other's mouths, slick from sweat. He presses the blunt head of his dick into your hole, dipping only a little before retreating and sliding back up to tease your clit.

“Hoseok,” you growl, biting on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the iron tang blooming in your mouth. He hisses out a laugh and does it again. This time, you lower your pussy, trying to catch him on an angle to sink down on him. “Stoooop.”

“Whiny baby,” he teases again. “Cock-hungry, huh?”

“Wanna be full.”

“Mmm.”

Hoseok repeats the motion, but this time lets you sink slowly on the length of him. The stretch stings, hurt-laced pleasure as you suck in a sharp breath and hold it. It feels like your lungs might burst, shaking as you slide down until your ass rests on his damp thighs and you feel the tip of his cock deep in your gut. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, leaning forward, palms pressed to his shoulders. They slide a little, his skin warm and sweaty. You dig your nails in for purchase and he sucks in a sharp breath, but lets you claw your way back to sanity from the feeling. “Deep.”

His hands find purchase on your ass, digging in and massaging. “Come on, then. You were so eager for my fingers.” 

You lift your hips a little, the slide delicious against your warm walls, and drop down with a wet smack. You both moan at that and you grin, putting the weight into Hoseok’s shoulders as you lift your hips again, hypnotized by the wet schlick of your cunt sliding on his length. 

Everything fades away again. Your thighs burn as you increase your movements, chasing the buzz that has settled deep in your stomach. Hoseok lets you use him, his eyes fixed on the way your cunt drips into his lap. 

His nails bite into the meat of your ass and you feel dragged under by the pleasure, the sting of his grip and the pressure of his cock hitting your g-spot sending you further and further.

Your legs grow a little tired, movements sloppy. Hoseok doesn’t mind, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting upward to meet you, hands supporting your weight under your ass. He helps lift you, pulling you up and down until you’re mumbling incoherently. 

It feels mind-numbingly good, and the tension in your stomach grows taught and tight, your second orgasm oncoming. 

“Come on,” Hoseok demands between clenched teeth. “Give it to me.” 

You nod, sliding a hand between your thighs, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure and speed to get you shaking again. White spots appear in your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut, letting him take over and fuck up into you, cunt gushing as you come hard enough around him that you fall forward. 

Hoseok lets you lay on his chest, dead weight as he claws at your ass and thighs, rutting up into you. You’re dimly aware of the soaked mess of your smacking bodies, but your ears are ringing and you feel lighter than you’ve ever felt before. 

You begin to whine in oversensitivity just as Hoseok slams into you as deep as he can, cock twitching and filling you up. You shiver as he grunts, hips bucking with a wet squelch as he gently fucks you through his orgasm.

Both of you lay there in a messy pile as his cock softens inside of you. Cum pools between your pressed bodies, but you don’t care. The room is humid, the light dim with the haze of how far gone you feel. Hoseok traces soft circles on your hips with his fingers. Your mouth is pressed against his jaw, breath kissing his skin. 

You could fall asleep here, you think. It’s nice to forget for a while, to let your body feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, the shaking of his thighs against yours, the ache in your muscles. 

Heaviness tugs at you, so close to pulling you under, but Hoseok stirs. You feel drunk, letting him peel the two of you apart until you’re stumbling to the shower. The air makes your tacky, cum-covered skin cold. 

It’s hard to fit both of you in the shower, but you manage it, rotating under the rough spray of the hot water, hands exploring and kneading sore muscles. Your lips are abused and feel bruised, but it doesn’t stop you from seeking the comfort of his mouth, the world turning to static every time you kiss him. 

The motel room smells like sex and sweat when you return to peel clothes back on. Wordlessly, Hoseok takes your hand and leads you to his room on the other side of the wall. It has the same faded wallpaper, the same dusty and stained lampshades, but it looks more lived in.

There are added pieces in the room. A dehumidifier hums in the corner, and there is a hamper full of clothes. Hoseok has added plants near the window, plasticky leaves vibrant green and shiny. Burnt-out incense sits on the plastic folding table he’s erected, books and papers splayed out over its surface. There’s a collection of crystals you can’t identify.

An inviting bed beckons you. You both fall into it, heavy-limbed and sighing. It smells like Hoseok, a mix of rain and lavender. There’s a sense of trepidation as you roll over on the mattress.

Carefully, Hoseok pulls you to him. He presses your back to his chest, one arm going under his head as he yawns and smacks his lips lightly, the other looping over your waist.  

“No one is going to bother you,” he sleep-slurs. “I got rid of them. And they won’t go against me.”

You hum, sleep crawling up and stealing your thoughts. You wonder how he got rid of them and why they’re afraid of him. 

It isn’t until he mumbles a response that you realize you’ve spoken your question out loud. “Because,” he sighs, words slow and soft, as he drifts off to sleep. “I told them you’re mine.” 

Hoseok’s words are lost on you because you’re long asleep. 

-

No dreams disturb you. When you wake up, you feel the weight of the night before on you. It’s cool and empty behind you as you startle, realizing you’d fallen asleep with Hoseok there. You look over your shoulder, blinking away sleep, and see that it’s just you in the dark room.

From the bathroom, you can hear the shower. You relax a little, groaning as you roll to your back and stare up at the popcorn-textured ceiling. Your thighs still burn with the soreness from the night before and you bite your bottom lip, trying to conceal your grin. 

Gently, you bring your hand to prod at your neck where it had hurt so much last night. You remember the lock-limb nightmare, the feeling of needing to scream. The thought that you were dying. 

Hoseok had saved you, but it begged the question of how. You remember asking him last night, but you cannot remember what he answered. You’re also surprised to find that you’re not in any pain from whoever or whatever had attacked you. 

Unease turns your stomach but you decide to crawl out of his bed, wandering around his room. A salt lamp casts an orange glow on his makeshift desk. You’re drawn to the mess on top of it, looking at the stacks of books and frowning. They’re not in English - or any language that you know, embossed symbols and shapes on the covers and cracked spines. 

Lifting a heavy, green canvas book, you flip it over in your hands. The edges of the paper are yellow and oxidized with time and there is a gold symbol pressed on the front. Your fingers trace the groove, remembering what Hoseok said the day before about sacred geometry. 

Putting it down, you select another book. It has a pentagram on it. When you flip the book open, the pages are filled with slanted writing, diagrams, and shapes. You recognize sabbat dates and stop when you get to a picture of interlocking shapes. You trace the symbol absently, wondering what it means. 

Why does he have books like this? 

A current of electricity slides up the finger that’s tracing the symbol. You squeak in surprise and drop it, cringing at the loud clatter that it makes against the table. The shower flips off and you look at the shut door. Hoseok moves around before opening the door, sticking his head out. He’s dripping in water, hair slicked back, golden skin glistening. 

Despite the night before, you avert your eyes, shy. He doesn’t notice or doesn’t say anything, instead asking. “You okay?” He glances down at the books. “Good luck reading those.” 

“Yeah,” you answer absently.

He grins. “Be out in a second.”

When Hoseok shuts the door, you feel unsettled. Rubbing your arms to fend off a sudden chill, you continue looking through the things on his table. There’s a small glass case with the exoskeleton of a frog. You cringe, thinking about Hoseok’s pet frog awaiting death in his pitcher plants.

Hoseok’s phone starts vibrating on the desk, making you gasp. Your hand goes to your chest, feeling the way your heart pounds violently against your rib cage. Looking at the screen, you see that someone named Yoongi is calling him. 

You hesitate, cocking your head. The name rings familiar, and you watch as the call goes to voicemail. The screen fades to black but you keep staring at it. Not for the first time on your trip, you get the sense that you’re missing something, that there is something right there. 

A text from Yoongi comes in, lighting up the screen. 

Jung, you better not be fucking around with your prey again. We need to prepare. 

It doesn’t sit well with you. When the screen goes dark, you tap it, bringing up the preview. What the hell does Yoongi mean fucking around with your prey? And what are they preparing for? You swear you remember the name Yoongi, retracing your thoughts. 

You feel the blood drain from your face. You do know that name. 

“Yoongi was so mad he wouldn’t talk to me for a week.”

“What?” you had asked him. “Your cat talks?”

“Oh- he- well he meows, you know what I mean?”

Slowly, you stiffen, remembering Hoseok’s words after breakfast. It had seemed silly then, that Hoseok was talking about a cat. But it’s not the only place you’ve seen Yoongi’s name. 

Trust your gut, your sister always said. 

You look at the bathroom door once before turning on your heel and creep from the room. You pull the front door open slowly, wincing and holding your breath as the outside world makes noise. Slipping through, you’re careful not to let the door click loudly before running to your room. 

With the same care, you shut your door, flipping the bolt lock and sliding the chain in the door. The room feels like it’s spinning, your tunnel vision making you dizzy as you sweep your gaze back and forth, looking for the piles of your sister's research. It’s sitting on the floor, shoved off the bed where you let him fuck you last night. 

The urge to vomit flips your stomach as you dive for the papers, riffling through them and scanning, feverish and sweaty. You find the entry you want, finger pressing to the page as you read it multiple times, fear making the words tangle.

Only Mabon is referenced in any of the journals explicitly, in a strange entry from a man named Yoongi Min. I have written it here for safekeeping: We bringeth the little lamb to The Wood today for the honor of Mabon. I loathe to see him go, for he hath brought cheer and many a smile to the Covenstead. May he bring us blessings and warmth in the winter. 

Yoongi. 

A sick feeling coils in your stomach as your hands tremble, eyes scanning the list of names your sister scribbled out as old families in Kill Devil. There’s another one you remember, the one that Yoongi used in his text to Hoseok. 

Booth. 

Park. 

Warren. 

Kim. 

Jung. 

Jeon.

Min.

A shaking hand presses to your mouth. Jung. “Fuck,” you squeak, looking at the wall separating you from Hoseok’s room.

It occurs to you that all this time, you thought the citizens were looking at Hoseok with contempt. How easily hatred can be confused for fear. Hoseok, who had shown up every time you were having a night terror. Who seemingly knew all the right things to do to ease you.

Hoseok, who had flashes of darkness that terrified you. Whose expression could go blank as he thought about something, but flip on a dime to a bright, sunny boy. Hoseok, whose presence always gave you a weird tingle, triggering some sort of instinct you couldn’t place. 

Something happens then. With absolute certainty and a razor-sharp resolve that you’ve never experienced, you know your sister is dead. Perhaps you’ve always known. The sudden burning of your locket that night two months ago, the way that it looks like she ceased to exist. The eerie feeling dogging you, nipping at your heels. 

Hanna is dead. The pain is only sharp for a second, a slice of agony as you bend over, arms wrapped around your stomach as you let out a silent scream. The grief is powerful but abrupt as you hear Hoseok call your name on the other side of the wall. 

You stand. Because now you can’t mourn. Now, you must leave as quickly as possible. Because you hadn’t been trusting your gut, ignoring that weird little sense of something wrong. 

Now isn’t the time to scream over what you know. Now you must get away from-

“Was it the books or the phone call?” 

You whirl around. Hoseok is leaning against the wall by the door. The bolt is still flipped and the chain is still in place. You’re frozen to the spot, staring at him. He looks at the papers on the floor and back to you, smirk razor-sharp. Of course, he could get into the room without opening the lock. 

All of the features you thought were beautiful are suddenly terrifying. “It took you way too long to puzzle it together, but I guess you’re not nearly as smart as Hanna.” You open your mouth but nothing comes out, throat constricted. “You were so easy to convince though, so I guess that’s something.”

“I don’t…” your voice is raspy, shaking. 

“When you kept calling the city officials, I knew it was only time before you showed up here. I’ve been living in this fucking shit hole waiting.” He tsks and shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Took you forever.”

“The citizens?”

“Stay out of my way and stay out of the Wood. They’re the frogs I let live, so long as I find other ones.”

“Why?” you ask, shaking your head. It’s the only question you can think of. It’s the only question that matters: whywhywhywhy. “Why help me?”

“Sometimes a predator likes to play with its prey.” 

It dawns on you that he had said as much at breakfast while he was tracing symbols on the table. He had been talking about his frogs, but he had been talking about you too. How many signs had you missed because he fucking smiled at you? Something dangerous lurking behind light flirting. 

He points to himself. “Pitcher plant.” He points at you with a grin. “Frog. Ribbit.”

“Fuck you,” you snarl, fear replaced by a hatred that burns so hot the edges of your vision flash red. But it isn’t him you’re mad at. It’s you. For being so easily deceived. For being so casually influenced in a matter of days. “Fuck you, and your fucking town.” 

“I did fuck you. You were special, though. I hope that makes you feel better. Didn’t fuck your sister. You’re cute, and I had time to spare.” 

“All of this for what? To get off on the chase? The manipulation?”

He scoffs. “I already told you what this place is. It isn’t my fault you didn’t put it together. I almost hand-fed it to you. The Wood gives us power, and the Wood needs sacrifices.” Hoseok pushes himself off of the wall, his smile like the first light of the morning sun. “I’m taking you to the Wood.”

#hoseok smut #hobi smut #j hope smut #hoseok fanfic #j hope fanfic #bts fanfic #hobi fanfic #hoseok x reader #j hope x reader #minors dni #j hope x you #hobi x you #sailoryooons

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 3

/ 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. As promised slowly we are going into the chapters where Yoongi will be taking the main lead. If you want to join the tag list let me know!

After you had your hot bath and a glass of wine that turned into a whole bottle, tiredness of the whole event took over making you pass out on the couch. The fact was you also couldn’t bring yourself to go into the bedroom and fall asleep next to Hobi. You had yet to make sense of everything, but already your gut was telling you that all this new information was going to be a sticky deal. You dreaded that what Jungkook said is fully true and you didn’t know if you could pretend and ignore the facts.

You loved your fiancé with all your heart but could you be ok with him being dirty? Maybe if he had told you, maybe if he would not hide the fact he was entangled with the mafia and gave you a sensible explanation to all of it. You just didn’t know, because one thing you really hated was dishonesty. You could handle a lot of bad shit people have done or were doing as long as you knew about it. Once someone hid the truth from you it was a different story. You always believed the ugliest of truths was better than the prettiest of lies and this was a fucking hill you were willing to die on.

You felt a slight tingle on your cheek. A nice and warm feeling coming after it. Shutting your eyes harder and scrunching your nose you let out a quiet mumble as you felt an ache spread over your muscles. Last nights events surely strained your back. The decision to sleep on the couch did not help that matter as well.

Suddenly you felt a delicate kiss on your neck and then another one. You slowly opened your eyes to see Hobi sitting on the edge and leaning over you. Once your eyes met he gave you his sunshine smile and smoothed your hair back gently saying quietly “Hey. You slept on the couch?” his face had a bit of concern written over it. “Morning…” you croaked, your throat being dry from all the wine you consumed “Yea… I came back really late from that whole medical emergency. I drank some wine and passed out. I also didn’t wanna wake you…”

He hummed slightly soothing your cheek with his hand and grabbing a mug from the small table in-front of you. “Cold brew” he said smiling and passing the cup to you. Lifting yourself on your elbows you gladly drank the coffee, caffeine being exactly what you needed. While downing the brown liquid of life, your brain went back to yesterdays information about your fiancé that has been brutally thrown at you.

Seeing you’ve spaced out, he looked at you asking “You ok Y/N?” you shook your head throwing the intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind. You weren’t ready to confront him. Not yet. Matter of fact you didn’t believe that laying it out just like that would be a smart move. You had to plan it out safely. You could not draw suspicions and give him the option to lie himself out of trouble if what you heard about him would turn out to be true.

“Yes I’m fine.” you said forcing a smile. You had to keep your cool. He was a detective. You could not let him sense out that something was wrong. “I’m still sleepy a bit. Didn’t fully wake up yet” you cooed sitting yourself up completely.

Hoseok looked at you as if he was analyzing what you were saying but then he smiled nodding his head. “Not woken up yet hm?” he moved a bit closer to you, taking the mug out of your hands and setting it aside. You blinked a little raising an eyebrow “I’ve got just the thing to wake you up…” he said with a deep voice, a smirk painting over his lips as he leaned in to kiss your neck.

“Shit…” you thought to yourself as you didn’t think threw what to do if a situation like this occurred. Should you pressure that you are tired and not in the mood? Or should you play along? You actually didn’t know for a fact if Hobi was 100% a dirty cop and you wouldn’t be sure of it for some time. You were stressed out and needed to shut off your panicked mind. Giving in seemed like a really good idea. So once you felt his lips on you did just that.

A suppressed moan rolled out off your mouth as he licked down the skin of your throat. You weren’t aware how much you needed to be touched and just let yourself be careless at this very moment. “Told you I would get your blood flowing.” he groaned grabbing your chin and kissing you hungrily. You leaned your head back opening your mouth allowing his tongue to enter. You could feel him smiling, clearly happy about how you reacted to him.

Soon you were both out of your clothes and catching your racing breaths. Your mind still battling with the fact that Hobi might not be who you thought he was. But as his skillful fingers reached your wet core you decided to forget about it all for now. You pushed him down on the soft cushions and climbed onto him.

“So needy…” he chimed but you put your hands on his toned chest, letting your nails gently scratch over his perfect skin “Yea… so you better fuck me good Hoba!” you let the words fall out from your lips. There was no need to ask him again as you lowered yourself onto his already very hard member, deep moans coming out from both of you.

Grabbing your hips he stared thrusting into you, meeting your needy movements. Your breaths got shaky and uneven. As you bounced yourself to the sound of your bodies connecting you slightly wrapped your hand around his neck. You didn’t know what got into you. You never let yourself get too pushy with Hoseok. He was never really the rough type.

A bit shocked by your action he lifted himself into a sitting position, grabbing your back to make sure you didn’t come off of him. He continued to push deep into you as you moved your hand to his nape, not wanting to let yourself get anymore wild ideas. A knot in the bottom of your belly started to form. You pushed your hips back and forth hard into him seeking your release.

Loud groans and breaths slipping out from your mouthes. This time around all you wanted was to feel the pleasure to crash all over you. It was the only thing that mattered. You didn’t care to get intimate or sensual. You just wanted your mind blown so you could forget everything from that night, at least for a while.

So you kept the tempo, fucking your fiancé hard and fast until you both felt your bodies shaking from the short but strong release. You leaned your forehead on his chest catching your breath and not yet lifting off of him. You could feel him getting soft inside of you. He pushed your hair back from your sweaty face, saying with a slightly amused tone “well someone was in a rush today”.

Finally getting up you smiled with the corner of your lips “I guess I couldn’t wait since we didn’t get to have our fun for a while now…” you lied a bit. Truth be told you just wanted your needs fulfilled as soon as possible, so you didn’t have to be close to him for too long. You knew you were being a bit of a hypocrite, for not being honest with him. But he was the one who decided to hide things from you, so you felt you were allowed to bend the standards a bit.

Your gut was telling you that you couldn’t really trust him, that he was not being open and those facts taunted you. That is why you decided to start weaving a web of lies to shelter yourself. You could feel your morals screaming in your skull. This wasn’t like you. But you were angry, confused and fucking scared. Petrified that you were about to have your life blown up into flames and crumbled. You really had a lot to think threw. The realization that you probably will be facing some extremely hard decisions made anxiety slap you in the face.

* * * * * * * * *

The next days at work passed surprisingly well. You and Jungkook had an unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened. At least for now. Both of you didn’t direct any of the conversations towards that nights events. Luckily you were also pretty busy at the hospital.

You decided to take up extra shifts to the maximum and cover for some of your colleges. This meant you wouldn’t see Hoseok much those days. You knew you were procrastinating, but you needed to set your mind straight before making any meaningful moves and this seemed like the perfect way to do it.

Taking more on calls also meant you would get a couple days off after. You felt those would do you well and that you would then start your questioning of Hobi. Also you thought it would be good to simply go shopping and try to do the down-to earth little things to clear your racing mind and ready yourself for the tasks ahead.

You and Kook also coordinated work with the charities in such a way that you got to have the next week away from them. After all that unraveled, both of you had to fix up and manage some things in your private lives. You suspected Jungkook very much like yourself tried to ignore and push away everything that went down in that forsaken hangar. You could see he was trying hard to maintain your friendship and fix the trust he has thoughtlessly broken. But for the time being you felt other than hospital work, you needed a break from him.

* * * * * * * * *

As the final day of work before your days off passed, you could feel the anxiousness crawl up you skin. You were happy to take time for yourself but it also meant that you should start your head hunt for the truth about your fiancé. To say you were dreading that moment was an understatement. Your mind was already slowly making assessment and plans in case the accusations towards Hoseok were correct. All this shit daunted you.

Even tho you were a bit scared of the confrontation you gladly made your way back home after a long and hard day at work. Once you jumped out of the buss a couple of blocks away from your apartment, a strange feeling washed over you. Shaking it off, you turned around to check your surroundings. Nothing seemed suspicious so you shrugged, thinking it must be the anxiety toying with your tired brain.

As you were about to pass next to the alley of your apartments building, a tall figure walked out in front of you and blocked your way. Your heart dropped as you heard “Good evening doc…”. Namjoon was standing right there and looking down at you with his annoying smirk, that seemed constantly plastered to his face. If you wouldn’t know any better you would’ve surely slapped him, because of how he made your blood boil.

You could hear steps behind you as well. You turned your face to the side, so you could make out with the corner of your eye who it was. You recognized the shorter guy but the other one you did not recall seeing ever before. He was tall like Joon and had a look about him as if he has just stepped out of a GQ magazine.

“Oh wow not only is she talented but also pretty ey?” he spoke in a low, velvety voice. “Knock it off Tae, we are here to take her to the boss, not to romance her!” the low voiced brunette shook his head in disappointment and said “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t wanna find out what those capable hands could do. You know that surgeons have the steadiest of hands? Only imagine…”

You couldn’t take it anymore so you snapped “We also know how to use sharp scalpels!” the man laughed a little and winked at you clearly amused. You tried to walk off saying “And I am surely not going anywhere with your lot, so be so kind and fuck off! You have Jungook!”

You were only able to make a step before Namjoon skillfully grabbed your elbow and painfully yanked it, causing you to hiss. “I wasn’t asking doc, so now you’re gonna shut your pretty little mouth and get in the car!” he whispered angrily in your ear and stared at you warningly. You were sure if you tried something, maybe you would get away but the later consequences could be not worth it.

You ripped your arm from his grip and gave him a side eye while gritting your teeth. Now aware that you better cooperate, altho that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in you. The fuck was their whole deal? Why did they have to bother you instead of your college. Taehyung opened the back door of the black SUV and moved his hand towards the seats in a welcoming way. If the circumstances were different you’d almost feel like some movie star. But the fact was, you knew you were about to get into deep shit.

Sighing you jumped into the car. “Jimin get in the back with her just in case she tries something” Joon said to the shortest male, who kept quiet until now. He sat next to you, his eyes scanned over you as he said quietly “Soon it will all be behind you. Just don’t make it more difficult than it needs to be…” his voice had a specific ring to it. You just gave him an angry eye roll, barely controlling yourself from telling them to eat shit and die.

Closing your eyes you waited for the drive to be over. You did your best to ignore the men who seemed to not be able to shut their mouths for even a minute. You just wanted it to be done. Go do whatever they wanted you to do and leave. Slowly your mind was starting to wonder towards considering moving back to your home country, especially if Hoseok was to turn out a liar.

Suddenly you heard the doors open and then slam. You jerked up in your seat, the loud sound startling you. Then your door got opened and you saw Tae with a big grin as he said “Let’s go!”. You dragged yourself out of the vehicle and took your medical bag. They were lucky to grab you right after work. Who knows maybe they were smarter than they looked and specifically chose that moment knowing you should have such things on you then.

You followed them inside the hangar. You could feel your back slouching a bit as if to block you from all the panic that was starting to rise from within. Walking into one of the big rooms with creepy walls made of small windows you felt your heart start to beat faster and then you saw him. He was sitting on a wonky looking stool, staring at the screen of his phone.

Once he heard footsteps, he rose his head and looked your way. You weren’t able to see his eyes during your last encounter but now they were piercing threw you in all their glory. They were almost pitch black and dark like his hair. Their gaze seemed cold but also had something extremely calm in it. You could feel a shiver run threw your whole body. He surely had an intimidating vibe about him.

“I wanted to file a complaint…” he said slowly in a raspy voice, while grabbing a cigarette and lighting it up. You raised your eyebrows giving him a dumbfounded look and letting a “Huh?” fall out of your lips. He stared down at his abdomen and then you saw it, the blood trickling threw his white T, that he styled under a Hawaiian looking shirt.

You straightened yourself and cleared your throat, showing you were starting to get ticked off “Well you are sitting here smoking instead of resting and let me take a wild guess, you sure had quite the activities in between?” you seethed threw your teeth. He took a deep puff of his cigarette letting the smoke blow out his nostrils and had an amused little smile come over his lips. “Can’t recall my doctor left any ‘doctors orders’” he hummed.

You could see he was a piece of work so, you mumbled a “Well I am not your doctor. You’re lucky you got to live in the end. You weren’t looking so hot on that table.” he jerked an eyebrow putting out the cigarette and saying “well we are gonna change the you not being my doctor part” after you heard those words, you let a loud, hysterical laugh out and dropped your bag, while clapping your hands and saying “how about FUCKING NEVER IN HELL!”. You were not about to get intimidated by some thugs, your anger went way over the roof at this point.

He sighed getting up and that was when you realized, everybody else had left the room. He walked up to you slowly like you were some sort of prey. You refused to look like a helpless deer in headlights, so you rose your head higher and masked your face with fake confidence. He was taller than you. When he got close, you realized he was a really good looking man. His body was slim and toned. His raven black hair was thick and wavy.

“I don’t recall I was asking…” he said in a very calm tone, that made you even more annoyed, so you shot the next sentence without thinking “Well I don’t care and if you kill me for refusing, you will have police looking at your hands. I don’t think you want that kind of attention…” once you heard what you spat out, you cursed at yourself in your mind.

He let out a deep laugh and shook his head saying “Oh I am well aware who’s girl your are Y/N. You think just because Jung Hoseok is fucking you, it will change the fact how well acquainted I am with the police?” you started, nervously blinking and thinking of what to say next but he cut you off “If I chose to break your pretty little neck, the police would not give one fuck, it would be just another sad accident.” he took a lose strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear saying “That would be a waste wouldn’t it? And as much as I respect you trying not to get shaken down by a mobster, the reality is your shit outta luck and I don’t think I need to threaten your life to make you understand that?”

You could feel sweat starting to form on your forehead. The way he spoke of these things had you thinking he can make your life difficult. But you decided to try and lay out facts “Well I work in the hospital for your information and not like I would be at your every whim!” he laughed again and said very slowly “You really think that if I can handle the police like a bunch of dogs, a hospital would be a challenge? You really believe that director of yours isn’t mainly money driven?”

He looked at you with an amused gaze and shook his head lightly “But don’t worry your pretty head Y/N. I rarely get hurt and so do my men… and when we do it tends to be at nights and you wont convince me, you mainly work night shifts.” You gave him a glare, the fact he knew your name and other things about you, was bugging you beyond belief. He must have squeezed info out of your friend.

Seeing your irritation he sighed and walked behind you, just to lean over your shoulder and whisper in your ear “Don’t worry I won’t take up your precious time if it won’t be an emergency. Unless you will want me to…” You scoffed taking a step away from him and muttering “Yea for sure!” irony dripped from your voice but he did not seem bothered, if anything he was looking at you confidently as he said “Time will show won’t it? But for now…” he moved his head, showing down to his abdomen and saying calmly “I’d appreciate you handle the work you have already started”.

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @danielle143 @xjiminsthighsx @nochook @kootieful

#min yoongi #namjoon #suga smut #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #agust d #hobi smut #suga x reader #agustd #suga #suga x oc #suga x you #suga x y/n #hobi x reader #hobi x you #hobi x y/n #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #agust d x reader #yoongi min #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x oc #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #bts x oc

[minisugakoobies]

In Good Hands | JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plots, a tiny bit of hurt/comfort, Ranch!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: sex work, swearing, drinking, kissing, grinding, marking/love bites, humping, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk, protected sex, riding, lots of orgasm talk, allusions to unsupportive/asshole exes/partners, Hoseok's a fucking pro (in every way)

Word Count: 8.5K

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Once again, another partner has left you feeling unsatisfied. Maybe it’s time to call in an expert. Don’t worry, Hoseok knows exactly what you need.

A/N: Well, this started out as a PWP and then a little bit of plot crept in there anyway. 🤷‍♀️ Whatcha gonna do? Thank you to @reliablemitten for taking a look at this one for me. 💜 And to the rest of the writers in the Bangtan Ranch collab, for inspiring me with your kindness and talent! 🤠

Please don't be a silent reader! 🥺 I'd love to hear what you think! My inbox is always open 💕

Bangtan Ranch Masterlist

It’s over your second glass of champagne that you tell him. 

Hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up almost comically as he chokes on his drink, wincing when the bubbles tickle his nose. Not exactly the reaction you’d been hoping for, but at least he’s not laughing at you. And to be fair to him, the two of you were in the middle of a conversation about the amazing dinner you had just shared. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting for you to blurt out, “No one’s ever made me come from sex!” when he’d asked, “Do you like to cook?”

This isn’t how you planned on telling him. It’s because you’re nervous. You’ve been nervous ever since you arrived here this morning. 

All of your friends had been rather surprised when you’d announced you’d planned yourself a little weekend getaway at Bangtan Ranch. You weren’t really an ‘outdoors’ type of person, as more than one friend felt compelled to point out. And it’s true - you much prefer the comforts of home to roughing it in the wilderness. But you shut down their incredulous questioning with one single word - glamping.

So as far as your friends are concerned, you’re here for a weekend of pampering, staying in a modern little yurt instead of a tent or cabin, with running water and electricity and a king sized bed fully furnished with plush faux fur blankets. The tiny space includes other luxurious amenities, such as a fully stocked bar and a hot tub on the deck around the back. It’s a true oasis, a place where you can unwind away from the stress of everyday life.

A self-care weekend. That is what your friends believe you’re on, because that is what you’ve convinced them. But the truth is far more complicated. And embarrassing. Because you’ve chosen to stay at Bangtan Ranch for one specific reason. Which you’ve just shared with Hoseok, accidentally, tongue loosened by the alcohol coursing through your veins, letting your anxiousness override your filter.

The day has been fairly relaxing so far. After checking in, you went on a little tour of the grounds, taking in the sights you recognized from online, like the corral where the horses roam, and the lake where fly fishermen launch their lures into the shimmering crystal waters. 

In the late afternoon, you’d scheduled yourself a massage, thinking it might help you loosen up a little. Your masseuse brought their portable table out to the yurt and did their best to put you at ease, but somehow you retained the tension you’d brought to the ranch with you, muscles stubbornly remaining tightly drawn, like you were shielding yourself, trying to keep your secret as long as you could. 

After the masseuse packed up and left, you took a shower, then dressed for your date. There was a knock at the door not long after that as Hoseok arrived, followed quickly by your dinner. The kitchen staff at the main house provided a sumptuous catered meal of steak and roasted veggies, with fresh strawberries and cream for dessert. And lots of champagne. After such a feast, you should feel content, but you’re still keyed up.

Hence the blurt.

“No one? Not once?” Hoseok has recovered from the drink flooding his lungs. He places his glass carefully on the table between you before running a hand through his chestnut hair. He’s even more handsome in person than his profile on Bangtan’s website suggests. And that’s saying a lot, because you’d literally gasped upon seeing his photo when you’d scrolled through the staff section of the site. 

You shake your head, gaze focusing on the half-empty flute in front of you. “Not once.” Unable to look him in the eye, like you’re divulging a shameful secret. You’re an adult who has had more than a handful of sexual partners in your lifetime, and not a single one of them ever gotten you off during sex. Not. A. One. After the first few left you feeling unsatisfied, you figured it was a run of bad luck. Just some lousy lays. But it kept happening. Over and over. In both relationships and one-night stands.

You learned pretty quickly not to bother bringing it up. That conversation never went well. Instead, you perfected the fake O - you knew exactly how to move, how to moan and yell, make it seem like you were awash in ecstasy. Eventually, though, you got tired of acting. So you stopped altogether. 

It’s been months since your last date. Occasionally, in your loneliest hours, you’ve thought about putting one of those apps back on your phone and swiping through your options, but any time you go down that train of thought, you inevitably arrive at the same question. So before you put yourself out there, you need to know first. Which is why you’ve hired an expert to help you out. 

An expert who is silently observing you now, waiting for you to go on. 

“I feel like I should clarify a few things. Um. I’ve had a lot of partners. Not a crazy amount, but more than a few. And none of them could get me off.” You glance up and find his warm eyes locked on your face. You can feel your neck starting to warm, embarrassment settling itself into your bones. Grabbing your flute, you down the rest of your drink before continuing. “And it’s not that I’ve never had an orgasm. I’ve had plenty, just always by my own hand. So I’m here because… I need to know. If - if it’s me.” 

“If it’s you?”

You nod. “Yeah. Like, if I am the problem.” 

His brows knit together as he stares at you. “You think you are the reason your partners have never brought you to orgasm? When you just said you’ve gotten yourself off plenty of times?” 

Another nod.

He sighs, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and swiping it through the cream. “You’re not the first person I’ve met who has told me something like this. Not by a long shot. Many people have come to me seeking the truth. And I helped them find it.” Bringing the strawberry to his lips, his tongue darts out and licks the cream off before he pops the berry into his mouth. 

You must have a strange expression on your face because he suddenly laughs, shaking his head. “Wow, that sounds pretty conceited, huh? Bragging that I’ve always brought all my partners to orgasm.” He pauses, dark brows furrowing again as he spins his glass in front of him. “Let me try again. I’ve been working at this ranch for a few years now, and I’ve met so many different people. All with their own wants. Their own desires. For me, it’s always been about discovering what the other person needs. That’s the key to making sure they enjoy the experience.” He shrugs. “Maybe that still sounds conceited, I don’t know. All I know is that anyone who has ever come to me with the same question you have has always left here knowing the answer.”

“And you think you can do that for me?” The alcohol has made you blunt.

Hoseok’s silent for a moment, scanning your face. Then he nods. “I know I can. If you’ll let me.” 

There’s a flash of something in his warm eyes that makes you swallow thickly before you reply. “Okay. So… how do we get started?”

“Leave that to me.” He pours the rest of the champagne into your flutes. “All you need to do is relax tonight. That’s your only goal. Does that sound all right?”

It sounds fantastic, but you’re not sure it’s going to happen, given how wound you still are. But you agree anyway, taking another sip. 

“Good. So. Back to my original question - do you like to cook?” 

Hoseok tries his best to engage you in normal conversation, asking you about your hobbies, what you do for a living, what other activities you’re hoping to get to on your vacation. It feels like you’re on a typical date, getting to know one another. But from the way your leg keeps bouncing, fingers drumming on your thigh, you’re sure he can tell it’s not working. 

“It should be starting to cool off outside,” he states as he stands to clear the table, putting the empty dishes back on the cart for the kitchen staff to collect. “How would you feel about moving this conversation outside, to the hot tub? We can take the rest of dessert with us, open another bottle of champagne - or I can make you a cocktail, if you’d prefer?” 

Moving to the hot tub might help. At this point, you’ll try anything. “Hot tub sounds fantastic right now. But, um, I think I’m okay on the alcohol.” You’re at the perfect amount of tipsy right now - there’s no desire to cross over into drunk. 

Hoseok goes outside to prepare the hot tub while you change into your bathing suit. When he returns, you grab a few bottles of water and the remaining strawberries and head around the yurt to the tub while he changes. The trees towering over the back of the yurt are tall enough to blot out the sun, so Hoseok has turned on the string lights hanging over the deck. By the time he joins you, you’re already in, reclining against the side, head tipped back to rest on the ledge, eyes closed.

The water is so warm and soothing. The jets aimed at your lower back feel like reassuring hands kneading your tension away. Maybe you should’ve skipped the massage earlier and just sat in the tub for a few hours, given how quickly your body is starting to unwind. 

“You look comfortable,” Hoseok informs you as he climbs in, water splashing over the edge of the tub. You pop one eye open a crack, noticing the darkened trail of hair on his toned stomach, heading down to the waistband of his shorts. He settles himself against the opposite edge, facing you.

“I am.” 

“Good.” He lets his head fall back. “I’m so glad you picked this yurt.” 

His statement catches you off guard and you open your eyes. “You are?”

“Yeah. It’s always so much nicer staying here than in one of the tents. I'm not really a tent person. Don’t care for sleeping on the ground.”

“Did you do a lot of camping before, um…”

“Before I started working here?” 

“I’m sorry, is it okay if I ask you questions?” Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about work. You shouldn’t just assume that he’s open to any topic.

“Of course.” His warm smile consoles you. “It’s such a cliche to say this, I know, but my life is an open book. You can ask me anything.” 

“Did you do a lot of camping growing up?” 

He laughs. It’s such a delightful sound. “Thankfully, no. My parents weren’t really into being outdoors. So I didn’t spend a lot of time outside as a kid, and definitely not in any tents.” 

Your hand glides through the water, playing with the currents. “We didn’t really go camping when I was a kid, either. I had an ex who liked to go, though, so I’ve slept in a tent a few times. And I’m with you - sleeping on the ground sucks. I don’t care how many futons or air mattresses you bring, it’s never enough.” 

“Right?? I don’t understand anyone who willingly does that. We’re humans! We evolved and invented mattresses! And nice beds to put them on! Why go back?” Shaking his head incredulously, he runs his hands through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. Damp tips drip water down the sharp planes of his jawline. “So other than the tent, did you like going camping?”

You shrug. “Most of it, I guess. I enjoyed going for hikes. And we always brought marshmallows to roast at night. I make a mean s’more.” 

Hoseok grins. “You know, the yurt comes stocked with marshmallows and roasting sticks, if you want to fire up the pit later. And I can get us some chocolate and graham crackers.” 

“Maybe.” Maybe if things don’t go as you hoped, you can cheer yourself up with some melted chocolate and marshmallows. “I guess these trips weren’t terrible, but they were never my first choice. Plus I almost died on one.” 

“What?” Hoseok’s a very animated person, you’ve noticed. When he reacts to something you say, he does so with his whole body. In this case, his jaw hangs loose as his wide eyes gape at you, and he launches himself off of his bench, crossing to sit next to you. “What do you mean, you almost died?!” He grabs your hand, bringing it up from beneath the surface and clutching it tightly. “Are you okay now?”

“Oh, no, Hoseok!” Despite feeling a brief flash of guilt for making him worry, you can’t stop the laughter that bursts from your lips. “I’m sorry, I’m just being overly dramatic. It wasn’t a near-death experience or anything like that.” You squeeze his hand quickly before pulling yours away to point at your other shoulder, twisting in your seat to show Hoseok. “We went hiking after a thunderstorm and I slipped on some rocks and cut my arm bad enough to warrant a trip to a nearby hospital and some stitches. But it put me off camping for a while.” 

He shakes his head, hand automatically reaching out to your shoulder. He stops an inch away. “May I?” 

You nod, and he strokes the scar on your bicep, long fingers drawing the line of the jagged cut like he’s studying the shape. The strokes turn to gentle caresses as he speaks. 

“I'm sorry that happened to you.” He turns so he’s facing you, his calf brushing up against yours. “You can barely see the scar, though.” 

“I know,” you reply, replacing his fingers with your own, rubbing at the mark on your arm. “But I can feel it.” 

He hums, propping his head on his hand, elbow bent on the ledge of the tub. “How did your ex take it when you told them you didn’t want to go camping any more?” 

“Oh, well, we broke up when we got back from that trip, so, uh, it wasn’t really an issue.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. We weren’t a good fit, anyway.” 

He hums again, and you wonder if you’re boring him. You hate talking about your exes, the few of them there are. But then he smiles. 

“We don’t have to talk about your past relationships if you don’t want to. Like I said, you should be relaxing tonight. There’s no need to talk about anything stressful or upsetting.” Something skims along your knee and you glance down, finding his hand brushing against you. “Just let me know if you want me to stop. Anything we’re talking about, anything I’m doing. Say the word and I’ll stop immediately. It’s all about making sure you’re comfortable.” 

Your lip tucks itself between your teeth as you nod. His hand skims higher, tracing up your thigh a little. The heat from the hot tub can’t stop the shiver that passes through you. 

“I don’t mind talking about this stuff. There’s just not much to say,” you declare with a wry grin. 

Hoseok laughs, shifting in his seat to reach the strawberries. But instead of eating one, he offers it to you, holding the berry an inch from your lips. You lean forward, teeth biting into the tip. Tart juice splashes onto your chin as you tear the berry in half, and you squeak in surprise.

“Oh, juicy!” 

Your neck flames as you wipe your mouth, cringing at your own awkward reaction. Hoseok merely grins, hand reaching out to swipe at a drop on your jaw. His thumb lingers on your chin a few seconds longer than necessary for such a tiny bead of liquid. 

“Cute,” he declares, and the tub could be filled with icy cold water and you’d still be burning up. But now it’s not due to embarrassment.

Hoseok still holds the rest of the berry. Carefully, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug, bringing his hand back to your lips. This time, your bite is slow, eyes locked on his as you close your lips around the fruit. Even though you’re the one eating, he’s the one swallowing loudly as you finish the berry, tongue slipping out to lick your lips lewdly. Your chest swells with pride, knowing that you’ve had an effect on him with your actions. 

“Still cute?” Somehow, you manage to smoothly purr the question despite how shaky you feel under Hoseok’s gaze. He’s peering at you like you’re one of the berries and he’s holding himself back from just eating you whole. 

Hoseok barks out a surprised laugh, and you join him with an equally shocked gasp as he clasps his hands around your waist, yanking you into his lap. Your legs fall open into a straddle as he holds you in place with one hand gripping each thigh. 

“Yes. Still cute.” There’s no waver in his words. He looks up at you with hooded eyes, tilting his neck until his nose bumps yours. “Cute and sweet. The perfect combination, like strawberries and cream.”

“Mmm, am I sweet?” you wonder out loud. It’s not something anyone’s ever really called you before.

“I’m sure you are, but I’d love to find out,” he whispers, and surges up to catch your mouth with his. He kisses away your giggles, and you tangle your fingers in his silky locks as his hands on your legs slide you closer to him. 

“What a fucking line,” you exhale as he trails kisses along your jaw, back towards your ear. His tongue flicks out to trace the curve, making you shudder.

“Well, I am a pro,” he replies, grin evident in his tone. 

You laugh, head tipping back, and he immediately dives towards your neck, to suck at the sensitive skin there. Groaning, you curl your fingers into his hair more, keeping his head in place, urging him to mark you up. He understands your silent command and leaves a trail of bites down to your collarbones. 

Hoseok’s hot mouth is driving you crazy, and you rock forward, trying to find some friction, dragging your core against his groin. He’s hard, rutting his heavy cock against you, and you moan in tandem. A jolt of desire shoots through you, but there’s something else gnawing at your gut, something that makes your stomach flip. A voice whispers that tonight is going to end like so many others, the words striking you like a bolt of electricity. 

Lost in your anxiety, you go still in Hoseok’s arms, and he lifts his head before he straightens up. Dark eyes examine your face for a moment. “Too fast?” 

You start to shake your head no, stop, then nod, glancing down at his chest. His hands relax their hold on your thighs, pushing you back onto his legs a little. 

“Let’s slow it down a little. We’ve got all night to do whatever we want - we don’t have to rush into anything.” He ducks his head until he meets your eye line. “And we don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” 

“You keep saying that.” 

“Because it’s true. There’s no pressure from me for you to do anything at all. I’m perfectly happy to sit here and talk to you all night, if you’d like. Or I can shut up and we can just enjoy the view.” He nods towards the sky, and you look up to see a bright moon rising above the trees, flanked by several twinkling stars. “It’s all about you tonight. Whatever you want.” 

You nod, and then bite your lip. “Can I be honest, then?” 

“Of course! Anything you tell me will be just between us.” 

“The hot tub bench is kind of hurting my knees.” 

He moves so swiftly, diving forward off the bench, grabbing you by the waist again to guide you into a sideways sitting position, your ass pressing into his thighs, that you let out a shocked laugh. 

“That’s better, thanks.” You drape your arms over his shoulders again as he locks his hands behind your back. 

The heat of the moment has dissipated, and the two of you fall back into easy conversation. Hoseok keeps his hands on your back, a light, comforting touch as you try to relax again. He doesn’t try to kiss you or do anything else that you would consider making a move. He seems content just to talk to you, like he said, and you let the warm bubbling waters of the hot tub carry your tension away again. 

It’s tempting to just sit there all night in his arms, but eventually, you have to get out of the hot tub. Hoseok points to the steps leading down from the deck to the back of the yurt. “There’s a shower back here, if you want to rinse off.” 

Back inside the yurt, you find that Hoseok has laid out the two fluffy white bathrobes that had been hanging on the bathroom door. “Here,” he says, handing you one. “I thought this would be comfortable for you to wear after soaking for so long. You have to feel this - it’s so soft.” He rubs a corner of the robe on his face, eyes closing for a second in bliss, before he grins at you. You can’t help but grin back. 

Taking the robe into the bathroom, you peel off your wet swimsuit and hang it over the tub. Hoseok wasn’t kidding about the robe - it feels like you’re being gently hugged by the softest cloud. Before you step out of the small space, you glance at the mirror above the sink. This would be the time when you’d give yourself a pep talk, if you were in a movie. But pep talks aren’t really your thing, and there are no cameras here, just you and the calm face peering back at you. You look relaxed, at least. Maybe no pep talks are needed after all. 

Hoseok is sitting on the bed when you reemerge. He’s already wearing his bathrobe, perched on the edge, hands resting on his lap. He pats the space next to him, but you hesitate, standing in front of him. 

Here it is. The moment for which you planned this entire trip. 

“So…” you say, fingers playing with your belt. “Now what?” 

He laughs. “That’s up to you. What do you want to do?” 

Several scenarios run through your head, including the thought of sending him away for the night and just spending the rest of your mini-vacation alone, lying in bed, eating strawberries and watching movies. It’s not a bad backup plan, honestly. But you’re here for an answer, and that’s not the way you’re gonna get it.  

You climb onto the bed, settling yourself so your back is resting against the headboard. Once you’re comfortable, you crook your finger, inviting Hoseok to join you. He mirrors your pose, but doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to speak. 

Instead, you lean over and press your lips to his. He reacts immediately, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other caresses your cheek. Your own curl into his robe, gripping the plush fabric as you murmur, “Can we just do this for a while? I like kissing you.” 

Hoseok nods, nose bumping yours. “Absolutely.” 

Time seems to slow to a crawl as you and Hoseok make out, reclining against the bed with your arms wrapped around each other. He’s a fantastic kisser, taking your breath away with long, deep kisses that make your thighs twitch. He nips at your bottom lip, and when you gasp, slips his tongue into your mouth to tangle with your own. There’s a need building in you again, and before long, you’re dragging him down with you, sliding along the faux fur blankets to lie on your back. He follows without delay, covering your body with his own. 

Heaven. He feels like heaven, pressed up against you. You’ve missed this feeling so much, the weight of someone else on you, hands roaming your sides, cupping your face, lips trailing down your throat, over your collarbones. It’s been far too long.

Hoseok pauses at the point where the v of your robe lies on your chest and glances up at you with darkened eyes and kiss-swollen lips. His hair is messy due to your inability to keep your fingers out of it. He might feel like heaven, but right now he looks like an absolutely sinful dream. 

“Is it okay if I untie this?” he asks, lithe fingers tugging lightly on your loosely-tied belt. 

You nod, then find your voice. “Yes. Please.” 

Instead of making swift work of the knot, Hoseok pulls on the ends slowly, and your breath hitches in anticipation. Once the material slips free, he brings his hands up, each clutching a side of your robe to peel it back, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. Almost immediately, your skin pebbles, a rush of goosebumps rippling down your skin. Hoseok tuts. 

“Sorry, love,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your hardening nipples. “Let me warm you back up.” 

And then he lowers his mouth to your breast, forming a warm, wet seal. 

“Oh!” you keen, head lolling back as Hoseok’s hands cover your chest, large palms doing their best to massage away your chills. His tongue dances around your nipple, tracing circles that grow larger and larger as he laves at your breast. Once it’s completely coated, he licks his way to the other breast, repeating his actions. 

He spends several minutes this way, going back and forth. The robe is still gathered shut below your navel, but as you writhe beneath his hot mouth, it shifts, granting him more skin to paint with his tongue. He trails down your stomach, kissing your belly button and laughing at your stuttered breath when the sensitive skin there spasms from the tickling brush of his lips. 

Still, even with your robe falling open, he doesn’t make any move towards where you want him most, until you finally moan, “Hoseok. Keep going, please.” 

He glances up at you for a second, and must see the need written on your face, because he smirks. “I’m sorry, love, I was trying to take my time. Am I moving too slowly for you?” 

“A - a little,” you admit, voice shaking as he kisses across your belly, from hip to hip. His pink lips are as plush as the bedding that surrounds you. “But if you’re, um, if you’re enjoying yourself, then you don’t have to… stop.” 

His laugh tickles your stomach, and you tip your head up to look at him where he lies, halfway down the bed, chin resting on your torso. “Oh, I’m definitely enjoying myself. But the question is whether you are enjoying it? Because I don’t wanna sound like a broken record or anything, but this is all about you tonight.” He beams, a bright smile sending a rush of warmth to your cheeks. “So if you want me to move a little faster…” his hand disappears beneath the folds of fabric covering your thighs, “then that is what I shall do.” 

Dropping your head back onto your pillow, you sigh as you feel his fingers grip the soft skin at the apex of your legs, urging them apart. The robe you wear is completely open now, hiding nothing but your arms, still tucked into the sleeves. 

“Can I ask you something? And feel free to say yes but then not answer.” 

You lift your head again. “You can ask me anything.” Hoseok’s earned your trust tonight with his kind words and actions. And besides, he’s right, you don’t have to answer anything that you don’t want to. You’re the one in charge here.

“When you’ve been with someone in the past, have they ever moved this slowly?” As he speaks, he lowers his mouth to your thigh, leaving a tender kiss behind. “Or is it usually just get you naked and then get going? Straight to the sex?” 

“Usually the latter.” None of your exes were much for foreplay. A few minutes of kissing, maybe, a little fingering to open you up, and then right to it. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d get a little oral with the fingering, but it never lasted very long. Honestly, sometimes it felt so mechanical, like you were a damn car they were trying to start. Put the key in the ignition, step on the gas, turn the key. Kiss, finger, fuck.  

When you explain all of this to Hoseok, he shakes his head, nose brushing your other thigh. “That’s what I thought you’d say,” he sighs, sounding disappointed. “Look, I don’t mean to disparage someone I’ve never met, but… well, frankly, all those people who had you in their bed and didn’t take the time to savor all this beauty laid out in front of them were complete idiots. Every last one of them.” 

“Ah, well, I don’t know if I’m a ‘beauty’ -”

“No no.” Hoseok cuts you off. “I wasn’t asking for opinions. I was stating a fact.” The protest forming on your lips dies away as he sucks a love bite into your skin, at the junction where your thigh meets your crotch. “You’re breathtaking like this. Not just the way you look lying here, but the way you react to my touch, the sounds you make.” He groans, dropping his forehead onto your leg. “God, you make the most gorgeous sounds. You’re telling me no one ever wanted to take their time with you, make you moan like this again and again?” 

And as he finishes his thought, he finally slides a finger into you, right where you have been dying for him to reach. You moan loudly, back arching slightly, trying to take him in further. 

He hisses as he explores the tight wet heat of your cunt. “That’s it, that’s what I was talking about. That beautiful little cry of yours. Wanna fill the room with it, love.” He adds a second finger, and then his mouth follows, gliding along your slit before he seeks your clit. When he gently latches onto the sensitive nub, you whimper again, fingers flexing in the faux fur. 

For several wonderfully long minutes, the only sounds coming from his mouth are the lewd sucking noises he makes as he eats you out. Meanwhile, there’s an entire symphony falling from your own lips, whines and moans and the occasional “Hoseok” or “oh my God” all floating into the ether. Thankfully, there are no shared walls for this yurt, so you can be as loud as you want, because the man between your legs is devouring you so enthusiastically that there’s no way you could stifle yourself right now. And he’s clearly delighting in the clamor, based on how he keeps groaning into your cunt and rutting his hips into the bed. Which only spurs you on more. To think that you could turn him on like this… it’s a total ego boost. 

Hoseok’s ministrations have you squirming, hips bucking as you feel that familiar band tightening inside you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you chase your high, focusing on what he’s doing and trying to block everything else out. Including the nagging voice in your head that pipes up again, fretting that you’re going to lose it, that it’s not going to happen, that this whole weekend was a waste of time…

“You okay, love?” Hoseok’s gentle voice pulls you out of your head, and you open your eyes to find him watching you with a concerned look. 

“‘M fine,” you say, flashing him a smile, but it’s weak at best. His fingers withdraw and you whine a dissent, but he’s already crawling up the bed to lay beside you, grasping your chin as he kisses you. You lose yourself in the sweet lushness of his lips for a minute before he pulls away. 

“It seemed like you were getting close there,” he informs you. 

“You could tell that?” 

He grins, that cocky lopsided smirk that you’ve only seen a few times tonight but have come to absolutely adore. “If you know what signs to look for. But something happened. You went somewhere. In here.” His fingers brush over your temples. “Where’d you go?” 

With a heavy sigh, you roll onto your side to face him. “I just… I couldn’t drown out the voice. You know. The one that always says exactly what you’re afraid of? That voice. It started talking and I couldn’t shut it out.” 

He rakes his hand through his hair, creating a fluffy brown halo around his head as he huffs out a sigh. “I almost hate to ask but… this voice you hear. Is it telling you what someone else told you?”

Eyes lowered, you give the tiniest of nods. Not just someone. Multiple people, their words blending together, but it’s all the same message: there’s something wrong with you. 

He lays a hand on your arm. You watch his long fingers as they gently stroke your skin. He speaks your name just as delicately. “I know we just met, but I can promise you that those people were lying to you. They blamed you out of their own guilt, rather than admit to themselves and to you that they weren’t able to satisfy you.” 

That’s what you want to believe, more than anything. It’s a bit hard to put it into practice.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, giving him a brief smile. “I - I know. It’s just… their words are stuck in there.”

“Hmmm.” Hoseok’s gaze flits between your eyes as he contemplates your answer. “Tell me something, love. Before that voice chimed in, were you enjoying the moment?” 

His fingers gently brush your cheek as you nod at him. 

“And how do you feel right now? Is the moment over?” 

That moment is definitely over, but you’re still happy to have Hoseok here with you, and you don’t want to stop. It’s been ages since you’ve been with anyone, and you’ve missed the touch of another so much. 

“I’d like to keep going, actually,” you admit, head lowered shyly, and his fingers slip under your chin to tilt your face up until you lock eyes with him. 

“Say that again, love, a little louder,” he implores you.

“I want to keep going,” you declare, with confidence. And bring your hands up to his face to pull him in for a kiss. Hoseok hums into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut, and you close yours as well, letting yourself fall back into the sensation of his lips on yours. When the need to breathe becomes overwhelming, you pull away, gasping. “But what about you?”

He frowns. “What about me?” 

“You wanna keep going?”

His laugh is a low purr. “If you’re asking because you’re afraid you killed the mood or something….” He gestures to his robe, where a tent has sprung up over his groin. “It’s not ruined for me.” 

He shuffles closer, pressing you up against his chest as he kisses you again. What lies beneath that tent presses into your thigh, and you marvel at the fact that he still wants you. It’s another ego boost, one you sorely need at this moment, and it’s enough to bolster you to take charge again and pull him on top of you as you roll onto your back.

He moves eagerly, happily rutting into your open thighs, the soft fabric of the robe rubbing against your bare cunt. 

“Hoseok,” you mumble, fingers plucking at the collar of his robe, “take this off. I need to feel you.”

Without hesitation, he tosses the robe onto the floor. As he hovers over you, skin shimmering like amber under the warm lighting of the bedroom, you trace your hands down his chest and stomach, running your fingertips along the dark treasure trail that leads from his belly button to his groin. He shudders, a tiny groan letting you know he’s enjoying the attention. 

He notices the way your eyes keep flicking to his cock. “Do you wanna touch it, love?” 

“Can I?” Your fingers twitch, wanting to wrap themselves around his impressive girth. He’s not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he’s thick enough that you know you’re in for a stretch. 

“Of course you can. Touch as much as you’d like, I’m at your command tonight.” 

“Well, yeah, I know that but…” You run your hands up his muscular thighs, delighting in the way they jerk under your fingertips. Shifting closer, you cup his cheek and bring his mouth down towards you, barely an inch from your own. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

“Fuck. Yes, please, touch me,” comes Hoseok’s hurried response, as he closes the distance between you with a heated kiss. Just as your lips meet, you curl your hand around the base of his cock, lightly stroking upwards. He’s warm, velvety skin pulsing in your grip as you rub your thumb over the tip. He moans into your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. 

As you continue to roll your hand up and down, Hoseok drops his head to your neck, pressing sloppy kisses there. “Feels so good, love,” he whispers, and he drags his fingers down your lower stomach. You instinctively arch into his hand as he cups your heat, palm rubbing small circles against your clit. “Don’t stop.” 

“Ahh, Hoseok,” you sigh as he slips a finger between your sodden folds. He has such lovely fingers, so long and flexible, stretching and stroking inside you. 

“That’s it, love, keep talking. Tell me what you like.”

What you like? He should know that. When you booked his services, you’d filled out a little questionnaire with your likes and dislikes. Your wants and your turn-offs. 

“But I already ahhh fuck - already told you, oh god,” you groan, statement crumbling into babbled exclamations as Hoseok fondles your clit, giving the little pearl a good shining. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he laughs, “and I did read your list, but I want you to tell me, right now, what you want. I wanna hear it from your sweet mouth instead.” He gently pries your fingers from his length, kissing away your pout. “Sorry, but you were starting to feel a little too good.” 

“But I want to make you cum,” you protest, and he closes his eyes for a second before fixing you with a dark stare. 

“Oh, you will, love, don’t you worry. But I’ll be damned if I’m the first to go tonight.” 

This time, when he kisses you, it’s slow and heavy, his tongue languidly teasing yours, teeth pulling your bottom lip into his mouth so he can suck on it. His fingers slide back inside you with no resistance, your arousal soaking them fully as he scissors you open. You feel his cock pressing into your hip and try to lift your lower half to give him some friction, but he’s holding you down too much for it to work. 

Again his fingers find that soft spot inside you, and your head snaps up. “Fuck, Hoseok!” 

“Ah, you like that? Right there?” He strokes it again, and you nod furiously. 

“Yes, god, I love your fingers!” You’d be embarrassed at your zealous response if you weren’t in the throes of bliss right now, toes curling as Hoseok’s palm caresses your clit again.

“I’m glad to hear that, love, because they can’t get enough of this beautiful pussy of yours,” he murmurs, head bent over your chest, breath ghosting over your breasts. “So warm, so tight. Just begging for them, sucking them in again and again.” His fingers plunge faster, stroke deeper. “Could do this all night if you wanted.”

The stirring in your gut tightens, warmth spreading across your torso, down your thighs. “Please. I need more,” you moan, bucking your hips to try to meet his thrusts. 

Hoseok grunts, propping himself up on his other elbow as he buries his hand inside you. The fierce look of determination on his face creases his brow as sweat beads on his forehead. It’s too much, watching this sex god fingerfuck you wantonly like this, so you close your eyes. 

Almost immediately, the voice speaks again.

And then you feel a hand on your cheek and you open your eyes to find Hoseok looking at you with a softer expression. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t go away again. Stay with me,” he says, a command and a plea mixed in one. 

You nod, mesmerized by the warmth glowing in his eyes. His fingers find a new rhythm as he holds your gaze. “Are you still liking the way I’m touching you, or do you want something else now? Hmmm? Think you’re ready for my cock now?”

“Oh god,” you groan, “mmm, I think - I think I’m ready.”

Hoseok’s lips curl, dark eyes still studying your face as his thumb applies just the right amount of pressure to your clit to make you gasp. He lowers his mouth to your ear, nibbling on the lobe before he whispers, “Say it like you mean it, love. Tell me exactly what you want. Or do you want to hear what I want to do to you first? How I want to bend you over and fuck you so hard, the only voice you’ll hear is your own, screaming out my name?”

“I want that too, fuck, Hoseok, please fuck me!” The words explode out of you as if they were just waiting on the tip of your tongue the whole time. Which, maybe they have been. You came here intending to be fucked, and that desire has only grown through the evening. 

With a pleased laugh, Hoseok hops off the bed to rummage through his robe until he pulls a condom from one of the pockets. Then he climbs back on the bed, kneeling in front of you, one hand lightly gripping his cock as he looks at you. 

“Lay back and let me make you feel good.” He pauses at the expression on your face. “Unless you have something else in mind?” 

With a grin, you reach out and pluck the condom from Hoseok’s hand. He huffs a breathy laugh as you place a palm on his chest, pushing him back towards the headboard again. Leaning back, he grants you another smirk as he stretches his legs in front of him, erect cock bouncing against his firm stomach.

“Is this where you want me?” he rasps in a low rumble. Biting your lip, you nod, holding yourself back from leaping on him only long enough for you to commit his image to memory. Hoping you never forget the look in his eye as he waits for you to make your move. 

Still clutching the condom packet, you shuffle forward on your knees until you’re between his legs. Before you do anything else, you take his cock in your hands, giving him a few short strokes just to hear him moan again. He’s starting to pant when you finally release him, hands fumbling with the packet for a minute before you manage to rip it open. Your fingers move more nimbly as you sheath him. 

His hands wrap around the backs of your thighs, guiding you to straddle him. As you hover over his lap, hands on his shoulders, you take a moment to breathe. He smiles softly up at you, and with your next inhale, you sink down.

You were right. Hoseok’s thickness stretches you deliciously, hard length parting your tight walls, rubbing over every dripping inch inside. His tongue flicks out to lick his lips as you settle yourself on his thighs, reveling in the feeling of being so fucking full. 

It’s been way too long. 

“Doing okay, love?” he asks after a moment. 

“Fuck yes,” you reply, grinning at his giggle. His thumbs rub encouraging circles into your hips, but he doesn’t do anything else, clearly waiting for you to set the pace. 

“If you just want to sit on my cock for the rest of the night, I’m fine with that. You feel like heaven. Don’t even have to move. We can just stay like this.” 

A lock of his dark hair falls into his face as he beams up at you, and you push it behind his ear, shaking your head.

“Not that I wouldn’t love to cockwarm you all night, but…” Pushing yourself up, you slowly start to ride him. “Isn’t this more fun?” 

His response is a low groan and a squeeze of your ass. Laughing, you roll your hips, head kicking back as his cock brushes against your g-spot. Hoseok leans forward, the angle helping repeat the action, and you lace your hands behind his neck as you pick up the pace. 

“Shit, just like that,” he hisses, encouraging you to ride him faster. “Fucking taking me so good, love. How’s that feel?” 

“Feels, ahhh, feels so amazing, ‘seok.” 

But as good as he feels, it dawns on you that your energy is flagging. There’s no way you can keep this up for very long. 

When your speed starts to falter, and you fall silent again, Hoseok snaps into action. His hands grip your sides as he kisses you, nudging your nose with his own. “Focus on me,” he instructs you gently. Right before he begins to thrust into you like a fucking jackhammer. 

“Hoseok!” you yelp, eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh holy fuck!” 

“That’s it,” he grunts through gritted teeth, thighs smacking off your ass. “Let me take over. You don’t need to do anything now but sit here and enjoy this, okay? I’ve got you.” 

His cock is pumping into you so swiftly that you’re panting too hard to form a coherent sentence, so you don’t even try, nodding at his promise. When his arms wrap around your waist, you go pliant, letting him tip you backwards so he can pound into you at that perfect angle again, hitting your g-spot over and over. It’s so intense that you give up on words completely, just letting your moans communicate your thoughts. Which are currently along the lines of oh fuck oh my god so good so good!

You clutch at him, fingers leaving indentations in his skin as you urge him close enough to capture his mouth with yours. There’s a wild desperation in your kiss, which he must read as he matches you frenzied tongue for tongue, frantic bite for bite.

“I’ve got you, love,” he repeats, leaning forward again until your back hits the mattress. He slips out of you only momentarily to adjust your position, bringing both of your legs up to rest on his strong shoulders. “Don’t take your eyes off me for a second, okay? I’m still here, with you. You feel me?” He plunges back into your waiting warmth. 

You feel him in every inch of you, from your swollen lips to your shaking thighs. He takes your whimper for the answer it is. 

“That’s what I thought.” How the fuck is he able to pound into you like this and still speak? His prowess has your mind reeling. “I need you to know just how fucking good you feel, love. I hope you don’t mind if I fuck you all night, because I don’t want this to end. Any of it. Wanna taste you again, maybe have you sit on my face for a while?”

“Hoseok…” That tension is rising again. 

He shifts slightly, hands flexing in your thighs as he holds them to his chest while he drives into you. “Then I’d love to take you out back and make you bounce on my cock in the hot tub. Have you ever had hot tub sex? The jets on your clit will have you seeing stars. Or so I’ve been told.” He smirks. “Then I gotta hit it from behind, at least once. I need to see this ass dance up close.” His right hand slaps your cheek lightly. 

His filthy mouth is pushing you closer and closer to what you’ve been trying to find all night. It’s here, finally, your answer. Your high. This time, you don’t close your eyes, but keep them focused on the man confessing all the things he wants to do with you.

Hoseok’s control seems to be slipping as he swears loudly. “Goddamn, I want to do this all night, love. Just let me make you feel so good. I know you want it, love, tell me you want it.” 

“Ho-hoseok,” you stutter, your legs falling from his shoulders as you tangle your fingers into his hair, “I want it, I want it, kiss me, kiss m-”

He cuts you off with a passionate kiss, hot skin sliding against yours as he lies on top of you, fucking into you deeply. It’s exactly what you need, exactly what you want, and with a loud whine, you finally come. 

It’s not the same as any of the orgasms you’ve given yourself. It’s more intense, wave after wave of pleasure radiating from your core, spreading throughout your body. Goosebumps ripple down your thighs as you clench around Hoseok, and he groans, still thrusting away until his own euphoria arrives and he joins you in your wailing. 

It’s not until he collapses on top of you that your peak finally subsides. As thoughts start to filter back into your head, you hear that voice again. 

This time, you just laugh, and tell it to fuck off forever.

“What’s so funny?” Hoseok mumbles from between your breasts.

“Nothing,” you reply, running your hand through his sweaty hair to push it off his forehead. “I’m just happy.” 

He just grins, and you can’t stop yourself from kissing away his smile. After a moment, the kiss becomes a series of small pecks, before he rolls onto his side, fixing you with another questioning look. “So how do you feel, now that you have your answer?” 

“I feel fucking fantastic,” you declare, earning more of his musical giggles. “Thank you, Hoseok.” 

He shrugs. “I just helped you get there, you figured it out for yourself.” 

“So… do you have to go now? Or did you mean all of those things you said earlier?” You drum your fingers on his chest. “I believe there was something about the hot tub jets? That sounded pretty interesting.” 

That sexy smirk makes a reappearance. “I’m yours all night, love. What do you want to do now?” 

You tell him. All night long. 

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© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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#hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jung hoseok smut #hobi smut #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #jung hoseok x you #jung hoseok x reader #bts smut #hobi x you #hobi x reader #hoseok fanfic #jung hoseok fanfic #jung hoseok #possumswrite #fic: in good hands

[rialikesbts]

Oppressive

Businessman!Hoseok × reader

Masterlist

"To say that I am astonished, is an understatement! Lord heavens! I may be the luckiest businessman  to have such a successful young man wanting to do business with me!"

Your father says,not hiding his excitement. Had there been no one in the room, you were sure your father would have been dancing and jumping like a five year old. 

You and your father were having dinner with his potential business partner, Jung Hoseok, the heir to Jung Associates. Hoseok was from one of the most powerful and rich families in Korea. He had studied business from the West and as soon as he got control of his father's company, he expanded it across the whole world, making his family more powerful than ever. 

So when the young successful man said he was interested in having a partnership with your dad, who had a small yet successful business himself, your father was over the moon. 

"Oh, but Mr.L/N, I never said I wanted to do business with you, I am only interested in doing it if you would accept one condition. "

Your father's and your breath hitched at the statement. 

"Of course  ! Mr. Jung. Anything you want." Your father said nervously. 

"I want your daughter's hand in marriage". 

Your eyes bulged out of your sockets. Yes, you were living in a century where daughters were supposed to be married off early and were trained their whole lives about how to treat their husbands.

You were eighteen years old, the perfect age for marriage and your father had already started looking for potential suitors. 

You had known that your time  to get married would eventually come,but you never expected it to be this soon. 

"Young man," your father says, standing up. "You have made me the happiest father and man by asking me that question. You have my blessing for your marriage with my beloved daughter" .

Your father looked at you, his face telling you to stand up and accept Hoeseok's proposal. 

" Excuse me" you say as you stood  abruptly and left  the room. 

You enter the garden to get some fresh air. You were feeling stuffy inside the room and the green dress you wore made it harder to breathe as you were wearing a corset inside. 

 You stared at the moon for a while,regretting your misbehavior. 

Father would be so upset. 

Your mother had died giving birth to you and it was your father who clothed you, fed you and took care of you. He became your mother and your father. 

And the time comes for you to repay him, you become selfish and run away? 

Making up your mind, and pushing aside your selfish dream of 'marrying for love', you turn to go back into the dining room to apologize for causing a misunderstanding. 

However, you were greeted with a gruesome sight. 

Right on the ground in front of you was your cat, Mr. Whiskers, a huge scar on its stomach and traces of its dried blood on its body. 

You panic, crouching down,shaking your cat, yelling out Mr.Whiskers again and again, only to be greeted by silence. 

You start crying, holding Mr. Whiskers close to your chest. 

"Such a crybaby you are." 

A coat draped over your shoulders and you were met again with the handsome young man who was dining with you. 

"It was you who made me do this,Lady Y/N.Your cat would have been alive had you not shown your selfish act in front of me in that dining room and angered me." 

Your heart started beating crazily fast at the man's words. 

"Now, if you don't want your precious father to end up in the same state as that cat, I suggest you come with me and decide our wedding date with your father, hmm?"

He says, a psychotic smile on his face, yet looking angelic as ever. 

You nodded. You laid down Mr. Whiskers and covered it with a cloth. 

Hoeseok offered you his hand, which you  took to get up. 

" As ladylike as ever, indeed you will not disappoint me." He says. 

You mustered a smile and stood up to bow down to Hoseok.

" I will do my best to serve you."

You managed to stutter out.

"The colour green suits you. It's my favourite colour as well.Did you know that?" He asked. 

You shook your head negatively.

"But I will keep it in mind, sir" you say, gulping and looking down. 

He puts his hand under your chin and lifts your face up close to his. 

"I'll have dresses made for you in every shade of green,whatever you want, you will have it. You just have to love me. That wouldn't be so hard to do, would it , my darling?" 

"Of course not, sir! I already love you from the bottom of my heart and will try my best to please you as your wife." 

Hoeseok smiled at your response , knowing he had broken you. 

He offered you his arm, to which you immediately linked yours with, and led you to the dining room of your house, where your father awaited, to give him the news of his daughter's engagement.

#bts yandere #yandere oneshot #bts oneshots #idol singer #kpopidol #yandere bts oneshots #yanderecore #mediaval #yandere hoseok #yandere hobi #hobi x you #hoseok #yandere oneshots #vintage men #dark aesthetic #j hope bts #yandere #yandere jhope #jhope headers #jhope yandere #hobi hobi #idolcore #businessman au #possessive #bts × reader #bts fanfic #yandere bts #bts army #bts x reader #bts jhope

[teriyaakis]

Jhope moodboard 🎀

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#bts #bts jimin #bts jungkook #kpop layouts #bts v #bts jin #bts rm #bts suga #kpop moodboard #bts jhope #hobi moodboard #hobi layouts #hobi icons #bts hobi #hobi x you #j hope bts #jhope icons #jhope moodboard #jhope packs #jhope headers #jhope #bts icons #bts headers #bts moodboard #bts layouts #kpop icons #kpop random #kpop boys #kpop #coquette moodboard

[hobipaint]

Peppermint Mocha

synopsis: Wanting to break away from the hubbub of the big city life, you decided to return your quaint, tiny town, seeking solitude. However, you meet Hoseok, who seems way more familiar than he should, and your solitary vacation takes a turn - for the better, or for the worse?

genre: fluff

word count: 4.6k

rating: pg13

a/n: A very happy new year, everyone! And especially to the amazing @the-boy-meets-evil - jess, I was so glad I could be your secret santa this year! carol worked hard on her puns hehe :) i hope you enjoyed my asks and this fic! i'm so sorry for the delay in sending out this gift, but i hope you enjoy the extended holiday spirit :) and for everyone reading, I hope you have an amazing 2024!

written for the @kpopsecretsanta secret santa event! | my masterlist

The holidays always went a little too fast for your liking. You didn’t know when it Christmas had come, shown its colours, and left; it felt like yesterday that you were preparing for Halloween. And yet, the wispy bits of fluffy snow falling from the sky said that it had been long since that time. You could feel the frosty bits of snow crunching under your feet as you trudged out of the airport into the lanes of the town. 

In the distance, you could see the festive hubbub that surrounded your town - with officials figuring out logistics for lights and trees, vendors setting up their markets and little kids toying about with the snow: everything was exactly the same as you remembered when you had last been here. 

“10 years,” you whispered to yourself, a small smile forming on your lips. “Hello again.” 

Your family had once called this town home, back when you and your siblings were young kids. Time had flown away like the little snow flakes did now, and forced you all to move away from your home to build a future of your own. Normally, you would have wanted to be with your friends and family to celebrate the holidays, but something oddly made you want to come back here. 

Making sure you had your belongings, you asked around to figure out where your lodge was located, not recognising a lot of the shops that now decorated the streets. Your parents had recommended a lodge they had first stayed in when they came here, one out of two cabins owned by a family friend who had since shifted to New York. They let you rent out one for the holidays, and encouraged you to get acquainted with the stranger who would be renting the other cabin around the same time - “wouldn’t hurt to make a new friend,”  they’d said. 

A tap on your shoulder broke your reverie. “Y/N?” A voice called behind you, making you turn to face the person in question. Dressed cosily in a green sweater that screamed the holiday spirit with vibrant red hearts and candy canes all over it, it was a man, snowflakes settling in his fluffed up brown hair. He was tall in a way that made you stretch your neck up to look at his big smile, and his eyes had a soft crinkle to them, as if you had just shared a funny anecdote. 

“I’m Hoseok,” he mentioned, stretching out a hand. “I figured you’re the other person staying at the Woodson’s cabin, aren’t you?”

You accepted his hand, surprised at the warmth instantly engulfing your frosty fingers. “Yeah, I am. How did you know it was me, though?” 

He grinned, tilting his head to look at your heavy bags - as if they were a clear indication. “No one really travels alone with three big bags to this town unless they’re planning a long vacation.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess that kinda gave it away.” You could feel him staring at you as if trying to figure out what kind of a person his neighbour for the next few days was like. 

Hoseok flashed a friendly smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve got my car here, so if you don’t mind, we can get to the cabin together? Let me help you with those bags." He effortlessly grabbed two of your heavy bags, leaving you with just one.

“Thank you,” you said, following after him and settling into the warmth of his car. Helping him load your luggage on the car, Hoseok immediately ran off inside the car, immediately cranking the heat on. You couldn’t help but laugh as he gestured for you to come in quickly. 

“Not a fan of the cold, I presume?” you asked. 

“Brrrr,” he shivered, rubbing his palms together and blowing at them. “I love the aesthetics of cold weather, but absolutely hate the feeling of cold.” Starting the car, he slowly drove out of the parking lot, suddenly grinning to himself. “By the way, Y/N? You haven’t asked me for any proof of who I am,” he hesitated, looking over to you cautiously as if to detect any signs of panic. 

You froze at his words, realising his perspective: you had just trusted an absolute stranger and gotten in the car. “Should I be worried, though?” You tried to play it off casually. 

“I would suggest being worried, and not being relieved until you were sure I was the right person to approach you,” he said, lips pursed and hands tense on the steering wheel. “I could be really dangerous.”

For some reason, that stunned you, and yet, it made you burst out into laughter. 

Hoseok looked at you confused. “What?” 

Gasping for breath, you could barely stop your laughter enough to calm Hoseok’s concerned face. “Mrs. Woodson is a family friend, Hoseok. She’d already told me about you, and how you’ve been here for a few weeks at the cabin. I did recognise you a few seconds after you spoke to me.”  You grinned. “It would have been concerning if I did blindly trust you and get in the car, though.”

Hseok dramatically breathed out, as if a huge tension had been lifted off of his chest. “Well, at least you knew who I was. Imagine if you didn’t know anyone or anything in this town and got all lost? I would feel terrible.”

You settled into your seat, humming in agreement with him. “I do know this town well enough, though. I have lived here for long enough to know these streets, even if they’re more colourful now than then.” 

Hoseok smiled. “Ahh, so you lived here too.”

You turned to him in surprise. “You, too?”

He nodded. “I lived here for some years when I was younger. I don’t have very strong memories of this place here - I moved away with my dad after my parents divorced, you see - and came here only sometimes to visit my mom while she still lived here. And when all my family moved from here, I didn’t really have a reason to come back here as much.” He smiled softly. “But then, I just felt like I wanted to be here this year, alone, yes, but in a place I first started enjoying the holidays.” 

You hummed in agreement, understanding the sentiment.

He pointed to the houses you were crossing outside, all cheerfully decorated in lights and decor. ‘I used to rank the houses by their decor every year, and then go to the house I ranked first to tell them that they won,” he said, making you both laugh. “I wonder if the owners are still the same people.” 

“I would hope so, too,” you said. “‘My family and I had loads of friends we lost touch with. It would be nice to meet some of them.” 

The road to the cabin was a long one, you knew, and yet, you weren’t as bothered about travelling a long distance as you thought you would be. Hoseok’s company and your childhood nostalgia got the best of you, keeping the conversation in good spirits as you made your way to the cabin.

As you climbed the steps up to the Woodson's cabin, Hoseok spoke up, "By the way, if you ever need anything or have any trouble, feel free to knock on my door. We're practically neighbours for the next few days." He knocked at his door jokingly, before showing you into your cabin.

You nodded in gratitude, feeling a sense of warmth in both the gesture and the offer.

The Woodson's cabin was a rustic haven nestled amidst a picturesque snowy landscape. Its exterior, adorned with a glistening layer of snow, exuded a quaint charm that perfectly complemented the festive spirit of the holidays. A trail of footprints led to the wooden porch, where a wreath of pine cones and twinkling lights welcomed visitors.

Upon entering, the warm aroma of burning pine logs greeted you, emanating from a grand fireplace that stood as the heart of the cozy abode. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on the log walls, revealing a collection of Wooderson family mementoes – framed photographs capturing moments of laughter, family gatherings, and snowy adventures. The memories were frozen in time, a testament to the cabin's rich history and the cherished moments shared by generations past.

The living area featured plush, oversized chairs and a well-worn sofa, adorned with festive throw blankets that beckoned you to sink in and relish the comfort. The windows, framed by heavy curtains, offered panoramic views of the snow-covered landscape, while the soft glow of fairy lights added a touch of enchantment.

In the corner of the cabin, a towering Christmas tree stood adorned with an array of ornaments, casting a festive hue that bathed the room in a warm and inviting light. A quaint dining table, draped with a red-and-green checkered tablecloth, held the remnants of a shared meal, as the remnants of peppermint hot cocoa lingered in the air.

The Woodson's cabin was a rustic haven nestled amidst a picturesque snowy landscape. Its exterior, adorned with a glistening layer of snow, exuded a quaint charm that perfectly complemented the festive spirit of the holidays. A trail of footprints led to the wooden porch, where a wreath of pine cones and twinkling lights welcomed visitors.

Upon entering, the warm aroma of burning pine logs greeted you, emanating from a grand fireplace that stood as the heart of the cosy abode. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on the log walls, revealing a collection of Wooderson family mementoes – framed photographs capturing moments of laughter, family gatherings, and snowy adventures. You could spot your family and more familiar faces in the frames: the memories were frozen in time, a testament to the cabin's rich history and the cherished moments shared by generations past.

The living area featured plush, oversized chairs and a well-worn sofa adorned with festive throw blankets that beckoned you to sink in and relish the comfort. The windows, framed by heavy curtains, offered panoramic views of the snow-covered landscape, while the soft glow of fairy lights added a touch of enchantment.

In the corner of the cabin, a towering Christmas tree stood adorned with an array of ornaments, casting a festive hue that bathed the room in a warm and inviting light. A quaint dining table, draped with a red-and-green checkered tablecloth adorned the center of the cabin as the fragrance of toasted peppermint lingered in the air.

Hoseok bashfully scratched his head. “I may or may not have used your stove to make myself some Christmassy drinks.”

You grinned. “Was it something with peppermint?” 

“How did you know?” Hoseok asked, nodding in agreement as he stacked the washed and dried mug back in the cabinet. “I’ve always loved a good old mint flavoured drink, and ‘tis the season for peppermint, isn’t it?”

Seeing your vigorous agreement, Hoseok offered to whip up a drink for you while you settled your belongings in the cabin. 

“I’ll start the fireplace,” Hoseok called after you, busying away in the hall while you made your way to the bedroom. 

It felt like ages since you had sat by yourself, giving yourself time to do nothing. 

After you had moved away from your hometown, your life had been consumed with racing against the clock. With all your hardwork, you had been successful in your education, your career, and you had a place that you called your own. And yet, there were barely moments where you got to enjoy the time you so rightfully deserved to give yourself. Running around to prove yourself had only made you deprive yourself of your own time, seldom finding it in your busy hubbub. 

And now, as you overlooked the snow-laden mountains, with the town distantly coloured in a warm hue, you felt your shoulders melt into a more carefree, comfortable posture. You deserved this, you thought to yourself. It was more than worth it to come here, all alone, and enjoy one vacation in solidarity. You deserved the time all to yourself. 

And plus, Hoseok’s here for company, you added, feeling more and more resolute in your decision to take a break from the festive season. 

“This tastes really good, and I say that as someone who barely drinks coffee,” you hummed, hands wrapping around the warm mug that Hoseok handed to you.

He occupied the other end of the sofa, matching mug in his hands, crossing his legs comfortably. “That’s mainly because of the peppermint, Y/N. It adds a sense of uniqueness to the otherwise common coffee and elevates it.” You giggled at his narration as he indicated to his mug as if pitching a billion-dollar idea. 

“I noticed you like peppermints a lot,” you said, sipping away at the drink. “I like them too, but it is rare to find a fellow lover.”

“Oh, I love them!” Hoseok beamed eagerly. “Peppermint mochas are probably my favourite thing to make over the holidays. It is the only time of the year where it tastes just right and fits in, you know?” 

“My family used to make peppermint-infused hot chocolate,” you grinned. “It used to taste amazing.” 

As the crackling fire painted a warm ambience across the cabin, a subtle wave of nostalgia washed over you. The flickering flames seemed to dance in sync with the memories of holidays long gone, reminding you of the lively chaos that filled your childhood home during this time of year. 

Hoseok, sensing a shift in your demeanour, looked at you with understanding eyes. "Something on your mind, Y/N?" he asked, the glow from the fireplace casting a gentle warmth on his features.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, "It's just that... well, I miss my family. The holidays were always about being together; this year, being here alone feels different. I mean, it's wonderful to be back in this town, but the absence of their laughter and the familiar holiday chaos is hard to ignore."

Hoseok nodded empathetically, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I get that. Family has a way of making this time of year special. Maybe we can bring a little bit of that magic here. What's something your family always did during the holidays?"

As you shared tales of your family's traditions, Hoseok listened attentively. You don’t know when you two had started shifted closer, but soon enough, you and Hoseok were slapping each other on the arms while laughing away at old, embarrassing childhood stories. 

“I can’t believe you would do that!” you laughed, wiping a tear away from your eyes. Hoseok chuckled at your state. 

“Well, its at least better than when my family paraded me as baby Jesus on Halloween - my neighbour’s kid actually thought I was him,” he added, making you laugh even more. 

Outside, you could see the snow settling up higher and higher, and soon you and Hoseok decided to bid goodbye for the night. While walking him out, you chatted about more anecdotes from your time in this town - and you found yourself thinking, this vacation isn’t off to a bad start at all. 

Just before saying your goodbyes, Hoseok's eyes caught something above the door – a delicate mistletoe, adorned with tiny white berries, hung there as if placed by some unseen holiday fairy. A mischievous glint sparkled in Hoseok's eyes as he gently pointed upward.

"Well, look what we have here," he remarked with a playful grin, drawing your attention to the festive foliage above.

Your gaze followed his, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as you realized the implication. The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and a warm flush crept up your cheeks. Hoseok, with a charming smile, took a step closer, the glow of the cabin's lights framing his silhouette against the snowy backdrop.

"Tradition dictates that if two people find themselves beneath mistletoe, they share a kiss," Hoseok said, his voice low and filled with a playful warmth. “Unless they both don’t consent, of course.” 

You hesitated, before responding. “I’m single, so - unless you don’t want to -”

Before you could fully complete your words, Hoseok leaned in, closing the gap between you. Time seemed to slow as his lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, capturing the essence of the winter night and the enchantment that hung in the air. The snowflakes continued their silent descent around you, adding a touch of whimsy to the unexpected yet welcomed moment.

As his lips parted from yours, you could feel the frosty snow take away his warmth, and you oddly wanted nothing more to pull him back and kiss him. 

But he was already walking away, promising to see you the next day. “See you tomorrow, beautiful."

The mistletoe kiss had cast a spell, and the days that followed became a tapestry woven with the threads of shared laughter and newfound connection. The town, now dressed in the shimmering aftermath of Christmas, beckoned the two of you to explore its post-celebration charm.

In the heart of the town, where the streets turned into a canvas painted with the hues of festive lights, you couldn't help but marvel at the lively holiday market. "It's like walking into a snow globe," you mused, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes.

Hoseok grinned, the glow of the lights accentuating the warmth in his eyes. "A magical snow globe where every shop is a treasure trove waiting to be discovered."

The vendors, like holiday artisans, showcased their creations with pride. Hoseok found himself drawn to a quaint bakery where the scent of peppermint-infused pastries lingered in the air. "I can almost taste the nostalgia in these," he remarked, savoring a bite of a holiday treat.

You chuckled, a melody that harmonized with the festive ambience. "Nostalgia is the secret ingredient that makes everything here taste like a piece of childhood."

As you both strolled through the town square, the ice-skating rink unfolded like a winter dreamscape. People of all ages took advantage of the icy wonderland, gliding and playing around on the ice. "Care to join me?" Hoseok extended his hand, the invitation echoing your kiss from a few nights ago.

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. “As long as you don’t make me fall,” you remarked, making him laugh. 

Evenings were a journey through the luminous streets, where each step resonated with shared stories and whispered dreams. The glow of holiday lights reflected in his eyes as they approached midnight. Hoseok, holding Y/N close, whispered against the backdrop of fireworks, "Here's to new beginnings."

It was almost as if the post-Christmas festivities had turned the town into a living storybook, with Hoseok and you as its protagonists. The holiday magic lingered in the air, blending seamlessly with the enchanting connection that unfolded like the turning pages of a heartwarming tale. 

A chilly onslaught broke the rather pleasant dream you were having. Groggily, you woke up, wrapping the blanket around you strongly to block out the sudden rush of iciness. The fireplace weakly flickered, and you could hear the howling winds outside as a storm built up. 

Not knowing what to do, you decided your best option was probably to try to revive the fireplace and whip up something warm for yourself. You poked at the fire, but it seemed like it wouldn’t revive at all. As the firewood dwindled and the flames grew weaker, the bitter cold of the snowstorm seeped into the cabin, chilling the air and turning every breath into a visible mist. Despite your best efforts, the fire refused to revive, leaving you shivering and desperate for warmth.

“I did come here to be alone, but this is not what I envisioned,” you laughed to yourself, hugging your blanket tighter. 

Your phone was not getting any network, so you hoped that Hoseok would somehow be awake at 2 AM. Bundling yourself up to the best of your abilities, you set out to his side of the cabin, knocking at his door as loudly as you could. 

A few minutes later, a rather disgruntled Hoseok appeared at the door. “Is everything okay?” he rasped, hair awry and clothes haphazardly pulled on. 

“I think my heating is broken, and the fire isn’t reviving, either.”  You explained. 

“Ahh.” Hoseok welcomed you in his cabin - a near mirror image of your one - and let you settle up on the couch while he volunteered to check on your heating system. 

While Hoseok busied himself outside, you noticed how tidy Hoseok had kept the cabin. There were more photos here - though you could only recognise a few faces - and a few more albums, stacked on the table next to the fireplace. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to peruse through one of them, immediately finding pictures of people from your neighbourhood celebrating Christmas together. On some pages, you could find your own parents smiling back at you, with your siblings holding hands with the other kids from the neighbourhood and singing carols captured in a faded photo. 

 To your surprise, you stumbled upon a faded photograph of two young kids, clutching a bag of peppermints, wearing matching grins.

Hoseok stepped in at that time, and yet, in your shock, you could barely register any of the words he was saying.

"Hoseok, is this...?" you began, showing him the picture.

He glanced over and chuckled. "Yeah, that's me, and my neighbour’s kid. We used to be quite the troublemakers when our families spent holidays here together."

You smiled. “Do you know where this kid is now?”

“No,” he said, sadly. “I wish I did, though. We used to be best friends when we were younger, literally joined at the hip, but didn’t really stay in touch after I left. I sometimes do wonder about her.” 

You held the picture up to your face, making Hoseok face you. “Don’t you think something about us looks similar?” 

Hoseok frowned, judging the faded Kodak with your beaming face. “You do have the same eyes, now that you say it. She had very pretty eyes.”

“Do you not remember her name?” You asked. 

“We would call each other with nicknames,” Hoseok said, dusting the snow off his hair. “I used to call her Bunny, and she used to call me-”

“Hobi,” you completed, eyes gleaming. 

Hoseok looked stunned. “Yeah, that’s what she called me. How did you know that?”

You laughed at his oblivion. “Because I am Bunny, silly.”

“Wha-oh?” Hoseok exclaimed, bracing himself as you rushed to hug your childhood best friend. “Are you serious?” 

“I am,” you convinced him, finding it just as hard to believe as him. I mean, you don’t come to a cabin on the outskirts of the town looking for solitude only to bump into your childhood best friend again, do you? 

Hoseok pulled away from you, gripping your shoulders and letting his eyes take in every part of you - as if he were meeting you for the first time again. “I can’t believe it is you.” 

“Me neither,” you said, as you kissed his cheek. “It has been far too long, Hobi.” 

Hoseok's astonishment lingered in the air as you both navigated the surprising reunion. The faded photograph, a relic of childhood mischief, lay forgotten on the table, replaced by the incredulous exchange between Bunny and Hobi after years of separation.

The cabin, with its walls echoing with the laughter of yesteryears, seemed to encase the timeless connection that had just resurfaced. Hoseok's eyes remained fixed on you, his disbelief slowly giving way to the realization that the Bunny he once knew was standing right in front of him.

As the shock settled, you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer serendipity of the moment. "I never imagined I'd find Bunny and Hobi reunited in a cabin on the outskirts of town," you remarked, a playful gleam in your eyes.

Hoseok joined in your laughter, the familiarity of shared memories weaving a comforting thread between you. "It's like a plot from a nostalgic movie," he added, shaking his head in amazement.

The two of you, now seated on the sofa, exchanged stories of the years that had passed, bridging the gap between then and now. The cabin, a silent witness to the unravelling narrative, seemed to cradle the essence of your rekindled friendship.

As the night wore on, and the snowstorm outside intensified, the cosy cabin transformed into a haven against the wintry tempest. Hoseok, ever thoughtful, stoked the fireplace, the flames casting a warm glow on the shared stories and laughter.

The sofa, now an island in the sea of nostalgia, beckoned both of you to its comforting embrace. The flickering flames, the snowstorm outside, and the whispers of shared memories paved the way for an unspoken understanding.

"You know," Hoseok began, his tone gentle, "it feels like we never really left those days behind. Just picked up where we left off."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of belonging that transcended time. "It's like we're continuing a story that got interrupted."

As the night deepened, the warmth of the cabin and the shared connection became a refuge from the cold. The sofa, once a witness to the nostalgia of the past, now cradled the reunion of Bunny and Hobi.

Hoseok, looking at you with a softness in his eyes, spoke words that resonated with the atmosphere of the cabin. "I'm glad you found your way back, Bunny."

You leaned in, your shoulders brushing against each other, and whispered, "Me too, Hobi. Me too."

The flickering flames painted a dance on the log walls, casting shadows that seemed to waltz in rhythm with your shared laughter. The coziness of the cabin, the gentle snowstorm outside, and the rekindled friendship all merged into a symphony of comfort.

In the hushed moments that followed, the realization dawned that sleep was claiming its territory. The sofa, now transformed into a shared haven, invited both of you to surrender to its embrace.

"You know, Hobi," you said, your voice a sleepy murmur, "I never thought I'd find such warmth in the midst of a snowstorm."

Hoseok chuckled, the sound a gentle melody. "Maybe the storm outside brought us the warmth we didn't know we needed."

And so, amidst the crackling fire and the distant howl of the snowstorm, you and Hoseok snuggled closer, finding solace in the shared warmth. The flickering flames painted a canvas of comfort, casting a soft glow on your intertwined fingers.

And then, as if the universe had orchestrated the moment, your gaze met Hoseok's, and in that shared glance, a silent understanding bloomed. With a tenderness that mirrored the nostalgia of rediscovery, your lips met in a gentle kiss, sealing the night with a promise of new beginnings. The flickering flames seemed to dance in celebration, casting a warm glow on the cabin, now a witness to your reunion. 

As sleep began to weave its tranquil spell, Hoseok whispered, "I’m so glad I met you again, Bunny."

You smiled, the words a gentle echo in the cozy cabin. "I’m so grateful, Hobi."

While your previous year left much to be forgotten, it seemed that this year had begun with the embrace of an unexpected reunion, the flickering flames and the snowstorm outside bearing witness to the rekindling of a friendship that time had only strengthened. In the arms of the cabin, beneath the quilt of shared memories, you and Hoseok surrendered to the tranquility of the night, finding peace in the warmth of each other's presence.

If you made it till here, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed the fic - i would love to hear from you about it! love, hazel <3

#kss secret santa #kss2023 #hobi x reader #hobi fanfic #hobi fluff #hobi x you #hobi #hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok smut #hoseok scenarios #hoseok #bts jhope #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts fluff #bts hoseok #christmas #holiday season #club zerooclock #kbookshelf #castlebangtan

[sunnebeam]

good for a weekend.

DRABBLE.

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (yall know the drill, let's be protected irl), sex against a window, blank space au, chaebol!reader (she has issues), businessman!hoseok, profanity

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: took me a long time to choose the title for this one bc i just realized i already used a blank space lyric for jimin's drabble lol. but anyways here it is! idk the accurate word count but i think this is longer than all my other drabbles so far. enjoy <3 don't forget to share ur thoughts and give feedback ^^

When you were younger, you didn’t really understand why no one wanted to be friends with you.

Apart from your butler Yeonjun (who's paid to put up with your shit but is still genuine in his companionship nonetheless), a paintbrush and a canvas were the only real confidants you had for your pent up frustrations as a child.

Now that you're older, your isolation becomes more self-induced.

"Is it true that she's back together with Kim Taehyung again?”

“No, I heard that her family arranged for her and Park Jimin to marry next year...”

“But wasn't she spotted looking cozy with Jeon Jungkook at a bar last week?”

"No, no, I could've sworn she was hooking up with Min Yoongi—"

"Damn, she's going through men way too fast, don't you think?"

“Honestly, I think she's just a spoiled, rich playgirl."

You sigh, sitting on your chair in the art room of your very own mansion — a gift from your father after he missed out on your eighteenth birthday — while Yeonjun watches you paint your heart out.

“I haven’t seen Kim Seokjin around lately…” he muses as he steps closer to look at your work. By the looks of it, you must be feeling some pretty angry emotions.

“Silly Yeonjun,” you giggle too loudly, hand gripping your brush rather forcefully as you stare at your palette. “Seokjin and I broke up ages ago. Actually, I haven’t seen him since the haircut incident.”

Ah, the haircut incident…

Yeonjun shivers, remembering that outburst all too well. The memory of you hysterically chopping off your hair in a fit of jealousy while Kim Seokjin helplessly tried to get you to stop. That marked the end of your six-month relationship, leaving you with uneven chunks of hair and the man with a questionable restraining order.

Not your best moment, that much you can admit.

“Anyways,” you snicker, shaking your head to clear the onslaught of memories, “let’s not talk about him anymore, ‘kay?”

You stand up, leaving your painting half-finished, and walk over to the big floor-to-ceiling window.

Your mansion is the biggest in the area, filled with numerous rooms and spaces that far surpassed the amount you need for basic living. Your art room – easily the biggest room, even topping your master bedroom – houses a beautiful glass window that overlooks the property.

“Besides,” you say, clapping your hands, “we have more important things to worry about.” You turn to him and squeal, jumping up and down. “My art exhibit is in a couple of months! Can you believe it, Yeonjun?"

Your excitement has you skipping around the room in glee. You’ve been planning your own exhibit for months and now that it's drawing nearer, you feel more excited than nervous. You hope with all your heart that this exhibit could finally paint you in a proper light, letting you shine as 'the young, twenty-something art extraordinaire' instead of the 'resident fuckgirl who's only good for a weekend.'

“I know, sweetie.” Yeonjun smiles, feeling genuinely happy for you. But before he can further share in your excitement, the doorbell rings.

The noise makes you glance at your watch and smirk. Right on time.

Together, you and Yeonjun walk down the massive staircase to greet your guest, and Jung Hoseok hears you before he even catches sight of you — the clicking of your heels resonating loudly across the living room. He turns his head to the sound and smiles handsomely at the both of you.

For a few moments, none of you say a word but the electricity between you and your guest is hard to ignore.

"Shall I leave you to your business?" Yeonjun breaks the silence, directing the question at you. After all, at this point, he already knows the drill whenever you have your guests over.

You nod, never taking your eyes off Hoseok's and your butler immediately excuses himself.

Once it's just the two of you left, Hoseok holds out a hand to you. “Jung Hoseok. Pleasure to meet you."

You tell him your name, placing your hand in his and immediately, he brings it up to gently brush his lips against your knuckles. “Pleasure's all mine, Hoseok."

“Just Hobi is fine, gorgeous."

He winks at you and smiles. And just like all the other times, you feel yourself falling. Spiralling. Obsessing.

“Hobi…” you repeat, “shall we go over the terms of your company's sponsorship for my art exhibit?”

“Of course,” he responds. "Shall we discuss it in your office?"

"Oh no," you feign disappointment.

"What is it?"

“I'm terribly sorry, Hobi,” you utter, “but my office is under renovations at the moment—"

(It isn't.)

"—and I’m afraid it's not convenient for business discussions for the time being.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok muses, his eyes on your lips as you purse them contemplatively. “Should we take our discussion somewhere else, then?” He offers, not wanting to cut his visit short.

He stares right into your pretty eyes and he swears you've performed some sort of magic right then and there because he finds himself right under your spell.

“Good idea." You smile, your hand sliding up to rest on the crook of his elbow as you lead him up your stairs. “I know the perfect place.”

And that's how he found himself in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your immaculate bed with your head bobbing up and down between his legs.

"Shit," he curses when you take him deeper in your mouth. "Yeah, that's it, gorgeous."

You look up at him with wide eyes, making sure to maintain eye contact when you swallow around him. He bites his lip at the feeling, his thumb reaching out to wipe the stray tears running down your cheek.

You look so pretty. So fucking gorgeous.

Hoseok wonders how the hell he managed to get an invitation to your bed. Sure, he's quite attractive but you're in a whole other league of your own. You're way up there on a pedestal, you and the other chaebols in your wealthy family's circle. Whereas, he's just a mere businessman trying to negotiate a sponsorship proposal.

But, fuck, he's not complaining.

You whine when he pulls you up and onto his lap, your lips releasing his dick with a pop. Feeling needy, you suckle at the soft skin of his neck while he desperately removes your clothes and then his.

"Hobi," you whimper into his neck and the sound goes straight to his already hard cock. "Need you. Please."

"Shit," he groans when you rub your leaking core against his thigh. "Hold on to me."

You comply, wrapping your arms and legs around him, and he stands up to walk the both of you towards your bedroom's clear, glass window. Just like the one in your art room, this one spans wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, and overlooks the front of the mansion.

He sets you down on your feet and turns you around so that you're looking out. Your pussy dribbles even more arousal at the sight of your enormous front gates from the distance, the thought of being seen turning you on.

"Hobi," you whine when you feel his throbbing cock prodding at your entrance, and push your ass out in response.

"Don't hold back, gorgeous," he tells you when you let out a muffled moan. "I want the whole mansion to hear you."

He enters you swiftly, making you groan loudly and press your palms against the window. He pulls back, making you whine desperately and shift your weight on your feet. He slams back inside roughly, making you scream incoherently and fuck yourself back on him.

"That's it," Hoseok groans, "fuck me back."

And you do.

He thrusts into you in rough but deep thrusts. You fuck back into him, arching your back, causing your tits to press against the glass. The added stimulation to your nipples makes you play with your clit, making figure eight motions and heightening your pleasure.

"Shit, gorgeous. You're creaming."

He sees a creamy ring of white on the base of his cock and curses, the sight pushing him closer to his climax. You only whine in response, clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Hobi, I'm gonna—"

"Cum with me, gorgeous," he coaxes you. "Now."

You obey, cumming around him while he finishes inside you. You're breathing heavily, relishing in the warmth of his release and he just chuckles affectionately at your fucked out face.

He pulls out of you and when you lead him back to your bed, he suddenly feels exhausted. His eyes can barely stay open and the last thing he remembers before sleep takes over him is your voice telling him three little words.

When Hoseok wakes up, he sees you all dressed, propped up on the headboard and glaring at him.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" he asks groggily.

"Who's Sooah?" you ask him immediately, your voice clipped.

"What?"

You show him the unlocked phone in your hand. His phone.

"What the fuck? You went through my phone?"

"She was texting you nonstop. Who is she?"

"She's a colleague, not that I need to explain myself to you. And she's the venue coordinator for your art exhibit!"

"I don't beleve you!"

"How the fuck did you even know my password?"

"Are you cheating on me?" you demand, tears falling down your face.

"Cheating on you?" he repeats your question incredulously. "We literally just met!"

But you aren't listening to him. No, you're spiralling, clutching your hair and looking at him desperately. "Did I do something wrong? Is she prettier than me? Is she—"

"You're insane," he cuts you off, frightened at your sudden behavior. As quickly as he possibly can, he puts on his clothes and scrambles towards your bedroom door. "Fuck this shit, I'm leaving."

To his surprise, you don't follow him, though he can hear your heartbroken wails all the way to the front door. When he gets to his car, his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

"WHAT THE FUCK? YOU WRECKED MY CAR?!" he yells, the question directed at you but his exasperated eyes are trained on his wrecked vehicle.

The punctured tiles, cracked windshield, and dented exterior would cost him a fortune. But he decides that's a problem for another day. Right now, he just has to get out of here.

"Crazy bitch," he mutters when he finally exits your property gates on foot.

Back in your room, you cry your heart out while Yeonjun caresses your hair comfortingly.

Your butler knows the drill by now. You just need one day to cry all your tears, another day to forget about it, and around three more days to move on.

Which is why, a few days later, Yeonjun opens the door to a charming, dimpled face. He leads the man to the living room where you're waiting and leaves you two to your business.

"What's your name?" you ask your guest.

"Kim Namjoon," he replies, taking your hand and kissing it. "Pleasure to meet you, gorgeous."

A heartbeat. Then another.

And then you smile.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#bts x reader #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #bts imagines #bts fic #jung hoseok imagines #jung hoseok fic #hoseok imagines #hoseok fics #jhope imagines #jhope fic #bts x you #jung hoseok x you #hoseok x you #jhope x you #hobi x you #bts x y/n #jung hoseok x y/n #hoseok x y/n #jhope x y/n #hobi x y/n #cat.writes

[wildestdreamsblog]

BTS Members Masterlist

He had to make sure that the two of you would have the happy ending you and him deserved.

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Hiraeth - You had always been his, and anyone who tries to take you away from him will pay a dangerous price. 🍷🥃🍸

Drabble 1

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[singguks]

yellow thread ✩ hoseok !

hoseok x fem! reader fluff • 1,090 words

IN WHICH... on a magic summer day, Hoseok meets you. He thinks it's love at first sight, but you choose to believe in destiny instead.

Hoseok hurried through the bustling streets of Seoul, the sweltering summer heat clinging to him like a second skin. He had reluctantly agreed to go summer sales hunting, tasked by his sister with finding a gift for his cousin’s upcoming birthday. As he weaved through the crowded shops, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of aimlessness. 

Meanwhile, you were on your own mission, searching for the perfect birthday gift for yourself. It was never a tradition of yours to treat yourself on your special day, but this year, since you were spending it alone in the big city due to a tight schedule and many of your friends being off for summer vacations, you decided to go with it. To not let the date end without a memorable something. 

And so, as you perused the racks of a trendy boutique, your eyes land on an embroidery corset, a piece that you knew to be one of a kind. It was exactly what you had been envisioning to end the day with a cherry on top. 

But as you reach for it, your hand collides with another. You turn to face the stranger in question, who wore a surprised expression. Your eyes meet, and an awkward silence falls between the two of you. 

“I…uh…sorry, I was reaching for that corset,” you stammer. 

Hoseok’s eyes twinkle with mischief upon hearing your words. “Oh, really? Well, it just so happens that I had my eye on it first.” 

You glance at the corset still on the rack, it’s the last one hanging, and you cannot give it up. A playful glint flashes upon your eyes, “Well, it’s my birthday gift to myself, so I’m afraid I can’t back up on this.” you say, unsure if the stranger eyeing you back will care enough.

You both stand there, locked in a momentary standoff until Hoseok’s lips curl into a mischievous grin. “Alright, you win! Consider it a birthday gift from me.” 

Your surprise quickly transforms into a smile, your eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you! That’s very kind of you.” 

As you exchange pleasantries and part ways, you direct yourself to the register and he trails off to another rack trying to find something else, Hoseok can’t help but eye you again, finding you intriguing. There was something about your spirited nature that had captivated him. And so by the time you finish paying, and come to his aid instead of leaving the boutique offering help to find him something else, you had his complete attention. You had both just agreed that the embroidered small purse was an equally good choice of a gift when he musters the courage to ask for your number, hoping for a chance to see you again. But you already had someone. Not a boyfriend, nothing official… Still, it seemed wrong even if Hoseok tugged at something different in your heart, and somewhat a thing you weren’t looking for at the moment. So with a playful smirk, you suggest that fate should bring you together instead. 

“If we’re meant to meet again, we will,” you say with a twinkle in your eyes. A silly naive thought, or maybe a birthday wish. 

Hoseok can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment in your response. After all, what were the odds of crossing paths in a city as vast as Seoul? Unlike you, he isn’t very sure if he believes that kind of stuff. And so thinking that was your polite way of refusing him, he accepts your words with a smile, secretly hoping that for the first time, his beliefs are wrong so your paths can intertwine once more. 

What he doesn’t know is, after he goes about his way with discouraged shoulders and the simmering thought he had just lost what felt to be a nice encounter, you halt in your steps in the busy street, feeling regretful. In a quick change of mind, you decide to go back to the boutique after him. But to your demise, Hoseok is long gone. 

That day soon flies from both of your minds as time goes by, being replaced by a series of other meetings, memories, and eventful lifestyles. And then three years passed, and Hoseok finds himself sitting in a quaint cafe, sipping on his coffee. Lost in his thoughts, he barely notices when the door chimes, announcing a new arrival. But as he looks up, his heart skips a beat. 

There, standing before him, was you, a familiar smile on your lips. Your eyes meet, and a surge of recognition washes over you both. It was a serendipitous reunion, as if the universe had conspired to bring you back together, and that translates into the way you look at him. 

Hoseok first asks you to sit, shiply calling for the waiter to take in your request. You share your stories, laughter, and memories that bridged the years apart as you wait for warm cups of coffee, one with extra creme on yours and one refill for him. It felt as though time had stood still, and your pull toward each other had only grown stronger. 

In the vastness of Seoul, amidst the bustling streets and crowded cafes, fate had played its hand, this time in an autumn run for a hot beverage. And in the end, it was your shared serendipity and unspoken connection that prevailed, leading Hoseok and you back into each other’s lives. 

As Hoseok watched you finally save your number on his phone, with a euphoric smile on his face, he acknowledged that sometimes, against all odds, the universe conspires to reunite two souls who are destined to find each other in the most unexpected places. 

“So… Did your cousin like the purse?”, you ask him, returning to the moment you first met. 

He laughs amused, and then with a heart-shaped smile and his head gently tilting to the side, he looks at you with a certainty you had never experienced before. “You know… I should send her a text asking. Or just thanking her for being born,” you see yourself chuckling at his response, “Otherwise, I would never meet you.” 

“Maybe I’m too trusting of the universe, but after today- After you… I think we would meet no matter what,” you confess, still hypnotized by the joy his eyes shower you with. 

You notice that the corners of his lips pull ever so softly, and his eyes shift shyly to his fingers entangled in his mug instead. “I’m a believer after all… Who knew!”

✩ taglist !

@magicshopew @september-husband @sofiameetsevil @telejoonie @itshanic @hobilyss @dropsofjoonpiter ☆ @narimiese ( for our birthday girl ) ☆ @socksjinie @starvvie

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[eoieopda]

Hi! I’m here for your 2k drabble requests. I’d love to see a drabble of Hobi with the only one bed trope! 💜

behold: my hobi brain rot, lol.

the one with hoseok and the magic fingers

pairing: jung hoseok x gn!reader type: drabble | genre: fluff | wc: 1.3k summary: your company didn’t make the necessary reservations for the trade show you’re being forced to attend. now what? au: co-workers to ? | rating: pg13* | cw: none *regardless, my content is not for minors. minors or ageless blogs who interact with my content will be blocked.

You do not dream of labor. More importantly, you do not want a career; you want to sit on a porch with a stupid little beverage, enjoying a stupid little breeze. Unfortunately, as you know, capitalism. So, when your stupid little job requires you to attend a stupid little conference, you go.

This time, your involuntary non-vacation involves a trade show in Changwon, three (3) days of listening to men with half your experience talking twice as much as you, and one (1) meal voucher per day. In all this overcast, you’d found a single, silver lining: Jung Hoseok, the only person on your team that doesn’t make you want to walk into a forest, never to be seen again.

Now, Hoseok stands at the reception desk, visibly struggling to maintain his customer service voice. Across the counter, the hotel’s overnight manager squints down at her computer. No matter how close her nose gets to the screen, no reservations appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she all but cries. “I’ve checked and re-checked, but there’s nothing here for either of you. Are you sure that your company finalized the reservations? They would’ve needed to confirm them on the new system. They just rolled it out, and it’s —”

She trails off with a displeased wave of her hand and a grimace.

The new system is garbage, perhaps?

Hoseok turns to look at you over his shoulder. He’s grinning in an unsettling way, one that doesn’t meet his eyes. Subtly, he mouths lobotomize me, please, and you have to clench your jaw shut to keep your laughter to yourself. It exits through your nose instead, so forcefully that you have to pretend like you’ve sneezed.

He pretends not to notice.

Charmer that he is, Hoseok places his fingers down against the counter — gently, distinctly non-threatening — and lays it on thick. “Are there really no rooms available? Not even a supply closet with some cots?”

Those sparkling doe eyes should’ve earned him the presidential suite, but they don’t.

“No, sir.” The manager frowns. “But there’s a — umm — establishment two streets over that’s sure to have space. It’s — ehh — quaint?”

For the first time, you peep, “Is that a statement or a question?”

The manager goes beet red.

With a twitch at the corner of his mouth, Hoseok looks at you. As he does, one eyebrow flexes briefly in a way that makes you a little bit flustered. Worse, he winks when he laughs, “There’s your answer, I suppose. Shall we establish ourselves, then?”

———

It took longer than it should’ve to locate the motel in question, and even longer for the pair of you to force yourselves out of Hoseok’s Kia. When you finally slid out of his passenger seat, you turned to grab your suitcase from his trunk— only to find that he’d beaten you to it. He’d ignored the way you frowned, sauntered right by you with your luggage rolling behind him.

“D’you think anyone’s ever died in here?” He’d mused without turning back around.

You hadn’t bothered to smother the laughter bubbling up as a result of his unexpected — yet shockingly on-brand — query. You’d simply followed behind him and stepped through the door he’d held open for you.

Another reception desk, another manager bracing themselves before giving disappointing news, another pointed look exchanged with your co-worker — whose eyes were much prettier than you’d previously realized, in a strictly professional way, and whose slightly disheveled hair had started to fall back over the forehead he’d pushed it away from, and —

“The single is the best I can do.”

You blink slowly, having seemingly blacked out during the first half of the conversation. Unabashed, you cannonball back in: “Huh?”

Hoseok doesn’t have time for this, if the way he grabs the sole key off the counter is any indication. Shoulders sagging, he’s travel-weary and it shows. So, he dangles the key ring off of his index finger and wiggles his brows.

“I won’t snore if you won’t,” he teased.

———

The circumstances don’t truly click until the lock does; door opening wide to reveal the lone double bed at the center of an unimpressive room. The carpet beneath it is a dingy, cotton-candy blue. It’s so shaggy that it flutters with the breeze of the AC unit in the window, which horrifies you. The aforementioned window is sealed around the unit with duct tape and part of a cardboard box — and it’s damp.

“Stale,” you mutter automatically. “This is the motel equivalent of an expired Saeukkang.”

Hoseok’s laugh is musical as he sets your suitcase on the foldable rack near the thick, boxy television. He drops his own onto the ground next to it, though it doesn’t make a sound when it hits the carpet. With his eyes narrowed so completely, it’s difficult to tell if he’s truly perceiving any of the other decorative horrors around you. But he must, because he clicks his tongue, gesturing to the bed.

Eyebrows raised, you follow his pointed finger with your eyes. Immediately, they widen.

You scoff, “Oh, what the fuck?”

Affixed to the left-side nightstand is a small metal box with a bouquet of wires jutting out from the side. They trail down the table leg, along the seam where the wall meets the carpet, and presumably connect to the back of the bed frame. Your gaze zeroes in on the blatant coin slot carved into the box. Instinctively, you shiver.

Hoseok bravely crosses the room to read the tiny label on top of the box. He stares, disbelieving, with his mouth slightly open. Then, he speaks as if reading it out loud will make any part of it make sense.

“Magic fingers?”

———

“Do —?” You pause, pointing between yourself, the bed, and your coworker. “Is this —?”

Said co-worker has apparently decided to ruin your life by packing grey sweatpants in lieu of actual pajamas. Part of you longs for the bygone days of absurd and abjectly sexless sleepwear. Only an Ebenezer Scrooge-style nightgown and cap can save you now.

Bastard.

Hoseok doesn’t answer with words because he seems to sense that they’re lost on you; he just drops down onto one half of the mattress. Then, he has the absolute audacity to beckon you with a curl of his finger. You’re frozen — he senses this, too — so he proceeds to pat the space in front of him.

Well, if he’s normal about this, then why shouldn’t you be?

You suck in a slow, conflicted breath.

Fuck it.

Your pulse handles it well when you close the distance between the corner you’ve banished yourself to and the bed. Unfortunately for you, it takes a flying leap when you sink into the reserved half of the mattress. Not bold enough to face him — or, rather, be nose to nose with him — you lay on your back and blink up at the ceiling. Suddenly, you’re very aware of your limbs, so you clutch your hands to your chest, knowing full well that your mummified posture is ridiculous.

What was that about being normal about this?

A few moments of silence pass. As they do, you know Hoseok’s watching you — can feel him watching you. You can feel the playful tug at the side of your pajama shorts, too.

“Cute,” he murmurs. He’s correct, after all. They’re a dusty pink with a scalloped hem, and they are cute.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye like a fucking weirdo, just in time for him to look up at your face. He smiles, then pulls his hand away only to stuff it in the pocket of his sweatpants. When it emerges again, he’s holding a coin that had no business being held in his sweatpants, but that he’d clearly stowed away in furtherance of the bit.

Pinched between the pads of his thumb and index finger, he holds it up between you. It catches the light while he looks pointedly from you to that stupid little box on the nightstand.

With a grin that makes you more than a little flustered, he snickers, “Wanna see a magic trick?”

#jade writes #jade’s drabbles #jade’s requests #re: the one with hoseok and the magic fingers #jung hoseok #hoseok #hobi #bts #bts drabble #bts fluff #hoseok drabble #hobi drabble #hoseok fluff #hobi fluff #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #hobi x reader #hobi x you #hobi x y/n #btshoneyhive #micdropnet #trashlibrary #2k drabblepalooza

[sailoryooons]

Trick or Treat! Skittles + Dwight Schrute + Beetle Juice

I an excited to see where this ends up 🫡

❀ Pairing: Hoseok x (gn) reader 

❀ Summary: A chance encounter at a Halloween party reveals someone you thought you’d never find. 

❀ Word Count: 827

❀ Genre: Soulmates, strangers to something, chance meeting

❀ 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: Depicted scenes in a large crowd that can be a little claustrophobic, a little bit of anxiety, that’s about it! 

❀ Published: October 16, 2023

❀ A/N: WELCOME TRICK OR TREATER! For your skittles, Dwight Schrute costume and Beetle Juice movie, you have been awarded Hoseok at a costume party with a soulmates trope!! I tried to actually write this as a very whimsical and sweeping but I don’t know that it worked rjodigjdoigj I hope you enjoy!! 

❀ 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.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests |

It starts with a brush of skin. 

Such an innocent, quick thing. Just the knocking of hands as the dance floor surges, pushing people together before pulling them apart like schools of fish. Normally, you wouldn’t think twice about someone’s hand knocking into yours. 

This time it's different. 

A hand knocks into yours, sending a bolt of electricity up your arm. You turn your head sharply, looking for the source of the sudden bolt of energy. There’s a press of people in costumes and masks, a whorl of colors and faces and creatures. 

Dark eyes catch yours for the briefest moment and it feels like the rest of the world fades away. Gone is the giant Halloween party in the middle of a massive club. Gone is the music and the swaying bodies, the sweaty crowd and the pointed limbs slamming into you as people go by.

Something slides into place. A key to a lock, a piece to a puzzle. You’d thought you had been operating at a hundred percent before, but this is entirely new. Suddenly, you cannot imagine life without this person, this touch against your hand. Only now do you realize you’re complete. 

It’s just you and him. His face is hidden by a mask but his eyes are endless pools of dark, so captivating that you think you could tip over and fall into them forever without complaint. 

He clasps your hand for a moment and you grip his back. Your fingers feel warm where they grip his skin, your breathing uneven as your heart rate speeds up. His grip is desperate and intoxicating, your skin buzzing where your touch meets.

People knock into you sharply and your grip slips. You gasp, surging forward to find that hand again, the one that you know you are destined to hold. 

You feel empty without his touch. Panic seizes you as you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to find him. You shove at the people next to you, trying to push back toward him. The crowd is thick and the lights are dizzying, spinning your thoughts out of control.

Your heart beats wildly, your pulse throbbing in your neck. Blood rushes in your ears as you slip between two werewolves fist-pumping, careful not to let them step on your toes. You finally manage to make it where you think you saw your masked stranger, but he isn’t there.

Spinning in a circle, you look for him. Helpless. Lost. 

You have to find him - need to find him. You chase that spark between you, trying to remember what it felt like just moments before it was taken away. Shoving through the crowd, you look for him. Your stranger in the mask. Your soulmate. You’re so sure of it. 

A soulmate is a rare thing. So rare that they’re coveted members of society now, almost a fable. You’ve dreamed of having a soulmate since you were little but never believed you would find one. Never thought that you, of all the millions of people in the world, would be promised another person. 

Someone just for you. 

Now, you search for him all over, driven by the need to see him again. To hold his hand. To know his name. His eyes haunt you, so dark and clear and beautiful. 

Someone grabs your arm. You turn around ready to yell at them and shake them off - don’t they know you have a soulmate to find? 

But your words die in your throat as you face a masked man with dark eyes. Your pulse quickens and he slides his hand from your elbow to your fingers. The skin-on-skin contact ignites and you shiver, a sense of safety rippling through you. 

Suddenly, it feels like you have two heartbeats. Two bodies. Two minds. You stare up at him, a smile slowly curling your lips as you breathe out shakily, twining your fingers with his. Feeling how tangible and solid he is, how real and warm and alive. 

Carefully, you reach up with your other hand to pull away the Halloween mask to reveal your soulmate. 

He is ethereal. Golden boy, woven with threads of light and dark. He watches you, a careful expression on his face as you drink in the slender, elegant slope of his nose, the delicate curve of his cheekbones, the gentle bow of his mouth. He is beautiful and glowing like the sun is trapped inside of him, begging to be let out. 

Your fingers brush his jaw. He shivers under your touch, leaning into it, his eyes fluttering shut. No one pays any attention to the two of you, holding steadfast in a chaotic body of dancers. When he opens his eyes, he smiles. Enchanted. 

“Hi,” he breathes, voice sweet and warm like a fire on an autumn day. “I’m Hoseok.” 

“Hi.”

“I think you might be my soulmate.”

You grin. “I think that I am.” 

His grip on you tightens. “My soulmate.”

#hoseok fic #j hope fic #hobi fic #jung hoseok fic #bts fic #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #j hope x you #hobi x you #soulmate au #haliween

[hajimakitten]

𝙁𝙀𝙏𝙄𝙎𝙃 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙈𝙔 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀. | a dom!hoseok x reader one-shot

Author's notes: ready for a little sexy time with jay? below the cut is a bit descriptive with sexual content, so 18+ only for this.

Hoseok stood in the dimly lit room, his presence commanding, his eyes burning with desire. Dressed in all black leather, he exuded an aura of dominance that left a trail of longing in his wake. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and tonight, he wanted to take control.

His gaze fell upon his significant other, Y/N, who stood before him, anticipation evident in their eyes. They were the perfect canvas for his desires, willing to submit to his every command. Hoseok's lips curled into a devilish smile as he spoke, his voice laced with authority.

"Tonight, my love, you will surrender to me completely. Are you ready?"

Y/N's breath hitched, their voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Sir. I'm ready to submit to you."

His eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and possessiveness. He stepped forward, his fingers trailing along the delicate curve of Y/N's jaw. "Good. Remember, I am in control. Your pleasure, your satisfaction, everything is at my discretion. You are mine to command, to please."

Y/N's body trembled under Hoseok's touch, their eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and need. Hoseok's hand trailed down their spine, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. With a firm grip, he guided Y/N towards the bed, their bodies melding together in a dance of dominance.

As they lay upon the sheets, Hoseok's voice took on a sultry tone, each word dripping with desire. "Undress for me, slowly. Let me feast my eyes upon your beauty."

Y/N complied, their movements deliberate and tantalizing. The air crackled with anticipation as they revealed their bare skin inch by inch, baring themselves to Hoseok's hungry gaze. Their submission fueled his dominance, heightening the intensity of the moment.

Hoseok's voice lowered to a husky whisper, his words igniting a fire within Y/N. "On your knees, my pet."

Y/N obeyed, sinking to their knees before him, their eyes never leaving his. Hoseok's hand tangled in their hair as he leaned down, guiding their head forward to his until their lips met in a searing kiss. The taste of their desire mingled, fueling the flames of their passion.

Hoseok's touch became firmer, his voice commanding. "Take me into your mouth, Y/N. Show me your devotion."

Y/N's lips parted, their tongue swirling around him, eliciting a groan of pleasure from Hoseok's lips. The dance of dominance continued, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, each touch and caress imbued with intensity and power.

Hoseok's voice grew more demanding, his words pushing Y/N to the brink. "Look at me."

Their eyes locked, their souls connecting in a moment of unbridled passion. Hoseok's grip tightened, his voice laced with authority. Their hand slid down between her thighs to start playing with their self as their head bobbed up and down on him. And as Y/N's body quivered with anticipation, the pleasure building to an exquisite peak. But just as they were on the edge of release, Hoseok stopped everything, denying them their climax.

A whimper of need escaped Y/N's lips, their eyes pleading with Hoseok for release. But Hoseok held their gaze, a wicked smile playing upon his lips.

"Not yet, my pet," he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction. "I control your pleasure, and tonight, I want to savor it."

With a swift motion, Hoseok pushed Y/N onto the bed, their bodies entangled in a passionate embrace once most of his clothes were off. His hands roamed their bare skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His touch was firm, demanding, igniting a hunger within Y/N that burned with an intensity only Hoseok could stoke as he pushed inside of them.

Their bodies moved in sync, a symphony of desire and submission. Hoseok's commanding presence drove Y/N to new heights of pleasure, each touch pushing them closer to the edge.

With every stroke, every whispered command, Hoseok brought Y/N to the brink of ecstasy, denying them release time and time again. The anticipation built, the tension mounting until it was almost unbearable.

Finally, when Y/N's pleasured desperation reached its peak, Hoseok relented. With a commanding thrust, he pushed them both over the edge, their bodies convulsing in a shared climax that sent shockwaves of pleasure through their veins.

As the waves of ecstasy subsided, they lay entangled in each other's arms, their breathing ragged, their bodies slick with sweat. Hoseok pressed a tender kiss to Y/N's lips, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"You took me so well, baby," he murmured, his dominant facade softened by tenderness. "Knowing that you have so much trust in me... it makes me lose control."

Y/N's voice was filled with contentment as they nestled against Hoseok's chest. "I'm yours, Hobi, body and soul. I trust you more than anyone else."

And as they lay entwined, the night stretched out before them, a canvas for their desires. In the realm of passion, Hoseok reigned supreme, and Y/N willingly surrendered to his every command, knowing that with him, their pleasure knew no bounds.

#bts #bangtan #bts army #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #hoseok #bts one shot #hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x you #hobi x reader #hobi x y/n #hobi x you #jung hoseok #j hope smut #hobi #bts angst #bts imagines #bts x you #hajimakitten

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Where there's Sunshine, there's Midnight Rain

Pairing: Idol!Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of struggle, fluff, established relationship, no mentions of reader's gender.

Summary: J-hope is sunshine in human form, but that makes him the midnight rain too. A short imagine of the reader helping Hoseok understand this.

masterlist

Another night, tossing and turning alone in a big bed. Waiting.. hoping, for the one who is the hope for a million people around the world. Another night spent reaching the cold side of the empty bed, staring at the sky counting down the minutes till daylight, sighing endlessly. Another night hoping hobi would return to you.

He's been home for a week since the tour but he hasn't been home since then. Even the bags were dropped off by his manager, who has visited three times since to collect the things he needed. As far as you knew there was no comeback anytime soon. There was effectively no requirement for him to stay over at the dorms at least for the next two weeks. Especially when he has a home studio set up in the house you both had bought together and decorated.

His not being home has become a routine, a habit even- albeit an excruciating one. What hurts more is the silence, even when on tour he texts or calls at least once a day. Sighing you open the same old chat to see the latest message from a week ago, the same text you have seen a million times till now.

Boarding the plan home. See you soon.

You scroll up the familiar chat screen and see that the messages become less expressive as the tour progresses. You also remember how the news articles and fan tweets raved more about J-hope the idol’s brilliance on stage at the exact same time. Another pattern you are used to, for every emoji his messages as j-hope had, Hoseok's messages became curt and to the point.

Once again, this isn’t new to you or him. In fact, you both met at the peak of j-hope and the absolute low of Hoseok. You might not have been a die-hard fan of the group but you knew enough to know j-hope was not the same shy, anxious and silent Hosoek you’d met by chance in that café. The contrast between who he has on stage and the person you grew to love were stark opposites. Not that you never saw the sunshine hobi, but he was present almost in equal parts as the Hoseok who walks around with a cloud on his head.

But Hoseok never went silent on you in this way. He might be verbally silent for days or weeks together but expressed his feelings in other ways. This time he was completely absent and that simply wouldn’t do. You gave him a week to himself and he still hasn’t returned home. This will simply not do.

And that’s how you find yourself at the door of his studio, at 2 AM, covered in layers of jackets and holding a bag of the dinner you’d made him today- just like you have done every day the past week.

You hesitate outside the studio, looking intently at the door as you contemplate knocking. You know he’s there, instinctively and also because you asked his manager. Huffing out another deep breath you knock on the door.

Silence.

That’s all there is for a minute before you try to open the door yourself, surprised to find it unlocked. You enter the room which reeks of the familiar scent that screams everything hobi- sunshine, flowers and carefree happiness, only to find your boyfriend curled up on the couch hugging his knees with his head down. You close the door slowly and go near him, he's shivering. The sight of him shatters your heavy heart and you reach out to caress him.

"hobi...", your voice comes out as a meek plea.

He shudders for a second and lifts his head up to look at you. His eyes are bloodshot, his usually plump cheeks stained with tears and his heart-shaped mouth in a frown. You drop to your knees and hold his face in your hands, helping him look at you eye to eye. His eyes immediately dart down and he lowers his knees. Just as he can try to push you away you sit next to him on the couch and turn him towards you. You hold his hand with a grip that tells him that he cannot run anymore.

"Please leave me alone." He begs, more tears streaming down his exhausted and ashamed face. You offer him a smile, not one of pity or empathy, just a smile of love.

"You had enough time. I won't let you hurt on your own."

Your voice comes out harsher than you intended but it works as he looks up, eyes now curious. In that second of pure vulnerability, he looks like a child. You reach out and wipe those damned tears away from his face and he leans into your touch.

When he talks again his voice cracks, "I knew I would end up hurting you eventually."

"You didn't hurt me hoba." He looks at me pointedly, "Of course, I did... look at us. I spent a week in the studio because I am too fucked in the head to be with you. All the other guys went home and are happily resting with their partners and I left you alone after months of being away... all because I feel like a fraud. Because I can't figure out why I am this way and why I never have any of me to give you. When I should be giving all of me to the one I love with my whole heart."

By this time he is on your lap, your fingers running through his hair, his hands holding your other hand for dear life.

"Everyone is a little messed up in the head. But it is even harder for someone like you who spends all his time giving every bit of happiness and kindness to everyone around you." You hear him sigh and he starts drawing patterns on your palm as you do the same with his scalp. "I don't really do all that you know..", he sounds unsure and you sense the venom of self-hate dripping in his tone.

"They call you human sunshine for a reason hobi."

He freezes in place for a second and nods slightly. You pause for a minute to look at him, really look at this exhausted, loving human who does so much for everyone around him and so little for himself. He notices the long pause and starts with his patterns again on your palm and settles on your lap. You realise that he needs to see himself for all he is and accept all that as it comes. And you hope he will let you stand with him the whole way.

"Hobi, you are human sunshine. I know it makes you happy to make everyone smile, to take care of your brothers and friends. I know you love being the reason to light up someone's day and being their hope. I also know that you do that because it's what gives you hope for yourself. But...". You pause to gauge his reactions but he shows none and taking that as a good sign you continue.

"But the thing is you are not sunshine... you are human. To be human is to understand that where there is sunshine there is also midnight rain. The more you give, the more you need to. To be sunshine is to burn yourself for others and that is not good for you. So it is okay for you to take your time. To soak in your rain, to be silent and just receive. It's okay for you to rest and pause... Hobi, it's okay for you to receive my love and happiness so that you can give it back tenfolds. You are human and you need your own dose of sunshine too."

He looks up at me with wet big eyes, this time the heart-shaped mouth turned upwards. He slowly gets up, never letting your hand go and moves closer and pulls you in a hug. He holds on to you until there is no space between both of you and rests his head on your shoulder. You reach out one hand to caress the back of his head and hold him by the waist in the other hand.

Time ceases to move as you both sit there, him slightly whimpering into your shoulders and you trying to ease all the pain from him. Hoping that the personification of hope himself will learn to accept himself- one deep breath and a tear at a time. Hoping that he can learn to embrace the rain that follows Hoseok by being the sunshine that j-hope is.

#bts jhope #jhope #hobi x reader #hobi x you #hobi x y/n #jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope x y/n #hobi comfort #jung hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x oc #hoseok x y/n #hoseok comfort #jhope comfort #jhope angst #hobi angst #jhope oneshot #hoseok angst #hoseok oneshot #hoseok scenarios #hobi fanfic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #jhope fluff #hobi fluff #bts fanfction #bts fanfic