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sailoryooons · 1 year

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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

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jae-bummer · 1 year

Text

Practice Room of Doom

Request: Hello! May I request j-hope with the quote “Don't look at them. Look at me." Maybe where he encourages her to street dance, but she’s very shy. Or whatever you come up with. Thank you!

Prompt:

2) "Don't look at them. Look at me."

Pairing: BTS J-Hope x Reader

Genre: Fluff

This moment felt oddly reminiscent of your first day of kindergarten. As an adult, you never thought you'd find yourself sitting crisscross applesauce on a foam mat, waiting for your teacher to walk into the room.

Maybe "teacher" wasn't exactly the correct word. Instructor? Dance Master?

Nope, that made it weird.

"I smell burning," your friend, Bee, sighed. She gave you a side eye. "I think you're thinking too much."

"Or you're having a stroke," you muttered. "Burnt toast?"

"Burnt brain," she laughed, smacking you on the shoulder. "What are you worrying about over there?"

"Oh, I don't know," you sighed. "Maybe the fact that I haven't danced since our fourth-grade pageant where I was, for whatever reason, cast as Abraham Lincoln."

"Your beard was very impressive for a nine-year-old."

"I hate you and I want to go home."

"It's going to be fiiiine," Bee cooed. "We're going to learn a badass dance from someone who is really well known in the dance world, and then that'll be it."

"That'll be it," you nodded. "It's just that simple."

"Absolutely," your friend grinned before looking away. "And then we'll film our choreo for the YouTube channel and I'll take you for boba."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, gaping.

"You like boba," she continued nonchalantly. "Personally, I prefer the fruit smoothies, but-"

"Before that," you croaked.

"We're going to learn a badass dance," she nodded.

"After that."

"Oh, filming?" she said, furrowing her brows. "Yeah, the studio's YouTube is pretty well known, so they film when they have different guest instructors in."

"Okay," you sighed, moving to stand up. "That's it, I'm-"

Just as Bee had grabbed the bottom half of your hoodie and began to tug you back down, excited whispers filled the room. Looking up from your semi-kneeling position, you were knocked on your butt when a small group of people walked in.

One of them you recognized as the studio owner. You had seen her advertisements enough to place her face. Next, you identified her main dance instructor, who happened to have Bee drooling on a daily basis. And the third person didn't resonate with you, but you did have to reconcile with one thing.

He was hot.

Like melt your face hot.

Walking in with a confident swagger, his dark eyes swept across the room in quiet assessment. As if you manifested it, his gaze settled on your body now sprawled across the floor. You watched in horror as the corner of his mouth hitched up to a smirk before he looked away again.

"Dancers!" the owner called, clapping her hands. "I want you to meet our guest for the next few days, Jung Hoseok!"

The crowd erupted into applause as Hoseok took a bow.

"Am I supposed to know who he is?" you whispered, clapping nonetheless.

"Probably not," Bee chuckled. "I wouldn't have expected you to, but I think everyone here just creamed their jeans."

"So eloquent with words, best friend," you muttered.

She rolled her eyes before continuing. "He's a big deal in the dance world."

"I gathered."

You focused again on the stranger. He would be a big deal in any world. He radiated a sort of...lightness that only grew brighter as he waited for the applause to settle. Dressed in fitted, red, Nike joggers and an oversized white tee, you were surprised at how his simplicity made him look so cool. He wore a cap, turned backward, a small blessing that allowed you to really see his handsome face.

And that smile.

While he was already bright on his own, the grin kicked it up at least another hundred watts.

"Thank you!" he laughed as the clapping dyed down. "You guys can call me Hobi."

"Ho-bi," a gentle whisper of the crowd echoed across the room. This caused Hoseok to peel into laughter.

"We're going to work on learning some choreography today," he nodded after pulling himself together. "We'll get the steps down, and then I want you guys to pair off to practice. We'll give you the day tomorrow to perfect your movements, and then we'll be filming some clips the day after. Sound good?"

A muddled cheer lifted into the air as people began to wiggle to a standing position. Getting up on wobbly legs, you looked around the room and let out a sigh of relief. It was packed with at least 30-40 people. The chance of anyone noticing you besides Bee was pretty slim and you wanted to keep it that way.

The lesson went relatively quickly. You did much better than you had anticipated and actually felt a little flutter of happiness as you and Bee practiced side by side. The dance was much sexier than anything you would have attempted on your own (if you had even attempted to dance in the first place).

"Great job!" Hobi called, panting as he walked in between the dancers. "You've all got so much talent!"

You looked around at everyone who had expressions similar to your own. Pure joy and pride lit up the room.

"Now! Before we all go, I want you to split off into pairs or groups of three to practice tomorrow!"

"Hobi?" a girl toward the front row asked. Timidly lowering her hand, she waited until Hoseok turned her way, eyebrows lifted. "Will you be picking someone to film with tomorrow as well?"

"Ah, yes!" he laughed, clapping his hands. "I almost forgot. Who wants to be my partner?"

You could feel yourself shrinking into your own shoulders as he scanned the room. People squeaked and jumped, nearly every person holding their hand in the air.

To your horror, and Bee's delight, Hobi stopped his pacing and settled himself in front of you. "What's your name?"

You looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to open your mouth.

"Y/N!" Bee called behind you, leaning forward to shake your shoulders. "That's their name."

"Y/N," Hoseok said thoughtfully, crossing his arms. "Looks like I'm taken! Y/N is my partner!"

Your stomach felt like a lead weight as you trudged up to the door of the dance studio. While other groups were practicing wherever they saw fit, you had agreed to meet Hoseok back at the studio you had been tricked into participating in yesterday. It was never your intention to even be filmed. You had fully planned on learning the dance that evening and never showing your face there ever again.

Walking through the door, your feet led you to the practice room of doom. Standing outside for a moment, you watched through the small window as you saw Hobi freestyling something you hadn't learned the previous day. A light sweat already glistening on his tanned skin, you tried to tamp down the inappropriate thoughts swirling in your head. Swallowing, you set your hand on the handle and pushed.

Immediately stopping his motions, Hobi ran to the speaker to turn off the music pumping from his phone. Turning to you with that trademark smile, he waved.

"Y/N," he said, crossing the room to take your hand in his. "We were never properly introduced."

"Right," you cringed. "Hoseok, master of the dance."

What was wrong with you?

Hobi let out a huff of a laugh as he took a step back. "Is that what my new street rep is? Master of the dance?"

"I, uh," you croaked, wincing. "To be honest, I'm not that plugged in to what anyone's street rep is...let alone when it comes to well-known dancers."

"We'll change that," he smiled, patting you on the arm. You suddenly forgot how to breath as he looked you slowly up and down. "Ready when you are."

...

The torture was slow and painful.

You realized Hobi was a big name in dance, but you hadn't realized he would be as much of a perfectionist as he was. Since you weren't trained even a little bit, it made for a really rough lesson.

"I think I'm going to vomit," you whispered, falling to all fours on the hardwood.

"Water," Hobi nodded, immediately sweeping over to you with an ice-cold bottle. "You haven't been drinking enough."

"It'll just make me sweat more," you grumbled, plopping over. Whatever facade of elegance you had put on in an attempt to appease your instructor had dropped long ago. You had cursed, yelled, and nearly cried in front of him, so the charade was for nothing.

"That's good. It's when you stop sweating that we get worried," Hobi chuckled, crouching on the floor beside you.

Looking over, you were a bit surprised at how close he was sitting, especially considering how drenched you were.

"You did well today," Hobi said with a gentle smile. "And I apologize."

"For what?" you groaned. "Besides you know, nearly killing me."

"I should've helped you stretch first," he nodded with a grimace. "And maybe not have pushed so hard."

"Maybe?" you laughed. "Maybe I should have faked an injury at least an hour ago."

This caused a loud laugh to erupt from the man next to you. You had grown to love the sound over the past few hours.

"But then I wouldn't have the amazing, talented, and beautiful partner I do now," he grinned.

As you looked at him with wide eyes, your expression caused his own face to fall into something more static. "What?"

"At least two of those descriptors aren't true," you said quietly. Your eyes moved to your shoes. They were much easier to look at than him. "I just can't decide which ones."

"Hey," Hobi hummed, not shying away. He tentatively touched your chin before gripping it and redirecting your gaze to him. "You aren't giving yourself enough credit."

You chewed on your lip, searching his face for something you weren't even sure you'd find. "Why pick me? You watched us all. I wasn't the best. I wasn't the smoothest. I wasn't even the hottest if you wanted someone good looking for your video."

Hobi chuckled before dropping your chin and scooting so you sat shoulder to shoulder. "Want me to let you in on a secret?"

You nodded even though you were hesitant to hear what he had to say.

"It's not about being the best, or the smoothest," he said quietly. You watched in confusion as a blush began to color the tops of his ears. "And you should probably reevaluate the good-looking part."

You lifted your brows in surprise. This dancing sex God thought YOU were attractive? Well, I'll be damned.

"I picked you," he continued. "Because your shock at your own skills that day was a really amazing thing to watch. And I'll admit, I mostly did it because you thought I wouldn't."

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it again.

"Everyone can dance, Y/N," Hobi nodded. "It just matters if you want to try."

"There's at least a 70% chance that I'm going to make you look like an idiot tomorrow," you grumbled.

"And there's a 100% chance that I already make myself look like one every day," he grinned. "Who cares?"

"I mean everyone at the studio will be watching..."

"Don't look at them," he said firmly, causing your head to swivel in his direction. You locked eyes and nearly forgot how to breath. "Look at me."

The two of you remained locked in a staring contest, the room becoming significantly warmer for a different reason. Just as you were about to honestly ask Hobi, "What are we?" he conceded by reaching up and booping your nose.

"Did you just boop me?" you whispered.

"I don't know, did you think it was cute?" he laughed.

"Sure?" you smirked.

"Good," he nodded. Taking a moment longer to look at you, he finally pulled himself up and dangled a hand for you to take. "Should we get back to it?"

"Do we have to?"

"Yes," he nodded before a smile spread slowly across his face. "I have to start getting you prepared."

"For?" you asked, tilting your head. You had a funny feeling that he meant more than just the filming tomorrow.

"I'm thinking about taking up an instructor position here," he grinned. "And guess who's going to be my assistant for the foreseeable future?"

100 notes · View notes

myoongiverse16 · 10 months

Text

"You haven't had your first kiss yet"

BTS x reader

A/N: This imagine took a hecka ton of thought and it’s also hecka long but I promise it’s worth it😉. It also had me squealing and rolling on the floor, even though I wrote it😂.

Summary: You face the guys about not having your first kiss and it doesn’t quite go how you expected.

Genre: Fluffity fluff fluff

Warnings: Kissing🤓

WWH Jin 😘

A normal thing for Jin was to already be in your apartment waiting for you to come home. You had given him a key a long time ago, since you two were friends for quite some time now. This time you found him in the kitchen, again this was another normal thing for Jin to just show up and start cooking you food. It was especially nice when you had a bad day and you came home to your apartment smelling like heaven.

“Hi jagiya!” There was that nickname again, a thing that had been on your mind about confronting him about. You had no idea what it had meant, until a few weeks ago when you looked it up on google translate. This was something that made you wonder what you two were to each other.

“Hey, Jin Jin.” He smiled at your nickname.

“How was work today?” You sighed as you sat on a stool and splattered your arms on the counter in front of you. “That bad, huh,” he folded his arms on the counter across from you. You peeked up at him and nodded your head with a pout.

“I’m sorry, jagi,” he pouted. Then he smiled and shot up. “Let your Jinnie make it all better!” You smiled then sat up. “Hey, look! We already made progress!” He beamed then went back to the stove and served you a dish of whatever he was cooking.

“Here you go! Your favorite!” He placed a bowl of kimchi fried rice with a sunny side up egg on top. You sniffed then walked around the counter and hugged Jin.

“You're the best Jin,” you buried your face in his chest. He squeezed you back and rested his head on yours. You finally pulled away and your faces were now merely inches away from each other. You looked up at him and gulped. His half lidded eyes and plump lips were right in front of you.

“Jin?” You whispered.

“Yeah?” He breathed, then all of a sudden leaned in.

Now Jin, your best friend for almost 5 years, was kissing you.

This was your first kiss and Jin obviously had no idea, so you kind of just stood there with your eyes wide open as he held your shoulders and kissed you.

Realizing you weren’t kissing back, he pulled away.

“Is something wrong?” His eyes widened. “Oh no! Did I get the wrong idea?” You immediately shook your head.

“No!” You cleared your throat. “It’s just,” you sighed. “I’ve never had my first kiss before and I didn’t know how to react.” You shrugged.

“Oh,” his eyes widened again. “Oh no! Did I just ruin your first kiss too! I’m so sor-” You covered his mouth.

“Jin! No you didn’t ruin it! Why would I regret kissing the guy I like!” Your eyes widened at your confession. Jin’s eyes widened as he moved your hand away from his mouth.

“You like me?” You nodded your head shyly. He beamed then engulfed you in a hug.

“I like you too! Like a lot!” You giggled as he pulled away and extended his arms showing how much. You looked down and played with your fingers.

“Do you mind if we try that kiss again?” Jin’s eyes widened then he grinned.

“Of course,” He smiled then leaned in again. You moved your lips against his and he was very considerate and followed your lead as you tried your best to kiss him back.

When you finally pulled away you were a blushing mess, Jin chuckled at how flustered you were. You laughed then smiled at him.

Yoongs 🐱

You were in his studio, like always, helping him write and produce songs. This time was a bit different though. You had a nagging feeling on your mind about your nonexistent first kiss and you couldn’t help but want to turn to your friend for help.

You’ve heard of girls using their guy friends as practice for kissing. However, this was a bit different for you and Yoongi, since you didn’t really like him as just a friend anymore. You liked him a lot, but couldn’t find the words to express it.

Maybe this suggestion would be the first leap to your confession. You sighed internally as you tapped your pencil on the desk you were sitting in front of. Yoongi was to your left clicking away on his computer tweaking the song you two were working on. You pursed your lips and slightly turned to him.

“Hey, Yoongs?”

“Yeah?” He merely nodded his head not turning to you. You internally contemplated on if this was worth it. Screw it.

“I get that this song is supposed to be about love and such,” you shrugged. “But I haven’t really experienced that.” He finally turned to you and curled a brow. “Heck, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. So, how am I supposed to write the lyrics for this song?” You laughed nervously. He squinted at you. “Anyway, what I was really asking was if I could have my first kiss with yo-”

Yoongi interrupted your sentence by placing a soft kiss on your lips. Your eyes widened and you had no time to react as Yoongi pulled away then turned back to his computer casually.

“What the heck was that?!” Yoongi shrugged.

“Now you’ve experienced it. Write about it.” You gawked at him at how casual he was after kissing you.

“This conversation isn’t over Min Yoongi! You freaking kissed me! How could yo-”

He cut you off again as he kissed you yet again, this time placing one hand on your hip and the other on your cheek. He pulled away, his face still close to yours.

“What, was the other one not good enough or something?” You gulped.

“Well, I-I didn’t really have time to react,” you stuttered. He nodded his head.

“Okay,” he breathed, then kissed you again. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck, he smirked as you became more comfortable. You kissed him until you couldn’t breathe. So you pulled away catching your breath. He pulled away from you and went back to his computer like nothing happened. You sat there baffled at what just happened between you and Yoongi.

“Hey, get back to work.” He nodded at you with a serious expression. You scrambled to grab your paper and pencil. Out of your vision, Yoongi smiled to himself.

Hobi 🌻

You and Hoseok have been coming up with a routine for one of his new songs. Except this one was a bit different. This song was a love song and had a much sexier vibe to it than his others. The routine consisted of a lot of waist holding, hand holding and close proximity with Hoseok. And to make matters worse, Hoseok always got into the music whenever he danced, so he would stare at you very intensely causing you to blush every time.

This didn’t help your growing feelings for him and you couldn’t take it anymore. Especially whenever you finished the routine, since the ending consisted of you being merely a breath away from his lips.

Then afterwards he would pull away from you and give you his signature sunshine smile like nothing intense had happened.

Like right now, he smiled at you then went and grabbed his towel to wipe the sweat off his face. He took a swig of his water as you played with your fingers contemplating. He noticed your distress and walked back towards you.

“Hey, something up?” You looked up at him and sighed.

“Well, there’s something that’s been on my mind.” His eyes widened.

“Oh, well tell me and I can see how I can help.” You smiled at how considerate he always was.

“The thing is, since we’ve started doing this routine, I can’t help but think about how I haven’t had my first kiss yet and how much I just want to get it over with you know?” Hoseok only stared at you. “So, I was hoping, maybe you could hel-”

Before you could finish your sentence Hoseok spun you around. You were left confused as he held your waist and you two began to do a mini waltz.

Then you realized that he was going through the routine again.

“So, we’re going through the routine again? Okay,” your brows furrowed.

“Just go with it,” he said with a smile.

You shrugged and continued to go through the dance with him. He added a few things though, he spun you around more often and playfully waltzed with you causing you to laugh. He looked at you lovingly as you enjoyed dancing with him.

When the routine finished, he dipped you instead and broke the distance, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. Your eyes widened, but you responded quickly by kissing him back. He pulled you up, his lips still on yours and ran his hand through your hair. He pulled away catching his breath then beamed at you. You smiled then lightly slapped him.

“You planned that, didn’t you?” Hoseok chuckled then shrugged.

“Maybe.” You laughed then hugged him. You pulled away and looked up at him. He looked down at you like you were his whole world.

“I really like you, Hoseok,” you confessed. His eyes widened.

“You stole my line,” he chuckled. You laughed and he pulled you close.

“I really like you too,” he whispered in your ear and you smiled.

Joonie 🧠

You and Namjoon loved reading books, so it was normal for you two to sit in your living room reading books knowing you had each other's company. You two were actually reading the same book series however he was a book ahead of you. So after an hour of you two reading, you would discuss with him about what you read and give him your predictions. Sometimes he would make faces or hold back his laughter at your predictions because he already knew what happened.

Afterwards when you continued to read you would gasp and glare at Namjoon because one of the characters would die or your predictions were really wrong. If your predictions were totally off he would just look at you and stifle back a laugh but fail miserably as you pouted playfully.

If a character died, you would probably be crying and he’d be comforting you by rubbing your back and reminding you that this wasn’t the end and it’s just a thing that’s a part of all books.

However, today wasn’t one of those days. It was much different. You were reading the book on the couch, while Namjoon was reading the book that came after yours in the series on a loveseat across from you.

You were reading happily when the book took a slight turn. It came to a pretty heated scene and you couldn’t help but blush as you read it. It got so heated that you couldn’t keep reading, so you shut the book, a little louder than intended, and tossed it on the couch. You sat there flustered and uncomfortable.

Namjoon heard you shut your book and looked up from his own with a raised brow.

“You okay?” You nodded your head with a nervous smile. He wasn’t having it and closed his book. He folded his arms and looked at you skeptically. “The truth, please.” You scrunched your nose in frustration.

“Fine,” you sighed. “I just got uncomfortable with one of the scenes.” Namjoon immediately understood.

“Ah, you got to that part,” he chuckled. “I didn’t think you were going to get that flustered about it. It doesn’t really describe it in that much detail anyway. It’s not rated r that’s for sure.” You hugged yourself and sighed. He looked at you questionably.

“Hey, did I say something wrong? You still don’t look okay.” You pursed your lips.

“The thing is,” you played with your fingers. “I’ve never had my first kiss before and reading things like that just makes me a little uncomfortable since I’ve never experienced it.” Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“Wait, you’ve never had your first kiss?” He asked surprised. You nodded your head. “Oh,” he smiled at you then stood up and sat next to you.

“Well I can fix that.” Your eyes widened at how close you two were. “Do you trust me?” He whispered against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathed, then he broke the distance. He held your face delicately as he kissed slowly.

After a couple of seconds, he stopped, his lips still on yours, considerately giving you a chance to try. You obliged and tried your best to reciprocate what he had done.

When you both pulled away, he gave you a dimple smile and you grinned back.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time,” he confessed and your eyes widened.

“Really?” He nodded his head, then looked down shyly.

“Can I do it again?” Your eyes widened again then you chuckled.

“Please do.” Then he leaned in again.

Jiminie 🐣

Movie nights were very common between you and Jimin. Whether it be a Friday night or because a new movie came out that you two wanted to watch together. There were even times where Jimin spontaneously showed up with snacks and his favorite blanket wanting to watch a movie with you because he just felt like it.

The best times were when you were having a bad day and he would rush to your apartment with your favorite snacks, drinks, and your favorite movies on DVD because he said movies on DVDs just have a different vibe then just streaming it on the tv.

Today was just one of those casual Friday nights where you just put on a random movie the both of you had heard good things about. Everything was going swell, wrapped up together in Jimin’s favorite blanket, the blanket he has dedicated just for movie nights with you, popcorn in between the two of you splattered with all types of candy and your favorite drink in hand as the movie played.

You placed your drink down on the coffee table in front of you and glanced at Jimin who was watching the movie intensely. You internally giggled at how cute he was whenever he got captivated by the movie he was watching. You turned back to the movie and you wished you hadn’t. The main characters in the movie confessed their love for each other and started kissing intensely on the screen. You gulped and shyly looked away.

You were usually fine when scenes like this came up, but this time was a little different. You were with Jimin this time and you couldn’t ignore the feelings you’ve developed for him over the past few weeks since you two started this little tradition. You two were always so close to each other when you watched movies and you couldn’t help but want something more with your best friend. Not to mention you hadn’t had your first kiss so it was even more excruciating to be next to him while the scene drew on.

Jimin finally noticed how you were looking uncomfortable and paused the movie.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin placed the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and turned towards you. You hid behind your hands embarrassed that you got caught.

“Hey,” he soothed and reached for your hands. He pulled them away and his eyes widened.

“Oh, are you crying?” You sniffed and felt your cheeks. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until it was too late.

“Don’t look at me,” you mumbled and hid behind your hands again, Jimin frowned.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he removed your hands from your face again. He wiped away your tears with a sad smile. “I’m just going to keep asking.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.

“This is so embarrassing,” you muttered and he shook his head.

“Just tell me please,” he ducked his head and pouted at you. You giggled and he smiled. “There she is,” he grinned and moved a strand of hair out of your face. He nodded his head towards you and you pursed your lips.

“The truth is,” you paused. “I’ve never had my first kiss before and I want to, but I don’t know how.” You looked down again. Jimin’s eyes widened at your confession. He smiled sweetly and raised your chin up so he could look at you.

“Mind if I help?” You scrunch your eyebrows together.

“I mean, sure but I don’t know how you’re goi-”

Jimin cut you off as delicately placed his lips on yours. Your eyes widened as he placed his hands on your waist. You finally gave in and closed your eyes enjoying having Jimin’s lips on yours. You shyly kissed him back and he smiled into the kiss. He pulled away and chuckled.

“What?” You asked confused. He shook his head.

“Nothing, you’re just adorable,” he smiled then kissed you again.

Taetae 📸

You were one of Taehyung’s best friends because you two just understood each other. You both enjoyed fashion and photography. But the thing that you both had a passion for was song writing. He showed you some of his lyrics and you showed him some of yours. You two immediately hit off, having so many ideas bouncing back and forth between the two of you. You both got so much inspiration from each other. This caused you both to turn to each other when you needed help for the songs the two of you were each writing.

This time though, you and Taehyung were writing a song for the both of you. You couldn't really come up with a ton of ideas that didn’t involve a sappy love song so you decided to suggest something a little different.

You were in your studio spinning around in your chair as you contemplated about bringing up the suggestion to Taehyung. You sighed then stopped spinning. You saw him splattered on the couch in your studio staring at the ceiling thinking about the song.

“Hey, Tae.” No response.

“Taehyung?” No response. You sighed and groaned.

On occasion, Taehyung would get lost in thought. Especially in times like these when he desperately needed new lyrics for a song. You grabbed your pencil and frowned.

“Kim freaking Taehyung!” You shouted and chucked the pencil at him. He stirred like he was waking up from a nap and groaned.

“Ow!” He pouted at you as he sat up. “Hey, I was in the zone! Now we’re never going to find the right lyrics for our song!” You folded your arms in front of you and raised a brow.

“You done?” He sighed.

“Yes,” he muttered.

“Good, cause I actually might have an idea for the song.” His eyes widened and he beamed.

“Really what is it?!” You gulped.

“Well, it’s a little different,” You looked down and played with your fingers. Taehyung quirked a brow.

“Okay, I don’t mind.” He gave you a boxy smile, you breathed a laugh.

“Well I was thinking about writing a song about two lovers not having their first kiss and I thought it would be cool, since I haven’t had my first kiss either.” Taehyung immediately shot up from the couch.

“You haven’t had your first kiss yet?!” His mouth was agape at your revelation.

“Uh, no.” You were confused as to why he was so surprised.

“You,” he pointed to you. “The prettiest girl I know, hasn’t had their first kiss yet?!” Your eyes widened.

“Wait, you think I’m pretty?” Taehyung ignored your question and walked up to you.

“Does that mean you’ve never had a boyfriend either?!” You nodded your head. He placed a hand over his mouth and turned away from you. He took a deep breath and turned back to you, looking at you skeptically.

“You’re not messing with me right?” You shook your head.

“Why is it so hard to believe?” He laughed.

“I just can’t believe that you,” he motions to you. “The most perfect girl in the world hasn’t had a boyfriend let alone her first kiss.” Then he smirked and walked towards you. He stood right in front of you.

“How did I get so lucky?” He leaned close enough that your noses were touching, you gulped.

“What do you mean?” He breathed a laugh, you blushed as you felt his breath on your lips.

“I get to be the first one to do this,” he whispered then leaned in. Your eyes widened as Taehyung lifted you on top of your desk and kissed you passionately. You kissed him back and he smirked as you ran your hands through his hair.

When you pulled away he looked at you intensely and you gasped for air then laughed.

“Guess I can’t write that song anymore.” He smirked and shrugged.

“Guess not,” he licked his lips and leaned in again.

Kookie 🍪

Jungkook had constantly been on your mind for the past few days since you had been watching so many videos about kissing your best friend challenges. You couldn’t help but imagine how Jungkook would react. Would he kiss you back or would he push your face away disgusted by even the thought?

You didn’t know if you wanted to waste your first kiss on just a challenge for views on social media. You decided you weren’t going to do the challenge solely for that purpose, but instead confront him and ask if he could be your first kiss.

What’s the worst that could happen? He’d probably never want to be your friend again, but you thought that was slim since there were so many times when you caught him staring at you or glancing at your lips when you two talked. You decided to take your chances and ask him.

You found him in his room playing video games. You stood in the doorway contemplating all your life choices. You were about to walk away when Jungkook finally noticed you.

“Oh, hey.” He grinned at you and waved. You awkwardly waved back.

“Hey Kookie.” He glanced at you.

“You need something?” He asked as he continued to stare at his tv and play. You sighed and nodded your head. He continued to play and you frowned.

“I can come back another time.” Jungkook’s eyes widened as he saw you were about to leave again.

“No, don’t go!” He turned off his game and jumped on his bed. He patted the spot next to him.

“I always have time for you.” You blushed and he motioned for you to come over. “C’mon, I don’t bite.” You giggled and sat next to him. He turned towards you and grinned.

“So, tell me what’s up,” he asked with his head in his hands. You laughed and he beamed.

“Well, there’s something that’s been on my mind these past few days,” you looked down. “I was wondering, and you can say no if you’ll feel uncomfortable or if you don’t want to, but I was hoping I could have my first kiss,” you paused and looked up at him. He stared back at you with a blush forming on his cheeks. “With you,” you finished. He pointed to himself.

“W-with me?” He stuttered, you nodded your head. He cleared his throat. “Okay.” He scooted closer to you and took a deep breath. You closed your eyes as Jungkook leaned in and kissed you. You melted as you felt how soft his lips were. He placed his hands on your arms as you placed yours on his chest.

He pulled away and cleared his throat.

“You kind of messed up a bit at the end, I think we should try again,” he said in a serious tone. Your brows furrowed, but you nodded your head thinking Jungkook probably knows more about this than you do. He leaned in again but kissed you with a bit more passion this time. His arms moved up to hold your face tenderly while you placed your hands on his shoulders.

He pulled away out of breath.

“Third time’s a try?” You gasped for breath.

“Okay,” you breathed and he leaned in again. You hummed as his hands roamed around your body then finally landed at your waist. You placed your arms around his neck and ran your hands through his hair. He moaned and kissed you harder.

He finally pulled away and smiled down at you.

“You know, you’re a really good kisser.” You giggled.

“Thanks,” you looked down shyly. He gave you a bunny smile then lifted your chin up and kissed you again.

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lovesick-gxrls · 2 years

Text

LATE NIGHTS

june 1st 2019, 2:34am

pairing: choi mari x jeon jungkook

genre: fluff

description: mari and jungkook are the last ones awake after a concert.

word count: 500

mari sighed in relief when she felt herself land on her bed, closing her eyes as she rested her eyes letting her phone fall to her side. she had been scrolling through twitter for the past hour to see how fans had enjoyed the concert they had just done, smiling happily at the memories she had made.

it was getting late and she had gotten ready for bed nearly three hours ago. she knew that it was likely everyone else was sleeping, however, mari couldn’t sleep, she was still on a high from the nights activity. the brunette grabbed her book from the nightstand, flicking to the page she had dog-eared a few hours ago but when she began reading she felt restless, and put it down as quickly as she picked it up. with a sigh, mari grabbed her phone and checked through her messages, replying to few people and endlessly scrolling through social media.

her scrolling was interrupted however, by a quiet chap on the door. she sat up quickly confused at who could be awake knocking on her door. mari quickly made her way over to the door, prying it open ever so slightly only to see jungkook standing at the door in the bright hallway. his hood was up he gave a small smile, mari rolled her eyes letting the youngest enter. “i thought you were asleep,” she mumbled, as they made themselves comfortable on her bed, she switched off the main light so that it was only the small desk lamp that was on. “nah i’ve been up for ages, can’t sleep,” he replied. mari hummed, looking at him through her eyelashes, “how did you know i was awake?” she asked. “you were active on instagram,” he pointed out.

they both sat in chatting and laughing loudly together as they scrolled away on their phones showing one another posts every so often. “do you want to watch a movie?” mari asked suddenly noticing how much time had past. “yeah you pick,” he said causing mari to groan. jungkook laughed at her reaction knowing that she hated being the one to pick since she was so indecisive. “let’s just watch a marvel film then,” she muttered, sending a little glare at jungkook who just giggled.

as they sat and began to watch the movie, mari could see jungkook move over slightly closer to her. the warmth that was being radiated between the two was making her feel sleepy, she sighed in content as she leaned her head against his shoulder. thankful that sleep was finally on it’s way, mari relaxed and her eyes fluttered shut. jungkook noticed how quiet she had suddenly become and peered down to see mari sleeping. laughing quietly he did his best to slot themselves under the covers and wrap and arm around her shoulder.

mari leaned into jungkook’s touch as she feel into a deeper sleep. it wasn’t long until the lamp was off and jungkook was fast asleep as well.

mari m.list | masterlist

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likeastarstar · 2 years

Text

1:02 AM - Hoseok

You knew this guy.

He lived across from you, used to be all colorful and vibrant. He was always smiling and dancing and singing- he was a bit annoying actually.

You weren't really the most sunshiney person yourself actually, more of a black cat instead. People weren't interesting and you couldn't find yourself trying to relate to most men, let alone this one with his obnoxious laugh and constant need to have people over at his apartment.

There was this one time he practically broke into your apartment while you were clothed in nothing but a small towel on your way out of the shower- okay, granted, he had barged in because he heard your scream and thought something had happened to you- but it wasn't any of his business anyway!

It was embarrassing enough that you had let out a blood curdling scream all because of a cockroach, let alone that someone caught you at your worst. You forced him to kill the bug and shoved him out the door, your hair so wet it flung droplets of water onto his shirt and seeped through the material, making it stick to his chest and reveal-

Huh, maybe he's a little interesting at all.

You eyes barely lingered on the piercing pushing through sheer white material over his pec and you tilted your head, making eye contact with him for a brief moment before regaining the shield of annoyance you always wore and slammed the door in his face.

Ever since then, you've hated that guy so much you look for him just to glare at him, stare at his front door just a little bit longer when you walk out of your place just to make sure he stays in there. You rolled your eyes at him when he was in the elevator at the same time as you, flipped him off when you crossed paths at the grocery store one time.

Now, you make sure to go at that very same time every week just to get another chance to see him tell him off.

Except for now you never see him at all.

There was mail collecting in front of his door and flooding the mailbox and you never ran into him at all.

"Did that tool move? The one in apartment 924? The one who's always smiling? Brown hair, wide set eyes- he's kind of...like noodley?"

"Noodley?" The man at the front desk asked, raising his eyes, "You mean Hobi?"

"What kind of a name is Hobi?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Well, his real name is Hoseok."

Hoseok.

You felt your heart thud and your hands tingle, taking a step back as your eyes widened slightly. Hoseok. That was...that was a good name.

You wanted to wrap your tongue around it, push the sound from side to side in your mouth and chew up the syllables. You breathed it out, allowing yourself to whisper his name just once, just quietly.

"Yeah, that asshole- is he gone? I mean, did he move or something?" You repeated.

"No, not that I'm aware of. Next time I see him, do you want me to mention that you asked about him?"

"Do you want me to move?" You asked sarcastically, "No, absolutely not. Don't say jack shit."

You frowned and went back up to your apartment, wondering if you could let yourself say his name just one more time.

The next time you saw him, his hair was white and he looked tired, lugging a black duffle on his shoulder with a pissed off look on his face. You were stumbling on your way back from a club, slightly drunk but not drunk enough to forget that you absolutely had to order food right this minute, shuffling into the elevator staring at a menu on your phone.

You were staring so hard that you didn't realize anyone else was in the elevator, bumping directly into Hobi's chest when you walked in.

He grunted, looking down at you with a frown and an expression that said 'what is wrong with you?'.

You let out a squeak of surprise and backed up, eyes wide as your ass hit the wall opposite to him, staring at his appearance. You hadn't ever seen his hair like this- all short and spiked up and he was exhausted and annoyed by you and it was sexy.

"You're forgetting something," He grumbled quietly, cutting through the silence between you two with a voice barely louder than a whisper, deep in tone and gravelly with sleep.

Maybe it's because you were drunk, but it made you squeeze your thighs a little closer together.

You frowned and tilted your head, too focused on the adam's apple bobbing against his throat to respond verbally. Silently, Hobi picked up a manicured hand- black nail polish, sexy. Sexy- sexy- and flipped you off, his long middle finger paired with a bored expression on his face.

Your mouth fell open and the elevator dinged perfectly on time.

"Have a good night, nice dress." Hoseok said with a smirk, leaving you alone in the elevator without so much as a word.

You saw him more after that but something had shifted. He wasn't smiling as much, keeping to himself or always glued to his phone and a large pair of headphones that warded off any attempt at conversation.

Not that you'd attempt to talk to him either way- you weren't friendly, you hated him, remember?

It didn't make a difference to you until one day it did and the two of you were the only ones in the mail room, rifling through your three bills while he had about thirty unopened packages and a million more letters in his hand. He seemed annoyed by it all, shoving his headphones off of his head and driving a fist into his now jet black, short cropped hair. You eyed the way it stuck up straight and matted down in other spots where the strap of the headphones had been sitting, wondering what on earth he was always listening to.

You stared at him long enough for Hoseok to notice, a steely eyed look meeting yours out of the corner of his eyes, "You need something?"

"You're wearing black."

He frowned, staring down at the black painter style jumpsuit he had on, "Okay?"

"What's wrong with you?" You barked, frowning at him.

"Am I not allowed to wear black?" He asked, tilting his head in a confused way. He looked at you for the first time in awhile and you watched his eyes widen, wondering what that meant.

"You're wearing black and you don't do that annoying smile anymore and you dyed your hair. It's back to normal now but it's dirty and you're wearing black. You don't even try to make Mrs. Choi on the fourth floor laugh anymore when you see her and you're wearing black- what's wrong with you?" You ranted, pouting stubbornly.

Hoseok's face screwed up in frustration, hands balling into fists before he cursed under his breath, falling into an exhausted puddle on the ground. He sat amongst his piles of mail with his head between his knees, groaning in annoyance.

Oops.

"I'm fucking tired- I've been working on something and I don't have the time to focus on anything else." He said quietly, "I'm just tired."

"You're so dramatic," You laughed, taking a step closer to him, "Get over it, Hobi. It's just work, don't be such a cog. Take a break, find something to distract you."

"You really don't get it," He grumbled, shaking his head. He froze, peering up at you with a curious expression before rising to his full height.

He was a significant amount taller than you and you hadn't realized how close he was so when he stood, you gasped audibly, taken aback by how intimidating he was up close. Hoseok's eyes were trained on you, narrowed slightly in suspicion. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the smoothness of his skin, wanting to reach out and touch him- just to see what it would be like.

"I thought you hated me but now you seem to know all about me- I don't even know yours and yet you're calling me by my nickname, no honorifics, no manners?" He asked.

You wondered how his voice could be so soft and yet be the only thing worth focusing on, the tone of it making you lean in and want to listen to him all the time.

"Well, barging into other people's apartments when they're naked doesn't exactly scream mr.manners either," You pointed out, taking a step back.

Hoseok smiled for the first time in months and you felt pride blossom in your chest. He took you in for a moment before sighing, "You definitely weren't naked- I'd remember that."

You blushed and forced yourself to look away from him, gathering your mail before rushing past him, "Yeah, well- whatever, just stop being so emo, Mrs. Choi needs a friend or whatever."

"Mrs. Choi said that, huh?" Hobi smirked, watching you avoid eye contact with him.

You flipped him off and his laugh boomed off the walls, staying with you long after you had returned back to your apartment.

You went through the rest of your evening, unable to shake the very annoying, incessant, incredibly frustrating boy off your mind.

You showered wondering if whether you screamed right now, Hoseok would come bounding in again. You brushed your teeth wondering what his lips felt like, stared at your reflection and wondered why his eyes got so wide when he looked at you earlier.

More importantly, what did he do for work that had him so stressed?

You thought he was a dancer or something- that's what Mrs. Choi had told you at least. Not that you asked, she just talked a lot and the elevator was so slow sometimes.

But anyway, she told you that he was a dancer, that's why he was always getting noise complaints and was up at odd hours. You wondered what kind of dancing he was doing, whether it was something stupid like ballet or something. You snorted, imagining him in tights and pointe shoes until you got to his thighs suddenly it wasn't so stupid anymore.

"Damn," You mumbled to yourself, wondering if Mrs. Choi could get you a video of him dancing or something.

You dressed yourself quickly, pulling a large shirt over your head and foregoing panties because....you were looking for your vibrator instead. You cursed your own hormones, wishing you weren't so damn turned on by that stupid fucking sunshine boy who isn't so sunshiny anymore- this wouldn't have happened if he wasn't going through an emo phase.

"Where the hell is it?" You mumbled to yourself, hunting in your bedside table.

You dove underneath your bed, hunting in the random pile of junk shoved under there until there was a knock at your front door. You squeaked in surprise, the top of your head hitting the bed frame. You winced and hurried to answer the door.

You swung it open, still clutching the top of your head. Hoseok appeared, without his headphones for the first time in months and a shiny smile back on his face. You felt your cheeks redden and immediately remembered that you didn't have anything but a shirt on- shrieking immediately.

"What?" Hoseok screamed back, looking behind him wildly with a fearful look on his face.

"I don't- Uh, nothing," You stammered, thinking maybe your shirt was big enough to hide your indecency. "W-What are you doing? Here, I mean- What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I know it's late, were you asleep?" He asked, taking in your appearance and stopping at the top of your thighs. His lips parted, falling open in a cute little heart shape that you'd be able to better admire if you weren't so focused on the violent horniness coursing through your body.

You squeezed your legs together, hoping he wouldn't notice, "I wasn't asleep- what are you doing here?"

Hoseok tilted his head over and looked at you, eye contact so consistent it intimidated the shit out of you.

"I'm, uh," He said awkwardly, a slow smile growing on his face, "I'm trying to take someone's advice. You know, stop being a cog, find something to distract myself."

"Sounds like good advice," You nodded, "So what'd you find to distract you?"

He grinned, stepping towards you. You leaned in instinctively, scanning his face carefully. He smirked, humming lightly in a way that reminded you of a cat.

"You."

to be continued...?

masterlist.

#bts drabble #bts timestamps #bts fic #bts smut #hoseok drabble #hoseok fic #jung hoseok fanfiction #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x oc #hoseok x reader #j hope headcanon #j hope imagine #j hope x you #j hope x reader #j hope fanfic

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bngtanah · 1 year

Text

All I’ve Ever Known | [prologue]

pairing: idol!hoseok x backup dancer!oc genre: tragedy; romance; angst; pregnancy rating: mature | explicit word count: 3k summary: Ari and Hoseok are star-crossed lovers. With a love that burns so intensely they are constantly on the brink of combusting. After years of dating, marriage and a litany of unresolved fights and arguments the pair are on their final attempt to fix the broken pieces of their marriage. What happens when an unexpected surprise threaten to bring them closer than ever before or drive them apart for good?

warnings: This story will contain adult themes beyond just smut (though, there will be quite a lot of that unfortunately lol). This story will tackle topics like loss, emotional abuse, mentions of suicide, divorce, miscarriage, spousal abuse, mental illness and codependency. If any of that is triggering for you, I’d suggest you skip this one. I will of course label each chapter with its own unique warnings.

Ari’s eyebrows were stitched together in an unforgiving glare, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were nearly turning white and her lips were pursed together in such a thin line they nearly disappeared all together on her face. “You know exactly what I want from you!” She yelled again, the stoic stare Hoseok gave her in return only making her more angry. Although there was no possible way he could know why she was so upset, Ari was never quite good at explaining herself and she honestly didn��t understand why she got so angry with him sometimes; she just did.

This time didn’t start out any differently than the others, he said something just a little bit out of the way for her and that was all it took to set her off, guns blazing and swear words flying out of her mouth at one hundred miles a minute. Her brown eyes, tinted darker with anger, had watched him in a stunned silence as he moved away from standing in front of her, opting to move outside to their patio in a small attempt to escape her barrage of words.

They had been going at it for hours now and honestly Ari was getting tired. Not just of the arguments but everything all together. They had only been married for a few years, many people would consider them right at the cusp of the newlywed stage. It was supposed to be all smiles and nothing but sex and staying up all night talking for them. Of course, it had started out that way. The first few months of their marriage were almost what one might describe as blissful, but then slowly it all started to unravel.

Little arguments and disagreements started over nonsensical things and became bigger and bigger until the pair could barely stand to look at each other afterwards. The smallest offense would inevitably end in a screaming match and the police being called to their residence by concerned neighbors who were genuinely trying to do the right thing. Make up sex became something foreign and Ari would be lucky if she felt her husband's hand brush her shoulder on occasion. They both did all they could to avoid being close to one another.

Hoseok wasn’t entirely to blame. Not really. Ari was much more difficult to live with than she cared to realize. She bottled her feelings up until they exploded all over the people she cared about and attributed her anger at other things to something small like Hoseok leaving the toilet seat up. A sigh pushed through her lips and Ari lowered her gaze, moving to rest her body on the edge of their shared king sized bed.

She watched in silent fury as her husband’s lithe body carried him even further away from her, outside to their patio and onto that hideous patio chair she’d hated every since the day Hoseok brought it into their home. She knew what was about to happen and it took everything in her power not to run over to him and smack the cigarette right out of his mouth when she saw him jostle the white stick out of its container.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked haltingly as she pushed herself off their bed and stomped toward his location, her arms remaining pinned to her side. Ari could deal with most of the other things but one thing she could not do was sit ideally by and watch him actively kill himself. Her hand reached forward and snatched the object from between his lips holding it up as if it disgusted her just to touch it “Do want to die? Is that what you want Hoseok? To die and..…”.

‘Leave me here alone’, is what she wanted to say but she refused to give him the benefit of thinking that she actually cared about his well being at this moment. “I can’t keep doing this, If you want to sit around and let your life waste away then do that but don’t ask me to stick around and watch” She sighed deeply and let her hands drop to her sides in defeat the cigarette lazily falling to the ground.

“I think we should see a marriage counselor or an exorcist or something because we both know this isn’t working anymore. This stopped working a long time ago.”

Ari expected him to continue ignoring her, and he did at first, simply grabbing another cigarette from the carton and lighting the end before looking up at her with a deadpan expression.

“I never asked you to watch,” he spat through clenched teeth. Jumping from his seat and making Ari stumble backwards in response, Hoseok towered over the smaller woman. His face red and his jaw clenching and unclenching while his fists did the same at his side.

“I want you to shut the fuck up. Just shut up for once.” Speaking slowly, breathing through flared nostrils, Hoseok never broke eye contact with his wife. The words still burning on his lips, there was a time when he would never have thought to swear at her when they argued. Through time, and after having Ari break down almost every defense he had, that restraint had all but disappeared and he just couldn’t help himself anymore. It was like she didn’t understand anything else.

“If you wanna see some dumbass therapist, go ahead. I won't be going with you. But you’re right…” With his voice still low, he maneuvered his way around her and walked back into their bedroom, knowing full well she was right behind him. “This shit isn’t working.”

“So that’s it? You’re just completely checking out of this relationship? You don’t even want to try and make this better?”

She wondered in moments like this one why they were still together. Her standing there with her arms crossed over her chest in a silent smolder, him refusing to even look in her direction. It was clear they did nothing but vex each other when they were together, so why continue to bother with a relationship? They’d probably be better off finding people more suited to them if they had the courage to bury their relationship and start over again, but then she looked at him. Really looked. Her deep brown eyes trailed over his body, even though she could tell he wanted nothing more than to be rid of her right now, it caused her inner defenses to crumble to ash within her. Her guard was still up on the exterior but deep inside she knew why she was still here. She was here, with him, because she was in love with him. It was just as simple as that.

“Did I say that? Don’t put words into my mouth, Ari. All I said was that you were right— this isn’t working.” Hoseok exhaled deeply, he finally broke and matched her gaze. She was resting against the glass of the sliding door, looking broken and so damn tired. It was like looking into a mirror. And it killed him.

“Maybe…” he started off, closing his eyes for a moment and running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should… separate for a little bit.”

Ari’s lips pressed together, pursed in a thin line and she shook her head, not to say ‘no’ but to really allow what he was proposing to go through her head. Growing up in a house where her parents did nothing but fight until they gathered the good sense to leave each other alone, Ari always promised herself that if she ever got married she would do things differently. She dreamt of being the perfect wife, one that would put her mother to shame and yet here she was. Practically turning into a replica of the woman, unnecessary blow ups and all.

Her arms that had been folded over her chest slowly fell to her sides and her eyes locked onto his, biting back tears that she refused to shed in his presence. She wanted to move, to sit next to him on their bed and share some sense of normalcy with her husband for the first time in what felt like months. But she didn’t; she stayed where she was, body pressed against the cold glass as she allowed his words to truly wash over her and seep into her skin.

He was leaving her.

After all her years of pushing him to the break he was finally going to do it and Ari couldn’t even remember why they were fighting in the first place. With a sharp inhale Ari pushed herself off the glass door, moved toward their closet and began pulling down her clothing into heaps that landed on the floor. She didn’t want to answer him, she didn’t feel as if she really had to anyway. If separation was what he wanted it was going to happen whether or not Ari was in agreement. The familiar sting of tears fluttered at the back of her eyes but she pushed it away, she was done being vulnerable around someone who could cut her so deeply with just a few words.

“Ari, I’ll go. You can stay here,” she could hear him pitch in from outside their closet door, and she caught his eyes watching her quick and harsh movements when she spared him one harsh look and even noted the gentle tone he’d taken when he spoke. Truthfully, there was no reason why she should leave when he was the one who brought a separation up anyway.

“I’ll go stay with Ji-woo,” he softly spoke, referring to his older sister.

Despite all this Ari still kept at her mission, tearing down clothes and organizing them into piles on the floor, all without a word. She supposed this display was to make a point; that she didn’t need to stay here no matter how much she wanted to. She had the option to leave just as readily as he did and even if it was childish, she still needed him to know that in some way she had just as much opportunity to have a life without him in it.

She kept tearing away and tossing down what was hers, completely ignoring his actions until she felt the cool touch of his arm breezing past hers. It was the first time she remembered feeling his touch in months, no matter how distant the action was it made her stop what she was going and look at him. She didn’t actually want to leave her house but she didn’t want him to leave either, even if in some small way she knew this would be good for them. It could be good or it could be the final nail in their coffin, just another gigantic sign that their marriage was on its last legs.

“Don’t make this a soap opera, Ari. Unpack,” his voice was rough and his words sounded clipped.

Grabbing a few articles of clothing, he folded them as best as he could before placing them in a duffle bag. Ari knew he didn’t really want to leave— sleeping on his sister’s couch while being tortured by his twin nephews didn’t seem like the ideal situation— but he started this and there was no going back on it now Ari sighed and stared at the pitiful display of clothes in his duffle bag and reached in to refold nearly everything he’d just packed, placing them back neatly. He may be leaving her but she was still his wife and thus he still represented her whenever he went anywhere. He was never the best with laundry and the last thing she wanted was for anyone else to feel like she was incapable of looking after him. Ari looked up at him once she placed the last piece of clothing in his bag.

“When are you coming back?” She asked, actually sounding demur, all the fight in her had dissolved by now.

“I, uh… I dunno. Maybe in a few weeks. We just need some time apart.” He sputtered and threw his now neatly packed duffle bag over his shoulder. “I’ll, uh, make sure Ji-Woo doesn’t say anything to anybody.”

Ari nodded, knowing that the media would circle like sharks if they caught even the faint smell of a story to be broken about such a polarizing couple.

“Fine..” Ari replied curtly, she may have been too tired to fight anymore but she was still upset. No part of her wanted this, him packing his things and leaving her in the middle of the night. There was some small part of her that wondered if he was actually planning on returning at all. Would she come back if she were him? Probably not, and Ari really couldn’t blame her husband for feeling that way only herself. Her arms folded over her chest and her lips pressed together to keep a powder keg of emotions that she just channeled into anger and stored away for later like she always did.

She stayed in the doorway of the closet but kept watching him as he began packing up his toiletries. It all looked so…final. Everything was happening so quickly and Ari couldn’t let herself come to terms with the fact that he was basically saying that he never wanted to see her again. Was she really that hard to get along with? She knew he deserved- they both deserved better than this time bomb of a relationship but that knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less. The tiniest part of her wanted to apologize, to tell him that whatever problems they had they could work them out because she loved him and she knew he felt the same, but she knew that would never work.

They’d passed the point of redemption now and there was no point in trying to fix what was already so broken. No matter how much she loved him, Ari had to let go.

"Tell Ji-woo and the kids I said ‘hi’” She wasn’t sure why she said that but nothing would make this situation less awkward or heartbreaking.

“I Will- um,” clearing his throat, Hoseok made his way to the doorway of their bedroom. Looking down at his wife, he pursed his lips together in an awkward expression while rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “We should, uh, do a date thing next weekend. Y’know, after we get some air and distance.”

Ari looked at him when he started speaking again, trying to commit every feature of his face to memory. Every subtle freckle, the way his mouth moved when he spoke, the small crinkle in the corners of his eyes, the way his eyebrows knitted together and shrouded his face in shadows when she could tell he didn’t know what else to say. Ari looked at him until she couldn't stand anymore, until she could feel the burning sensation of tears stinging her eyes and tugging at the back of her throat. In the past they said many hurtful things to each other in the heat of the moment but none of those words had ever hurt like this did. Perhaps it was because she knew this wasn’t simply coming from a place of anger or disappointment, it wasn’t just something he’d blurted out and regretted a second later. His words came out clear and careful as if he was giving this moment too much thought and had decided that he really just wanted her to leave him be. Ari slumped her shoulders forward and nodded again.

"Yeah…we shou-” she cleared her throat so her words were no longer strained. “We should definitely do that…so I guess this would be… goodbye?” Ari asked and extended her hand to shake his. She honestly didn’t know what else to do with herself, she couldn’t bring herself to hug him.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, reaching out and wrapping an arm around her neck in a quick hug. Placing a gentle kiss on her temple, he pulled away while adjusting the straps on his shoulder. Their embrace was weird, and it left a funny feeling in Ari’s stomach— but for once, it didn’t feel like anger or distance or fakeness. Whatever it was, it was genuine.

Taking a few steps toward the bedroom door that led to the spacious hallway, he couldn’t bear to look back at her. And Ari didn’t follow him, she stayed in the same spot that she’d been in, the spot where his lips made contact with her skin still buzzing slightly.

“Uh, next weekend. Don’t forget…” he called out, descending down the staircase, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood floor. Still refusing to look back, he grabbed his keys from the table by the front door in the foyer and walked out of his home.

Ari remained in that same spot, listening as he made his way out, counting the amount of footsteps it took for him to make it out of the hallway and to the front door. The jingle of his keys made tears bubble up in her throat again and the sound of the door closing made a tear stream down her cheek.

It wasn’t until she was left with the silence of her home around her that Ari finally did let go. The floodgate of tears she’d been holding back poured from her eyes and she slid down the frame she was leaning on and crumpled into a weeping mess on her bedroom floor.

#houseofddaeng #bts jhope #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #hobi fic #j hope fanfic #hoseok x oc #hobi x y/n #jung hoseok #idol!hobi #idol!hoseok #idol!jhope #bngtanah #AIEK

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myimaginesandrp · 2 years

Text

Hello after watching the cultural reset that was hobipalooza please send me all your fave hobi x reader fics. I need them for me. Thanks 😊

#j hope fanfic #hoseok x reader #j hope x reader #j hope fics #j hope smut #j hope angst #Hoseok smut #j hope

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seokjinsonlyone · 1 year

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what type of kissers do you think the members are

joon is a passionate kisser. he kisses you with everything that he's got. he's someone who talks a lot, feels even more, but some things can only be communicated when his lips are on yours. so when he has the opportunity to try to let you know what's in that big ole brain and even bigger heart, it's with your back pressed up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist. he's engulfing you completely. kisses sloppy, a little wet, an artless meeting of lips and tongue, in hopes that you understand just how much he cares for you, the depth of his affection for you. and when he pulls back for air and looks at you, pupils blown, hair wild from your constant toying with it you see the final piece of the puzzle he was putting together: love.

jin is a soft kisser. always a man of the present, when he kisses you he's in that moment, wants to take his time with it, wants to make the most of each second his lips are on yours. and he does. it starts with the way he skirts his hand up your side and runs his palm up and down your arm when he notices the way you shiver as he leans closer to you. continues with the gentle way he brushes the hair out of your eyes, tucking the strands neatly behind your ear, the way he traces your jawline with his thumb before pinching your chin tilting your head upwards. he revels in the tiny gasp you inhale when he bumps his nose against yours but finally presses his lips to yours when he senses you're about to start whining. and when those plush lips are on yours simply lingering you have no choice but to melt into him, so tightly wound from the anticipation that you just take whatever he's willing to give, unaware that he wants to give you the world.

yoongi is a casual kisser. the feelings between you two are far from casual, but when yoongi kisses you, when his hands are on your waist pulling you into him, when his lips are on your neck suctioning a mark for the world to see, when his tongue is tangled with yours, you understand the casual, the everyday. yoongi's kisses are the gentle breeze on a warm summer's night, they're the waves swelling and receding on a shoreline, clouds aimlessly passing by on a sunny day. they're as sure as the sun rises and sets everyday and as fulfilling as the earth's completion of another revolution knowing that you've made it through yet another year. whether it's a passing peck or an unhurried push and pull after a night of loving, tired but not yet ready to part, his lips on yours turn the ordinary into extraordinary.

hobi is a desperate kisser. every kiss with hobi is both your first and your last. it’s either fast hot and heavy, lips slightly out of synchronization, the occasional knocking of teeth, hands roaming, squeezing in an attempt to get so close to you that he’s either in you or he becomes you. or it’s slow and savory his hand on the back of your neck, yours wrapped around his waist soft breaths huffed out, his nose gently pushing against yours as you break apart, with all the longing of lovers soon to part even tho you both know you’re not going anywhere. but just in case, he wants to leave with no regrets.

jimin is an all consuming kisser. when you kiss him it’s never just his lips on yours, no. he takes over your all your senses. his mouth is sugar sweet like the lollipop he was just sucking on. his hands grip at your sides, before he walks his fingers up your spine, goosebumps left in their wake. he smells faintly of cologne and baby powder. the giggle that he lets out when he briefly breaks away from your lips is just as sweet as his mouth tastes yet just as sinful as the moan he releases when you bring your faces back together nowhere near done chasing the feeling his lips give you. and when your lungs no longer allow you to continue you stare at him eyes slightly drooped, chest heaving you swear up and down that park jimin is the eighth wonder of the world.

tae is a sensual kisser. it starts off with a gentle press of his lips to yours. sticky as he pulls back your lip gloss now on his lips too. then he goes back in tongue prodding for entry, and when you let him in he licks into your mouth purposefully, tongue firmly massaging your own before withdrawing lightly biting your bottom lip on the way out. one hand is on your thigh and the other is on your lower back forcing you to straddle him bodies pressed as close together as possible. he nips at your collar bones before trailing a series of wet kisses up your neck and across your jawline until he has you right where he wants you–whining, panting, begging for more.

jungkook is a sincere kisser. 9 times out of 10 when he’s kissing you it’s not bc he’s filled with lust, although that usually comes soon after, it’s bc there’s a certain longing, a yearning tugging at his heartstrings and it seems like the only way to relieve the pull is to have his lips on yours. so that’s exactly what he does. he’s the type to cup your face with both his hands gently swiping his thumbs across your cheeks before fully leaning in and capturing your lips between his. he suckles on your bottom lip for a few seconds then pulls back breath hitching when he notices how you chase after his lips. in mild disbelief of how he ended up here, with you, the one place he always hoped he'd be, bc you see jungkook doesn’t just like he adores and when he loves it’s with all his heart.

a/n: ajdsfojds you sent this MONTHS AGO I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONGGGGG i just had a specific thought in mind for each but the details were always fuzzy so it took a while to turn the picture in my mind into words that make sense but hopefully this is okayyyyy i be taking forever sometimes but i sweeeaarrr i'm always working

#bts fanfiction #bts headcanons #namjoon fanfic #kim seokjin x y/n #yoongi fic #hobi x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #j hope smut #j hope fanfic #yoongi x you #jin fic #jungkook drabble #ask of interest

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kittyscupcakeandbunny · 11 months

Text

REVOLUTION

[CYBERPUNK x ALIENS AU]

INTRO

INTRODUCTION - A win Starts with a defeat

Side Characters: OT7

Warnings: violence, sharp objects, blood, death.

Genre: cyberpunk, fantasy, enemies to lovers.

SUMMARY: Human race has been fighting an endless war with aliens for 200 years, that made scientists and the military force create Shelters under the grounds of the deserts in hopes to save as many lives possible, althought they have tried to win this war nithjng humans tried was effective wich lead them create a new weapon. One that finally could win. But, could only be used by a hybrid, half human and half aliens the new generation of humans hybrids stronger then an average human, were the only ones that could wear the armor. They were the only ones strong enough and capable of using the armor to defeat the aliens. In the middle of this war a new fight arise when a normal woman decides to make a reckless decision, out of love she sets fire to the fuse.

……………………………..……………..……………..……………………

I only heard stories about how the world used to be, how pretty the cities were and how beautiful the night was with all the lights on, the people walking around, the tv shows and music and the food.

Now we coward under the ground. Hidding away from the monsters, who had taken our planet and destroyed our civilizations.

The human race almost went extinct. The war started 200 years ago and we have been fighting for our planet ever since. Failing miserably every chance we took.

Noticing that there was no way we could fight against the aliens, military officials and scientists decided to form an alliance and with that the Unite RZ200 was born. The Unite was build underneath the desert in what used to be Las Vegas, it was a calm area and only had a few problems ever since the beginning of the war.

It was decided to be our Unite since the aliens seemed to stay more in the south and closer to the oceans, they usually are in groups and that makes it even harder to defeat them.

It was the perfect place to begin the creation of a weapon able to kill those aliens.

The first attempts killed even more people, and because of that a scientist named Logan Lee decided to be creative. He started a project called “NWG1”. But unfortunately the humans at that time were not strong enough to bear the side effects the weapon caused. One minute inside the weapon and their brains would implode.

With that he started a second attempt at the project and called the “new generation”. More tests began, Logan Lee was determined to make a new race. One strong enough to kill an alien with their own hands, he didn't took a break until he was done.

He realized the only way the aliens could be killed was by their own kind and so, he decided to create a drug based of the aliens DNA that could change the human DNA structure entirely. They couldn’t change the human structure as they pleased and for that not many people survived the first tests with the drug, it took too much time but the first ever human hybrid was made.

It looked human in every way except for his eyes.

Scientists then continued with the drug tests even though it was only a new born.

The drugs were strong, the tests were so cruel but they were not trying to make people, they wanted monsters. Monsters that could kill monsters.

Not even the children escaped. They were forced into training and tests, hard work, fighting training and resistance training. They were put to their limits ever since born.

When born in this era you already have a place to serve, whether you like it or not. You have no choice.

My father was a scientist and so was my mother, she died giving birth to me and my dad died no so long after due to a heart attack. At least it was a natural cause, and not an alien.

Humans and hybrid humans were divided into two, hybrids would be tested and trained to fight, normal humans would be put somewhere based of their parents ranks. My parents being scientists i had only one place to go, scientists kids will be scientists, soldiers kids will be soldiers, Hybrids will stay in the program for tests and training having their own ranks based on strength and tests results.

I was raised by my moms friend, who is a soldier. We need to keep a certain number of people in every UNITE and SHELTER, we need scientists to run the tests and amplify the drugs to make more and more stronger Human Hybrids, they are the ones fighting, soldiers are mechanics who work with engineers to keep the weapons working stable and fix it when they break, we also have the people who works with the computers and Technology intelligence, they all play a big part in saving our planet.

UNITES are the special places were we get designed to work on, every UNITE has its own identification, the scientific UNITE were the research and tests and creation of medical drugs are done is identified as the GS UN, they also do laboratory work with hybrid humans there.

The engineers UNITE is identified as the BTI UN, all the machine and weapons are there and they are always working on those there. The technology intelligence is right beside the engineers UNITE, they work together to keep the system working and the weapons in control.

There is the Medical UNITE were the doctors work, it works just like a hospital but with more technology. Is identified as the BLMED UN.

I must move into a new UNITE to work. It has been a long time, but this is just the beginning of our win in this war.

After working as an assistant in the GS UN I simply decided I wanted to help taking care of the injured people, so I chose the medical unite.

The hole underworld have been divided into many different SHELTERS, as the time passed and a new Unite was needed they would add it forming a big hive.

To move around down here we take a train, thanks to that it takes only 5 minutes for me to get to the BLMED UN.

There is nothing expensive or pretty about living under a desert, it is cold all the time which is good for the technology equipment, but in winter it gets even colder.

There is no shops here, it is literally a cave. But with a lot of technology and more clean. We all receive food and any kind of special needs through a delivery robot, so no one can really go outside unless needed.

As I get out of the train a man walks towards me, he has grey hair although he definitely is in his probably 20s I'll give him 26 at least, he wears a long black coat and a white shirt with a black tie. He looks neat and serious.

- hi, I'm Kim Namjoon - he said stopping in front of me, extending his hand he then proceeded - I'll be the one in charge of you from now on.

- I'm y/n - i shake his hand firm.

- here, please.

He shows me the way and I follow him, it looks just like a train station but with many rocks and some plants growing on the walls, it is well illuminated and is a long walk till we stop in front of a silver door which he uses a black ID card to open the door on the digital lock beside it in the wall. Only people who work on this Unite is allowed here. You're given a ID CARD which usually represents your Unite. My mind works in thought, if he has a black ID card must mean he is the one in charge of the whole BLMED UN, being a leader he has access to all the Unites.

We enter a white corridor with a thin blue line that fallows on the middle of the wall, it doesn't even look like we are living under the ground. The blue line represents the UNITE. Every UNITE is represented by a color.

Everything here is well build and clean. If really put your mind to it, almost didn’t look like we were all living under the desert.

Namjoon shows me around the whole Unite, where the medical materials and medical drugs are, the rooms for the patients, the rooms for tests, and where his office is in case I need his assistance.

Entering his office he walks past me to his table and takes something from the cabinet behind the table.

- here is your ID card and uniform, make sure to always wear your badge of identification otherwise they won't let you enter the lab or let you enter the medical storage room to take any meds you might need.

As he said that I already put on the white coat and badge with my name and picture he handed me, he looked at me up and down for a moment looking as if he wanted to say something but was uncertain of it.

- what? - I asked. Looking into his eyes, I noticed a change in the light of them, they seamed to darkened and then went back to normal.

- nothing - he smiled - are you ready for your first day?

- yeah. - he showed me out his office - I mean, yes sir.

- please, just call me Namjoon - he said closing the door behind him - it will be a pleasure to work with you y/n.

- you say it in a way as if you know me....

- well - he started - i know you will do well.

After that we went our separate ways, me to the patients room and he to do whatever business he had now.

[...]

Is not like is boring, I'm actually glad I don't have to take care of patients. Don't get me wrong, is what I have to do and what I chose to but, you don't want to see people hurt and die, is good that nothing happened because no one got hurt.

You don't chose this path because you want to, you chose it because people might need you.

That is what i was thinking as I'm putting a box of countable medicine in a shelf at the storage room of the lab, not realizing the change in the air but as soon as thought everything would be fine the shelves start trembling and then I felt it under my feet. Looking over me it finally hit me, they are trembling as if…

I immediately cut my thought. It can't be.

They are here.

What a perfect way to star your first day of work. Just when I thought it was too good to be true, sorry I forgot we were fighting gigantic aliens for 200 years.

As a red light shines bright over my head and with no second thoughts i ran out of the storage room, the whole unite has red flashing light, it’s a warning of attack. In the hallways people are rushing back and forth to their positions and out of different unites.

- attention, every one back to your positions. This is not a training, warning signal TA07, every one in your determined Unites, go to your set Unite, warning signal TA07.

Shit.

I quickly make my way to the RED Unite. All medical subordinates are required there when there is an attack at the HIVE, so we can help anyone injured during a defense attack against an alien.

Just like with the Unites we use a ranking escale to tell what kind of alien we are confronting and how much damage it will take on us. And this one is a TA of level 07, which means his level of demage is strong. It will be a hard one to take down.

The hallways are turning darker as i make my way to the Red Unite, once there I use my ID card to identify myself to the guard in front of the door, with a nod he opens the door for me to get in.

RED is one of the biggest Unites since is were the TAWs are, it has two floors and is were the engineers and soldiers work with the TI to help the hybrid humans get in the armor and out of the underground, outside to fight the aliens.

Once there, i see a line of people wearing white coats and spotting Namjoon standing there, i make my way to the line, he looks at me and noods in my direction, i nood back and take my place beside him and a girl.

The scene in front of me moves in slow motion, engineers and soldier running around getting the weapons ready together with the TI who is in the second floor over where I stand, progaming through computers the weapons.

The trembling kept going, with each breathe i took i felt it in my heart almost each step it took towards us, silencing all the sounds around me. It felt like i was under the water, the sounds around me were muffled and every one seemed to move in slow motion.

Every heart beat I felt deep in me the fear. The creature screamed so loud as the defense mechanism started attacking it that even though we where under it i could feel it. Right inside my heart, it was painful.

- Hunters!? Puff!

A mocking deep voice said suddenly. Slowly, every sound came right back to me and the pain in my chest was gone. I was back to my reality.

- they are here - the girl beside me whispered.

I looked at her noticing her gaze was behind me, so I turned to see what she meant and there I saw it.

The epitome of perfection. Logan Lees creation, the weapon. Human Hybrids. The five best. We call them The Hunters.

I only heard about them but, seeing them in action is lot more different. They could pass as normal humans if it wasn't for the eyes, when messing with their DNA many things change and the eyes where something Logan Lee couldn't change back.

They where a bright yellow color. It was rumored that the more you fight the aliens the less color they have.

Their leader was Jungkook, his eyes where getting grey already. He is the best and strongest ever since he had the age for it there has not been one fight he wasn't present, always making sure he defeats his enemy, they did the right thing calling him. He was the number one hunter we have, no one was at his level. The TA07 won't be easy but, with Jungkook theres a win is guaranteed.

- more like a suicide squad - said the one beside Jungkook, he had dark hair and was smaller and had a physical of a cat almost, with the way he walked.

He must be Min Yoongi, from an old clan of Royals, i heard his mother was the one who told the scientists to test the drugs on him and make him one of the hybrids, but that was all rumors no one really knew much about him, he was a mystery. A deadly one.

- you have humor today - said the tall one beside him, he had blue hair and wore headphones.

That one is Taehyung. He was the goofy guy everybody talked about him, he was quiet popular with everyone since he was so unserious. He always wore those headphones no matter what, no one knows why.

He's weapon is some ultra sonic sound weave. People say he has the weirdest fighting style but he isn’t one of the hunters for no reason, once he even took the head of an alien with his sound wave.

Beside Jungkook must be Hoseok, no one knows anything about him. Only that he is a beast, once he puts on that armor he fights like it will be his last day alive. He is so strong Jungkook always have him by his side.

The last one is Hyejin. People say she and Jungkook are dating and everybody questions about why she is even a Hunter, the reason being Hyejin is in the lower level of training. She is a beginner not even close to their level. The weakest. Rumors say she's only there because of Jungkook.

They all took the glass elevator to the second floor. Where they will be prepared to enter the armors by a special team, they make sure the Hunter have everything ready to enter the armor so nothing goes wrong.

200 years it took to make the armors. They are as tall as a building, and just as strong as the Aliens. When creating the weapon the engineers and the TI had the idea to fight fire with fire and design the perfect weapon to fight the alien.

After so many failures when Logan realized that nothing human in this world would be able to defeat the aliens, he started the armor project. That was way before the hybrids were created.

The project was to create a weapon just as strong as the alien. It was a lot more difficult back then but, now it became clear that we could do anything.

The armor was not just made by robotic and high technology. Under all that metal are parts of aliens dead’s body. The only thing to make it work is the need of a living Hunter to control it. The TI created a program to connect them, the Hunters brain would be connected into the armor sharing every cell with one, that way he can control it but, only if they are strong enough to hold it.

- starting defense program now.

Said the robotic voice on the speakers.

The TI team has full coverage and control of the armor in case something bad happens, they know everything that is going on with the Hunters when they are out there, how the armor is doing and how much damage it took.

I knew it was time once i heard the loud noises coming from all the armors getting settled to go out, it sounded almost like a missile being fire, then more trembling on the ground. And an explosion..

No one had told me it would be this strong, i just realized once i fell to the ground. In my ears was a high pitch sound holding myself my hands on the cold floor.

- are you okay?!

I look up to see a worried Namjoon as he went down beside me his hands holding my arms helping me get up and with a final deep breath I held on to him getting up, standing on my two feet i felt the hit of the gravity on my whole body. The heavy weight of it pushing my down on my place.

- I'm fine, it just got me by surprise - i said. The high pitch sound finally gone.

- first time does - he told me letting go of my hand - but you'll get used to.

He gave me a small smile.

- I hope so.

[...]

We won. At least this time, but not without a price. When they came back after defeating the TA07, they where badly injured. As we couldn't watch the fight only stand there and hear the loud noises of the fight. It was horrifying to just sit there and listen knowing exactly what was the cause of it.

It was taking so long that for a moment i thought they would lose. But in the end they proved why they are the ones we call.

It is still a war. The Hunters are still half humans and they can get badly injured, the girl Hyejin could bearly stand on her feet and we had to rush to them, Jungkook fainted as soon as he was out of the armor. He took many blows for Hyejin. Taehyung seamed to have many cuts on his arm, and Yoongi and Hoseok were in a bad situation.

Yoongi took a blow on his ribs and it was bleeding a lot, we have to make sure if he broke something or not. Hoseok had a bleeding on his head and he seamed to have broken his hand.

When you are connected to the armor completely, what happens to the armor happens to you. No one knows why but, you become one with the armor.

We take them all to the medical room. There was blood everywhere, from all of them.

We all had to make it fast.

- y/n! Quick, check Jungkook! - I heard one of the doctors order.

My body just moved on his on. I don't know what was going on, i couldn't feel anything. Everything was happening and it felt like I was just watching, my mind felt like riding in a roller coaster.

I came closer to Jungkook to check on him. He was in a bad situation i could tell, he had cuts on his face and a deep one on his chest. Before I could even get close to clean his wounds his left hand grabbed my arm and pulled me closer harshly, his yellow eyes stared at mine with so much range I could swear they where getting red now.

Why? Was his mind still in the battlefield?

I was pulled out of him by two hands on both my arms.

- I'll take care of this. - I heard Namjoon whispered in my ear. He seamed calm and that helped me calm down too - go see Taehyung he seems pretty hurt. - he order.

Our eyes meet quickly and he gives me a small nod i nodded back and made my way towards where Taehyungs bed was.

It was one big room with six beds. There was a lot of doctors, coming and leaving back and forth. Everyone was worried about them, some needed special care and were took to a room separately. And some needed cirjury.

As I stood in front of Taehyung, i finally woke up from my state.

Seeing as he had a cut on his arm i went stray to the countable medicine, taking everything I needed.

- I'm giving you anesthesia, okay - i tell him while preparing the syringe, he only nodded he's right hand holding his injury arm. - all done, I'll clean it and stitch it up now.

As I tell him he looks at me, paying attention to every word. I began cleaning it softly trying my best no to make it painful to him. Once done i began preparing to stitch it up the cut, noticing how he was watching me and how he still had his headphones on. I wonder why but didn't question him about it.

- don't touch the headphones, please. - he said in a whisper.

- I won't. - I promised and he finally relaxed closing his eyes.

It was a deep cut but, since they are hybrids it will cure a lot faster then a normal human being would, in three days he will be good as new.

I try my best to focus on his bloody arm as I’m stitching up the cut but, my mind goes back time to time to those grey yellowish eyes. He was even more beautiful closer. How could he be that attractive? Right, he's not entirely human.

It must be hard on them having to go out to fight, i can't even begin to think about how they all must feel knowing they have no choice, no one to hold on to.

Do they have nightmares about the battlefield?

Is that what he thought when he looked at me with those angry yellowish eyes?

I would never know.

To be continued.

New story coming this week! I hope you guys like it! It’s a bit messy right now so sorry for any grammatical mistakes! 🥺💖

Taglist?

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i1teco0l · 2 years

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hello does anyone know any fanfics with bts members that are similar to love island or any that type of game

im sorry ive just been obsessed with love island😔

THANK U

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ze-eternalmarsh · 1 month

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Name: Itch

Ship: Hopekook (Hoseok/Jungkook) - BTS

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Category: M/M

Wordcount: 4,883k

Type: One Shot

Tags: friends to lovers, slow burn, love confessions, coming out, first kiss, fluff (SO MUCH fluff), cute

Summary:

Hoseok has been feeling an itch every time he's with Jungkook but he doesn't know why.

Or Hoseok doesn't know how to express what he feels but Jungkook is here to understand.

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supertuna-sideblog · 2 months

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

🍓 Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)

🍓 Word Count: 9.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You manage a weak clap with the others.

“Great work everyone!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t–” she hushes you and winks.

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

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

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

A couple of messages, both from…Hoseok.

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

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

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

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

“Ohhhh dinner and a show–”

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

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The buzz of your phone pulls you from your thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You loved Hoseok’s dances.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just watch yourself, that will help.

Sure you try watching yourself in the mirror–

I do it all the time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me wrap my teeth around the world

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

Start carving, darling, I wanna smell the dinner cooking

Wanna feel the edge start burn

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

Honey, I wanna race you to the table

If you hesitate the gettin’ is gone

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

Get some

Pull up the ladder when the flood comes

Throw enough rope until their legs have swung

Seven new ways that you can eat your young

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

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

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

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

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

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

For muscles to relax and just get this dance done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hobi–”

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

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

“Look at me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hobi, what–”

“No hiding from me tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hoseok–”

“If you don’t want this, I’ll stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hoseok, I–I want you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hobi, please–”

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

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

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

“Hobi–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl, listening so well.”

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

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

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

A breathy laugh leaves him.

“So eager, aren’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another command and you obey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Hoseok–”

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

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

“Yes–fuck yes, feels so good–”

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

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

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

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

“What do you want?”

“Please–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna come, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, so pretty when you come.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on in that mind baby?”

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

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

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

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

Hoseok chuckles before sliding behind you again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck–wanted this for so long.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, fuck, yes–I’m soclose–”

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

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

Rubbing the little bundle of nerves you keen.

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok pulls back from you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Opening them you finally look at Hoseok in the mirror.

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

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

“Listen–”

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

“What do you mean you’ve–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You…were?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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