#jhs fanfic

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: August 2024

Hi! Thank you so much for looking at my fic recs— I truly hope you find something that you haven’t read, or something to reread maybe? Please show all of these wonderful authors some love on their original post to let them know they made something wonderful ✨

Some of the authors on this list is on hiatus, but please don’t let that stop you from reblogging or commentating on their story— because you don’t know when they might pop back in and see your lovely comment/reblog, so please— if you like something, show some love to the author 🥰

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | 💜 | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Discord Discourse: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @joheunsaram [4k]  // knj x f.reader // idol!au, internet relationships, s2l, fanfic writer!reader // 🌩️🥰

📝 Kim Namjoon likes to spend time in a discord server… dedicated to him. With new friends and a budding crush, will he ever be able to truly be himself without revealing who he is?

🗨️ oh this one is so good! It’s amazing! The concept and plot is soo funny! I would be scared if this happened to me 😂

⭐You Set My Heart on Fire: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @hayjeon [21k] // knj x f.reader // one night stand, s2l, workplace!au, fireman!Namjoon + paramedic!reader // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 as a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

🗨️ holy shit this is amazing 💖 Namjoon as a firefighter? So fucking hot 🔥 oc as a surgeon turned paramedic ✨ and all the action, the tension, the friends with the whole crew and all the guys??? 🥹 Fuck. This one is amazing, another favorite! 

⭐Show Me How @imaginationofacrazyfangirl [3.9k] // knj x f.reader // tinder!au, virgin!au // 🥵

📝 you swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hookup on tinder.

🗨️ omg this is really amazing! I’m going to warn you that it ends on a cliffhanger and there’s no other part to it, but it’s so amazing and it’s worth a read even though you’ll 100% be left wanting more 🥹😂 Their chemistry is so off the charts and the foreplay is so good 👏🏾

⭐Real Magic @here2bbtstrash [16.7k] // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, workplace!au, single dad!Namjoon // 🥵🥰

📝 the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking amazing 🥰 I love everything about it and the plot was so fluffy 🥺 Namjoon was just so fluffy and I love his kid ✨ Such a sweet holiday fic, and even if it isn’t read around Christmas time it will bring a smile to your face. It’s truly amazing 💯💜

⭐Sweet Company @remedyx [4.4k]  // knj x f.reader // coffee shop!au, christmas!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 no one should ever have to spend the holidays alone. Coffee makes for better conversation than eggnog anyway.

🗨️ ih this was so cute and fluffy with a sprinkle of angst. I really loved the length that Namjoon went through for oc and it was such a sweet gesture 🥹 It’s completely SFW!!!

⭐Lost & Found @l0mljeonjungkook [9.6k]  // knj x f.reader // single mom!reader, bf2l // 🥰🥵

📝 eight years beside him were nothing but a roller coaster ride. Being a single mother wasn't easy, but your best friend, Kim Namjoon made your way smooth. You never knew you felt something for him until you read his diary, which you weren't supposed to read ever. What will you do, if not only you but Hyeon, your baby, and your best friend Namjoon, wants the same, what you desired for so long?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹

⭐All Mine @cui-nisi [3.8k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, fwb, e2l // 🥵

📝 with Jin being the student body president, you have to keep your purely sexual relationship on the DL, but what happens when it’s no longer just sexual?

🗨️ oh I really liked this one! The tension and energy between oc and Seokjin uffff 🔥

⭐Textbook Love @helenazbmrskai [11.6k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, writer!reader, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 loving your best friend’s brother is forbidden so what is even more forbidden you might ask. It’s writing smut about him. Can you still remain friends after he discovers your secrets?

🗨️ iiihhh, it was so good! ✨🥵

⭐Small Tuna Fish @floralseokjin [17.1k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? It the end, it takes one charity car wash event and one – or two, depending on how dirty your mind is – soakings to make things very clear. 

🗨️ damn, this was so funny, sweet and sexy at the same time ✨�� loved the plot, the car wash–the wetness?? Omg. Everything was so fucking perfect 💖

⭐Dream Come True @sugaurora [16.8k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

🗨️ shit I’m in love with this 🤧 It’s so fucking amazing, beautiful, sweet and fluffy. I lived it so much 💖 💯

⭐With You @yoonpobs [22.1k] // ksj x f.reader // marriage!au, divorce!au, childhood friends2lovers // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.

🗨️ I really adore stories where the characters undergo emotional development 🥹 and these… They grow so much, and they even have supportive friends and family 🤧 Jin was a bit of a douche yes but he learned from his mistakes (hopefully keeps at it) and I really loved everything in it 🤧✨ I also loved that Jin suggested couples therapy, because I think that would be a big assert for them to achieve a healthier marriage 🥹 and when he asked oc on a date, and she went “but were married?” 🤭 also, I really think that going on dates while married is a really good way to keep the marriage alive too 🥰💜 I really loved it 💯

⭐Warm This Winter @jamaisjoons [51.6k] // ksj x f.reader (ft. ex!jjk) // one night stand, s2l, exes (jjk), christmas!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 spending the winter vacation with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend was not something anyone would ever consider doing. spending the winter vacation with both an ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and the one night stand you’d used to try to get over him, well that was a whole other situation that anyone sane would have fled from. and yet, here you are. caught between your best friend (and consequently your ex-boyfriend), and the very same man who you’d fallen into bed with after a night of wallowing in self pity. all while stuck in the picturesquely beautiful - and cruelly romantic - austrian alps. well. at least you can say you had an interesting christmas.

🗨️ PERFECTION 💯 This was so fucking incredible, I don’t know where to begin… I love Jin in this, he’s so fucking funny charming, sweet, kind and witty. He’s so him. The dynamic between all of the characters was amazing, and the tension and unresolved feelings between oc and Jungkook was so fucking good! I loved all the jealousy too, and then the fading of the jealousy. When things shifted for oc, how Seokjin helped her, and in that, she fell for him 🤧 Such a lovely Christmas story! There’s a lot of angst in it, yes, and tension, dear god, the tension is so good 😭 there humor, happiness, live and friendship. And missed chances, living with consequences 🥹✨ IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ IT BEFORE, DO IT NOW, AND IF YOU HAVE, READ IT AGAIN 💖

⭐The Devil Wears Valentino @orchidyoonkook [10.4k] // myg x f.reader // devil!Yoongi, “friends” to lovers, spooky!au // 🥵🥰🌩️👻🪄

📝 having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way. And obnoxiously flirty.

🗨️ there is just so much in this one, and it’s so fucking amazing!!!! There’s so much lore, and brilliant storytelling and the writing was just so fucking suberb ✨ This is hands down one of the best stories I’ve ever read, and I’m so happy I did and I’ll revisit this story again sometime, because, fuck, it was just soo fucking good!!! 😭 I think this will be a perfect read at least once a year, preferably around Halloween— and then also on Yoongi’s birthday, because 🥵 Really, you should read this anything, multiple times! This has really become one of my personal favorites 💎

⭐By the Time I’ve Figured Out What it’s Worth @ugh-yoongi [20k] // myg x f.reader // musician!Yoongi, est. relationship, marriage!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 you used to find comfort in it—listening to those old songs. the shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. all those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and yoongi’s got one foot out the door.

🗨️ this was so heartbreakingly good, I don’t know where to begin!? It’s so raw and real, and this is very special to me, because I relate to the plot a lot. It really describes some struggles of marriage and relationships so well, how they handle the tough times! It was such a good read! Is it angsty? Yeah. Did I cry? Yeah. It was just perfection. I was really moved by this. So relatable, raw and realistic. So emotional. So beautiful 🤧💖

⭐The Seventh Muse @wwilloww [6.7k] // myg x f.reader // f2l, librarian!au // 🥵🥰

📝 as a writer, your favorite place in the world is the library. But you’re quickly coming to realize that it might not be the books that keep drawing you back, but the handsome, smart librarian who always knows exactly what you need.

🗨️ Cute and I really like it 💖

⭐Too High @ysljoon [1.7k] // myg x f.reader x fwb!Hoseok // toxic relationships, ex!Yoongi// 🌩️

📝 you haven't moved on from your ex, can someone else pick up the pieces for you or are you going to keep yourself in the cycle of the failed relationship?

🗨️ Oh this was bittersweet 🥺 going back to a guy who hurt you (I’m guessing emotionally), but he’s your home and comfort 🥺 I can see why OC’s toxic in her behavior, and I feel sad for everyone involved 🤧 The story is really good and it’s very emotional 💖

⭐Three Tangerines (series; ongoing) @kithtaehyung [n/a] // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ 3tan is back on the list!!! 🥰 In case you haven’t read the new drabble of 3tan717 ‘Bet Wrong’ please go do it now, it’s so fucking good, sweet and dirty ✨

⭐Swing Life Away @aphrodijin [5.2k] // myg x f.reader // marriage!au, pregnancy!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

🗨️ This was so fucking cute and sweet!! Omg I loved it so much 😭💯💜

⭐Minted (series; ongoing) @/kithtaehyung [9.4k] // myg x f.reader // haegeum!au, gang!au, street king!Yoongi, street cart vendor!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous.

🗨️ Another amazing story from Ryen! This Yoongi is dark and so so interesting. There’s a lot of suspense, tension and angst, but it’s so fucking good! It’s fast paced, and it’s a slow burn at the same time— don’t ask me how Ryen does that, but it’s perfect! 👏💖

⭐Not Interested @sehunpeachy [20k] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, college!au, swim team!au // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 nobody has ever succeeded at swooping you off your feet. that is until you become coach assistant for your college’s swim team and maybe then, you learn everybody deserves a chance at love.

🗨️ wow, wow, wow. Enemies to lovers? 🥵 The tension between them was so fucking good, and the fact that it was a swim team??? Ehm hello? It was so wet, juicy and perfect!!! I loved everything in it (it was also witty and funny!) ✨💯

⭐After Hours @yminie [5.3k] // jhs x f.reader // retail!au, workplace!au, manager!hoseok // 🥵

📝 it’s no secret your manager is very, very good looking. So what can be expected of you when you spend one too many nights locked up on your own with him?

🗨️ manager Hoseok? I would not be able to function at work 🥵 it was so hooooot ✨

⭐Stop Being so Cute @thatmultifandomhoe [3.4k] // jhs x f.reader // coffee shop!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 intentionally left blank by the author.

🗨️ this was so cute 🥹💖

⭐Gone Wild @johobi [6.5k] // jhs x f.reader // bf2l, fwb, roommate!au // 🥵

📝 Hoseok consumes porn like he does Cheetos: in unhealthily large amounts. He’s seen, and jacked off to, most things imaginable. But there are those photos that always draw him back… 

🗨️ fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was so amazing ✨💯 The tension?? So high and hot! The smut? I don’t know where to begin?? 🥵

⭐Me & You @/jamaisjoons [6.5k]  // jhs x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 your relationship with your best friend has always been strange - especially since you started as friends with benefits. 

🗨️ this was so fucking hot I’m going KAVSVDBAKAVFK 🤧

⭐Fake Love @aquaminwrites [16.2k] // jhs x f.reader // fake dating!au, christmas!au, e2l // 🥵

📝 every year, your family spends the holidays at your parents’ cottage in the country. Freshly single and not wanting to be picked apart by your family for being alone, you decide to recruit one of your friends to pretend to be your boyfriend. The only available volunteer? Your brother Namjoon’s roommate, Hoseok. Only problem? He absolutely hates your guts. 

🗨️ I just love Christmas stories, and then you add a fake relationship, only one bed and enemies and brother’s best friend??? Hello. It was awesome, thank you very much ✨ I really loved it 💖 so, so good! 💯

⭐Potent Pink (series; discontinued) @dntaewithluv [6.9k]  // pjm x f.reader // neighbor!au, fuckboy!au // 🥰🌩️😂

📝 the first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

🗨️ it was so good! And I feel like I want to know so much more about why Jungkook doesn’t like Jimin, why he’s saying not to invite him into OC’s life. It was such a good prologue! 🥹 Sadly it hasn’t been updated, so I’ll make this as a discontinued series… But I still think it’s worth a read because both the writing and the story was so good 💜✨

⭐Mismatched Pages: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @knjoodles [1.2k + 4.2k]  // pjm x f.reader // university!au, writer!au // 🥰🌩️

📝 you love writing. it’s your passion, it’s what you dream to do forever. up until you find out the guy you really like also happens to be the guy who’s stealing your ideas. then it sucks.

🗨️ this was really cute 🥹 it hasn’t been updated after chapter two, so I assume that it’s discontinued. I really like the plot though!!! 💜

⭐Blooming Days @bluekyun [15.3k] // pjm x f.reader // university!au, bf2l, pregnancy!au // 🥰🌩️🥵😂

📝 a typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever?

🗨️ ahhhh this was so cute, lovely, fluffy and funny! It was also sprinkled with a bit of angst that made me tear up and scared for a moment 🥺 but the ending was happy 🥰 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Tonight @pjmparadise [6.5k] // pjm x f.reader // idol!au, s2l // 🥰🌩️

📝 during a visit to New York, Jimin stops in front of a bar in passing and takes notice of you inside; lonely, gloomy, and so beautiful. He’s immediately drawn to you and can’t shake the image of you. He returns later that night, hoping he can still meet you. But will you feel the same way?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹 And for some reason, this felt very “who” coded 🥹 really fluffy but it’s a bit bittersweet, but hopeful ending! I really loved it 💖

⭐Never Falling + Forever Falling + Free Falling @yoonia [21k + 30.5k + 22k] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, workplace!au, assistant!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 for Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

🗨️ this has been on my trl for forever, and then, it was only a one-shot, so color me pleased and pleasantly surprised to find out that this is now a freaking trilogy 🤯✨ I loved everything in it, and it’s so fucking amazing— if you have not already read it, you are certainly missing out! This is definitely one of my all time favorites 💎

⭐Eldorado @smoochkooks [38k] // pjm x f.reader // gold diggers!au, e2l, slowburn, adventure!au // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 not all that glitters is gold but you, qualified gold digger, carrying on your back immense experience acquired all around the globe, came to the city of el paso del conte with one goal in your mind: to hit the jackpot of the eldorado of Texas. and nothing, no tragedies and adversities will stop you from pursuing it. but in every fairytale-like, too-good-to-be-true story, there’s a catch. this time, it comes in the name of park jimin, annoyingly handsome archeologist, your sworn enemy and biggest rival. 

🗨️ this has been on my trl list for some many fucking years 😭 well, I finally got to read it! And it was amazing, it was so fucking funny! Filled with witty banter, jokes and stereotypical jokes 😂 World building was so good too! And the smut? Fire 🥵 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Backseat Serenade @jungkxook [10.7k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, band!au, brother’s best friend, punk!Taehyung // 🥵

📝 falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

🗨️ This was so fucking amazing 🥵💜✨

⭐Any Way You Want It @noteguk [6.6k] // kth x f.reader // childhood bf to lovers // 🥵🥰

📝 in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

🗨️ fuck this was so cute, and fuck the smut was so hot 🥵✨💯

⭐Supernova @whatifyoulivelikethat [n/a] // kth x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵😂

📝 Kim Taehyung is your best friend. Considering him as anything more was asking for a collapsed relationship. You two were just two points in the sky, side by side, always shining together. Stars aren’t meant to collide, right? 

🗨️ ØANFBGÆSB. Yep. Speechless. It was so hot! Amazing! And funny too ✨💜

⭐Rent-a-BoyfriendTM + drabble @jimlingss [12k] // kth x f.reader // s2l, fake dating!au // 😂🥰

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ fuck this was so freaking cute and fluffy with a small sprinkle of angst. Perfection 👏🏾 🥰💯

⭐The Assistant: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @lavienjin [3.8k]  // kth x f.reader // workplace!au, assistant!Taehyung, boss!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 Kim Taehyung is your assistant and moonlights as a masseuse in the evening. When you came to the office the morning after a bad date, all you wanted is his hands all over your body.

🗨️ really liked this one ✨💜

⭐Lovestruck @seokstrivia [9k]  // kth x f.reader // jock!au, s2l, slowburn // 🥵🥰

📝 it was love at first sight, however, what you had imagined was very different from real life. In other words, Kim Taehyung didn’t know you existed.

🗨️ cute, cute, cute 🥰

⭐Chasing Cars (series; completed) @oddinary4bts [218.5k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, forbidden love!au, college!au, slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

🗨️ the series are completed! I still need to read the last chapter, but it's so fucking good 💜 If you haven't read this one yet, you really should, and remember to read all the drabbles from JK's pov for each chapter ✨

⭐Bottle Up Old Love @wintaerbaer [4.6k] // jjk x f.reader // exes to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

🗨️ aaaaaaah this was so good! The smut, the plot (JK is protective and I love it), I really loved everything about this ✨💯

⭐Hold Me Close + Hold Me Closer @ahundredtimesover [22.6k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when Jimin hits a crisis, he enlists the help of his older sister - you - and his best friend, Jungkook, to put the pieces back again. That proves to be difficult when 1) Jimin’s a brat and a certified pain in the ass, and 2) Jungkook has grown and suddenly, you can’t keep your eyes off him.

🗨️ omg this was so fucking amazing 😭✨ The characters are amazing in this, there’s cute backstory, details and the sibling bond is top tier, and the chemistry between oc and Jungkook is so fucking good! The tension is perfect and I love the slow burn 🥰 I feel this was also a bit on the existential side, which I really love. Like the dialogue had me thinking about my own life! I love when that happens! And it was so fun reading about siblings, and I’m missing my own baby sister right now. Anyway, it was exceptionally good! Amazing! 💯 And there’s a mention of Jungkook’s glazed potato incident you can’t miss! It was so fun (both this and the run episode 😂). Can’t recommend this one enough!!

⭐Right Here @namluve [13k]  // jjk x f.reader // 90’s!au, high school!au, fwb to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 you had always been a part of the plastics and he was born on the wrong side of town. what happens when your worlds collide, and you realize that he is the only one in your life that’s not fake? 

🗨️ omg this was so heartbreakingly sad 😭😭😭😭 It was beautiful, and I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m so sad 😭 that ending 🤧

⭐(Un)welcomed Addition @shuadotcom [9k]  // jjk x f.reader // neighbors!au, fuckboy!au // 🌩️🥰

📝 after a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind…unless your feelings get in the way of course.

🗨️ it was funny and cute! I really liked it and there is a plot twist in there that I won’t spoil! ✨

⭐Jump Then Fall (Into You): pt1 + pt2 + pt3 (one-shot; completed) @writtenwhalien [52k] // jjk x f.reader // bf2l, cruise!au, fake dating!au // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

🗨️ this story is so fucking good! I love everything in it, and the characters are so good and detailed (even the minor characters!!!). This is totally a new all time favorite of mine 🌟

⭐Dragonheart (ongoing series) @captain-joongz [22.1k+]  // ot7 x f.reader // dragon rider!au, high fantasy!au, e2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 the Gong-li Empire has been on the peak of its power for a little over a millenium, and there was a very simple reason for that - dragonkind. When the first emperor of the Li Dynasty struck a deal with a witch that would allow him to bind dragons to the crown and force them into obedience, it was the beginning of its reign of terror and the end of freedom for creatures as old as nature itself. Now, a woman hoping to change everything enters the ranks of the elite dragon rider unit among the imperial army and meets seven men that not only change her life, but help her change the fate of the whole world.

🗨️ this is so fucking amazing; there’s a lot of lore to dig into, the characters are good and funny. The storytelling is so good too! I can’t wait to read more of this one ✨ If you love fantasy and dragons, I’m sure you’ll love this one 💜

⭐End of the World: a Flickering Hope + Drabble + Epilogue  [4k + 1.2k + 0.9k]  // myg x f.reader // s2l, apocalypse!au // 🥵🥰😂🌩️👻

📝 your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? 

⭐Whalien52 [10.6k]  // pjm x f.reader // s2l, dystopian!au // 🌩️🥵👻

📝 you’ve been working for the New World Order as an assassin for years, guarding secrets without batting an eye or asking questions. But when a striking pink haired man shows up at the headquarters stealing information, he makes you question everything. With all of humanity at stake, what will you do? 

⭐When It Sinks In [13.1k]  // ksj x f.reader // est. relationship, mermaid!au, amnesia romance // 🥵🪄🥰🌩️

📝 life as a mermaid is wonderful, especially when your merman boyfriend, Seokjin, treats you just right. But you’re beginning to recall memories that you don’t think are yours from life on land— from a past life maybe? When you do realize that the memories are in fact your own, the world comes tumbling down around you, questioning your very existence. Are you even a real mermaid?

Thank you so much for reading my rec list, I hope you’ll reblog it to make it reach more people! There’s some insanely good reads on here ✨

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Love you and borahae 💜

[hoseoksluna]

LIFE | jhs

pairing: military!hobi x f. reader (ft. namjoon)

genre: slow burn ; tension ; converse high trope / smut, tiny fluff

word count: 8.6k

summary: hoseok has always had a secret thing for you and once he learns you're single, he doesn't waste time and knocks on your door. 

pinterest board: life / playlist: listen / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: mutual pining, hobi is a feet guy, mentions of a partner giving you a cold shoulder and silent treatment, strong tension, praise kink, petting, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, slight dd/lg, raw and rough sex, size kink.

note: SHE'S BACK. HOSEOKSLUNA IS BACCKKKKKKKK. HELLO, MY BABIES. I MISSED YOU ALLLLL SOOOO MUCH AND I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH THAT THIS IS SOMETHING I WROTE IN MY YEARNING TOWARDS THE END OF MY HIATUS. fuck, this is way too hot. and i, again, had to take breaks to do something :D actually, i was inspired to write this at 4 am when i landed in my country after my vacation in dubai and got the weverse notification from hobi. :) yep. he ruined me, destroyed me, and i had to start writing. ENJOY THIS FILTHHHHHH. i missed writing abt dd/lg, too.... hehe. let me know what you think. and if you mayhappsss want part two? I LOVE YOU, MY BABIES. MWAH.

Hoseok, at your doorstep bringing in the moonlight before the midnight hour, was not something you quite expected to see when you heard the bell ring. You were lounging around on your couch, clothed in your new silky pajamas that you bought to heal your wounded heart a little, along with a peachy Korean face mask, a banana vape and a vanilla candle that you lit up as soon as you exited the shower. The creamy white sheet is what you were still wearing on the planes on your face when you stood there, taken aback because the man, clad in his military uniform, was certainly not your friend that visited you often. 

Hoseok was a mutual friend. A friend of your best friend Karina… and a friend of your now ex-boyfriend Namjoon. A friend that hated your guts—a friend that could not stand you. 

A friend that would let his eyes linger a little while longer on you upon seeing you on regular night outs and then ignore you for the rest of the event. A friend that would lock his gaze on your intertwined hand with Namjoon’s before narrowing it and scoffing in a private way that you invariably saw through. 

You weren’t stupid. You knew what his deal was—it’s only that you couldn’t do anything about it. You were Namjoon’s for eight wonderful months that were splotchy with the depth of poetry. Words from his heart that would give your life meaning, keep your head up above the surface. You needed those words as you spent your whole girlhood drowning in the sea of FOMO, rowing your arms through the waves of life that never got you anywhere. Seeing the little beauty of day and night of Seoul with your friends paled in comparison with what Namjoon showed you. You always believed that your life would begin with a man by your side—you prayed for it, you waited for it and it became reality. 

But it was not the reality that your body sought in the long run. 

Yes, the sex was great. Significant to your mental development, especially to your female one as you truly did become a woman in his hands, letting the lush girlish version of you die in his palms. As well as the museums, the hikes, the dinner dates that let you in on the complexity of Namjoon’s intellect that you found so profound and full of beauty. 

But as you nearly reached a year with him, your body began to seek more. The flowers beyond the box of your relationship with him—and you knew that those petals carried the scent of Hoseok. 

He liked you. You saw it in the extremity of his purposeful ignorance towards you, in the forced hatefulness he put across, and in the distance he set as a boundary. You saw it, too, in the way he would entertain other women in the bars and glance at you every now and then to make sure you’re seeing what he wants you to see. And it excited you, his interest in you that he kept at bay. 

It was a forbidden fruit that you smelt and smelt, but could never bite into—and it drove you insane. And when he got enlisted in the military, it drove you off a cliff. 

Missing him made you search for him. Not in Namjoon, but in other men. Privately, in your soul. And it cost you your relationship. 

Namjoon was a jealous, possessive man. He would fight with you if you looked at a guy for a beat longer than is necessary and if a half of a smile crept up upon the corner of your lips, he would give you the cold shoulder. An action that cut through you deep enough to make you bleed and you had to put a stop to it. 

You thought talking to him about it like an adult would straighten the road you were walking upon, but like the intelligent man Namjoon is—he knew that what he was giving to you was no longer what you needed. He threw it back at you, using the poetry of his words, and all you could do was be honest with him. Nod your head, tell him he was right, that you were seeking something more. And what surprised you was that Namjoon wasn’t willing to go the extra mile. 

He didn’t consider it. Didn’t mention it. 

He nodded his head, too. And you parted your ways as friends who loved each other and lived an artistic life together. 

And at that moment, a door to your mind opened and Hoseok stepped in. Made a bed, fluffed the pillows, and rested. 

It seems now he has awoken. Rang your doorbell, bashed his fist against the wood and narrowed his eyes at you in his normal fashion. 

An action that weaves a rhythm into that flat, bruised heart of yours. 

His military jacket is slung over his arm. His two black dog tags, hung by a silver chain around his long neck, rattles as the breath of the fresh, autumn evening breezes past, scattering goosebumps along your chocolate-buttered skin. You notice, within the brief silence while you look at each other and exchange words long overdue, that his hair is way shorter. Not buzzed anymore like Namjoon showed you on Hoseok’s first day in the military six months ago, but tousled and sticking out in different directions as if he raked his fingers through the strands a million times over. Your own itch, wrapped around your vape, his beauty heightened by his evident newly-gained manliness washing over you like an icy stream of water. 

You shiver, blaming it internally on the wind, and not on the lightness of the attraction that you feel sinking beneath your skin, overpowering you. 

And that small movement of your body propels Hoseok to speak, at last. 

“I come home to find you single,” he scoffs, his voice deep and raspy, marked possibly by his job in the military. And you feel it marking you just the same, opening windows in the house of your body for that wind to blow in and exhilarate you, help you breathe. “He’s drunk out of his mind, crawling on Jungkook’s lap and you’re here. In your pajamas with a fucking face mask on.” 

Briefly, you furrow your brows, not understanding the meaning of his words. Is he bashing you for not crying your heart out? Or is he bashing his brother for doing whatever it was. Your heart turns halfway, painfully. Those days are gone—those you spent in bed while that broken muscle wept while your body used that time to repose from all the stress it went through, being in an environment it grew out of. 

You sigh, weary of the recollection of that peculiar pain, and show no sight of the turbulence happening within you. “Jungkook must be happy about that.” 

Hoseok chuckles, humorlessly. A chilling noise that erects your bare nipples beneath your pajama button down. Awkwardness slinks down your sternum and you shift your weight on your other foot as Hoseok deepens his gaze down on you. 

Tension settles between you and you use it. You use it, wholeheartedly, as you should have all those months ago. The only thing you ever took advantage of were the touches Namjoon graced your skin with. You’d grab his hand, while Hoseok watched, and bring it underneath the table. Part your mouth, pretending he was touching a sensitive, private place while he was merely drifting his fingers along your thigh. Hoseok would gulp, but he would keep his gaze locked on yours, very much like he’s doing now. It’s the only form of intimate interaction you ever had, save for the heated debates about different things you two did not have in common. 

All else remained hidden in the silence shared between you. 

And it no longer shall. 

If he came all the way here, unannounced, then you shall let fate, one that is enamored with your body, have her way in your life. 

“If you came here to talk about him, then I’m not interested,” you say, letting go of the door and slipping off your face mask, ignoring the hurtful pinpricks along the perimeters of your heart. “If you came here for me, then the door is open.” 

And with that bravery, you pivot on your heel and walk back into the living room, not expecting him to follow you and not expecting him to walk away. You let fate do her thing, and you begin to tap in the essence of the peachy face mask into your skin with quick, gentle slaps. 

You toss the sheet, along with the packaging, into the trash, your hair clipped away from your face whooshing around you with your movement. Kicking off your slides, you hear them bump into something stable, and when you turn around to seek that strange sound, you see Hoseok standing by your armchair near your couch. 

So he did come here for you. You tremble in a different manner, filled with sparks of excitement, and, turning around to sit on the couch, you flush, smiling happily to yourself. 

But all those feelings turn to dust when Hobi kneels by the edge of your couch and fixes your home slippers. Aligns them rightly in front of you so you can comfortably slide your feet into them once you get up. 

Your stomach drops and your fingertips tingle, all of your nerve endings set on blazing fire by that one act of service. 

The first kind thing he’s ever done for you. 

He throws his military jacket over the backrest of the armchair, where he nestles himself. Legs spread, elbows propped on his knees. His long dog tag chain swings back and forth in the sudden, atypical calmness of the atmosphere that you cannot adapt to fully. Not when your mind creates an image of that chain hanging over your face, your neck and your chest when you’re bare and ready for him, laying on your back, all for him to take. 

You bite your lip, tracing the band of your sleep sock with your fingers, and Hoseok’s eyes fall to it. You quickly lift them, sheepish. Distract your mind by opening a package of eye patches and placing them on your dark circles that just won’t leave. His gaze skims over each motion, studying it, wordlessly, and you can’t take it anymore. 

You can’t be the only one who’s brave this evening. 

You take a puff of your vape, inhaling its sweetness, and stare right back at him. A smile, a foolish girlish smile quivers upon your lips. One that you dislike because you did grow out of it, but it seems as though the more you swallow the intensity of his shadowed, violent sea-charged energy, the more you transform back into that little girl you were. 

And the process soaks your panties. 

So much is said in the silence, always has been, but you can’t stand it anymore. 

“You should start talking before I go to bed,” you bite, willing your smile to flatten, and Hoseok kneads his hands. His knuckles bear a faint memory of yellow bruises, veiny and strong as they are, and for a moment you wonder how far his ferocity reaches. 

He showed you little of it. You know he’s capable of doing things that would change you for all eternity, give you a new form that would not wither with age. 

And you yearn for it. Have yearned for it all those months without knowing that was the thing your body sought. The thing Namjoon could never give you. 

Violence. Roughness. The licks of an outraged sea. 

You’re a witness to it sloshing in the pools of his darkened eyes as he chews the provocation you uttered his way. And you can bet he likes the taste. 

“Did he break your heart?” he asks amidst the banana-flavored smoke, his knuckles whitening for a split second as he clenches his fist before relaxing—as if the thought of Namjoon breaking your heart angers him. 

It rouses you, and the way your chest lifts with each breath stimulates your stiffened nipples. The candlelight sways, casting shadows on his worn features, and you’d much rather sit on them than talk about your ex. 

“Did you not hear what I said?” you spit, throwing your vape on the cushion of your couch. Hoseok’s façade splits as he smirks, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting it back to you. 

He leans back, slouching in the chair. “Answer the question.” 

The sedatedness of his tone stuns you. Your heart begins to thump as well as the bundle of nerves between your folded legs. It has been too long since you had your release. Months upon months. And you’re too weak to not get carried away by these new feelings you’ve shamefully forgotten about. 

The veins from his knuckles travel all the way back to his arms and your brain empties out. Too, too fucking long. You should’ve fooled around with every guy you found attractive, use them for orgasms, make the best of your womanly years, but instead you dwelled at home—in and out of your misery. And now, now it feels as though you’re a virgin, alone for the first time with an older man that enlivens your body. 

And you might as well give him what he asks of you. 

Sucking on your vape for a puff of bravery, you don’t blink as you stare at him through the smoke. You elongate your legs, placing them on the coffee table next to him, your toes facing his outstretched knee, and his eyes, once again, plummet to them. 

“He didn’t break my heart, I broke his,” you say, your words shrouded by that white mist curling out of your mouth, and you watch as his eyes widen en route to yours. 

He didn’t expect that. 

Something about that satisfies you. Selfishly. 

Hoseok runs the pad of his finger across his bottom lip, his head tilted to the side a little bit. “It was about time you did.” 

The searing heat that rushes forward in your cheeks forces your gaze away from him, begs you to look away, but you don’t. A bead of perspiration trickles down your cleavage, one that is visible to him as you couldn’t be bothered to do all the buttons after your shower. But Hoseok’s eyes don’t flick to it. No, he can’t miss this. He can’t miss the gravity of the moment, of the spoken confirmation of the fact that what went on between the two of you for so long is real. You squeeze your thighs together, the thumping in between unbearable, and the longer you bask in his brave words, in the masculinity of his initiative, the more your own poetry begins to rise in you.

If it drags, it’s not meant for you. If it’s fast, it couldn’t wait to meet you. 

And Hoseok notices. It is only when you let out a little, barely hearable sigh that his eyes do travel down to scrutinize your bodily reaction. To your nipples poking through, the shine of your sweat in between your bare breasts, to the friction you’re rubbing—the miniscule grinding movements that you make in order to alleviate yourself of the ache of desperation that you feel. And because you’re baring yourself out for him, he does the unthinkable. 

He lets you see his true face, his façade collapsing at his big, sock-clad feet. 

Hoseok lifts his hips, hides behind the pretense that he’s just making himself more comfortable, but in reality he did it to turn your attention to his lower region. His length, semi-hard yet still long, stands out, protruding from the camo of his pants and you’re hot, hot all over. 

The thumping worsens—and you need him, all of him, to make it better. 

Perceiving that he’s succeeded in his strategy by the way you just won’t stop ogling him, he blushes and hides it, in vain, with outstretched fingers spread across his face. As if he was doing his signature idol move. It’s a riveting sight to behold, a seemingly cold person growing warm from you gaping at that private part of him. 

And you want more. You want to see more places of his body that are flushed. And you want it now. 

“It was about time you and I talked alone, don’t you think?” you ask, following on from his previous statement. All that pining, those stolen glances, that distance—all that tension advances forward now, stronger than ever.

Hoseok can feel it, too. At your words, his manhood grows harder and his breathing quickens. He tries to stabilize it, but he fails. He fails even when he returns to his original position with his elbows propped on his knees. That chain of his swings with more momentum, teasing you, and you place your legs even closer towards him, and upon witnessing the light flash in his eyes, you realize that you teased him right back. 

The man likes feet.

You draw in a sharp breath when he fists both of your feet in one hand, brushing his thumb over the tips of your toes. The first touch in this lifetime, the first time upon your new virgin body, so intimate, private; he might as well have wrapped a blanket around them with how warm his hand is, secure and trustful. Goosebumps flood your skin, bringing in the iciness that you felt when you took in his beauty against the background of the trees and the moonlight. And its beams must be stitched around his fingers because daintiness clasps you close, the notion that you’re taken care of, in good hands, descending upon you like the most delicate feather tickling you, and you let it—you let it consume you. 

And you let his following question consume you just as much. 

“Were you in love with him?” 

It’s a question you never had the bravery to ask yourself in the two months you’ve been single, but it is here and you welcome it. You hear it whisper to you the hint of your answer and your body is smart enough, capable enough to figure it out. 

No need for long nights of overthinking. 

No need for long hours of listening to your heart crack.

“No, I was used to him—that’s different,” you hush out and the moon lowers herself, spilling through your windows, bathing you in a milky light that feels as welcoming, as right as your confession. And maybe, just maybe it’s the way the shining stream submerges in your neediness that drives you to be bratty. And briefly, before you do, you ponder over the fact how in your life shared with this person drives, moves forward. There’s never a still time—and you find that mesmerizing. Enough for you to simply brood in greed. “What’s it to you?” 

Hoseok flinches. Parts his mouth. His chain rattles and his fingers squeeze the balls of your feet, coaxing a hum out of you that is immediately silenced by his sudden outburst. 

“What’s it to me?” 

There it is. Another plot point. Your heart hammers. 

Hoseok lets go of your feet and you lament the absence. Stands up and towers over you, the moonshine soaking him in divine light that causes your breath to hitch in your throat. A faint layer of sweat has coasted along his hairline and settled there—and you long to swim in his bodily fluids. In the persona of his, in the tumultuous sea of the tension locked within him. 

“You’re genuinely asking me this question?” he pressures, lifting your legs in order to step in between them, and the unthinkable visits you once again. He props his hands on either side of your head and those two dog tags swing in your face. 

A wet patch forms in the center of your pajamas. Your breath mirrors his—hasty, deep and strained—and you can’t take it anymore. 

How far into this road of bravery until the moon averts its opaque eyes away from your sin? 

You arch your spine, hook your fingers on his dog tags and pull him a little closer. Breathe his air, breathe in his masculine, musky scent that intoxicates your senses to the point that there is absolutely nothing stopping you from getting dragged in the natural flow of this situation. 

“Yes, Hoseok. What’s it to you?” 

He pants. Glides, delicately, his fingers along your arm until he winds up at your small fist, clutching it in his as if it was his. And that warmth, you want to dip your head in it. 

“I had to watch you sit in that chair and not crack a smile. Sit next to him like an obedient girl, not allowed to speak. To me,” he grunts, tightening his lips, and that anger of his seeps into you, becoming yours. “He didn’t deserve you. You’re not a pretty toy. You’re a person.” 

He straightens but, panicking, you draw him right back by that chain. “Don’t fucking walk away from me.” 

He seethes and you feel your essence trickling down your thigh. That sea, inching forward, you whimper. And then he spreads that warmth over the crown of your head, rubbing your hairline just once with his thumb before he peels off your eye patches that you have forgotten about. 

And this is when your brows curl. This is the time that says there’s no going back. 

“I talked to you. We fought, don’t you remember?” 

He sweeps that digit over that soaked dark circle of yours underneath your eye. “What do you think would’ve happened to you if I talked to you nicely?” 

Cold shoulder. Uncomfortable time of forced aloneness, filled with the abyss of guilt that you had done something wrong. A toy that didn’t move its lifeless limbs right by his will. 

“I’ve known him for far longer than you. I know how he treats those he thinks he loves. I brushed it away with the others, but with you… I couldn’t. You were so full of life that was stuck in you because of him. Because he didn’t let you let it out. And I can’t forgive him for that.” 

What life? The one you searched for all your girlhood, the one Namjoon molded with his own hands until it no longer recognized the once-familiar lines of his palm? The one that yearned for Hoseok instead? 

A film of tears clouds your eyes and as hard as you try to blink them away, they linger, pooling at your waterline like sea foam. You need your vape, you need him inside you—you can’t face the mirror of the reality of that unfair treatment. 

How blind you were; how Hoseok has become that guiding stick. 

“Don’t forgive him,” you utter, grasping his chain tighter, drawing him even closer, making his breath tremble. The first tear that pours out leaks into the print of his thumb and at the sound of your soft cry, Hoseok topples. Kneels on the couch with your legs on either side of him and you pull, you pull him closer. 

“Do you want me?” he asks—a foolish, foolish question. Presses his forehead against yours, cups your face with both hands now while his back shakes and you touch it, you drag your fingernails down those prominent muscles. And he sighs, so desperately, so tenderly. “Do you want me to let out that life in you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, sliding your hands underneath his black shirt, scratching the lowest part of his warm, warm waist before hooking your fingers on the waistband of his pants. It’s his—it always belonged to him. “Take me. Here.” 

He brushes his nose against yours, your breath and his singular. “You’re so feisty.” Lips nearly touch yours and your lungs give out on you, your air coming out in pathetic staccatos that make him growl, subduedly. Muscles rigid, bundle of nerves devoutly pulsing. Please, please. “But no.” 

The world implodes, the mocking shimmer of that planetary light gushing through—hand in hand with sobriety. 

But Hoseok, the prince of the unthinkable, dips your head back into that darkness. Lifts you by your armpits and sets you down on his lap, his hard length against your core uprearing your need for release. 

A hand sailing down your neck, your sternum, acknowledging itself with your respiration. “Don’t give it to me that easily.” 

Your own cages him there, right at the apex of the fleshiness of your breasts. “Jebal, Hobi.” 

Please, Hobi. You drive, in his fashion, your hips forward—ever so slightly. His eyes round at the mellow variation of his name wandering out of your mouth and wrapping around his neck, as if the gentleness you give him pains him, transforms into a noose around his vocal cords and he can’t speak. 

He sighs, the noise melting into a soft, low-pitched moan. “Don’t beg me,” he croaks out, so terribly strung out. “I’m-I’m—”

You lengthen your spine, closing your mouth over that one spot on the side of his throat that you can reach, silencing him. He doesn’t need to speak—you’re fine with the tacit language of his hands. And the taste of his skin, that fucking warmth dissolving upon your tongue, you can’t help but to moan just the same against him like that, rocking your hips awfully, awfully slowly, driving him to the point of madness that he stood at the edge of for so long. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur, tugging his hand lower to the first done button of your silky shirt and it’s him who hooks his fingers over that fabric now. You lick a stripe across the thick vein of his throat, grinding a little harder when you hear him suck in a pained breath. “I want you to feel that life in me and know it’s yours. Jebal, Hoseokie.” 

He grunts, ripping you away from him. You expect his eyes to be narrowed in that typical manner of his, but they’re not. They’re soft, round and glossy, looking down at you, unblinking. A face you’ve never seen before, that feels too, too significant—and you’re not sure if you deserve to get a load of it. Of his pinkish cheeks and downturned mouth, of his fingers agonizingly sluggishly undoing the first button of your shirt. 

Of his sentimentality that you never thought he was so efficient at. 

The sea that has remotely stilled—but you’re still riding the lenient waves, your torso curving with each button popping off as he engraves his warmth into your cold, cold skin. And once he reaches the very last one, he stops. Holds your shirt together, squishing your breasts, waiting for you to lift your head out of the sea water. 

And you do. 

He inches forward, grazing his lips against yours, making you feebly cry out. 

“Did you cry for him?” 

Your cry prolongs, vexation splattering over your arousal, and you’ve had enough of it. You flick your eyes between his, drawing back, flattening your lips in that anger of his that seems to be still flowing in you somewhere. No more, no more Namjoon; no more talk of your past relationship. It’s over, it’s over.

“Stop fucking—”

Hoseok doesn’t relent. Sinks his fingers into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck to make you listen. “Did you cry for him?” 

Your heart wept, but your eyes didn’t. The tear you shed in front of him was the only liquid emotion that spilled out of you since the day of the break up. “No.” 

He blows a heavy breath of relief that oddly validates you—and light opens in your sensitive bosom. “Good girl.” 

And it is now that Hoseok presses his chest, his dog tags against that light of yours and clamps his mouth down on your top lip, hoisting you a tiny bit to sit you right down on his manhood. His strong arm wraps around your back while the other floats down and curls around your bum, growling into the kiss that he deepens. And then he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside, and the dam breaks between your legs—as well as the quick little whines and squeaks that begin to leak out of your mouth and into his. 

The life in you throbs. 

His cock hardens even more underneath you and he pushes your clit against it, his noises and yours growing louder and louder in tandem until he’s breathless, panting so vivaciously that he needs a moment. A moment to focus on the mess he’s created of you, a glowing ball of rosiness, the prettiest of all flowers—and you feel like it, being looked at like that. 

“I knew you were smart,” he coos, peppering feathery kisses upon your cheek, jaw and chin, descending to the base of your neck. You moan out, fisting his shirt below his collarbones, the continuation of his validation for you nesting in your core. “That life in you will always win. No matter what.” 

You believe him—in fact, there’s nothing left for you to do, but to submit, submit and submit. And it feels like entering a dream that is kind, a reality that appears to be a dream, but is better. An existence smeared with clemency, where you can be a little girl again. 

“Touch it, please.” 

Hoseok hums, kissing the cleft between your clavicles. Shifts forward on the couch so you can rest your spine on the backrest, your head against the wall, and he slides his palms upward from your tummy to the apex of your breasts. You whine, torturously, at the contact, and you shudder and double over when he swipes his thumbs over your still stiffened nipples, buzzing shocks of acute pleasure coursing down your body, rooting in your clit that asks for his fingers, his tongue, but he remains where he is. Transfixed, starving, ravaged. 

He kneads your breasts like he kneaded his hands, with overpowering strength that quickens your blood flow, your body submitting to him and flushing like his does. A sliver of skin that your shirt exposes catches his attention—and at the sight of the flesh of your breasts spilling through, his cock twitches, his breath ragged, eyes droopy and so, so drunk. He pinches your nipples, still through that silken fabric, as if he was punishing you for causing him this unfair pain. 

Knead, flick, pinch. Your noises are obnoxious, his heat in you rising and rising, and you can’t take it anymore. The drum in your clit thuds and you push him away, the pleasure too overwhelming, too good and too arousing. 

And he pushes away the fabric, revealing your perky breasts. A glint settles on the edge of his irises and he gives you a coy smile before he smashes his mouth against yours, moving it in a rhythm that reflects the one in your bundle of nerves. And you grind, you grind like your life depends on it, your nipples and your pussy rubbing against him, against his icy dog tags, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm. And you would come like this had he not physically ripped you away from him. 

Heaving, he focuses, all over again, on the ruination he makes of you. The warmth in you flits so invitingly that you have to touch the places he did—your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. And as you do, you watch his gaze darken, you watch him nod his head, and wipe the corner of his mouth clean, catching his drool. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” he rasps, following the invisible traces you left on your body. Your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. “Right here. Life. Beautiful life.” He teases your hardened nub, circling it with the pads of his fingers, sliding it between his knuckles and squeezing, his smile growing with each shudder of your chest, with each response. “It’s time to make you come and let it out, you ready? Let’s take these off.” 

He tugs off your pajama pants, throws it behind his shoulder, examines the large wet stain on your panties that he coos at, raspily, petting it with his thumb—and you’re so turned on that even such faint touch like that brings you pleasure. You hold onto his arms for dear life, depending on him, trembling when the panties and the shirt are next, tossed upon the pile of your pants. 

You’re bare and he’s still fully dressed. Such titillating unfairness that turns you unhinged, maddened by liveliness your body is diffused with. 

Hoseok pins your legs back. Takes one hand and glides his fingers across your entire femininity, soaking them in the dew he has coaxed out of you, moaning gutturally. 

“He never made you wet like this, did he?” he asks, pride dripping out of him like his masculine pheromones, and with his wet fingers he palms himself. “You don’t even have to answer that. I know. I need to taste you, baby.” 

You don’t even get to fill a lungful of the stuffed, vanilla-scented air and he dives in, keeping your legs glued to your shoulders as he seizes your clit in his mouth, sucking on it briefly before he flattens his tongue all over you. He licks you like a lost man finding an oasis, humming into your heat while he tastes your personal slickness, swallowing everything he sowed. You bang your head on the wall, a numbed pang expanding all throughout your scalp by your claw clip, taking it all, moaning so loudly the whole of Seoul must be hearing you. Even Namjoon in his drunkenness, shameful that he never managed to eat you like this in the eight months you were his to consume. 

Your orgasm inches to you quickly. With half-lidded eyes, you watch the candlelight create sublime, eccentric images on his back. And as if he couldn’t handle the warmth anymore, he peels himself away from you just to take off his shirt, adding it to the pile. He doesn’t let you see his muscular body—he plunges back down, tongue outstretched, flicking the muscle on your swollen clit. He pinches your thigh, your mound, your folds, whimpering onto your flesh, hurrying to close his mouth over you to suck your clit. 

And within that divine suction, you come apart. The beautiful images on his back advance, fluttering on his smooth skin, and you hold him to yourself. The life in you explodes, saturating him in a dimmed, soft-hued, colorful light that he himself must be sensing because he moans, loudly, sinking his index finger inside your clenching hole. You can’t speak, you can’t breathe—you can only feel, you can only take. Your orgasm continues on, a ceaseless stream of delight untwisting in every part of your body. 

And when he begins to fuck you with that finger of his and hits that good spot, your orgasm melts into another one. And this time, you can’t take it. 

You shake so vivaciously that you fall off the edge of the couch, but he catches you. Hoseok unclips your hair and lays you down, propping your hips on the armrest instead and when he bends at the waist and opens his mouth, you scream out your disagreement, pushing him away. 

He blinks at you, mouth sopping wet. “I wasn’t finished.” 

Your oxygen is stuck in your throat, one that gets bespeckled with the beads of your dew. “Hoseokie—”

He traces it, wiping it off, holding you there. Presses his hard, clothed length against your bare pussy, rocking slowly, casting a private, affection-filled shadow with the arch of his body over yours. Hoseok kisses you once, a nasty kiss perfumed with your tangy scent, and you cry out. 

“The fact you can’t take the bare minimum personally offends me. He had you all to himself and he didn’t do his job well,” he mutters, squeezing your throat once. Drags his wet hand down your sternum, grasping a hold of both of your breasts, clenching them until they flush, again, like him. 

There it is, the saltiness of his sea. You yearn for the physical principle of it coating your tongue—for his cum to trickle out of the tip of it like your dew is off of his. And his words, his anger towards his best friend because of you—it heals you in a way you could never heal yourself. Another person seeing you and telling you that you deserve better, it is the most pristine form of remedy there is and you splutter on the whole beauty and compassion of it all, too weak to accept it at once. 

“That’s right,” you agree, as enthusiastically as your dopeness allows you, smiling lopsidedly, heart pounding. “Go slow on me.”

He croons, squeezing his eyes. “My little girl.” 

He buries his face in your neck, kissing you there, and along with the life in you—your heart explodes, too. The finality of your detransformation. Tears of joy ache in the corners of your eyes, the rawness of human fulfillment housing in you for all eternity. 

He kisses his way down to your breasts. “I’ll go slow on you,” he promises, darting out his tongue and flicking it over your nub, making you tremble. He straightens and dances his fingers along your thighs—up to your knees. “Do you want to stop here?” 

You shake your head. Place your feet flat on his toned stomach while you feel your dew dribble down your bum. Hoseok smiles, his mouth curving in that way of his that causes your own stomach to drop. He holds your heels, hooking his finger under the band of your socks and yanking them off. 

And his grin blooms at the sight of your dusty-pink toes, an endeared look thawing his eyes. He rubs them like he did at the beginning of this journey, keeps one at his stomach while he lifts the other one to his mouth. 

Your poor heart skips a beat. 

“Do you want me to fuck you like a little girl like you deserves?” 

He kisses the ball of your foot, doesn’t break the eye contact. Watches your mouth part in absolute astonishment and your cheeks deepen in their hue. And when he kisses it again, slower this time, it wakes you up from your stupefaction, and you lower your free foot down to his clothed cock. Hoseok groans, the sound muffled against your tootsie, shutting his eyes at the impact. Your chest flickers with a sense of pride that you made him react like that—and you want it again. You trail your toes across that length of his, but before you could reach the most sensitive part of him, he stops you. 

Sucks in that pained breath of his, red all over. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.” 

You mirror him, the idea of being capable of doing that to him pleasuring you. You leak onto the couch. Your blood boils. 

“That’s so hot.” 

He chuckles, anchoring your foot upon his heart, tapping it with your big toe. “It’s because you have my heart.” 

Your body ceases all work, as well as time. Even the candlelight pauses its dance, concentrating its caressing radiance on that chain of his. 

And you don’t think as you scurry onto your knees and embrace him, his dog tags no longer icy. He plants his nose into your hair, inhaling you, sealing you into the hug with both of his arms. Your heart reaches its own towards his and they cling to each other, too. 

And you’re not afraid to reciprocate his feelings—they’re as clear to you as that very luminescence of the vanilla candle. 

“You have me,” you whisper into his ear, his body not quivering but stable, safe. “You have my life. It’s more of a treasure than my heart.” 

He had you the moment he so evidently disapproved of your past relationship. He had you the moment he was curious to see if you were jealous when he was entertaining other women. He had you the moment he purposefully put a distance between you and him because he didn’t want you to get hurt by Namjoon. 

You just didn’t know it yet, not until clarity arose in front of you in the form of his honesty. 

Hoseok kisses your own ear, lingers there. “I want both.” 

“Then, have it.”

And he kisses your forehead. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.” 

You can see in the ivory mist of his eyes that he means it—and so you tug off his military belt as you begin to pepper kisses down the column of his neck because he deserves it, because he cares for you, because he came to you as soon as he heard that you were single. And when you reach those dog tags, the words of his title imprinting themselves onto the surface of your lips, you clasp his cock in your hand. Too big for your small fist, too warm for you to handle—

“Lay back down.” 

You bite into the flesh right above that first steel pendant while keeping your eyes locked on his. “Yes, Sergeant.” 

Hoseok curses. Wrings a sharp gasp out of you when he pulls on your hair, giving you a nasty kiss full of tongue. “Don’t call me that when I need to be gentle with you,” he scolds, sucking on your bottom lip to make it better and you disintegrate. “Right now I would bend you over this couch and fuck you until Sergeant and Sir was all you knew, but I can’t do that. Not when you’re not used to me yet.” 

Yes, the promise of the sea—you convulse from head to toe, pining after it. 

“I want that so bad.” 

He nods, marking you on your neck. You whimper and he groans in response. “And I’ll give it to you, you just need to be good now. Lay down.” 

You comply, but you take him with you—grabbing him by that chain as you arch your back on the couch. He lets you, grins at you like the utmost sunshine, but that expression of delight breaks when a certain realization dawns upon him. 

“I didn’t bring any condoms.” 

You huff out a soft noise. “Good. I want you to come all over me.” 

Hoseok hangs his head low, sighing, on all fours above you. His chain swings, drawing the memory of this very night on your breasts. He looks up at you from this position, his eyes thin slits that cause you to clench around nothing. 

“I’ll give you a big load.” 

You beam like the purest angel, in spite of the context. “Yes, please.” 

Hoseok rolls his eyes back, his façade cracking, and he beams just the same, his mouth widening in the shape of a heart that moves through you. He kisses you deeply, a long peck that breaks you down into a putty, and when he withdraws, you can still see that smile plastered on his glowing face. 

“Good girl. Such good manners.” 

And with that praise, he sheathes himself inside you. You both gasp in union, entering a paradise no other human will ever witness in the afterlife. He stretches you out, slowly, careful not to hurt you as he waits it out, petting your hair in the meantime. 

“I can feel you stretching around me, fuck. You’re so warm, so tight for me,” he rasps, panting, that smile trembling on his lips as he tries to keep it together. He straightens, pinches your nipple and you feel yourself accommodating him quicker at that sudden electricity of pleasure, at the sight of his toned body and that chain. The shine of sweat, the dance of the candlelight, the width of his shoulders and carmine chest as it heaves in desperate hums and groans. You could come just from that—and the sensation is so dizzying that your eyes droop. Hoseok notices, grappling the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Stay with me, baby, you can take this. I’m gonna make you feel so good and you’re gonna come on this cock.” 

Those hums of his cruise all the way to your mouth as he sinks that encouragement into it, kissing you deeply, pinning your hands back above your head and sliding his fingers into a celestial intertwinement with yours. They throb within you, those words of his, where they disperse all around, helping you believe that you truly can take the whole manliness of him. Your mind spins, the pressure of your shared atmosphere ringing in your ears, and he knows, he knows that you’re ready for him.

“I’m gonna start moving now. Talk to me, baby. Tell me everything you’re feeling as I fuck you,” he murmurs, unsheathing himself a tiny bit before he curls his hips forward and upwards, creating a languid, spine-tingling rhythm that replicates the waves of his sea. They slosh to and fro with every slow stroke and he kisses your good spot with the tip of his cock. Your eyes flutter open and close, rolling like those waves, but you can still see the way his jaw is clenched, his gums on full show as he seethes in his self-control, the flush of his neck and the flexing of his abdomen that you can’t help but to touch in your otherworldly daze. He stares down at you, intensely, narrows his eyelids and furrows his brows when he feels your touch, and you discover that the spot, where his V-lines lead to your antidote, is one of uttermost sensitivity. 

He moans, burying himself deep in you, and stopping there. Mound to mound, soul to soul.

“Fuck, baby, you just know where all my spots are, don’t you?” he asks, his voice so terribly strained, torso doubled over, and you grin. 

“I think I was born already knowing them,” you flirt and Hoseok pounds into you for it—a singular thrust that scrambles all your brain cells. Your smile falls, your brows crunch, your throat utters such whiny noise that he himself grunts at the sound of it, and when you lift yourself onto your elbows to see his length driving in and out of you, he pushes you right down by your throat, kissing you hard enough that it hurts.

And he alleviates the lip lock by licking over your tongue, toying with it—all while he, little by little, picks up the rhythm, fucking into you with a force that coaxes your rawest moans out of you. 

“You can’t handle my tongue and I can’t handle it when you flirt with me,” he scoffs, smacking his mouth as he turns his head, claiming your mouth, claiming you. “God, I wanna destroy you so bad.” 

Your cry is cut out by another savage thrust and you claw at that sensitive spot of his, inciting him to do it again and again. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

He pauses, the crown of his cock teasing the beginning of your heat. Sweat drips down his temple and he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that makes your heart twitch in absolute sensuality and relish. 

“Say that again.” 

Your breath hitches. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

Hoseok curses, driving into you all the way. You whine out, clenching your fists, feeling every ridge and every vein of his cock glide forwards and backwards along your walls. And by tensing your body and focusing on the delight he’s gracing your body with, the build-up of your orgasm announces its presence.

“Fuck, Hobi, you feel so good,” you cry, gripping his forearms as he begins to hold your waist steady. He jackhammers into you so viciously that your vision scatters with a creamy hue of ivory, moaning in ragged staccatos that influence you so much that you naturally imitate them, fading into him, becoming one. 

“Whose are you?” he growls without interfering with the gracefulness of his sadism, moving back only an inch before slamming back into you, bruising your cervix—and you lose all brain cells, the synapses blanking out. 

But only one thing is clear. 

“I’m yours.” 

And the following snap of his hips drives you out of this world and out of this universe. The gravity keeps your muscles tense, confining your pleasure and the closeness of your orgasm within. The ringing grows in volume and you’re on the cusp. 

Hoseok is, too, because he begins to beg. 

“Please, please, baby. Come for me. I’m so fucking close for you. Please, I’m gonna come all over you.” 

And with a scream that vibrates through the walls of your living room, you comply. Your core grips him, your skin prickles and you levitate—your back arches off the couch, aching to be closer to him, and Hoseok whines. 

Pulls out, straddles you, and fist-fucks his shaft with frantic, frenzied motions. Covers you with ropes and ropes of his cum that ripple on your stomach, your sternum and your breasts as you drift in and out of consciousness. Warm, warm essence of his masculinity that is warmer than the rest of him. 

Blood-hot. 

And you feel as though you deserved every drop. 

Deserved to see the beauty of his orgasm. The flush of his lower regions, especially. The sight you longed to see. 

Hoseok lets go of his manhood, his hand shiny and wet, though he’s still hard, reaching the beginning of your parting lungs with how big he is. Bigger than Namjoon, bigger than anyone you ever dated. Their names wither in your mind, decomposing. And they lose all meaning. 

They cease to exist. 

You’re not his best friend’s ex. You’re not anyone’s ex—

“Look at how little you are,” Hoseok comments, interrupting the surge of your maddened thoughts. He smears the puddle of cum on your stomach that his cock can reach and your pussy flutters in constant motions that ask for him again. “So little under me and all mine, aren’t you?” 

His avowal brings a fresh dose of oxygen into your lungs and you breathe it in. Want to breathe it in for the rest of your life with him. 

But Hoseok doesn’t stop there. Once you agree with him by the nod of your head and a dopey, gratified grin that casts an affirming light on him, he bends over you, his fists on either side of your head. 

“I’ll show you what true possessiveness looks like. The world will burn if it hurts you and if people say one bad word to you, it will be the last one they ever said. But they will talk to you and you will talk to them. You will learn about this life of yours. What it holds, what it looks like. And I’ll be standing beside you and I’ll watch over you. Learn it, live it with you.” 

He rubs your forehead with his thumb in a fond gesture. Looks at you with a mute meaning that touches your heart and crawls inside before he kisses you, relaxes his lips against yours, and kisses you again. 

Again and again. 

Again in the shower. Again in your bed when you’re riding him, tasting the life he let out of you, because you blazed up with desire after you washed his body. And the sex is quiet, smothered with those kisses until your mouth and his is numb. 

And again throughout the years you acknowledge yourself with that life and realize that you understand it more profoundly and clearly in the process of getting to know Hoseok than this world. 

Hoseok is that life. 

And you kiss him and whisper those words onto his mouth when you marry him at the altar, years and years later, connecting your life and his forever. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[btsugarush]

In These Streets | jhs [m.list]

❝i don’t care what anyone says, i want you.❞

summary: in this modern day romeo and juliet, you fall in love with jung hoseok; a carefree, street tough who introduces you to life in his hood.

pairings: jung hoseok x f!reader.

warnings: smut, fluff, drugs, strong language, violence, angst, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: so, this is another wip that i’ve been thinking of for a while. i’ve wanted to write for hoseok since i first wrote gangsta so here it is.

©btsugarush. please do not repost.

000 |

[cosmicaeons21]

Tav'ariel Chosen Of Eilistraee

Tav'ariel belongs to @el-inle

[eoieopda]

liar, liar (jhs)

Hoseok suspects that you’re “phoning it in” while sexting and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t call your bluff.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x AFAB!Reader Type: Smut (18+ — EXPLICIT — MINORS DNI!) Word Count: 5K CW: Hoseok POV; cocky, fuckbuddy!Hoseok; soooo much teasing; masturbation with an audience (f); oh, the dirty talk; unprotected sex (p in v); Hoseok hits it from the back; overstimulation; squirting; multiple orgasms, etc. A/N: Inspired by some of the responses to @here2bbtstrash’s horny headcanon ask game 😈 Specifically, this and this.

Hoseok is a lot of things: a connoisseur with a dutifully refined palate; an archivist, collecting your artful nudes in a museum only his face can unlock; an absolute demon in his sexual prime. What Hoseok isn’t is a much shorter list: a goddamn idiot, though you seem to be taking him for one.

He’s not sure how he knows it — maybe he has a sixth sense for this sort of thing — but when he reads your text, telling him how wet you are for him, that’s not the way he pictures you.

Little liar that you are, Hoseok suspects that you’re half-awake in bed, going through the motions while some mindless drama plays in the background. In fact, if he knows you the way he thinks he does, you’re probably elbow-deep in a bag of kkobuk chips.

To your credit, you don’t make it obvious — not in your words, that is. You describe in poetically pornographic detail what you claim to want to do to him; and he’d be lying if he said his joggers weren’t growing increasingly tight with every little obscenity you send his way. You made one mistake, though, and Hoseok can’t let it go.

He could pick your disastrously thick, downright bite-worthy ass out of a lineup — and he knows that the picture you just sent him is one you’ve sent before.

It takes a minute for him to force his eyes off your supple skin and throw himself out of his bed, but Hoseok eventually manages. He tugs on a shirt, then a jacket for good measure, and then he stalks off towards the door to his apartment. Shoes on and keys in hand, he’s on his way to you before he can think once, let alone twice.

When he hits the sidewalk, it’s the fury of a fuck buddy scorned that propels him up four blocks to your place. Then, desperation and aching balls force him to skip the usual, friendly conversation with your doorman as he breaches your apartment building. Finally, with a bit of menace — for zest — his knuckles rap against your door. His jaw is clenched and twitching slightly when you finally answer, looking good enough to eat in your baggy sweatpants and shocked expression.

“Jay?” You squeak out your little nickname for him. Cute. Your frenzied hands then fly up to scrape fly-aways back into the bun sitting crooked on the top of your head. “What are you doing here? My place is a mess right now. I’m a mess right now — I wasn’t expecting company.”

Hoseok smirks, revels in the fact that he’s caught you red-handed, and slips past you into your apartment. Before your brain can catch up to this turn events, he gazes at you through narrowed eyes while his head cocks to one side. At first, he says nothing. He simply lets you simmer; make-up free cheeks burning maroon while your dumbstruck mouth hangs slightly open.

“So,” he snips. Your knees wobble a bit under the heat of his gaze; he knows exactly what it does to you when he plays up the assertive attitude. "It would seem that we’ve got a credibility problem, petal.”

Your mouth closes, but your eyes grow wider with the practiced, twinkling innocence only a guilty person can sell. Hoseok can hear the gears turning in your brain as you try to think up an excuse for sexting him on autopilot. Lucky for you, he’s got all the time in the world to wait while you spin your wheels over the issue.

Lucky for him, granting you leave to answer and toying with you aren’t mutually exclusive.

When he steps closer to you, you inch away until your back bumps against the wall behind you. A tiny gasp escapes; your warm breath fans out over his neck as he leans down to you. You’re not entirely chest-to-chest — not yet anyway — but the consequences your actions had on him earlier are still palpable. He knows you can feel it, too, nudging the space just above your hip bone.

Hoseok, ever the tease, takes the hem of your t-shirt between his thumb and middle finger. Running the tips along the seam there, he tugs so lightly that the movement barely registers. Even still, it’s enough pressure to make your nipples peak through the fabric — just like he’d hoped. Meanwhile, your eyes shake as you stare, unblinking, up at him.

You are so fucking pretty when you shiver.

Pulling just a little bit harder on the end of your shirt, Hoseok leans in even closer. You push up, ever so slightly, onto your toes like you’re waiting to be kissed. He wants to indulge you — he knows you know that — but he’s determined to hold the line. You whine when he turns away at the eleventh hour so that his lips instead hover below your ear.

“You had so much to say over text,” he hums as he fidgets absently with your top. “Can’t help but feel a little neglected, honestly. Where’s all that big talk now?”

With his voice dropped low like that, Hoseok wonders if you feel it vibrate against your neck. You whimper, wordlessly confirming that you do. When he eliminates whatever remains of the distance between you, the tip of his nose bumps your jaw at the same time his swollen dick presses more firmly against your abdomen. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of you swallowing down a moan.

He smirks as you shift. You’re subtle with it, but he knows what you’re trying to do — sidle up closer, get his lips to finally touch your skin. On any other day, you’d win him over in a heartbeat. You’d get him now if you used those honeyed words of yours in person.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts with a disapproving click of his tongue. Doubling down, he holds his hands up and out to the side where you can see them but not touch them, “Not laying a finger on you until you speak up.”

You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as the tip of his nose once again prods your jaw. Now, that won’t do. “Not gonna give you my lips, or teeth, or tongue, either, if you can’t say that same filthy shit with your whole chest.”

What he does give you is a microscopic roll of his hips. There’s hardly friction at all — no relief. Maddeningly, it just compounds that dull ache you cursed him with. The only benefit Hoseok reaps from that tiny movement is the pout that blossoms on your face when you realize:

Playing stupid games wins you stupid prizes.

“Aren’t you curious?” His gaze drops to your lips for half a moment — long enough for you notice — then his eyes raise again to bore into yours. “About how good you could have it if you weren’t just going through the motions?”

You finally open your mouth. All he gets is his last initial, drawn out and quiet, but still so needy.

“Jay.”

“Nah,” he laughs darkly. The corner of his mouth pulls up into that smug, lopsided smile he knows will fuck you right up. “I’m Hoseok to you tonight, petal — and I don’t give a shit about the state of your apartment, or whether or not you shaved your legs.”

Your frown deepens when he backs away, but goddamn, does your face light up when he starts walking in the direction of your bedroom.

With how expressive you are, you’re unbelievably easy to tease. Any reaction Hoseok could ever want from you is broadcasted in an instant all over your sweet face. He has to bite back an endeared grin before he glances back at you over his shoulder — only to find that you’re still holding the wall up.

“Cat got your tongue and your legs? Damn!”

He’s already crossing the threshold into your bedroom when you finally take your cue to follow him. That adorable, confused crease reappears between your eyebrows when he goes for your vanity instead of the bed set up on the opposite side of your room. Grabbing the stool, he pulls it out and sits down. He then gestures languidly with his palm extended, silently inviting you to sit across from him on the edge of your mattress.

Abundantly cautious, you quietly study his face as you sink down onto your unmade bed. Your voice drips with suspicion when you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok chuckles with a shake of his head and an admittedly devilish grin. He runs his palms over the thighs of his joggers, praying he’ll be able to shed them soon — just not too soon. “That’s precisely the point, petal.”

His words clearly haven’t sunk in yet, so you cross your arms over your chest and one leg over the other. Then, you wait — albeit not patiently — for an explanation he’s not going to offer.

Hoseok tilts his head to the side as he stares back at you. On the nights when you actually expect to see him, you tend to be more dolled up than you are now. He understands that, but he can’t figure out what you meant when you called yourself a mess. You may not be wearing the fatal lingerie from that recycled photo, but that fact doesn’t make him want to unwrap the gift in front of him any less.

Doesn’t make him want to tease you any less, either.

“Well, then,” he starts simply with a shrug, “Show me.”

You might be genuinely puzzled by this, but then again, you might be fucking with him now, too. You swallow, blink back at him all slow and cute. “Show you what, exactly?”

Hoseok leans back against your vanity and rests his elbows on the tabletop. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he answers, and the way your hungry eyes follow its path isn’t lost on him. Though he won’t show his cards just yet, he’s dying to give you every sick little thing you want — so long as you open that pretty mouth of yours and speak it into existence.

Until then, he’s prepared to coax it out of you.

“Show me how you want me to touch you.”

Your eyebrows raise. That cotton candy blush sweeps over your cheeks again and it takes a conscious effort not to palm his own dick through his pants. He wonders if you taste like cotton candy, too.

A few moments stagger past while the two of you sit at an impasse, simply staring at one another in tension-riddled silence. He’s determined not to buckle, though that little pout of yours would normally have him on his knees by now. He’ll gladly be your toy any other night of the week, but this time, he’s not backing down.

With a tiny huff, you stand up on wobbly knees. Your arms cross over your stomach as you reach for the hem of your shirt, then you pull them back up slowly, taking your shirt with them. It’s not a sight he’ll ever get tired of — not one he ever takes for granted, either — watching the way your tits bounce when their only covering slips up and away.

When it really comes down to it, though, it’s what comes next that really turns him feral.

Your nimble fingers work out the knotted drawstring at the waistband of your sweatpants; Hoseok is all but drooling with anticipation. No late night photo of your ass could ever replicate the effect that the real thing has on him. There’s no comparison, no substitute. He groans without meaning to when that thick fabric slides down your silky thighs and lands with a muffled sound at your feet.

As he suspected, there’s no black lace to be found underneath. Hoseok feels validated, but more importantly, he feels his dick twitch against the confines of his pants when he sees the faint gloss of arousal on the upper-most part of your inner thighs. He tears his eyes away and follows your legs all the way down when you bend to pull your discarded sweats off your ankles.

He’s not sure if he’s capable of speech, so he doesn’t instruct you further. Instead, he opts to observe with a clenched jaw as you sit down on the edge of your bed. Once your bare ass meets the duvet, you push yourself back until there’s enough room for your legs. Your heels come to rest in front of you, but you keep your knees together — still hiding.

Really, he’s on the brink of begging. Hoseok can’t let it show, though. He fixes his dark-eyed stare on you and smirks, hoping one look is enough to prompt those perfect legs to spread. When they actually do, he swallows down a growl.

Fuck.

Your face and your pussy are tied for first, both the most angelic thing Hoseok’s ever fucking seen. Inside his mouth, he captures his tongue between the tips of his teeth to keep it to himself. There isn’t a part of you he doesn’t want to savor. Nowhere on your body he doesn’t want to nip at, suckle and mark.

Leaning your weight onto one hand, you slide the other down your navel. Then, his eyes follow it as it trails over the soft hair he’s told you a thousand times he doesn’t mind; but which is likely the reason you look so self-conscious now. Your hand stops to rest just above your clit and Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s nerves or showmanship that justifies the pause.

“Go on,” he sounds casual when he says it as if this isn’t killing him any less than it is you. “Prove that you meant what you say.”

Finally. Movement.

The tip of your middle finger dips down between your folds, and Hoseok can hear how thoroughly you’ve drenched yourself. He can hear your little mewls, too, as your fingertip wades through your wet heat, then travels back up to your clit. Slow spirals follow, underscored by breathy moans.

“Shit,” you sigh as your eyes flutter and your head falls back. Is that really all you’ve got to say? You push up slightly onto your heels, swirl your hips in microscopic circles opposite to your finger’s ministrations.

Hoseok knows it’s not enough for you. Your greedy pussy is screaming for more; he hears it loud and clear from his spot several meters away. It begs to be filled, knuckle-deep, and craves teasing pressure at an angle that’s difficult for you to meet on your own. He doesn’t move to help you, though. He just lets you try to mimic the way his longer digits make you feel.

It’s frustrating, sitting there with his hands kept to himself. If he’s not going to wield them against you, his only other instinct is to tend to the painfully hard dick leaking pre-cum inside his boxers. Unfortunately, it’s your touch he wants, not his own. Maybe if he gets you talking, you’ll unravel faster and earn a reward.

“I wanna see you finger-fuck yourself,” Hoseok’s gruff voice surprises you and causes your doe eyes to snap open. They lock in on his face, clearly flustered by his assertiveness. “Stretch that pretty pussy for me, petal. Need to know you can take it when I finally let you have my cock.”

You sound like an angel when you sigh like that. Hoseok grits his teeth and swallows hard. It dawns on him then that he may be torturing himself more than he’s torturing you. Every muscle in his body is threatening to mutiny, but he refuses to indulge their cries to move. Thankfully, you do.

As your finger penetrates your hole for the first time, Hoseok’s can’t decide which sound is his favorite: the moan that starts in the depths of your chest and only builds as it exits your mouth, or the squelch of your cunt as you tease yourself. Maybe it’s the slight squeak of the bed frame when you begin to grind down against your hand, pushing your finger in deeper towards your detonator and increasing the pressure of the heel of your hand against your clit.

You whimper his name and that settles it — that little plea is the best noise he’s ever heard. “H-Hoseok!”

At this point, he’d be quick to soothe you, rush over to gift you that orgasm you’re so desperately chasing. Instead, he stays planted in his seat, tilts his head to the side, and hums fondly, “Yes, petal? You wanna cum?”

He gets an eager, desperate nod in response which is nowhere near good enough. Please just learn your lesson so he can fuck you the way you need to be fucked. Just — “Tell me, then. I’ve read your bark; show me your bite.”

You add a second finger, and your head drops forward. The pace increases and — fuck — you’re gushing. Your arousal catches the light as it drips down the length of your fingers and pools in the palm of your hand.

Please, please, please just say what you need.

“Agh!” Your frustration peaks and you wail, panting. A sheen of sweat breaks out on your forehead, matching the slick on your collarbones. “Want to cum. Fuck, I — ah! — I need to cum so fucking bad, Hoseok, p-please. I want to feel you in my stomach. I — mmnh — need you to fill me.”

Hoseok has options. He could continue to sit there, watching you fall apart, and try not to cream his fucking pants. He could break his cardinal rule and impale you on his dick before making you cum twice first. Or, he could tag you out; take care of you and guide you right off the edge.

He gets to his feet before he even settles on a plan. The distance between you closes quickly, and then he wraps his hand around your straining wrist. You crash back against the mattress with relief washing over your face — and you have no idea what that aid is going to look like. He settles on his knees, one between yours and the other on the outside of your right leg.

“Got you, petal,” Hoseok murmurs.

His left hand cradles the back of your neck and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. As he does, his right hand slips between your thighs. You moan into his open mouth, and he swallows it. He accepts your tongue without resistance, too; the same way your pussy takes his middle and ring fingers. Thoroughly soaked, he bottoms out quickly at the knuckles.

Immediately, he angles his fingers upright, presses the tips against your g-spot, and sets a punishing pace. The babbling that pulls from you is barely louder than current below, but Hoseok gives credit where it’s due: You cry out, clear as a bell, “G-gonna make me cum all over your fingers. Feel so f-fucking good!”

And you do, hard. Your release spills over his hand and soaks the sheet underneath you as you writhe underneath him.

Hoseok kisses you, deep and desperate, but he can’t stop there. He presses his forehead against yours, looks you dead in the eye, and then he begs, “One more, petal. Gimme one more and then I’ll fuck you stupid, I promise.”

You clench your jaw tightly and nod. Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long. He watches your eyes screw shut, then your mouth fall open. When your second orgasm rips through you, you’re too far gone to make a sound. On otherwise dead air, it’s just the flurry of expletives tumbling out of Hoseok’s mouth and the river he’s fucked out of you.

When the aftershocks eventually peter out, you slump back on top of your doused duvet. You throw an arm over your face as you attempt to catch your breath. While you do, Hoseok’s hand finds a new occupation in caressing the curve of your hip. You can’t see the pride in his smile, but it’s there.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard you say cum out loud before,” He grins. Your move your arm just slightly, but it’s enough for him to see the one eye you’ve cracked open to glare at him. He gently and repeatedly taps your hip bone with the pad of his thumb until your face dissolves into a hard-fought smile. “Hot as fuck, in case you were wondering.”

You give up your hiding place and let your arm drop down beside you. Better still, you raise an eyebrow and hum, “I wasn’t, but d’you wanna know what I am wondering?”

Hoseok captures your lips in another kiss, though he doesn’t linger the way he wants to. “Sure fuckin’ do,” he says on a weighty exhale. He means it; he’s dying to hear whatever it is you’re about to say.

It’s difficult with the way you’ve melted into your bed, but you still manage to tilt your head to the side. Though he can’t know for sure, Hoseok suspects that the way your tongue glides over your kiss-bitten lips is payback for the way he’d looked at you earlier. He’s certain that this little tease looks far better on you than on anyone else — himself included.

As you speak, you pinch the hem of his shirt between your thumb and middle finger. You trace the seam, tug it with a force that barely makes the fabric flutter but still threatens to knock him out. Shit, the toll you take on him when you use his own actions against him…

“Tell me why you’re not naked yet, Hoseok,” you drawl, letting the last syllable click in your mouth. The wicked glint in your eyes makes his dick twitch; he knows you felt it jump on the top of your thigh. “You gonna fuck me stupid, or are you a liar, too?”

In a frenzy, he grabs both sides of your face and kisses you hard. You open your mouth against his, keening as he licks into your mouth. It’s now that he realizes he was right about something else, too: there’s a faint taste of kkobuk chips that barely registers when his tongue savors yours.

With a melodramatic gasp, he pulls away in order to point an accusatory finger at you, “I fucking knew it!”

It’s clear by the slight furrow of your brows that you have no idea what he’s talking about. In short order, you ignore the self-satisfied grin he’s wearing. Then, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. You pull a growl out of him in the process, “Goddamn it. I love it when you do that.”

“Hoseok!” You whine as your restless hands paw at his still-clothed chest. The pout he loves so much takes up residency on your face, shuts him right up. “Clothes off! Please, please, please — I’m dying here.”

He, a bastard, blinks down at you with the most convincing bemusement he can muster at a time like this. He asks, “Dying? For what?”

You don’t bother to respond with words this time. Lips pursed with effort, you wrap your arms around him tight and pull him all the way down on top of you. Undeterred by the weight of his body on yours, your unchecked arousal empowers you to roll until you’ve got him pinned on his back beneath you.

That look in your eyes — that feral one, where your pupils swallow up your irises — tells him everything he needs to know. He lets your rabid hands rip his shirt over his head; his hands drop down until his thumbs hook under the waistbands of his joggers and boxers in tandem. Before he can begin to tug them down, you swat his hands away and take over.

“Shit,” he hums, impressed, “Did I awaken something in you, petal?”

You shoot him a smirk and the way his unrestrained dick leaps at the sight of you makes Hoseok consider the possibility that you’re telekinetic. Amusement clear on your face, you lift a hand to run the top of your index finger along the vein trailing down his length. You shrug, suddenly nonchalant, “You wanna sit here and discuss it, or do you wanna feel that cock twitch inside of me?”

Oh, fuck.

Now unspeakably eager, Hoseok sits up until he’s face to face with you. “Turn around,” he instructs, and you listen.

Once you’re on your knees with your back to him, you lean forward and stretch your arms out on the mattress in front of you. As you wait, head down and perfect ass up, Hoseok is momentarily hypnotized by the subtle way you swivel your hips. The way your cheeks jiggle, even with the slightest shift.

“Liar and a tease,” he sucks his teeth. “You really wanna be my downfall, don’t you, petal?”

You bend your neck to look over your shoulder at him, knowing full well that he dies a thousand times whenever you stare up at him from under your lashes like that. Jesus Christ, you’re a dream. He’d pinch himself, but he doesn’t have the time; you reach back between your spread legs and take his dick in your hand.

Rolling your wrist, you work his tip at a goddamn snail’s pace like you want him to drop dead behind you. He’s unable to keep from groaning, and he can’t stop his hips from rutting forward into your fist, either. You do him the favor of squeezing the crown tighter when you finally do let him go, hand sticky with pre-cum.

“Well then,” you echo his earlier statement with that familiar twinkling innocence in your eyes, “Show me how good I can have it.”

Part of Hoseok is stalling because he knows that he won’t last long. He’s been so impossibly hard for so long now, the way you grip him will have him blacked out and drooling in a matter of minutes. However, the rules he’s made for himself dictate that you have to finish three times before he gets to. And so, with that perverted sense of duty in mind, his hand picks up where yours left off.

You both groan when his tip slides through your folds — goddamn, he wants to drown in you later — but he goes mute the second he finally enters you.

“Oh, fuck. How are you thicker than last time?” you croak because you know his ego hasn’t hit the ceiling yet. Your heads slumps down towards your elbows like you’re dead already, halfway to buried in a mess of sheets. “Swear to God, I’ll get used to this someday.”

Hoseok grins even though you can’t see him do it. The pads of his thumbs find the Venus dimples sitting pretty above your ass. It’s arrogant — he knows this — but he likes to think they were made for him, placed intentionally where his hands can find them when he gets ahold of you.

Rubbing spirals at the base of your spine, he calls, “All good, petal?”

“Fuck me,” you answer.

And he does.

The first thrust tests the waters to make sure you’re actually able to comfortably take him and it’s not simply wishful thinking on your part. You’re impatient, though, and you push your hips back when his second thrust snaps forward. For a moment, Hoseok fears he’s gone blind. Thankfully, it’s temporary; just the haze that overtakes his fucked-out brain whenever he feels your velvet walls squeezing the life out of him.

You match his movements every time he grinds himself into you. Either you’re as desperate as he is to cum, or you know his unspoken rule and intend to kamikaze dive off the edge with him in tow.

Whatever your motivation is, he can’t keep his train of thought on track — not with the way your slick has coated his balls, which slap sickly against your clit when he drives himself into you; not with the sight of your ass bouncing so deliciously against his pelvis, more so the harder he fucks you.

“Thrust are getting a little sloppy there, Hoseok,” you lilt through gritted teeth. Your teasing is interrupted by a breathless moan, but you still persist, “You about to cum, baby?”

He’s holding on for dear life — to your hips, to the last shred of his resolve. He is going to cum, but not before you do.

“N-no. Could do this all night.”

You shriek when his fingers dig deeper into your doughy flesh and slam you down onto his cock; the force of your thighs colliding with his leaves him tingling.

Two things happen in such quick succession that Hoseok doesn’t have time to process them. There’s you, creaming on his cock with a wail. Then there’s you calling him a liar as your cunt flutters around him, forcing him to empty himself completely with a toe-curling groan.

Hoseok collapses in a heap behind you when he finally finds the strength to pull his still-twitching dick out of your pussy. A potent mix of your joint release spills out of you in his absence; he’s only graced with the sight of it in the split-second before you turn around and crawl back over to him. Unceremoniously, you drop yourself into the space next to him and rest your head on his heaving chest.

“So,” he sighs, thoroughly blissed. He glances down his nose at you as he gently unsticks strands of your hair from the layer of sweat on his chest. “What did we learn about mouths writing checks?”

You try to hide your smile when you roll your eyes up at him. You sound exhausted but thoroughly amused when you respond, “Ass better be able to cash them.”

Hoseok pats your ass cheek affectionately, gives it a light squeeze for good measure. “Damn straight, petal.”

[kiestrokes]

Keeping the Cadence | NSFW

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x GN!Reader/You/Yn Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 999 (cutting it close) Genre: porn without plot, military au, smut, drabble. Warnings: military setting, abrupt ending, inspired by this Hobi.

Sexually Explicit Content: penis in whatever hole you desire, use of gender-neutral terms for the receiver of Hobi's penis, subtle nipple play and hair pulling, Hoseok has a big dick (obvi), rough sex, quickie, slight pain kink displayed, mutual orgasms, latex condoms used.

Summary: Drill Assistant Jung Hoseok just can't help keeping the rhythm, even while fucking you.

🗝️ Note: I blame @xjoonchildx 🫥 I wrote this in under an hour, has not been beta read! Don't expect too much, it's been awhile and I'm still rusty.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below. 

The heavy metal door groans shut behind you, effectively sealing you in the dimness of the basement storage room.

“Hurry we only have ten minutes before we have to be back to post” Hobi instructs from behind you. The click of his belt and zipper filled the void of your silence while you worked on sending your pants and panties to a crumpled puddle around your ankles.

“Condom?” You looked over your shoulder just as Hoseok ripped one open with his teeth giving a nod of his eyebrows. You braced yourself over the metal laundry table that was typically used for folding towels, ready for Hoseok.

Not ready enough, you feel his body heat against your back and are jolted when he kicks the inside of your boots with his, effectively spreading your legs as far as the personal shackles of your pants will allow.

“Spit” Hoseok commands, one slender-fingered hand cupping over your mouth as his other hand bends you forward. Following his other demand, Hobi rubs your saliva over your clenched hole exposing it to the cool air of the cellar.

“Ahhh,” you moan as his fingertips toy with the sensitive rim before roughly shoving two fingers inside “Fuck!” Your spine straightens, half from arousal and the other half in delectable pain at the sudden stretch.

“Sorry we don’t have time to stretch you out slowly, I’m kind of-”

“Big.” You finish for him, turning your cheek to graze his nose and fluttering your lashes at his shocked face.

“So, you’ve been looking” He laughs shortly, not the full musical laugh you’ve become accustomed to, this one is laced with carnality. Hoseok’s own eyes lid as he presses himself into you, replacing his fingers with the tip of his cock. His lips part as he slowly works his way into you, with small but firm thrusts.

“Hobi” You moan as he makes it halfway into you.

His hand tucks under your shirt, fingers splaying across your abdomen as he bows over your shoulder for a kiss. Grunting your name into your mouth, as you fervently nibble away at his heart-shaped lips. He stills only once, a lengthy groan rumbling from his chest as he bottoms out. You let out a sharp cry when you feel his hips roll up, his pelvis essentially cupping your ass, rubbing his fat head against the deepest and most sensitive part inside you.

“Shit Hobi,” your body shudders in response but the moment is over as quickly as it came.

Hoseok’s hands glide to fist your waist, drilling your hip bones into the metal of the table as he works himself in and out of your walls. His huffs and grunts and curse words are panted into the collar of your shirt from where he’s pressed across your back.

“Hobi” You whine as he keeps up the insistent pace, drilling in to press into that glorious spot, followed by a thick drag out. You realize he’s fucking you in cadence, and you don’t know why you’re surprised, he is the assistant drill instructor. “Are you fucking me to the marching beat?”

Hoseok’s wild eyes meet yours and he stutters a laugh, “Sorry guess I am, it’s working, isn’t it?” You moan in unison as your insides clench, threatening to suck Hoseok’s massive dick back inside.

“Harder” You gasp as his thrusts sharpen, causing your hands to skate across the smooth surface of the table. Causing Hoseok to fall into you, his hands grasping at the edge to brace himself beside your hips. 

You cry out as his wide base stretches your entrance more, Hoseok sucks air between his teeth as you spasm around his cock. He picks up his rhythm again, angling himself under your ass and thrusting up. Each roll in bruising your hips against the table, you recline back on his chest as he grinds you between the metal and his brutal cock.

“How does it feel? Are you close?” Hoseok’s ear caresses your cheek, his voice a paradox of sunshine compared to the hellish way he is fucking you. You look up to find his brown gaze less hawkeyed than earlier, softened just for you. 

“So good Hoseok, I’m close” You stutter out the last part, feeling his hand under your shirt, gliding across your sternum in search of a nipple that he finds and pinches. Causing you to bow forward and Hoseok lays you flat on the cool table, his other hand on the nape of your neck fingers tugging at the hair there as he snaps his hips into your ass.

“God, you take me so well,” Hoseok lets out a guttural moan as your body tightens under him.

You recite his name in chant as your hands claw against the slick surface. Your undoing is when Hoseok thrusts deep, swirling his hips into the one particular spot as his fingers pinch the nipple he’s still holding onto, and the other tugs are the roots of your hair. You orgasm hard, release spilling down your legs. 

Hoseok gasps out a throaty version of your name as his cock glides you through your climax, your walls squeezing his length so tight you have no idea how he manages to make his way back inside until you feel it. His thighs stiffened against yours, and his release spilled into the latex of the condom. Hoseok’s hands are ripped from your body, and he slams them into the table, pressing himself as deeply inside of you as he can get. 

The room is filled with shuddering breaths as the two of you slowly descend back into your bodies. Hoseok withdraws, groaning as you clench at his retreat. 

“Two minutes,” You heave yourself upright after glancing at your watch and begin to shakily redress. While Hoseok trashes the condom and mirrors your movements, in an unfazed fashion.

His sharp eyes are back as his gaze washes over your appearance, giving it a quick nod of approval, he slips out the door.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations. 

[shina913]

Nothing | JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-15; SFW

Genre: Established relationship; domestic AU; angst; fluff

Warnings: Some cussing; OC has a massive mood swing; arguing/bickering; Hobi makes a savage comment

Word count: 1.2k words

Summary: You and Hobi try to make dinner until you start bickering.

A/N: I miss Hobi 🥰 Thank you @midnightagust for your eyes!

"No, they're not doing it like that in the video. We should score the skin like he does here," you say, holding the kitchen knife at an angle just above the pork.

Hoseok disagrees. "Just poking the fork through the skin is enough. It pushes out the fat but keeps the meat juicy. If you slice through the skin, it might get dry."

You're debating how to prepare a slab of pork belly. You came across a video about it by chance and were excited to try out the recipe. Making it at home has always been something you wanted to do, and the video made it seem simple enough.

What you didn't expect was Hoseok questioning a crucial method, despite never having made the dish himself.

You shake your head, wanting to stick to the original poster's method. "Yeah, but this dude uses the same oven as us. If we just poke the skin, the fat won't render quickly and it'll take forever for it to get crispy. At that rate, we might as well have it for breakfast!"

You prepare to sink your knife into the skin but stop when he makes another remark.

“Well, that’s how my mom does it and it always comes out great.”

You love his mom and she loves you, but in that particular moment, something about his comment irked you. It made you question your cooking skills.

“Then maybe you should just ask your mom to make it for you tonight,” you snap, feeling a mix of frustration and insecurity. You throw the knife into the sink, hoping to release some of the built-up tension. The clanging sound of metal on metal rings through the room and Hoseok’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

You scrub your hands over the sink—a little too aggressively—to get the remnants of raw meat off them. “I’m fine!”

“All I’m trying to say is that we shouldn’t ruin the meat.”

“Right! Because that’s clearly my goal, to ruin the meat!” You wipe your hands on a dish towel just as violently and toss it onto the counter.

His mouth falls open at your actions. You rarely fight, but when you do, he’s not one to go full-out, guns blazing. Oh no... He goes for the sneak attack.

Subtly, he shifts his weight, jutting his hip out giving the outward impression that he’s still relaxed. Then, he drops the bomb. “I didn’t realize we were having your attitude for dinner, too.”

You suck in a sharp breath. You’ve been together for years and know which buttons to avoid and which ones to push—hard.

The tension in the room reaches its peak as you bicker and argue back and forth. Your voices escalate, overlapping with each other's as you try to make your points heard. The frustration is palpable, and you can sense the anger bubbling up within you.

You wave your hands in mid-air. "Okay, I’m done! I don't want to talk about this anymore!" You can feel yourself getting angrier and you don't want to say anything you would regret in the heat of the moment.

He bites down on his lips, realizing that he’d been acting like a dick throughout the whole process. His voice softens and he attempts to explain. "Babe, I didn’t mean to piss you off with my mom-comment. I just thought–"

"Nope!” You interject as you’ve had enough. “I said I’m done with this conversation now," you declare and march toward the bedroom.

As your words hang in the air, he feels the weight of his actions and wants to make amends. "Baby, wait. Please, can we work this out? I'm sorry," his voice now filled with regret as he chases after you down the hallway.

“Can we please hug it out so I know that we’re okay?” He asks while you both stand at the door’s threshold. Hoseok knows that touch is your love language. But in your current state of mind, the idea of him holding you feels repulsive.

"No! I need space," you recoil before shutting the door in his face.

He closes his eyes tightly, realizing that trying to reason with you at this moment is pointless. He walks back to the kitchen to clean up and then collapses onto the couch. Sinking his head into the cushions, he lets out a deep sigh.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths to calm down your racing heartbeat, you groan and shed tears out of frustration... maybe even from overreaction or PMS. You know the anger will fade away, giving you the chance to have a decent conversation with him. But for now, you need some time alone to gather your thoughts.

******

You didn't realize it, but you cried yourself sleep. When you wake up, it's still dark outside. You look at your phone to check the time, and then turn to see Hoseok sleeping on the bed, curled up facing you.

Seeing him resting on top of the sheets and keeping a safe distance from you shows that he still respected your boundaries. It tugs at your heartstrings.

Your face softens, and your finger brushes his cheek. He stirs at your touch and rubs his eyes, gradually waking up. Realizing that he had been asleep on the bed longer than intended, panic immediately sets in.

"Shit, I'm sorry! I know you wanted some space...I set an alarm…” he babbles. “Sorry, I’ll get out."

"No,” you stop him and offer a warm smile. “It's okay."

He really tried to sleep on the couch, but the guilt from your argument kept him tossing and turning. He crept into the room, hoping to settle things with you, but realizing that you were already asleep, he eventually fell asleep himself.

You give a little nod and seeing him in this state, you decide to make things right.

“I apolo—”

“I’m sorry—”

It appears that he had the same thing in mind. He nods and yields to you.

"I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Hoseok visibly relaxes and sits up. "And I'm sorry for saying stupid things to you. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

"I got too caught up, too. I think it was a combination of being hungry and tired,” you grimace. “Not that those are valid excuses.”

"Yeah, me too," he chuckles. “I’m sorry I was acting like a know-it-all earlier. And I didn’t mean to compare you to my mom. I love your cooking.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You smile and gaze at him affectionately. After settling blowups like this, you find yourself craving his touch.

"Do you think I can still get that hug?" You ask meekly.

His lips curl into that slow, irresistible smile that you adore so much. "Always."

You climb onto him slowly, placing one leg on each side, and then fall into his waiting arms. You nuzzle into his neck, feeling him kiss your hair in return. You sigh against his skin, relieved to put this argument behind you.

"I'm sorry for being a moody bitch when I’m hungry."

He chuckles and tightens his arms even more. “If I get koala hugs like this in return, I’ll make sure you’re fed all the time."

"I am kinda hungry, though," you say, realizing that you both skipped dinner.

He throws his head back in laughter. "It's 3:30 AM and all the takeout places are closed. The only options are Oreos or instant ramyeon."

Even though both of those options sound good, you remember the dish you were planning to make before your argument escalated. You move away from him and say, "I can still cook the pork belly.”

"Are you sure? It could take forever," he asks.

"It's not like we have anywhere to be tomorrow," you shrug.

He cups your cheek in his hand and kisses you softly. "Okay. I'll make the rice."

Nothing Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @roaminginthenights @yoongukie-ff

[jung-shook-iieee]

Pairing : mafia boss jk × chef reader (f).

Genre : oneshot, mafia au, yandere.

Warnings : mafia Lord jk, he's really rough tho, smut (dub/noncon, facefucking, unprotected sex, degradation, spanking, bruising, slightly public sex, humiliation, light daddy kink), he's kind of obsessed with y/n , graphic descriptions of violence & gore, slapping, unhealthy dynamics,

Description : you stumbled upon something you shouldn't have, and now jungkook needs to make sure you stay silent.

Word count: 3.2k (of pure filth.)

A/N : it's dark for some readers so please do not read if you're not comfortable. But if you like it then please do vote and comment. Thank you. <3

A/N : well I do think this one needs a little editing here and there but I'll just leave it here as it is, maybe I'll edit in future. Please enjoy and do tell me what you think about this one. 💛

___________

Working here, in Jeon Mansion as a head chef was and a golden opportunity for you. The pay was good, the ambience was soothing providing a great warmth while working, the people were good. There weren't many rules and regulations for staffs but a few were to be strictly followed.

One of the most important rules for all the staff was to not enter the basement of the mansion. This rule was set way past before you joined here. You've never seen the basement, only saw a few people go down.

The mansion was glorious by all means, decorated just like you've heard in the old tales but with the twist of modern taste. The mansion had two large floors, at the roof top there was small setting similar to an expensive restaurant. The first floor consisted a number of large rooms and a gym. And lastly the ground floor, where you were assigned to spent you working hourshours. It had a beautiful, spacious kitchen, dinning hall, gaming room and a drawing room. It felt good to work there.

It was past 12 AM, you just wrapped up, logged your shift and cleaning the mess you and your coworkers created while preparing for a small get together party, which your boss had hosted.

Wiping your hands off with a wipe placed inside of your apron, you head towards the bathroom, down the back and to the right. The blocked off stairs are just next to the door, your hips practically bumping the sign as you head towards the door.

A faint, distant scream jolts you out of your movements.

You pause, hand frozen above the door handle, chest heaving with your breaths that grow in intensity. You go still, listening for another sound.

All you hear is faint yelling, yelping and shuffles, all coming from the exact same place.

The stairs stare back at you with a vengeance, begging you to step over the locked chains.

It's only when the noises cease that you find yourself complying.

You manage to get over the chains, gown riding up as you slide your legs over, trying your best not to trip on the narrow stairs. You keep quiet, practically tiptoeing down each stair.

You can feel your heart racing, beating, like it's about to pounce out of your chest, an overwhelming sense of dread flooding your senses and drowning you in it.

As you head pass the top of the railing you see a very weird and scary surrounding, there was a door in front of you and when you turned the nob to open it, you see a hall of glass walls. the inside of it bar-like and art deco in design, red neon colored lighting illuminating the dark space. The doors are triangular in shape, coming together with a white tile as the top.

You're attention quickly wavers as you heard another loud growling and whimpering sound. It was rasped, a male voice. You walked in more and the voice only grew louder and clearer until you see.

7 men, standing close to a figure, all dressed in suits too fancy for a diner, bending over the frame like they're inspecting it. You're frozen, desperately trying to figure out what's below them, but one of them moves-

It's a man. A man you saw earlier in the evening. The man who barely eaten anything. The man who just sat at the dining table.

He's lying down on the floor, crimson blood staining the white of his button down. You can see his face is battered, beaten to a pulp, one of his eyes swollen over from the beating. There's a hole in his side where the blood is pouring from, and he's clutching it, gasping for air with a desperation you've never seen before.

The man above him has a gun, small enough to be concealed but large enough for you to notice- and he's clicking with it like a taunt. The man below him is fading, slowly losing himself, hand shaking above his fatal wound.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks. You don't even notice them, too locked in on the sight before you, the feeling of them dampening your hand as it covers your mouth the only real inkling of your physical reality you can hold onto. You're breaking out of your frozen state, turning to race up the stairs, but your own frenziedness breaks you.

Before you can even yelp, you trip, walking backwards and colliding with the hard door. The noise you make is loud enough for anyone to hear, and you cry at the realization- eyes wide like saucers.

They're staring at you. All seven of them. Eyes deadlocked on your shaking form.

One of them is... familiar.

You don't get the chance to react, before one of them is heading towards the door. You grab onto yourself, hoisting yourself up the stairs with desperate cries of fear, tears still falling down your red cheeks, you quickly tried to jump over the railing and run for your dear life but....but he grabs you. His tattooed hand have you by the ankle, pulling you down the stairs and pinning you against them.

"Please," You cry, broken sobs ringing through your chest, "I won't tell anyone, I swear. Please don't kill me, please, please."

His hand gravitates towards your throat, turning you around to face him with your back facing the stairs. He lands a slap to your face, piercing your skin in pain as your head retaliates with the force.

You whimper as he grabs you by the cheeks, squeezing them while he pulls you to look at him.

It's him.

It's him.

Jeon Jungkook - your owner, your boss, the man who hired you, the man who pays you. The man who was nothing but sweet and kind to you from the beginning, the man who always tried lifting your mood while you cooked for him, the same man who gave you extra money as a bonus whenever he felt that you've exhausted yourself way too much.

" I fucking told you not come here down. " He growled angrily squeezing your cheeks toughly. " Can't you listen this one thing huh? "

You sob, mumbling a multiple apologies. You don't even know why are you shaking your head. You gasp and breath, all together was getting difficult.

You hear shuffling sound and with one look you saw two of those men were dragging away the

Body to another room.

" Make sure she stay silent, jeon. We don't want any trouble from your side. " One of them with brown hair and dragon eyes walked towards you and he warned your boss.

" Don't worry hyung, she's a smart girl. She won't say a word to anyone. And if she does, then I'll take the responsibility. " He explained to him with stern eyes. Even though the person who warned Jungkook looked slight older, but still you could sense who's holding the actual power.

Jungkook turns back to you, he took in your condition, shaking from the fear and tear soaked face, eyes. His grip softens as his facial expressions calmed too.

" Honey- " He cooed, stroking your hair back from your face. He softly held your tiny face, " You have to calm down baby. "

When you're still hyperventilating, still sobbing and pleading, he lands another slap to your face.

"I said fucking calm down."

His voice is surprisingly calm. Deep and raspy, like he's talking from the back of his throat. He strokes the inflamed mark on your abused cheek, watching as your violent sobs turn into sniffles and whimpers.

" I'm not gonna kill you. " Jungkook promises as his doe eyes stared back at you, still wiping your fresh tears from your cheeks. " I just have to make sure you nothing about this right.? "

" I-I won-t. Don't. Prom-is-e. " You Hiccuped, too scared to even form a correct sentence. He tsked at your choice of words. He knew you were a smart girl, but you aren't even looking at him how can he trust you?

" Baby, are you sure? How can i trust you hmm? " He said softly patting your head, like you were a pet to him.

Your eyes widened with fear and you quickly shake your head, " No-No... , you can, I promise you can, please, please, I promise I won't tell anyone- I-I swear, please... " An ugly sob left from your mouth as you tried to make him believe you.

He stares at you, silent, pondering, doe eyes boring into your skin like the sun. They fold back up towards your eyes, but settled.

"I know you're not gonna say anything," Relief washes over you. "'Cause I'm gonna make real fucking sure you don't say a goddamn thing.

Fuck. Fuck. Your heart is going so fast you think you might faint, cries escaping your lips once again, fearful of what weapons he has in his mind and in his pockets. You subconsciously started dragging your body backwards. But he quickly notices and this time he didn't gave you a option and carried you like a sack on his shoulders. He walked out of the basement and took you to his room on the first floor.

He threw you on his bed, you scurried back like a scared cat. He stood there, starring at you, his thoughts conflicting whether he should do something or not. But he knew no matter what he did, he fucked up. He can't no longer hide his true self from you, and your too scared from him.

You held your down on your knees as you sobbed and mumbled sorry over and over again. It was making him frustrated even more. That's why he never wanted you to see the real him, you were too pure for that. But you chose this upon yourself, he can't help now. Can he??

" You know, we could have done a lot better. I had different plans for you. But you... " He sighed as palmed his face. You could see his brows furrowed like he was regretting this.

" You just had to go down there and witness all of that. You should have listened to me honey, just like every one does. " He sighs as he walked towards your side. " Don't move, be a good girl now. " He warned as he noticed you were ready to move back.

Just like a good girl you were, you listened. " Come here. " He said and you crawled towards him. He leans down, pushing more hair away from your forehead, lips pressing against the skin there: "Be good, and nothing bad has to happen. Okay? "

You nod, lips tightly pressed close, a whimper left from your throat as you see him Unbuckling his belt. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and the taking the black shirt off. He leaned down pressed his lips on your trembling ones.

"Good girl."

Jungkook's hands reach down beneath his trousers, pulling out his cock, already half hard. He gives it a few strokes until it's at full mass, continuing to stroke the top of your head with his free hand.

"Open wide. "

With a shaking mouth, you comply. He growls with the first slide of his cock in your wet mouth, letting out a holy curse to whatever higher power there is. He's practically too big to fit inside, your jaw crying with pain at the sudden stretch.

"Suck."

You whimper, palms clutching hard against your nails. Your tongue slides around his shaft as you suck on him, his groans and curses echoing in your head.

"That's a good girl," He praises, "Wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

You continued whining despite tasting the saltiness of his precum at the back of your tongue. He threw his head back, feeling the texture of your velvety tongue on his hard cock. God!! He imagines this moment so often, countless dreams of you sucking the life out of him. He just want to relish the moment

He slowly and carefully holds on to the back of your skull, " this is nice baby... " He furrowed his brows as he guided your head a little faster. " But i think I'm gonna need a little more, you gonna do it for me? " He asked as he collected your scattered hair in a ponytail. You could only blink away the fresh tears forming, unable to do anything but nod.

He started moving his hips, thrusting mildly. But no matter how careful he went you still gagged on his dick, spit flowing over your chin then rolling off to your clothed breast. You were ruining your clothes.

" You're not gonna say anything now, are you??" He grunts as he started thrusting his hips faster, " You'll let me ruin you, right? I know you will not disobey me again. God!!! " His thrusts pick up pace, his heavy balls quickly slapping against your chin with each movement. You cry out with each thrust, gagging and spitting around his head- but it just makes him harder.

But to your surprise , he pulls backback, slipping his cock out of your mouth.

Jungkook grabs onto his shaft, stroking himself with fast pumps, before letting go to rub his cock up and down your face. The wetness of your own spit slathers your skin, your eyes closing instinctually.

He slaps his cock against your face, tsking at the sight. Your mascara ruined, black tears running down your cheeks, spit and cum coating your chin completely. You felt filthy.

"You look like a fuckin' whore honey. " He says, as he wiped the mess he created on your face. Before you could react he tore off your dress making you gasp in fear. He then quickly turned you around on the bed raising your ass up in the air. He smacked your ass a few times before plunging his thick tattooed fingers inside your pussy making your cry on the bedsheet.

" Fuck.. I have to taste you before I go insane honey. " He mumbles as he crouched down to your already bend form level. His face just a mere inches away your cunt, you felt exposed.....he blew his warm breath on your wet skin making you shudder with sensitivity.

He licked a long stripe of your essence and you heard him growl. He never knew you could taste this delicious. He could eat you everyday like this, only if you would let him. He was eating and slurping messily making you arc your back and eyes roll to the back of your head. You didn't wanted this, but you can't stop the butterflies you were feeling. The feeling he was giving you was new, no one has ever went down on you. And this feels heaven to you.

" Ahh... Jung- please.. No.. Stop... " You blabbered too lost in the pleasure. Your mind was turning blank, the pleasure was increasing making you loose yourself.

Jungkook ate you a good few minutes then pulled away his face and stood up. He came out of his trousers and stroked his cock a few times before rubbing it on your entrance. His dick was soaking up all your juices. " I've always wanted to fuck you like this honey. Walking in here all pretty, all shy, all polite- kept makin' me think how good it would feel to ruin that pretty little head of yours. Make you my own little fucktoy- so polite, so willing, so obedient, just fuckin' made for this, made for me..just me..weren't you?"

You whine out a " no-no. " And shaking your head.

"No? " He asked sarcastically, " You're saying that you never wanted this? Never wanted me to ruin you pretty? Because your pussy is saying otherwise honey. " He taunted, you felt shameful because he was right. Your cunt is drowning his cock with your wetness, It's humiliating, how your body reacts, how your pussy clenches around nothing, how your slick drips down your leg and onto the bedsheet. It's fucking humiliating and depraved.

" I think you fucking want this honey, don't lie. It's useless. " Jungkook grunts as he slipped his tip inside your heat making your wides with a gasp following soon. He was huge, so much bigger than you've imagined before. Yes, you did imagined him with you in this position but maybe under some other soft circumstances. Not like this, you never wanted him like this.

You're gasping, whimpering, whining as his cock slides inside of you, bottoming out within seconds. The stretch burns, his cock thicker than anything you've had before, practically tearing you open from the inside. " See baby I fit so well inside you, just I knew I would." He starts to move, too fast as soon as he starts. His balls smack against your ass with each brutal slam, cock hitting your cervix in a way that has you sobbing- mouth wide and agape, unable to control the noises you're admitting.

That's it, baby," Jungkook's grunting, head tilted back in pleasure, "Take this fuckin' dick, all up in that tight little pussy." jungkook leans his body and wrapped his hand around neck to arc your back a little more. You gasp as his hold get tighter with each thrust.

You didn't even fight," He muses, "Didn't even fight to keep me out of this dirty cunt. That's how I know you're made for this. You already know what you're good for."

You gasp, letting out "ah, ah, ah's" with each rough pound he lands inside your pussy. Your knuckles are turning white from how hard you're grabbing the bedsheet unable to stop the way your body reacts to the stimulation.

"God, you're gonna fuckin' cum, aren't you?" He groans, smacking your ass, his rings leaving a nasty mark- "I've beaten the shit out of a man- I'm still fuckin' covered in his blood and sweat, and you're about to come? Fuck, you're such a whore, a good little slut for me."

You don't know why that builds you up faster. You're disgusted by how that makes you climb faster, how that makes your cunt clench, how your orgasm starts slicing through you like a knife- it's intense, how you come. You're twitching and trembling, he's barely able to hold you still with both hands, still fucking into you like his life depends on it.

"God, fuck yeah, gonna cum up in that cunt," Jungkook's grunting, moaning, cock twitching as you clench around it, "Gonna fill that little pussy up so fuckin' nice, never gonna want another cock. This pussy belongs to me, now, honey, and you're gonna fuckin' let me use it whenever I want."

His pounding gets sloppier, messier- and then he's yelling. His cum spills deep in your cunt, so much that you can feel it filling you up from the inside. He's left panting, moaning and gasping, still clutching onto your waist.

Jungkook pulls you up by your neck to sit up, level at height with him, pressing his nose against your neck.

"Mm," He moans, "Not gonna say a fucking word, are you, honey?"

You shake your head. Still shaking. Still trembling. Still processing.

He slammed his lips on yours and devoured you until he was sure he made you dumb.

"That's what I thought." One last peck on your lips and he says "You're learning fast. We're gonna have so much fun."

_____________________________________________________

Masterlist

@yellabella77 @taegularities @emojkluvr

[gimmethatagustd]

If you are still taking requests I found this and I thought it was funny so I wanted to see if you could please write something with demon Hoseok and this idea thank you😊

satan: I HAVE COME TO TAKE YOU TO THE DEPTHS OF H-

me: wow you're tall

satan: thanks?

me : how tall are you?

Satan : i dunno like 6'6 6'11 with the horns?

me [ twirling hair] omg with horns! You are so funny

NOT TODAY, SATAN | JHS

If you had known the demon tasked with reaping your soul would be a total #daddy you would have gone to Hell sooner!

» pairing: demon!hoseok x reader

» genre: BTS | 18+ | supernatural | humor | a lil bit of smut

» wc/date: 3.7k | october 2022

» warnings: christian religious themes | discussions about how people have died | some cock fondling | sexual tension | namjoon is the ultimate cockblock and also satan | reader likes one direction serial killer AUs lol

» notes: THIS REQUEST MADE ME CACKLE. i decided to post it for spooky szn~ so i hope that's ok 🥺 (i'm also dying cuz there's like lowkey unintentional parallels to this and my hobi idol au that's really killing me)

» masterlist 

» what was jai listening to? all the good girls go to hell - billie eilish

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Purgatory looked like the DMV. 

You should have expected it, honestly. Wasn’t it represented as some type of waiting room in Beetlejuice? Or maybe you were misremembering. Ever since you’d stepped through the front doors, your mind felt foggy. When you looked back through the windows, no parking lot met your gaze. Instead, a soft gray haze was pressed against the glass, causing a bit of condensation to gather. 

How had you gotten here? 

The answer to that seemed a bit foggy, too. 

“Are you going to take a fucking number or just stand there like an idiot?” 

The bristled voice shocked you into action. Stepping forward, you ripped a number tag from the stand directly in front of the door and moved to the side for the voice behind you. A few droplets of water splattered against your ankles when the person reached for their tag. 

You suppressed a gasp. 

She was completely soaked, so wet that she left a trail of water wherever she walked, like some kind of snail or slug. It was difficult to tell what her original complexion was because her skin was now a deep turquoise. Bits of twigs and what looked like seaweed twisted into her hair. 

You followed the stranger’s water trail through the folding chairs lining the large waiting room. The speckled brown carpet squished beneath your sneakers. A bit of water was leaking inside to wet your socks. 

“Number 746!” 

A robotic voice beeped out the number over the speakers just as you sank into an empty folding chair. A man with large, dirty bandages wrapped around his head and over one eye stood from his seat beside you. He clutched a folder of papers to his chest and limped to the counter at the front of the room. 

Three people in matching black professional uniforms sat behind the counter. You thought they resembled bank tellers from how they were spread out with glass barriers separating each person’s portion of the counter. The first two employees sat too far away to make out important details of their faces, but the third was only a few feet away from you. 

He was easily the most beautiful person you’d ever seen in your life. The sharp cut of his jawline and the thin length of his nose slicing through high cheekbones and deep-set eyes made it difficult for you to pull your gaze away from him. Luckily, he was none the wiser of your ogling, for his attention was spent on assisting the person standing in front of the counter. You were free to marvel at his angular features, eventually shifting your eyes from the bow of his lips to examine some of his gentler features. His hair was dark like his outfit and fell soft against his forehead. Poking out of the layered waves were two thick… horns. 

You pressed your thumbs into your eyes, but when you moved them away the horns remained. 

They twisted at the tips, spiraling in opposite directions. A swirling pattern was etched into each of them. It reminded you of fingerprints. 

“Number 749!” 

You glanced down at the crumbled tag in your hand. 749. 

With a sigh, you trudged up to the counter and stood in front of the beautiful man with twisted horns poking out of dark, luscious hair. 

“I need an official form of identification and your death certificate.” 

You stared at him blankly. 

“An official form of identification and your death certificate,” he repeated with more force. 

“I… don’t have a death certificate.” 

Were you dead? How had you died? How could you have possibly received a death certificate if you were dead? You assumed your mother would have it; that was how things went, right? 

The name badge clipped to his shirt read Hoseok, Assistant Manager. Assistant Manager of what? Purgatory?? What in the fuck was going on. 

Hoseok turned to the computer sitting off to the side of his desk. 

“What is your full name and date of birth?” 

You gave him the information he was looking for and leaned forward to watch him tap away at the keyboard. What appeared to be a profile of you flashed across the screen. There was a photo of you, the one from your driver’s license. A few stats about you like your height and where you were born. Toward the bottom of the screen in large red block letters read TIME OF DEATH. You were pretty sure the date was recent, but you didn’t know what day it was currently. Before you could read further, Hoseok closed out the page. 

“I need you to come with me,” Hoseok said abruptly. He gestured for you to step around the counter. 

You took a look over your shoulder. No one else needed to go behind the counter, as far as you could tell. Although, you hadn’t paid much attention to the other people waiting for… whatever it was everyone was doing here. You still didn’t know. 

With a nervous inhale that tickled your throat, you followed the… man? Whatever he was, through a door marked for employees only. 

(So they were called employees. Hence the Assistant Manager badge, and all. What the fuck kind of job was this?)

Scurrying behind him to catch up with his long gait, you noticed that this person was tall. Like, impossibly tall. Come to think of it, it wasn’t just his height that was staggering. Everything about his presence seemed larger than life, like the very walls of the hallway needed to shift and expand to accommodate the power radiating off of him as he walked. You kept your eyes trained on his lean shoulders, watching the way his shoulder blades and back muscles made his shirt ripple when he breathed or turned around the corner. 

“Ahem.” You cleared your throat. 

Silence. 

“Ahem.” 

You did a little skip to speed up your walking and finally fell in line with the man. You flashed him what you’d consider an award-winning grin. 

“Hoseok, right? You’re really fucking tall.” 

He glanced down at you out of the corner of his eye. 

So, a man of few words. Unless he was snapping at you about IDs and death certificates. Apparently. 

“Where are we going?” 

Hoseok immediately halted, catching you by surprise and nearly causing you to trip. 

“Here.” With an outstretched arm, Hoseok opened the door to a simple office. He held it for you as you crossed the threshold. 

“Please, take a seat.” 

You eased into one of the chairs in front of the desk, which Hoseok sat behind once he snapped the door shut. The fabric scratched into the back of your legs. 

Up close, Hoseok was even more breathtaking. You found that the horns weren’t as much of a creepy turnoff as you may have initially thought. Somehow, paired with the shimmering red tint to his eyes and the slits he had instead of proper circular pupils, you were rather turned on by this… otherworldly look he had going for him. It was spooky, in an “emo kid who works at Hot Topic and thinks Happy Tree Friends is edgy” kind of way. So… not spooky at all. Just endearing to the part of your brain where you’d locked up all your teen angst. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” 

You watched a transparent film slide sideways across Hoseok’s eyes and you realized he blinked with a third eyelid. 

Weird, but kind of hot. Fuck conventional beauty standards! You could dig it.  

“Because a handsome stranger brought me here?” You took a shot in the dark, though Hoseok didn’t appear to have followed you. He stared at you with his third eyelid and his slitted pupils and his sharpened teeth. 

Wow, he had really pointy teeth. 

“You’re here because…” Hoseok drummed his fingers against the surface of his desk. His nails were black and chipped. “You were never reaped.” 

“Reaped? Like, the Grim Reaper?” 

A low hiss came from the back of Hoseok’s throat. The sound made your skin prickle. 

“The Grim Reaper is not real.” His voice slithered out of his mouth at the same time his tongue did. It was red and forked. “You were supposed to be reaped by one of us when you died,” he gestured to himself, “a demon.” 

Well, obviously he was a demon. Or else he had a great sense of fashion. 

You leaned forward to rest your arms on Hoseok’s desk. If he thought his freaky tongue and animalistic eyes were going to scare you, he was terribly wrong. You’d been on Vampirefreaks.com back when it was still a social media platform. 

“Listen, Hoseokie. Can I call you Hoseokie?” Silence. “I don’t know why I’m here and I don’t know how I got here, but I promise you, I am not dead.” 

With a sigh, Hoseok flipped open the laptop on his desk. After a few moments of typing, he slid it toward you, adjusting the screen to make it easier for you to see. 

There was your profile again. Hoseok quickly scrolled down to the section you hadn’t gotten to read earlier, the part about when you’d died. 

“In my records, it states you are dead. As of,” he turned the screen toward himself for a moment, “As of 7 PM yesterday. Yet there is no record of how you died, where you died, nor which demon escorted you here. And no death certificate on file.” 

Clearly, the missing death certificate situation had rubbed the guy the wrong way. 

Maybe you should have felt more concerned that you had a snake-eyed self-proclaimed demon trying to convince you that you were dead and chilling out in Purgatory unchaperoned. But this was all fake, obviously. A dream. There was nothing to worry about. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Hoseokie.” You gave the man - demon - a shrug. 

Hoseok’s eyebrows pulled toward each other, causing the skin on his forehead to crease. 

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” 

“Oh really?” 

Hoseok pursed his lips and gave you a curt nod. 

“It already states here that you’ll be going to Hell, so I may as well just reap you myself since no one else has. I need to go downstairs anyway. We’ve been getting a high volume of damned souls recently and working overtime can be sustainable for only so long…” 

Whatever else Hoseok had to say about “demon burnout” during a time when debauchery was at its highest on Earth (“Aside from the 70s, wow, the 70s was a time.”), you didn’t hear the rest of it. There were more important things to worry about. 

You were going to Hell. 

“Wait, wait, wait, Hoseokie, wait a minute.” You curled your fingers around the edge of his laptop screen. “I’m going to Hell? For what?! I have done nothing wrong, ever, in my life.” 

This was the part where Hoseok was supposed to say, “I know this, and I love you.” 

Except he didn’t! The bastard just let his gorgeous mouth hang open and flicked his freaky forked tongue over those pearly fangs. 

“I beg to differ.” 

“How would you know?” 

A small smirk flitted across Hoseok’s face and you felt your stomach twist into knots. 

“Your memories, your experiences, your life - none of that belongs to you.” 

You couldn’t tell which was more unnerving, the words he said or the dark tone he said them in. With a shiver, you chose to ignore whatever riddle he was speaking to you in and tried to change your strategy. 

“Hoseokie, baby.” You ran your perfectly normal tongue along your lips and leaned even further into your companion’s personal space - as much as you could with a desk in between you. “Let’s not get carried away here.” 

“Proper protocol was not followed, so we must rectify that,” Hoseok huffed. His shoulders sagged slightly, causing him to lean inward. Maybe your cute nickname was finally breaking him. 

“Do we really?” 

“Yes.” 

“But, really? Hoseokie, babe, do I look like I belong in Hell?” 

The demon blinked with his third eyelid a few times. You watched the slit of his pupils flicker as he genuinely took the time to look you over. It was a hypothetical question and now you were scared of the actual answer. He was a demon, after all. He’d know what a damned soul looked like, right? 

“Well.” You watched Hoseok’s throat bob as he swallowed. “You did read a lot of serial killer fanfiction on AO3.” 

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms against your chest. 

“Are you kink-shaming me right now?” 

Hoseok mirrored your scoff and busied himself with tidying up a stack of loose papers on his desk, but you saw the way his cheeks turned a healthy shade of pink. 

Interesting. 

“So, I’m going to Hell because I read One Direction serial killer AUs? Really? That’s why I’m going to Hell?” 

“No!” Hoseok huffed again, louder this time. He ran his fingers through his hair and gave you a pleading look. “I don’t know! I don’t decide who goes to Hell, I just take them there!” 

“Then don’t take me.” 

It seemed like the obvious solution, but Hoseok looked at you like you’d threatened to kill him. 

“I have to take you.” 

“Oh yeah? Or else what?” You were back to leaning against his desk, your head in your hands and your elbows on the surface. “Satan damns you to some horrible eternal punishment?” 

Hoseok turned his head and mumbled to the side, “Something like that.”

You wanted to ask him what it mattered if he was already a demon working for Satan, but you figured that would push him a bit too far. Instead, you were just going to beg. Considering the circumstances, you allowed yourself to do it without hurting your self-respect. Dire times, dire measures. 

“Hoseokie, please,” you whined with your bottom lip jutted out. You reached out to hook your finger around one of his, pulling his hand away from where it rested against his chin. “Please, don’t take me to Hell. Let me stay here, with you.” 

“With me?” Hoseok’s eyes widened, slitted pupils dilating into ovals. 

“Mhmm, wouldn’t that be nice?” you purred, lightly tracing the lines of his palm with your index finger. “You’re so pretty and you look so stressed. What did you say earlier, about burnout? They aren’t taking care of you here, are they, Hoseokie?” 

The demon bit his lip. His razor-sharp teeth pressed deep indents into what you knew were soft pink lips. 

“I could help you out, Hoseokie, baby.” 

Those dark eyes shimmered red and finally met your gaze, though his face was still flushed and his expression almost… timid. 

“Help me out?” he murmured, almost as though he were talking himself through the conversation rather than asking you a question. 

“Mhmm…” 

You pressed your hands flat against the desk and hoisted yourself on top of it. The stack of papers Hoseok had just fixed went flying. He weakly reached out to stop a few of them from slipping off and floating to the carpeted floor. 

“I don’t know.” Hoseok’s voice wavered, though you had to give him credit for his ability to maintain eye contact with you as you scooted across the desk. 

“I think you do know, Hoseokie.” 

Hoseok shook his head, third eyelids putting in work to blink away the shock when you eased yourself into his lap. 

You’d been so caught up on how tall and menacing he’d looked in the hallway that you hadn’t stopped to consider the rest of his details, like how firm and comfortable his thighs were. You wiggled your ass to get settled, eliciting a low groan from the demon whose red eyes still rounded under your gaze. 

“I’m going to get in trouble,” he pleaded with you when you dug your fingers into his hair and yanked his head backward. “I really don’t want to get in trouble.” 

“And I really don’t want to go to Hell.” You dug your teeth into the soft skin of his throat and Hoseok let out a whimpered hiss. “Do you see our problem here?”

Of course, he could see the problem, but Hoseok was driven mute by your free hand palming his cock through his pants. His hold on your waist was bruisingly tight, but you kept a firm grip on his hair and a hot hand on his crotch. There was no way he was getting an upper hand in this, not that you expected him to. He was whimpering and pliant underneath you already. 

Maybe you were absolutely insane, but if you had to suck some demon dick to get out of Hell, you were going to fucking do it. No matter how weird it probably looked. 

“Y/N, wait.” Hoseok shuddered as you popped open the button of his pants and dragged down the zipper. “Listen to me, it’s not, it’s not a good idea.” 

You let your fingertips dance along the waistband of his underwear. You weren’t sure why it was funny that he was wearing underwear; it just seemed like such a silly thing for a demon to need. Out here reaping souls and getting angry over death certificates, and going to the store to buy underwear after work. 

It was just funny. 

“Why not, Hoseokie? Don’t tell me they don’t let you have a little fun around here.” You batted your eyes at him and slide your hand beneath the fabric. 

“It’s not- fuck.” 

Hoseok tried to lean forward, to curl into himself, when you pressed your thumb against his leaking slit, but you kept his head pulled backward by his hair. 

“Now, I’m gonna tell you what we’re gonna do, okay Hoseokie baby?” 

The demon opened his mouth to speak and you shivered as his forked tongue wet his lips. 

“Okay.” 

“Good little demon, thank you,” you cooed praise that made his face flush an even deeper red. “I’m going to suck your dick and then you’re gonna delete whatever record you have of me and we’re going to forget I was ever even here, alright?” 

When Hoseok didn’t speak, you squeezed the head of his cock. 

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes, alright,” he sputtered. 

“Good.” 

The bright side to all of this was that his dick didn’t look any different from any other dick you’d ever seen, although it did seem a bit long. Which was fine. You had hands, didn’t you? You knew how to do a little two-hand twist when needed. 

Just as you were about to slide off Hoseok’s lap and get on your knees, the door to his office flung open so hard it slammed against the wall. 

“Oh fuck,” Hoseok gulped. He quickly stuffed his cock back inside his pants and zipped his pants up with trembling fingers. 

“Oh fuck is right. What the fuck is going on here?” 

You turned to look over your shoulder at the person who owned such a smooth, sinister voice that dripped enough malice for you to drown in it. You felt your entire body grow cold when you were met with slitted eyes that glowed even more brightly than Hoseok’s. The eyes roamed your face, your body, your position still straddling Hoseok’s lap. And you did the same, your human eyes taking in the man’s black fitted suit, the swell of his thighs beneath the fabric, the pout of his lips, the craters his dimples made in his cheeks as he sucked on his teeth in seething anger. 

“I-I-I-I, Your Majesty,” Hoseok’s tongue fumbled over the words as he tried shoving you off of him. 

Oh shit, was this God? He was way too hot to be God. 

You stood when Hoseok did, the two of you blinking with your eyes wide and mouths hanging open like idiots in front of the sharply dressed man. Just past the doorway, you could see a few other men flanking the entrance, as though they were guarding it. 

“Don’t fucking call me Your Majesty while your cock is twitching in your pants, Hoseok. Have some decency,” the dimpled man chastised with a snort. 

Was God allowed to curse? You supposed he was, but multiple F-bombs and a casual “cock” thrown around seemed like a lot for a guy who was meant to be the holiest of the holy.

“And you.”

You poked your index finger against your chest when the man suddenly loomed over you. 

“Me?”

“You’re supposed to be with me.” 

You rose your eyebrows and shot Hoseok a look, but he had his eyes on the floor. 

“Oh… you’re not God…”

You felt fire lick and burn up your chest and across your throat when the man leaned his head back to bellow a laugh so deep you swore the walls moved just as they had for Hoseok when he walked. 

“Sweet of you to think so highly of the Devil, little human.” 

Aw, fuck. 

You were going to Hell.

“Now, listen, the One Direction serial killer AUs weren’t actually that bad. Like, if you’d just give it a chance, you’d understand,” you began. 

“Reasoning with me is futile, pet.” 

The sound of your teeth clamping shut echoed through the room. You probably should have been scared of how poisonous his tone sounded, but excitement thrummed in your stomach. 

No one had ever called you pet before. It was kind of cute. 

“Now, let’s go, shall we?” 

If Satan had a problem with the way you whimpered when he wrapped a smooth, tan hand around your bicep to haul you out of the room, he didn’t make any indication. If anything, you thought he squeezed you a bit tighter. 

“I didn’t think Satan would be so buff,” you murmured and you heard Hoseok choke. 

You’d all but forgotten about the guy. 

“Oh! Hoseokie!” You twisted your neck around to face him as Satan began leading you away. “Thanks for hanging out! I forgive you for being such a rule follower!” 

You turned up to look at Satan’s face which was a bit hard to do considering he was so tall and all legs and pecs that looked better than any boobs you’d ever seen. It was very distracting. 

“You’re not going to damn him to some horrible eternal punishment, are you?” 

“I think working here is punishment enough, don’t you?”  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & ao3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work 

[kawaii-leilei54]

Airplane

Bf! hoseok x gf! reader

Genre: fluff

"Baby?" He calls out as he slides his shoes off and drops his duffle bag.

He had just come back home off tour, exhausted but he missed you more than anything.

It was fun, performing for army, and laughing at the poster boards they made.

But boy was it a lot of work, being the main dancer isnt easy

Countless night where he stayed awake over thinking every move, thinking about what he could've done better and what he needed to do to fix his mistakes.

He would think about you and how he missed cuddling you to sleep, how he missed your smile and you giggles.

He was so thankful that you would wait for him, that you were willing to make your relationship work despite his job.

He loves his job, and his members.

But he also loves you, with all he has.

"Hoseok!" You call out as you jump out of bed, just waking up from a nap.

You run into his arms and hug him tightly.

"You said you wouldn't be home for another day!"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." He smirks and giggles.

He kisses all over your face.

"I missed you so much." He whispers.

"I missed you more." You say softly.

You spend the rest of the night, snuggled up in each other and ordered some take out.

You let him talk about how stressful the tour was and how glad he was that everything went well, How happy he was to be home.

You listened, you knew how important his fans and his performance was to him and you supported him in everyway.

But he never let it become between you two.

And you appreciated that.

You appreciated him.

He appreciated your support and love just as much as his fans, and his member's.

But overall, he missed you..so much.

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: July 2024

Hi! Thank you so much for looking at my fic recs— I truly hope you find something that you haven’t read, or something to reread maybe? Please show all of these wonderful authors some love on their original post to let them know they made something wonderful ✨

Some of the authors on this list is on hiatus, but please don’t let that stop you from reblogging or commentating on their story— because you don’t know when they might pop back in and see your lovely comment/reblog, so please— if you like something, show some love to the author 🥰

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | 💜 | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄.

⭐Ours @worldwidemochiguy [3.4k]  // knj x f.reader x myg x jhs // est. relationship, polyamorous, yandere, criminal!au, university!au // 🥵😈

📝 you’ve always known that Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok are ‘dangerous’, but when one of your classmates decides to try and approach you, you learn just how dangerous they really are….

🗨️ utter delicious filth. That is what this is 🥵 really good, and I weirdly wanna know more about all of rap line’s background 😂 but holy shit, the smut 🔥

⭐Next Level, Space Level @back2bluesidex [1.4k]  // knj x f.reader // idol!au, cheating!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 how can Namjoon deny you when you are ready to give yourself to him?

🗨️ I feel so bad for Jimin 😭 I hate cheating, but the story was really good and I loved that Namjoon knew and felt it was wrong, but poor man wouldn’t help himself in the end 😭 OC was indeed a siren in this one 😭

⭐1-Year Anniversary @johobi [7.8k] // knj x f.reader // est. relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 your 1-year anniversary is fast approaching and you’re determined to gift Namjoon the one thing he would never dare ask for. 

🗨️ omg this was so utterly amazing and hot 🥵✨ Another favorite and I loved everything about it 💯💜

⭐Embrace @rmnamjoons [3.9k] // knj x f.reader // bf2l, idol!au // 🥵🥰

📝 you and Namjoon have been best friends for years, and you’ve been secretly in love with him basically the entire time. You both love cuddling and being close, much to the amusement of your friends, but to you, being with Namjoon like this means everything. You’ve always believed that Namjoon didn’t feel the same way as you, no matter how much you wanted him to, but maybe there is actually something else behind Namjoon’s cuddles, other than just innocent friendship.

🗨️ this is so fucking soft, cute and sweet and the smut is just so tender 🥹 a really awesome read and I really love it! Might read this one again sometime ✨💯💜

⭐My Only Wish @ppersonna [15.1k] // knj x f.reader // e2l, fake dating!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 there are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

🗨️ the way that I am screaming and kicking because of how incredibly awesome this was 😭✨ The tension? The built up?? God. That tension was so fucking thick and hot, I was going feral through most of the reading. I mean, what isn’t there to love in this one? Amazing, I loved it so fucking much it’s illegal 💯💖🥹

⭐Everything I Brew, I Brew it for You @angelicyoongie [2.1k] // ksj x f.reader // f2l, witch!au // 🥰🪄

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ oh this was really cute and I loved their chemistry 🥹🥰

⭐10 Years @yoonpobs [7.2k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend // 🌩️

📝 10 years change people but you still remember.

🗨️ I really like this because of the angst and tension in it and also, because of the ending! So so good, and I love that oc is being true to herself 🥹✨ It’s really angsty and on the sad side!

⭐Reunion Sex @jeonsbabygirlsworld [1.7k] // ksj x f.reader // est. relationship, marriage!au // 🥵

📝 Seokjin has been now out from his military service, but he has buried himself with work and you miss him, miss sex.

🗨️ so hot 🥵

⭐I’m All Yours @sailoryooons [2.3k] // ksj x f.reader // bf2l, idiots2lovers // 🥰

📝 you’ve been in love with your best friend Jin for as long as you can remember. You know everything about him – except that he is also entirely in love with you.  

🗨️ soft, cute, sweet, sugary fluff 😭 It’s so good, perfect and amazing. Loved it 💖 💯

⭐Sit. Stay. @daechwitatamic [14k] // ksj x f.reader // s2l, neighbors!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 your new puppy, Zinnia, has turned your world on its head. She’s ruined everything from your sleep schedule to your favorite shoes, and you know it’s your own failure to train her properly. When your cute upstairs neighbor tells you about a local obedience academy, he slowly starts to make himself a place in your schedule, your life, and your heart. After your last relationship went up in flames, will his affections be something else you can count as a failure? 

🗨️ this was so fucking cute 🥹 The plot was super cute and sweet, oc with her puppy, meeting Seokjin 🥹 It was just so fluffy, I feel so warm and giddy after reading this. I loved it and a new favorite hands down 💯💖

⭐Those Eyes Chico [ongoing series] @kookslastbutton [n/a] // myg x f.reader // idol!au, coworkers2f2l, slowburn, forbidden love // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 as the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

🗨️ this is so so so incredibly good! It’s very cute and soft and it’s so nice to explore their relationship. I’ve read the first three chapters and they’re so good! I can’t wait to read more of this series ✨

⭐Whirlwind @ysljoon [3.1k]  // myg x f.reader // e2l // 🥵

📝 with a hurricane coming your way towards your state, your roommate provides a safe haven to the man you’ve despised for as long as you can remember.

🗨️ fucking hell, I love forced proximity 😭 and then you throw enemies to lovers in it? With Yoongi?? ✨ I loved the plot and the smut too! Jimin was indeed a sneaky little thing, and I think he planned this all along lol 😂 Seriously loved it 💖

⭐STEAM [completed series] @hoseoksluna [n/a] // myg x f.reader x jjk // est. relationship, threesome // 🌩️🥵

📝 one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

🗨️ I’ve finally read the whole thing and it was so fucking damn amazing! Incredible! There’s a lot of angst though, but it’s so so good.

⭐Between the Titles @highvern [9.5k] // myg x f.reader // f2l, university!au, library!au // 🥵🥰😂

📝 five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

🗨️ wow omg this one is amazing 😭 It is super cute, and funny too!!! I loved the extra books oc and Yoongi gave each other, very passive aggressive flirting and the titles was fucking hilarious 😂 I fucking loved it! Everything about it, the writing, the tension between oc and Yoongi, roommate Tae, Jungkook, well, everything was just so fucking perfect ✨💯

⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] @kithtaehyung [n/a] // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ 3tan is back on the list!!! 🥰 In case you haven’t read the new extra ‘Lollipop’ please go do it now, it’s so fucking good, sweet and dirty ✨

⭐Sonic Rain @jungblue [25k] // jhs x f.reader // s2l, dancer!au, college!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 feeling as if molasses coats his bones isn’t a good metaphor for a dance major like Hoseok, but maybe you’re the girl that can wash his troubles away… Now if only he’d gotten your damn number.

🗨️ wow. This was so freaking amazing I’m slightly speechless! The plot was amazing, their chemistry exceptional. I really loved how cheeky and bratty MC was 🥵 and the rain? Dancing in the rain? I just imagined that step up rain scene 😭 I loved Jimin and Sana too, such good and supportive friends and Hobi to them too 🥹 And the smut….. Fuuuuccckkk it was so good 😭🥵 If you haven’t read this one, please do it now! ✨💯

⭐Jealous @jamaisjoons [3.4k] // jhs x f.reader // idol!au, est. relationship, pwp // 🥵

📝 Hoseok’s jealousy really brings out the dom in him.

🗨️ whaaaaat 🥵🥵🥵

⭐Blue Side @hamsterclaw [7.7k] // jhs x f.reader // brother’s best friend, criminal!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 Hoseok's always known you as Namjoon's little sister. One day, he realises you're more than a match for him.

🗨️ oh my, my palms were sweaty and my heart was beating so fast while I read this! The pacing and wording was so good! I loved the action scenes, the racing and all the projection from both Namjoon and Hobi 🥹 so sweet 🥹 I really loved it 💖

⭐Blue Side Next Door @scriptaed [24.1k] // jhs x f.reader // f2l, neighbors!au // 🌩️🥰

📝 between the windows of two souls, one with a perpetually lone heart and another with the scar of an unfaithful partner, the blue side overlooking the roof of their neighborhood best friend is a solace that has stood against the test of time. they were there to lend the other a shoulder to cry on, to spend the entirety of dawn whispering the night away, and to treat them in a way they deserved, a way no one else was capable of; because for the two childhood friends blinded by the thin line between friends and lovers, the soulmate they’ve both been searching for far and wide has always been right next door all along.

🗨️ this was so cute, sweet and fluffy, a bit bittersweet at times, but damn, it was just so cute 🥹 It was a lovely and fantastic read ✨💯

⭐Exposed @jeonsweetpea [4.9k]  // jhs x f.reader // idol!au, coworkers2l // 🥵

📝 you oversleep instead of getting ready for an interview shooting and your stylist is not pleased. The two of you rush to the elevator, only for it to break down. Now you both are trapped and he decides to give you a punishment.

🗨️ WOW HELLO??? 🥵 How Hoseok seamlessly switches between devilish Hoseok and angelic Hobi was so fun and hot, damn. He was really a menace to oc, but fuck it was so fucking hot 🥵 I really loved it 💖

⭐Gleaming Silver @crystaljins [3.5k]  // pjm x f.reader // f2l, pirate!au, mermaid!au // 🥰🪄

📝 you love and trust your captain above all. But perhaps he’s not the man- or rather human you thought him to be.

🗨️ this is a short one, but it’s so fucking cute. There’s some lore in it too, and it’s just so good! You have to read it ✨

⭐Innocence @swanlakebaby [2.6k]  // pjm x f.reader // est. relationship, virgin!au // 🥰🥵

📝 jimin taking your innocence.

🗨️ okay this a was really sweet and cute idol!au 🥹🥰

⭐Just a Little Bit of Love (is all you really need) @gukyi [4.5k] // pjm x f.reader // s2l, gymnastics/dancer!au // 🥰

📝 jimin’s something of a legend at gymnastics, but suddenly you walk in and turn his whole world upside down. quite literally, might i add. 

🗨️ this is so freaking cute and sweet 🤭🥹 It’s completely SFW, and so so good! 

⭐The Underneath @sailoryooons [1.7k] // pjm x f.reader // s2l, monster!jimin, thriller/horror // 🥰

📝“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil OR there is a monster under your bed and you've looked back at it for too long. 

🗨️ this was so so good! It’s very thrillery with undertones of horror. I really liked it ✨

⭐Cherry Blossoms @chateautae [12k] // pjm x f.reader // magic!au, mentor!jimin // 🥰🥵🌩️🪄

📝 despising the lack of offensive capability to your lackluster powers, your father, the school’s chancellor, signs you up for lessons with the magic university’s top-rated guard, park jimin. known to be an intense, reserved man with ruthless skills in battle, you come to learn he not only goes hard in a fight, but goes hard in another ruthless form of art—fucking.

🗨️ omg 😭 perfection?? That is what this was! The story and plot is cool and cohesive, the dynamic between MC and Jimin, damn it was hot! She doesn’t really believe in herself, but he believes in her, and tries to get her to see her own potential 🥹🥹🥹🥹 Cute! But then it gets filthy! And hot! There’s rain!!!! There’s smut in the rain! What more can I ask for?? ✨ It was just amazing! I loved it! Also all the magic, MC’s ability and then Jimin’s magic! They’re almost a contrast to each other, which I also really like! This is hands down one of my all time favorites!!! 💯💜✨

⭐Coffee Rings @tteokggukk [1.7k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, grief!au, deceased reader // 🌩️

📝 it’s been a year since you and taehyung went your separate ways, but today’s your birthday and he misses you more than ever. though he never really liked coffee, he drinks them now because it reminds him of you. to pass the time, he heads over to your favorite coffee shop at one in the morning. what he did not expect, however, was to see you walking in, smiling at him.

🗨️ I cried okay 😭 it is sad, and cute, but mostly sad 😭 but it was really good ✨

⭐Kiss Me @euphoriyoongi [2.5k]  // kth x f.reader // e2l // 🌩️🥰

📝 you and Taehyung didn’t get along ever since you met. But as you both carried on with your life, it seemed like fate tied both of you together. One night you both discover your true feelings.

🗨️ this was so sweet and cute, it almost made me tear up 🥺 really beautiful and I loved it 💖

⭐The Phantom @darkestcorners [8.1k]  // kth x f.reader // s2l, yandere, horror, paranormal // 🌩️😈👻

📝 spending Halloween serving preteens greasy popcorn and cleaning spilled soda off the carpets isn’t what you had in mind for a fun night. But lucky for you, your night is about to get real interesting when a series of unfortunate events start occurring throughout the movie theater and your soon to uncover the horrifying curse that surrounds your part-time job.

🗨️ if you’re into thriller and yandere stories, this one might be for you! I was at the edge of my seat with this one and my heart was beating so damn fast trying to uncover what was happening while I read. It was a little bit predictable, but the ending blew my mind (and surprised me) ✨

⭐Waterloo @kinktae [13k] // kth x f.reader // s2l, photographer!au, art!au, slowburn, romcom // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn’t believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love.”

🗨️ such a beautiful love story 🥹😭 I loved everything about it, how oc was not giving a shit about Taehyung, and how that in fact drew him in 🥰✨ And damn the ending, I loved it so much 🥹💜💯

⭐Good for Me @icedmatchatae [7.8k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, bad boy!au // 🥵🥰

📝 you went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

🗨️ weeee damn the smut was so hot in this one 🥵 also, this is almost like a “forbidden” relationship 🤭 I liked it very much 💜

⭐Chasing Cars [ongoing series] @oddinary4bts [n/a] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, forbidden love!au, college!au, slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

🗨️ are you really surprised to find this here again? 💜 I do have stuff to add this month, so! I really truly love everything that Ella writes, and this series deals with so much trauma, it’s insane. It’s really heavy, but it’s so beautiful and delicate too?? I highly recommend reading it— it’s still ongoing (on chapter 12 out of 18). You’re in for a ride though, it’s pretty emotional. But it’s so human. It feels so real, deep and haunting. It’s amazing ✨

⭐Bite Me, Jeon @sailoryooons [19.3k] // jjk x f.reader // f2l, vampire!au, college!au // 🥵🌩️👻🪄

📝 somehow you convince Jeon Jungkook to look into theories of vampirism for a research paper. What Jungkook doesn’t expect, is for vampirism to become a very real and very personal problem for him.

🗨️ this one is insanely good! It’s so amazing! This one reminds me of Ghostfacers from Supernatural, lol. It was so freaking funny. I was pleasantly surprised at the plot, and I loved it. If you haven’t read this one yet, and you love vampires, this one is definitely for you!!! 🥰

⭐The Boys are Back in Town @dntaewithluv [3.2k]  // jjk x f.reader x pjm // f2l, threesome // 🥵🥰😂

📝 getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

🗨️ this was so good! I really love this one 💖

⭐When Worlds Collide [ongoing series] @letjungcoook7 [n/a] // jjk x f.reader // college!au, slice of life!au, s2l, fuckboy!jk, virgin!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 since your mother's passing a year ago, life has been a whirlwind. balancing your passion for ballet with a low-key presence at college, where you’re the top student, was your norm until Jungkook stepped into your world. known for his reputation preceding him, jungkook is the talk of the campus with his casual rendezvous that have the girls buzzing. despite his allure, you're puzzled by his need for your tutoring prowess, especially given his own academic merit. yet, succumbing to his persistent requests, you reluctantly agree, only to find yourself thrust into the spotlight you've always avoided.

🗨️ There was a new chapter released this month!! It’s still so good! ✨

⭐Confided @cravetive [5k] // jjk x f.reader // neighbor!au // 🥵

📝 y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.

🗨️ holy shit it was amazing and the smut….. Fuuuuck I’m not gonna lie here okay, I was dripping, I was feeling it so fucking bad and damn. It was hot. The plot was so silly and hot, like omg 🥵

This section features member x member stories— if you’re not into that, it’s okay, and you can just skip it. Otherwise enjoy 🥰

⭐Lavender Lover @gimmethatagustd [20.3k] // kth x pjm // f2l, vampire!au, soulmate!au // 🥵🥰🌩️🪄

📝 Taehyung broke all his rules for Jimin, even when it hurt.

🗨️ I am literally screaming and kicking myself 😭✨ This was perfect in every way imagined. Like fuck. And vampires? 🤧🥵 The smut?! It was so fucking hot, especially because Taehyung had practically denied himself for so long. Not wanting to put into words what was truly happening. Fuck. It was so good. Like the plot, the lore??? Come on! Amazing! I also loved Yoongi a lot, he was really funny 🤭 And the ending 😭 I was a hopeless romantic sobbing my heart out 🤧🤧🤧 it was so incredibly good and beautiful ✨ I think everyone should give this lovely piece a read 😍

⭐End of the World [21.3k]  // myg x f.reader // s2l, apocalypse!au // 🥵🥰😂🌩️👻

📝 your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? 

⭐Stuck in a Cabin [5.5k]  // pjm x f.reader // e2l, pwp // 🥵😂

📝 cute and innocent looking Park Jimin is your lifetime nemesis that you’ve already fallen into bed with not once, but twice. Will a snowy weekend trip with your friends to a cabin in the woods make it the third time you get with your enemy? 

⭐to mend what’s broken [1.3k]  // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🌩️🥰

📝 struggling with childhood trauma, you believe you’re worthless and undeserving of love, but your fiancé showers you in love and lets you know otherwise.

Thank you so much for reading my rec list, I hope you’ll reblog it to make it reach more people! There’s some insanely good reads on here ✨

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Love you and borahae 💜

[hoseoksluna]

BLACKBERRIES | jhs ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!hobi x berries!oc

genre: smut, angst

word count: 6.1k

summary: opening jungkook's message brought in a blessing and a curse.

pinterest board: blackberries / taglist: join

warnings: breeding kink, raw sex, hobi rubs your clit......., provider!hobi, talks of pregnancy, slight nipple play, oc cries, ruined sex and orgasm, swearing, spanking, talks of punishment, heavy daddy issues

note: i loved every minute of writing this part, so i'm happy to bring it to you, finally. it brought a lot of clarity and direction as i was writing mindlessly all this time. this series will have one or two more parts (probably two more) and then i'll finally be done writing about two members:D. i love you, guys, so much. let me know what you think. i miss you. i hope you like this as much as i do. <3

The morning has spilled in like a friend through the dusky pink curtains, casting a soft light over the place Hobi is focusing on as he’s buried in your femininity, balls-deep. Lingering there as if he was nesting at home. 

You haven’t slept a wink. Neither has he, restless by your sadness-induced insomnia, zapped with consistent life by the threat that lit up your phone when drowsiness asked for your hand, longing to take you to its kingdom. If you were to become a princess, the matter was snatched away from you—or rather tossed back and forth as you drifted in and out of that threshold. Hobi suggested to you to open the attachment sent in the message, rip the skeleton out of the closet and burn it in celebration of your wedding, so you could rest… but you couldn’t. You were fearful and you lacked courage, because you knew that if you were to make your eyes the witness of what regret has forced Jungkook to do, calmness wouldn’t have been the embrace you sought. 

That is, if regret was truly the wave of emotion that swam past those starlit irises of his. You don’t trust your memories anymore—they’ve become a chaos of mist that you get stuck in when you dare to wade in it. And it’s so peculiar that you have to do it willfully, instead of being wholly swallowed by them, instead of being so unfairly and awfully haunted by them that there’s nothing left for you to do but to relive the anguish over and over again. 

To Hobi’s suggestion, you proposed to wait until the morning comes and the new day’s strength and possibilities greet you. You don’t really know where you found this wisp of positivity in you, but you twiddled with it all night, acknowledging yourself with it. The full moon rose up high in the blackness of the sleeping heavens, no cloud covered its magnificent light shining wistfully over the way Hobi spooned you and it gave you the notion, the whim to be as bare as it was. He had marked you with its phase, foreshadowed this flourishment with its crescent likeness on the flesh of your thigh, so you figure it’s only right that you use it when it’s right in front of you—that you complete it, make it full. 

You are going to confront Jungkook. Take the other end of this blanket’s pained darkness and flip it to its other side. Let the moonlight have it as you watch, hands by your side. Let the rays sweep it clean of its thick dust until it resembles its very own face. End the relationship once and for all. 

That means talking to him in a way that doesn’t correspond to the emotional violence that occurred hours ago. That means killing it with kindness, not raising your voice, nor your fists. And you wish to do it alone—without Hobi’s presence. You’re aware that if he were there, it would be proper. And not only that, he would also step in if the situation asked for it, but something tells you that this time… it’s not going to be a fight. 

It’s going to be a calm conversation between two humans that used to be close. 

This notion had been whispered to you the moment the light of your phone died until the sun awakened. Its voice kept you uneasy and fidgety—partly because you don’t know to whom the voice belonged to, partly because you simply don’t trust yourself. Being mean and uncompromising with him served as a shield. You don’t know what’s going to happen once you’re in a room with him all defenseless, but you have to risk it. 

You’ve been feeling very intensely that it’s meant to happen. 

It’s what Hobi has been feeling as well, taking your jitteriness in his grasp and kissing it away. He had begun at the nape of your neck and your shoulder and you encouraged him by closing your hand over his and leading it beneath the duvet, thinking that perhaps if you head into this direction of his holy lust, you’d find answers, you’d find instructions, words you could use later to unravel to Jungkook. You regarded his unfolding responsibility over your emotions as so terribly fatherly—grounding and validating that it aroused you; it soaked your little pajama shorts that he had dressed you in and the low gasp that reached your ears when he discovered it with the guided movement of his fingers… it felt better than any hit of the blackberry vape he bought you. 

Hence why you hushed your disagreement when Hobi shifted, craving to taste you. You wanted the clasp of the connection between you and him fully shut by having him inside you, and so you reached behind yourself, grabbed that intimate part of him to stroke him, to get him fully erect, letting go of him only for a brief moment to drag your shorts and underwear down. You didn’t perceive his hesitancy until he took a hold of your hasty hand, shadowing it with his palm against your knuckles like he had done yesterday in his car. 

His breath trembled before he spoke. “You’re not prepared enough for me.” 

You didn’t find your words until he sank his fingers between yours, another grounding sensation washing over you as he guided your hand to the parts of his manhood that feel the most stimulating for him. The tip of his cock and down his balls, his kids that he had promised that were yours. The essence of it drenched you even more, without him knowing—the perfect picture, greater than any painting you ever saw, of him loosening himself inside of you, the hot spurts, his growls, deepened by the flaring passion, then the clicking of connection, and your belly, full and swollen, carrying a concoction of him and you that will live beyond your death. 

“I can take it like this,” were your truthful words, head turned halfway to him as your side position allowed it to. 

Hobi closed his mouth over your cheek in a slow, deep kiss that you’ve never experienced before. A rising tide of tears flooded your eyes and stayed there, not wanting to pour over. His care, his knowing better, his responsibility, all the principle of his fatherliness. It soothed your body, encouraged the picture in your mind to bloom with more vivid colors. 

It was illogical, plain stupid to think like this within a week of knowing him, but why did it feel so right? Why did it feel like a step that didn’t waver underneath your bare feet, like the soft sand under the stable, still weight of the sea, right as a small, murmuring wave laps at the shore. Why did it feel that way? How come these thoughts never burst forth whenever Jungkook held you down and did everything that made your body call him Daddy? 

Was it because sex with Hobi never felt like a playtime, but something way more serious? Something way more mature, ripened, that had that darkened, tangy flavor of blackberries. A flavor that lasted, didn’t dissipate after swallowing. Something that you’ve strongly begun to believe is able to run the course of your entire life; that has the enigma to break the curse. 

Your attachment to him developed, grew a small pair of wings that curled within his chest, shivering like a newborn child. Not screaming, not crying. Quiet, calm, serene. 

Your tears threatened to pour out, its former decision not to wearing out. Your emotions longed to submit, longed to rest—and you broke open the lock, longing to love yourself back. 

“Let me rub your little clit and get you ready for it, pup. It’s gonna hurt if I don’t and that’s not happening under my watch,” he murmured, dragging his fingernails up your arm, flattening the pads of his fingers on the way down your breast and ribs, rooting at the overspilling pooch of your stomach—the source of your river of tears. He left gooseflesh in his wake as your liquid, freed emotions trickled down your cheeks, one that he warmed by pressing your back flush against his chest, placing the side of your head on top of yours, lips puckered in an eternal, oscillating kiss—the makeshift, heart-shaped sunlight that shines through the surface of your river. 

Overwhelmed by it all, you could only nod. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you strong, you want that?” Hobi continued, hand sneaking down your mound, your feminine flesh until he reached your heat, collecting your nectar, then drifting back up to your clit, stopping there. You writhed, your bum pushing up against him, mewling your agreement. “Spread your legs for me.” 

You parted them and Hobi followed your movement with his palm, guiding you to hook one of your legs behind his, shifting you a little onto your back, giving him more space for the expansion of the eternity of his kisses. He fondled your cheek with his, acknowledging himself with your tears, forcing them to be his when he breathed them in, exhaling with a mournful sigh. 

You had never been mourned before. And the feeling was too great—too, too great. 

“Don’t cry, pup. I’m gonna make it right. Everything.” 

He didn’t wish to fix you; he was determined to fix your life. You began to sob, your fingers finding his temple, sinking into his silky hair. Hobi waited for the halt of your liquidity, thinking it’s sadness, but your emotions didn’t bear its face. They were clothed in thankfulness and wore the face of a bride of felicity, a woman who carried dejection in her arms for her entire life, only to have been gifted joy by a man who saw her, met her and listened to his heart when it asked for her. 

You placed his hand right back, where it belonged. Became aware how his fingertips were the perfect size for the swollenness of your clit, which led you to think it was created for him, for his fingers only; that no one else would ever touch it because there would be no one after him. It has become his until the end of time. 

“I’m not gonna touch you when you’re crying,” Hobi whispered and you shook your head, pressing his middle finger against that sensitive part of you. 

“I’m not sad, baby,” you said in the same hushed tone, which halted your tears. “I’m happy. Those are happy tears. Touch me, please.” 

He used the same hand to turn your chin for his lips to kiss yours, slow and passionate, making you cry out. He sighed against you, breaking the exchange of affection to look at you in the growing, muted light, irises flicking between yours, deep in thought. And when he licked his fingertips and rubbed your clit, you realized he did it in order to watch your reaction because those same irises fluttered back into his head. He hissed, baring his teeth, and you mewled little sounds that almost made him roll them back again. 

“Your clit is so swollen,” Hobi commented, love stretching over his eyes, and your walls clenched, tightly. You knew in that very instant that the love you saw got engraved along those fleshy walls of yours, never to regrow into its former state. 

“My body is asking for you,” you murmured, using the similar words that you did yesterday in his car, when you teased him. 

He moaned. “Oh, yeah?” 

It were your eyes that rolled back and you let him espy your perversely innocent obsession with those two words. Your torso lifted off of the mattress, hips twirling in the rhythm of his circles, your throat emitting the sweetest, most prolonged noises. And he swore, mouth parted. 

“You like when I say that?” 

You nodded, your orgasm quickening in tandem with his motions. The blush that appeared upon his cheeks casted the room in a rosy glow. Even the moon shone differently—more gently, the heavens dressing themselves in the dawn of his warm emotions. It added much to the coming of your climax, the same colors dipping inside, and you yearned for his lips. 

“Kiss me, please.” 

He kissed you with a delicate hunger, burying his nose into your cheek, breathing hard. His other hand had sneaked around your torso when you arched it and as he kissed you, he lifted the hem of your pajama shirt and brushed his palm over your nipples. Streaks of the pinks of his dawn blasted in your dark vision, sizzling once he grabbed both of your breasts in that same hand, and your body gained momentum in its writhing dance, your nubs stimulated. And when his tongue greeted yours, you came.

His fingers glided along your wetness as you fell down from your high, unable to kiss him back. Hobi watched you with enlarged pupils and with reddened, puffy lips, out of which trickled little, rough noises of pleasure. He was pleased to see what he saw, cordially mellow life spreading over you, changing you. You felt it and you were fearful of it abandoning you, clutching it with all your might on the inside and he helped you—sank his fingers inside your heat, stretching you out, desiring to see it blanketing you, perpetually. 

And then he was on top of you, driving his cock up and down your glinting femininity, panting, licking his lips, murmuring something about how he wanted to look at your face when he gave you what you wanted. He held himself steady in his fist, humming with each snap of his hips, his buff figure glistening in sweat. But all that your attention was painted with was the blessed picture of him getting you pregnant. It dizzied your senses, hormones rushing in, overpowering everything else. 

And you didn’t voice it out until he was mid-stroke. 

“I want you to breed me so bad.” 

Hobi growled, gutturally, stomach clenching—making his abdominal muscles more prominent than before. He fucked you hard, stopping after each rock of his hips, your body reverberating. 

“Be quiet or I won’t last.” 

Due to the hormones intoxicating your brain, his rejection saddened you and your mouth rounded in a pout, hands clasping his muscled arms, your manicured fingernails scratching down the skin. Hobi only cooed at your reaction, leaning his weight on one arm, his hand petting your cheek, thumb tracing the half-moon of your mouth, failing to precisely follow the line, quivering as he continued to ram into you. 

He grinned once your expression broke and melted into an angelically lustful one. He gave you the entirety of him, his mound kissing yours, again and again. 

You caught your breath, got used to the overbearing sensation of him rapidly prodding your guts. “Give me your kids, please, please.” 

And your plea didn’t have an ending until he decided. 

“If you say please one more time, I’ll stop.” 

And you did. 

He pulled out, brows shadowing his deepening blush, and he pinned your hands behind your head, leaning his weight on them. His bedewed cock twinkled on the pooch of your tummy and you closed your thighs over it as much as your position allowed you, your legs hanging over his shoulders. 

“Eyes on me,” Hobi commanded and you lifted your gaze, boring it into his. “You make me wanna do bad fucking things to you,” he continued, groaning when you squeezed the muscles of your thighs, affected by his words—your heart quickened, drunk by the dark side of his desire. “Punish you. Ruin you. But I can’t. I can’t when you’re such an angel, when you’re so bite-sized. You deserve nothing but love and gentleness, so don’t fucking tempt me and let me fuck you like you deserve.” 

Maddened by his words, you began to lift your hips, thighs clenched, feeling small, courageous and girlish. Hobi closed his eyes, moaning. Fucked your thighs until he couldn’t take it anymore, holding them steady, staring you down. Then, he pried them apart and made love to them with his mouth, rooting at your stomach, marking it just once—on the skin just beside your belly button. 

“I love your little tummy so much,” he whispered, biting it, biting into your insecurity and chewing it out, making you cry out in pleasure. Took your hands in his, rubbed your knuckles. “Are you gonna be a good pup now?” 

Your femininity drooled for him and you nodded, but he wanted you to use your words. 

“I’m gonna be a good pup now, Hoseok.” 

He swore, kissing you hard on the mouth. “I don’t know what makes me crazy first. Hearing you say your pet name or hearing you say my name. You’re so good. So good to me.”

It was melting, what occurred next. In the same, poetic way the night melted into the morning, Hobi melted into you. He began to fuck you, languidly. No rush, no hastiness. Eye contact, hand holding. Nose to nose. Time might have stopped between you and him, but it went on beyond the atmosphere of the love you felt surrounding it from within. It reminded you of the love that swam past his eyes, of the way it got engraved on the walls of your heat—and with every tranquil stroke, you sensed him etching it deeper. The poem you recited for him, the picture of your swollen belly, the curved lines of his endeared eyes. You’ve gotten lost in it, and so has he—in the cherub pendant of your necklace, sitting proudly on your chest. The rosy light as it longs to look, too, at his studying material. It’s what brings him into the present time, tender eyes flicking to the side, where the light is spilling from, realizing that the morning has come. 

He places his hand flat on your chest, fingers over the cherub. “You’re wearing yourself on your necklace. Little baby angel with pretty, pretty wings.” 

You pucker your mouth, asking for a kiss, heart warmed by the fact he’s mentioning something that’s so dear to you. He gives it to you, chaste and gentle, whimpering against you as he twitches inside your femininity. He begins to move, smoothly, at that same slow pace. Love—that must be the wordless expression of love. You tremble all over.

“What do my wings look like?” you ask, thumb stroking his knuckle as your hands remain intertwined with his. You tighten your hold, stealing some of his stability. 

Hobi doesn’t pause to think; his answer is ready on the tip of his tongue. “You’re golden, pup. From head to toe, but differently. You’re smothered in pink. Gold and pink.” 

His imaginary wings quiver, pink and black. You sigh, pleased, heart thumping. 

“The sun is up,” he says, kissing your neck once. “Are you strong and brave like that angel to open the message?” 

You widen your eyes, mouth parting and drying in shock. “Now?” 

He smiles, lazily, focusing his kisses on your cheek. “Yes, now, pup. So I can make you forget about what you saw right after.” 

A moan escapes you and you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his back. Hobi picks up the speed, whimpering in your ear, hands gripping your waist—grounding you, giving you the notion that nothing bad could ever happen to you when he holds you like this, when he makes those sounds for you and when he’s connected with you like this. You can taste his strength when he nestles himself inside you to the hilt all over again,. And you smack your mouth, loving the tangy flavor of it. 

What a perfect time to open the message. 

“Okay. I can do it.” 

Hobi coos. “That’s my pup.” 

You clench around him and he growls, kissing you, the sound traveling down to your heart, steeling it. Breaking the kiss, he reaches over for your phone and hands it to you. You position it so both of you can see the screen as you tap on the singular notification, your stomach rippling while your heart remains strong. And while it loads, you whisk your gaze to Hobi. 

He’s nibbling his bottom lip. 

Nervous. 

Ache seizes you and you’d say fuck it and fling your phone away, but you’re aware you need to do this. So you and Hobi can have the needed peace. It’s a step towards the confrontation that will follow soon. 

“Can you hold my hand?” you ask, mouth rounded in tender emotion and Hobi doesn’t hesitate to take your hand. Interlacing your fingers with his in his style, he keeps your hand pressed against his chest and you can feel the vibrations of his violent heart. 

Your ache grows. 

The picture has finished loading. 

A canvas is poised behind the sunless background of his floor length windows, illuminated by the faint lights that shone in his living room. You’d focus on the drying art, on its colors, on its vague message, but you know, instinctually, that the message isn’t there. 

It’s right there in the reflection of his window. 

Jungkook is standing there alone, barren down to his manliness. Covering the base of his semi-hard length with a hint of decency, the largeness of his hand only conceals the fine hairs on his mound while the rest is naked to the eye. The glint, perpetuated and divulging his arousal, on the mushroom head of his manhood. The broadness of his chest, the slenderness of his waist, the tattooed sleeve that leads to the part of him that used to bring you so much pleasure. 

Your body betrays you; you clench around Hobi. 

You can feel his gaze upon your face, but it’s not scorching hot. It’s anything but. 

“Who is this person to you?” he asks, calmly, and you swallow with difficulty. The time has come for the truth; you can sense that it’s right, that it’s meant to be, but still you hesitate, try hard to find the bit of strength you have in order to use it to speak. But you discover that it’s all been used up, so you remain silent. Hobi calls you by your name, pressing on the matter, tiny stars of trust flashing in his eyes. “I’m not a boy, you can talk to me. You can tell me who this person is to you without me getting mad, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” 

It’s not that you’re fearful of his reaction—you just wish this never happened in the first place. You don’t want to deal with this, you don’t want to bring Jungkook into your relationship any more than he already is. But it’s inevitable. You can’t pause it. You can’t delay it. 

You can only face it. 

“He’s my ex,” you whisper, not trusting your own voice, worried that it’ll break and your tears will make an appearance. 

“I thought so, but I wanted to hear it from you. Good.” He licks his lips, eyes descending to your cherub before they fix on your mouth, pecking you. Your chest shudders with emotions. “When did you break up?” 

Your chin quivers. Inevitable. “Almost a month ago.” 

Hobi nods, thinking as he rubs his knuckles on your cheek. “Do you still love him?” 

A tear rolls down your cheek while silence echoes within your mind, body and soul. “I don’t know.” 

He cradles your face with both hands. “You squeezed around me when you looked at him. Got wetter. It’s okay. It’s too soon. I found you too soon.” 

You sob, loudly, uglily. Hobi shushes you, kissing your tears away. Pulls out of you and shifts onto his back, bringing you with him, so you can lie on his chest. Cocoons you in his arms, nose buried in your hair that he pets, breathing steadily while his heart tremors. You cling to him with all your might. Break and break while he keeps the shards of you whole, the sharp edges cutting his skin open. And you’re sorry, terribly, terribly sorry. You sink it into his chest, into his neck—kissing him there with your tears, your sobs and your hands that roam everywhere they can reach in the snugness that little by little find a way to help you voice it out. 

“I’m so sorry, Hobi. I’m so sorry.” 

He rubs your back. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

You disagree. Loathe your body for the way it sang for another man. “But I did. You felt what my body did. I’m so sorry.”

He even grew soft and pulled out of you. A dread courses down your treacherous body at a thought that seizes you—that in most probability this is the last time he showers you in the kindness of attention, that this is the last sun you’ll ever see for the rest of your life. 

Hobi brushes your hair back and gazes down at you, splitting your thoughts in two. “Look at me.” Rays of the heart-shaped sun paint streaks of rose gold in his pearlescent eyes. There must be all sources of light—you’ve never seen such stark luminosity. It pulls you in, tightens your attachment to him, encourages your private desire to be with him, stay with him, live life with him. You drift your fingertips along the softness of his skin on his chest that you’re resting upon, hear its hushed calling for you, but you fear it’s all in your mind. “Your body reacted the way it was supposed to. You spent some time with this person, loved him at some point and it just ended. Your body is still used to him and as much as it pains me, I understand it.” 

The shards in you crumble, staining his skin in crimson. Your fingers begin to itch to claw that accustomedness away, so you can be all new and pure for him. They tremble against his shoulder and like a kitty cat, Hobi rubs his cheek on it, soothing its tremor, soothing its ruination tendencies, and you let him, willfully, gladly. You want him to paint you so anew that you’d have to get to know yourself all over again, that you’d have to wade through heavy, murky waters in order to remember, faintly, your past love. 

You lost all respect for Jungkook—and, vividly, you sense the final conclusion to the chapter of your life with him. 

“I want you, Hobi. No one else,” you whisper, your tears dried upon your cheeks, on his chest, too. 

He lifts your chin. Looks at you for a time that seems centuries-long. “You want me?” 

You nod in his hand. “I want to spend my life with you. Is it also too soon to think that?” 

He laughs, softly, lips curled in a gentle smile. He swipes his thumb under your eyes, over your eyelashes, and he kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry. I said it because I want you all to myself. I also told you I don’t share, remember?” 

Yesterday in his car, when he wasn’t willing to kill the engine and fuck you in your silky dress and thigh-high boots because he didn’t want other people around to hear your sounds of pleasure. His smile reaches your mouth, rightfully, at the memory. You deem it belongs there. Deem these memories should be the only ones living in your mind. Those to come, too. Not the image of Jungkook’s bareness and the unknown canvas you didn’t even glance at. 

Now that you’ve descended to a state of calmness, you think about the matter of ‘soon’, portrayed by his words. You repeat them in your mind—“Too soon. I found you too soon.”—and admiration for him slinks into your heart, growing there into a bush of raspberries that you can strangely taste in your mouth. Every chamber of your weakened heart is perfumed by it the longer that sentence rings in your system. You’re touched by it, by his softness, by his lack of anger that would only be appropriate in this situation. And it means a lot to you, because all that you’ve ever known from the few men in your life, besides indifference, is anger. Your father, your first boyfriend, Jungkook. All of those men showed you that you’re deserving of the scalding, poisonous sting of anger due to your actions. 

Hobi isn’t like that. He regrets the time. His emotions shoot out into the realm, where your footfalls never made an imprint. 

Your sweetened body yearns to give back to him, but you don’t know how to do it in a way that isn’t lustful. 

You lift your torso, propping your forearms on his chest, breasts squished against him. Your hair falls around you, vivifying the beginning bloom of your arousal, the raspberries. And you blow them, against his lips, coaxing an endeared hum out of him. Hobi opens his mouth to speak, but you outrun him, needing to get something out of your chest. 

“Thank you for not being angry with me,” you say and the sunlight rises furthermore, gracing you with a picturesque aura that tightens the thankfulness, laced with the need to pleasure him, within you. “You’re not sharing me with anyone, and you never will. I’m yours and I want your kids. But I’m sorry that you regret it’s too soon. I’m sorry I’m not prepared enough for you. You don’t deserve this.” 

Hobi shakes his head, pressing his lips in a firm line, dimples etched above. You regard them as so beautiful that you trace them with your fingertip. He envelops his arms around you tighter, grasping the nape of your neck, drawing you in to kiss you. And the raspberries burst as he moves his mouth against you, priming your yearning to give back to him. 

A string of saliva keeps you bound to him as he withdraws and it propels you to kiss him again. He lets you, briefly, whimpers when you slip your tongue inside, and he forcefully pulls you away. Needs to say something—his eyes are full of that thumping urgency. 

“I could never be angry at you for something that isn’t your fault,” he breathes out, chest lifting rapidly as he pants, the urgency growing in size and you sense that he really wants you to know this. “And these kids?” He thrusts his hips against you and yours and his smile widens in unison—he’s pressed right against your naked mound and stomach, and the movement caused his balls to softly tap the round, fleshy edges of your bum. “They’re yours as soon as this settles, you hear me?” 

You coo, cradling his face, eyes narrowing in taut, tender emotion. And something of the same urgency spills out of you in similar fashion. “All night I imagined carrying your child. But I’ll start taking my birth control again until—”

“You don’t have to,” he disagrees, seriousness coating his tone, and your mouth parts. “As soon as this settles, you’re having my child, if that’s what you want as well.” 

The words—isn’t it too soon?—almost drips out of your agape mouth, but then your desire stops you. If it weren’t the time for it, would your desire for it still harmonize with your heart? 

Seeing your hesitancy, Hobi continues. “I have a house. A stable job. Money in my bank account. In savings. I’ve wanted a child for a long time and it got to the point that I had to physically stop myself from wanting it. And then I met you—and you wouldn’t stop tempting me with it.” He chuckles and you’re struck with speechlessness, your heart, your lungs swollen with a mania of affection, elation and passion. Merely your hands are able to talk—and you squeeze his cheeks, squishing them, prolonging his sound of joy, planting a flush across them. “You’re the person I was waiting for, pup. And the waiting is over. I have no reason to wait anymore, do I?” 

You kiss him and onto his lips you say: “You don’t.” 

He hums, deeply. Glides his hands down your spine to your bum, kneading it, and it’s instinctual—the way your hips begin to grind against the squishiness of him. In response, his lips latch onto your neck as his hands begin to guide your movement into a kingdom of vigorousness. Delightful pleasure anoints your body in rosy relief, exultation and in a rhapsody of excitement to see, to meet the new, upcoming face of your life. 

Hobi, the curse breaker. The enigma is revealed and your organs flutter, scurry to write a hymn for him. 

It’s what he absolutely, befittingly deserves. 

And more. 

You crawl back down until you straddle his knees, keeping your hands flat on his stomach as you take the softness of him into your mouth. You fail due to how lightweight he is, coaxing a giggle out of you and a determination to try harder to gratify your yearning to give back to him, and Hobi moans, pets your hair, the reverberations of his sighs stimulating your intimate parts. 

You swallow a little bit of him, pausing at his tip, your cheeks hollowed out. He sinks his fingers into your hair, body trembling underneath you, and it feels exhilarating. A question that needs to be voiced out springs in you, spurred from the subtle saltiness of his precum that you devour. 

“So, are you my boyfriend now?” 

Hobi grins, petting you as if you were a puppy—waggling your head as you toy with the tip of his cock, using your tongue, feeling him harden, little by little. “I’m your husband.” Your stomach flips, cheeks redden and Hobi laughs, gently. Your arousal drips down, unabashedly, down your inner thigh. He grabs your jaw, his length plopping out of your mouth. Another trickle of arousal follows the one that stained your flesh. “But yeah, I’m your boyfriend. You wanna mark down this day, pup?” 

You nod, speechless again, your mind a sultry, misty pool of lewdness and the image of your pregnant belly laps past your eyes, drenching you. “The day you stuff me full of your cum… as a boyfriend.”

Hobi rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath as your smile blossoms. He tugs you upwards until your pussy rests against his cock the way it did before, caging you in with one arm around your back while the other squeezes the fleshy part of your hip. 

“Grind your pussy on it, pup. Come on,” he orders and you listen, rolling your hips against his hardening manhood, your dripping essence making it an easy ride. Then, he kneads your ass cheek, descending to the back of your thigh and spanking it once, coaxing a high-pitched moan out of you that rapidly stiffens him. The sharp pain mingles with the pleasure rooting from your stimulated clit and you want more. 

You’d reach behind yourself and put him inside, if he hadn’t spanked your ass so hard that you cried out. 

“Fuck, Hobi.” 

Your eyes wet with pleasure-filled tears behind closed eyelids and when you open them, you catch the lopsided smile on Hobi’s face straightening into a narrow, firm line. Your heart quivers, the mist in your mind evaporates and you lift yourself onto your hands. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask, panic evident in your voice, but it seems as though he can’t hear you—his eyes are lost, unblinking, his being having strayed away to a dark corner of his mind.

It isn’t until you shake his cheek that he flicks his eyes up to yours. Wretchedness dims out their light and it might as well rip out your heart, with its raspberry fragrance and all. 

“The painting,” Hobi says and you furrow your brows, not sure what he means. 

“What painting?” 

He sits up, leaning his back against the pillowed headrest, licking his lips.  “In the picture he sent you,” he explains, his voice dull and low; your lungs constrict. Cold sweat prickles your spine and you can’t breathe. What did Jungkook paint on that canvas? “You didn’t look at the painting?” 

You’re ashamed to admit that you didn’t, so, breaking the eye contact, you shake your head ‘no’, your features drooping. Hobi takes your hands in his, his thumbs in the middle of your palms, and the gesture helps you reconnect the exchange of gazes. Pity floods the indistinct light and your lungs burn.

“He painted you. Bent over… his lap I guess. Your butt was red and it had his handprint.”

The fire of your lungs spreads to the rest of your body and you don’t hesitate before you grab your phone and dial Jungkook’s number. 

Don’t hesitate to burn him with the same fire. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan,

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist | READ part one | READ part two | READ part three

[studio-multi]

Thot #1 | NSFW

"No wonder Hobi has kept you to himself,” Yoongi’s fingers waste no time splitting your seal.

You pant at the contact, “please don’t talk about Hoseok while you’re fucking me.”

Yoongi lines himself up at your entrance, “why not? I fuck him too.”

With that he thrusts inside you, you bow in on yourself, hands clutching his forearms. Overwhelmed from the sensation and Yoongi's confession.

“What?” You breathe, staring wide eyed at Yoongi.

He rolls into you with languid flex of his hips a few times, tongue teasing the corner of his lips. Too lost in the feeling of you before he is able to respond. Yoongi folds over your body, forearms sliding under your shoulders.

“Hoseok and I fuck too,” He whispers in your ear, and your head kicks back into the pillow with a moan at the confirmation.

“Too bad we have never shared you.”

Yoongi ruts sharply into you, and you groan at the thought of Hoseok in your position with his pitchy moans, begging Yoongi for more.

🗝️note: sorry it’s late, I went back and forth with sharing this one for a couple of reasons.

1) I really love the wip it came from and would love to finish it because it’s so relatable to where I’m at in life.

2) it’s a smut scene and the first one I’m sharing in raw form over here, so that’s 😬

[cosmicaeons21]

Unfinished Tav Concept

[sopejinsunflower]

a/n: ok so this started out with a completely different idea but when idk, somewhere along the way the plot kinda left the chat and it just screams horny horny brain is horny so yeah…but I had this idea ever since Arson came out lol I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. It has been sitting in my WIP since December and I honestly didn't do much editing or proofreading >.<

Title: Was actually originally called Devil May Care 

Warning: 18+, violence implied, gun use, minor DNI

Summary: You are a very highly respectable business woman but your scene is less than…ideal. You need a new head of security but with a tight schedule, you have to hire someone with just the basic qualification. It’s all fine until you realise your new head of security is someone you’ve been masturbating to for most of your adult life. And to make things worse (or better), he knows you know. 

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x you, Park Jimin

Tags: Employer-employee AU! Penetrative sex, masturbation implied, violence mentioned, slight Hoseok dom because no way I’m NOT putting that in. 

Word count: 19k

You slam your bag onto the surface of your desk hard enough for the sound to jerk everyone upright, standing rigidly waiting for you to unleash your anger.

You raise your gaze, glaring daggers at the man standing across from you with his eyes downcast, hands clasped together in front of him. “Explain yourself,” you growl out in between gritted teeth. 

He only purses his lips, unable to come up with anything. He fucked up, he knows, and as your head of security, he knows he’s about to get the axe. You don’t repeat yourself, knowing full well what happened and how it had happened but you just wanted him to admit it and he can’t even do that. Your instructions had been simple, and yet it had seemed to be a tall order for someone with twenty-five years under the belt as a security guard to high risk VIPs such as yourself; working in the diamond industry comes with its perks. 

He had one job: protect you. When you are closing in on deals, most times the merchandise is already with you, hidden in secretly-sewn pockets to be retrieved once everything is signed and the payment method is handed over and checked. Payment method, because people don’t usually pay with cash, especially those black organisations that insist on meeting in dark dingy rooms or empty parking lots. And you can never trust them fully to not fuck you over during those meetings so his job was to make sure that there are no unpleasant surprises beforehand and if it does happen, get you out of there safely. 

But here you are, standing in your office, half the guards smelling like gunsmokes, three of them currently being tended to by your private doctor for bullet wounds and there’s a thin, light scratch over your forehead and your shoulders are starting to ache from having to fire your own Glock while running. The situation had been far from safe and it all fell onto his shoulders. You check your reflection in the cabinet glass, huff and turn around. “Get the fuck out of my face. You’re fired.”

He gives you one last bow and walks out of the room, hands clenched in fists. You’re not an easy employer, even you know that, but you are fair and pay people five times the market rate, more than fair for the kind of environment they have to work in. But those high wages don’t come easy; you have strict criterias and requirements for both the roles and the responsibilities they carry. You’re not irrational but you have to maintain the highest vigilance not just for your sake, but for everyone involved. When you need job A to be done in a certain way, it must be followed to the T. Or things like this happen.

You heave a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Without looking, you wave your hand to dismiss the other guards and plop yourself in your reclining leather chair, feeling a thousand pounds heavier than you did in the morning. To be completely honest, you had been having the same nagging feeling for a week now, leading to that meeting with the Ryuukai, the Dragon Organisation, but, then again, you always feel weird during the days prior to a black market deal. If only you’d listened more to your gut feeling, but hindsight is always fifty-fifty. 

First thing’s first: you need a new head of security. 

You rub at your face, sigh again, and call for your executive secretary. Park Jimin swishes in through the door not three seconds later and you look up in surprise. He’s holding a glass of water and an ibuprofen for the headache that’s starting up, his usual notebook clamped in his armpit. “How long were you waiting outside the door?” you ask, taking the glass and painkiller gratefully. 

“Just right after Hank walked out,” he answers airily, sitting down in one of the velvet chairs across from you, crossing his legs and taking out his pen and notebook. 

Jimin is in a three-piece suit but without the jacket and his sleeves rolled up. Honestly, he dresses like a boss himself instead of a secretary but working with you means he’s technically in charge of the whole office. His nickname is God’s Messenger because when he delivers your orders or instructions, the others obey without a word. He’s more of a right-hand-man, too, by how much you rely on him when you’re not in. 

You place the pill at the back of your tongue and take huge gulps of the water to swallow it, almost finishing the whole tall glass. You sigh, sitting back, eyes still closed. “Why does it seem like you’re the only one who knows to do your job well? It’s so hard to find reliable employees these days.”

Jimin preens in his chair, sitting up straighter. “Well, first, I don’t seem to do my job well, I do my job well. Second, stop sighing like an old woman. Third, I don’t have any response regarding reliable employees but I’m assuming we’ll need to hire a new one?”

You nod, sitting up and letting out another long, heavy sigh much to Jimin’s annoyance. “Do you think you can find someone in two weeks?”

“You’re getting more and more demanding,” he says nonchalantly, writing down something in his notebook. “Two weeks, got it. Shall I put ‘psychic’ as the requirement?” At the confused look from you, he adds, waving the pen around, “Oh, you know, so he’s able to tell if a situation could go bad. Like Hank couldn’t.”

Your face immediately turns sour. “A thorough investigation would have been enough to avoid that whole mess,” you hiss, clenching the edge of the desk. “I almost lost men out there!”

Jimin suppresses from rolling his eyes. “Right, right. So someone thorough, got it. Two weeks won’t be enough time to find someone of your high standards. Are you sure you don’t want to postpone that deal with the Sumiyoshi?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “This meeting has been scheduled for months now. I can’t mess this up. They’re already pissed about the last botched merch from last time. And I’m still pissed about that.”

Jimin scoffs in between his writing. “Don’t worry. The guy is still paying for his mistakes until today in some basement out there. You made sure of that. I don’t know if we can find quality and reliable candidates in this short time but I’ll dig around. No promises, though.”

“Update me again in a week,” you tell him as he’s leaving your office. 

He pauses in the doorway, leaning back to look at you. A genuine look of concern is clear on his face. “Go home and rest. You look like shit. I’ll handle things here.”

You give him an appreciative smile and pack up your things, wanting nothing more than a long warm bath and pulling your fluffy duvet over you so you can curl up and sleep in your empty king bed. You get home, get undressed and strut around naked in your apartment. You start to fill up the bath and while the water is going, you head for a glass of white wine in the kitchen, something to calm your nerves. It didn’t help much. 

The bath beeps and you head to the bathroom, throw in your favourite bath bomb and watch it fizzle as you take a quick shower to rinse off; you hate the idea of sitting in your own filth. Then you step in and have about a fifteen-minute soak. The warm water helps soothe your aching muscles and your left hand, the one you use to shoot your gun, finally stops shaking. You add another bath bomb to the water but when you step out, you can still smell the gunpowder. You take a second shower and spend extra time rubbing your body with a loofah and washing your hair.

Satisfied that there’s no more smell, you pull on a comfortable satin slip, dry your hair and dive into bed. The thick, black-out curtains have been pulled shut and you’re hoping to take a nap but no matter how long you lie there, you keep blinking up at the ceiling, replaying today’s shitshow over and over again. 

It’s not your first shoot-out, of course, but it doesn’t make it any less scary each time. The Ryuukai is known to be difficult but you’ve done deals with them in the past before and they have all gone smoothly enough. This time though, you learnt that there had been a shift in the organisation and there were new faces, even the middleman was someone you’ve never met before and not the person you talked to a month prior to setting up the meeting. Everything had felt fishy and shadier than usual and you wish you had followed your gut. 

Your entourage had been ambushed. The Ryuukai had attempted to get their hands on the diamonds by force and your whole team had walked straight into a trap. When it was obvious they couldn’t find where the merchandise was, they chose violence. To be fair, Jimin was right; Hank couldn’t have known how that would turn out but there’s a reason one of his main responsibilities is to stake out and investigate every little detail ahead of the meeting. It’s to avoid things like this from happening because it has happened in the past. These measures aren’t put there for fun; they’re implemented so that every one of your men gets to go home to their families at the end of the day. 

And three of them almost didn’t. Lawyers have been dispatched to deal with the families regarding the situation but you can’t help but feel it was avoidable. Hank had been with you for five years with no problems but lately his head has been out of the game. You’re not privy to his personal lives, literally not your concern, but the one thing you ask of your employees is that they don’t bring home matters to work. If Hank had been going through some tough shit outside of work, then he never communicated it. You’re not a monster; you would’ve taken him off of work without him losing his job or income if he had needed time to sort things out first.

You sigh and hear your secretary's voice in your ear about being an old woman. You roll your eyes to the ceiling. Your phone pings and you check the message.

Jimin: The families have signed the NDAs. It’s on your desk. 

PING!

Jimin: Stop staring at the ceiling and sleep.

What the fuck?! Does he have a spy camera or something? You sit up in bed, paranoid, looking around the room. 

PING!

Jimin: No, there’s no camera. I just know you too well (rolling eyes emoji)

You slap the phone face down on the bedside table after putting it on silent mode and pull the duvet back over your head. Nothing’s more frustrating than someone who is always right and knows it, too. One of these days you’ll find a nicer more submissive PA but you doubt it. He’s too damn good at his job for you to find any good reason to get rid of him. 

BUZZ!

You groan out loud but grab the phone anyway.

Jimin: I had a food delivery schedule for around 7PM. I don’t think cooking will be on your to-do list today.

Too damn good, you think with a snort, putting away the phone for the last time because by hook or by crook, you’ll force that nap to come. Fifteen minutes later, after much tossing and turning, sleep still eludes you like a fish flitting through water. You’re still somehow high-strung, your brain refusing to forget today’s botched deal as it replays each scene for you to do a play-by-play; from the moment you notice the shiftiness of the Ryuukai’s men, the fact that you don’t recognise any of them, right down to the last moment of the shoot-out, you running, gunshots ringing in your ears until you’re safely in the car and Hank slammed the door behind you. 

Then you remember something; your little emergency stash under the bed made especially for times like this. You crawl over to the edge, lean halfway off the bed and rummage around under there trying to pull out the little box. It feels a little childish to be hiding stuff in that old tin box, something you’ve had with you for a very long time, even now when you’re one of the most powerful figures of the underworld living in one of the luxurious penthouses in the middle of the city. 

You pry open the lid and sift through the stuff in there. If anyone found that box, one would think it belongs to a teenage girl by the content: an old bookmark handmade from a laminated maple leaf, 16th and 21st birthday cards from old friends and families, a beaded bracelet, a few foreign coins, a few loose buttons, a few Polaroid photos faded with time. You ignore all the rest and pull out from the bottom an old and very well-used folded up poster. You put everything away and lay back on your pillow, carefully unfolding the piece of A3 paper. 

    Immediately you can feel the tension slip off of your shoulders at the sight of your favourite man in the world: Hoya, in all of his glorious nakedness besides the silver necklaces around his neck, the black masquerade mask that hides half of his face, and the little detective hat that he’s tipping over with that petulant smirk on his handsome face that screams, “Bet you wish you can have me, don’t you?” 

Yes, yes I do, you think, this time with a wistful sigh, your eyes roaming his body, imagining you can put your hands all over those biceps and rock-hard abs and kiss that Celtic hope tattoo on his chest, suck on his fingers and suckle on his nipples before…your eyes move downwards, saving that view for last even if you’ve seen it a thousand times. It works every time like a charm.

You lie back onto your pillow, the poster in hand. This is from one of his earlier issues from a few years back and by far your favourite, thus why it’s stored in your mental emergency box. You know a few things about this man; his age (three years younger than you), his favourite food (Korean), his favourite alcohol (soju and he drinks it only once a week), his favourite book (Living, Loving, Learning), his favourite song (it changes every three months), what he wanted to be as a child, what he wants now as an adult, his preferred type of woman (demure, sweet and kind but loves it spicy in the bedroom), and his hobby. 

You know his favourite position in bed, his kinks (D&M, bondage), his favourite subject in school (maths, surprisingly) and even the name of his first pet (Mickey). You know why he has that scar on his left eyebrow (at a judo tournament in high school when the opponent split his head but he won the competition anyway), the neighbourhood he grew up in and that he has an older sister who he’s close with. You know that he visits his parents every other weekend to have dinner with them because he prioritises family time. You know that he hates sleeping in the dark because of that one time a friend played a prank by locking him up in the closet and forgot about him, so he sleeps with a nightlight the shape of a crescent moon. You also know his birth zodiac but that he doesn’t believe in fate. 

You know all this information about this man that graces the monthly adult magazine you subscribe to since university and yet you don’t know his real name nor what he actually looks like. All of his posters and photos were masked. Someone in your position could easily have attained his real name at least but you decide not to. The mystery of it all kind of enhances his charm, you think, but fuck, if only you could, at least once in your life, to be able to wrap your mouth around that perfect cock of his. 

“You think you deserve this, baby?” the Hoya in your head asks as he looms over you, one hand leaning against the headboard above your head. He swings his hips close to your face, teasing you with his giant cock inches from your lips. 

“Yesss,” you mewl back, batting your eyelashes prettily for him. “Please.”

“Please what, sugar?”

You writhe under your blanket, your fingers quickly finding the wet spot in between your legs, eyes closed as you imagine the scene. “Please, daddy. I want it.”

And in your fantasies, Hoya always does. He always satisfies you, prioritising your needs as he winds you up and up and up and letting you come crashing down on your highs. He teases and taunts you, worships you like the goddess that you are and you’d scream his name over and over again as he rams into you until you’re all spent and blissful and he’d love you up more softly this time, rocking you both gently until he comes. Those scenes were enough ammo for your fingers to work furiously underneath the thick duvet, arching your back against your pillow, murmuring words you pretend the adult model can hear until you come, toes curling and sighing out his stage name. 

Then the guilt comes creeping in and you jump out of bed to clean yourself, chastising yourself that it’s just distasteful for someone like you to get so lost in your own head when your team was almost annihilated today. You bury yourself back in bed and this time, sleep comes much easier. 

***

“So…about the new head of security…”

Jimin follows you into your office and watches you straighten out your desk before you finally look up at him. “I don’t think we’ll find anyone in two weeks. I’m serious about postponing it because at this rate we’ll-”

“No.” You cut him short, plopping down into your seat and powering on the iMac. “The meeting with the Sumiyoshi is too important, Jimin, you know this. I can’t risk losing another business because we are not dealing with the Ryuukais anymore after last night.” 

Jimin clicks his fingers. “Oh, right! I’ve sent a team as you requested to their headquarters. You’ll hear about it at around…” he checks his watch casually, “noon, perhaps.”

You nod but the look on your face was clear to Jimin that you barely listened, clicking away on your computer, eyebrows furrowing. Jimin sighs. “Hey, look at me.”

You stop what you were doing and shift your gaze to him without turning your head. He scowls but says, “I’m serious about recruiting a head of security this willy-nilly. We’re talking about the head here, not some disposable goons. He’ll be responsible for your safety. You know, keeping you alive in situations similar to last night?”

You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. “Get to the point, Jimin.”

“I refuse to hire just anyone,” he says with a serious look on his face. “I won’t do it and risk you getting shot dead. It took us months to hire and train Hank and you want me to find someone to fill the role in two weeks? That’s not just crazy; that’s stupid.”

You grit your teeth, fingers flexing and unflexing. Anyone else who would speak to you like that would not still be standing as sturdily as Jimin is in that moment, holding his own almost like he’s the boss reprimanding you. But to your credit, you sit there in silence; one of Jimin’s many skills is to make you listen and you trust him enough to do so without protest. 

“Fine, then,” you concede, although your tone of voice is still very forceful. “We’ll hire a temporary one, then, if that makes you feel better. Someone good enough for the meeting in two weeks. Someone who won’t need much training but has enough experience to handle something like that.”

“Something like what? A meeting between two underground groups to exchange illegal material for cases of cash?” Jimin writes something in his notebook, arching an eyebrow as he speaks. “Noted. I have doubts but I’ll keep my eyes peeled and in the meantime find someone long term.”

He gives you a condescending smirk and waltzes right out. Just as you thought you were finished dealing with him, he pops his head back in. “Gang things may not sound appealing. Shall I fish them with a higher salary?”

“Do whatever you need to, Jimin,” you reply impatiently, waving your hand at him. “Just go away.”

“Neatto,” he chimes, disappearing again. 

Around noon, as Jimin predicted, the front page of most major online newspapers are covering the same story: “Mass murder, arson; the dragon has fallen”. Fancy news title to report on the demise of a mafia group but it is what it is. The shootout at the parking garage, however, wasn’t even mentioned anywhere. You don’t even bother reading the rest of it, clicking away to focus on other more important things, like the arrival of the goods for the Sumiyoshi next week. Customs a bitch to deal with but you have your strings to pull.

You don’t hear from Jimin the rest of the day and that’s fine. It means that work is progressing smoothly and your only hope is for him to find candidates for the open position. You consider rehiring Hank but that would bruise your ego so you squash the idea. For now. If the Ryuukais were bad, the Sumiyoshi would be even worse and a head of security would give the peace of mind you’d need and also a sort of deterrent as well for any fuckery they planned. 

You can’t trust those men and the moment they think they see an opening, they’d take it. They can’t stand having to bow to a woman but you rule the diamond business in this part of the world and they have no other reasonable choices. You are known to be fair and trustworthy, an empire you took years to build, carving in your name after you took over from your grandfather. You’re more of a businesswoman than a gang leader but taking over the business meant you had to take over every aspect of it; the good, the bad and the shady illegal shit that you only discovered after signing the handover agreement. 

You rub your eyes with your fingertips. You rarely feel sorry for yourself. Why should you? You live in a luxurious apartment that has 24-hour heavy security, you have a driver most times, your status gives you a free pass almost always, money is just a means of transaction that you’ve never hesitated to blow off if you needed to, and power over all the right people. Your business is as clean as you can keep it, you don’t have blood on your hands. Some deals are a little under the table, yes, but nowhere near the same category as the groups and gangs you deal with. You are, technically, legitimate. So why do you feel so shackled? 

People your age are married with kids these days, happy as they lived their lives like any normal person would. See, you want kids. Someday. But your life doesn’t have any space for even a lover. They are a hindrance, a bargaining chip that can easily be used against you. And they’re rarely ever loyal, not when to die for love’ could be literal in your world. No one actually means it when they say it. 

Then, like always when you think about the topic, Hoya’s face floats in front of your eyes; that cheeky glint in his eyes behind the mask, the parted lips with his tongue just slightly sticking out, enough for you to imagine things with it and the long, slender fingers that you’ve fantasise about doing more than just sticking them in your mouth. You shake your head to clear away the dirty thoughts creeping in. No, I’m at work! You slap your cheeks a few times and return back to the computer screen.

It’s not until the end of the week when Jimin informs you, with an unamused look on his face, that so far there were only three applicants and one of them is totally a reject because the guy is fresh out of college looking for a lucrative part time job before he leaves for Australia. 

“So that leaves us with two,” Jimin is saying, the iPad completely hiding his face from where you sit. “I’ve talked to them both. One has a military background. A captain in Iraq. Came back and currently working as a mall night security guard. Has PTSD so can’t commit to a nine to five. Looks promising but he has teenage kids and a dead wife.”

“And the other one?”

Jimin shakes his head. “I don’t really like this one.”

“Why not?” You frown, curious.

Jimin sighs. “Well, for one, the only good thing going for him is that he has multiple martial arts skills - judo, taekwondo, karate. This guy needs a new hobby.”

“So what’s wrong about him? Those are useful in this industry,” you say, sitting back in your chair and swinging it from side to side. 

“What’s wrong about him is that he’s in his mid-twenties but no full time job to account for,” Jimin answers as he scrolls through the man’s resume. “He graduated in economics, worked part time at a bar for a few months and then nothing. Said he does small freelance gigs here and there but won’t say what. I don’t like him.”

You laugh. “Pretty sure you can run a background check on him easily.”

“I know but it’s suspicious. I don’t like someone who I can’t read,” Jimin retorts. “I say go with the vet and then after the meeting we’ll reassess if we’d want to keep him. I’ll keep the job posting up in case we’d get better candidates.”

You mull over the information Jimin has provided you. The military vet does seem to be the obvious choice; he has experience and skills a head security needs but the fact that he’s the only thing standing in between whether his kids will grow up with one parent or end up in foster care makes everything a tad bit harder. That, or the fact that his kids could also be used as leverage by the enemies. Not a pretty thought but, again, it has happened. 

On the other hand, Jimin is correct about the martial arts guy. A person who has something to hide could be detrimental to you and the company. He has a good education but no job worth of note. Now, in the normal world, it would be understandable that not everyone is lucky enough but in your life, it’s a red flag. Your enemies are always finding ways to get close to you and you can’t risk being negligent now.

But you’re running out of time. 

You nod your head and turn to your secretary. “Alright, then. Give it to the vet. Have him report in on Monday morning.”

Jimin beams. “Consider it done.”

On Monday morning, you walk into the office and are met with a sour-faced Jimin talking heatedly on the phone in the corner of the pantry area. When he sees you, he ends the call and strides over. “He’s not coming,” he huffs.

“Who’s not coming?”

“The vet guy,” he explains bitterly. “Apparently his friend got him a job on the weekend and he felt better to go with the other option.”

“And you told him off on the phone?” You arched an eyebrow at him, incredulous.

Jimin looks confused. “What? No, that wasn’t him. That was the recruiter.” He rolls his eyes and you have the urge to call him an old man but don’t. “Anyway,” he sighs, “I’ve asked the other candidate to come in at ten for a “final” interview.” Jimin makes air quotes with his fingers. “Figured we can talk to him and then see how it goes.”

You stare at the clock. “That’s in thirty minutes.”

Jimin curses, checking his watch. “Fuck!”

“Are you okay? You seem out of sorts today,” you ask, walking over to the coffee machine. 

“Are you serious right now?”

You look at him, the coffee machine whirring in the background. “What?”

“Didn’t you see the email I sent you last night?”

“No. Why?”

Jimin looks a little pale. “It’s on your desk,” he says dryly, raising his phone to his ears. “I’ll just go and make sure the guy comes in today.” He walks out of the pantry talking on the phone, his voice harsh and cold to whoever he’s speaking to. You carry your coffee mug into your office and make a straight beeline to the single sheet of paper placed in the middle of it. You pick it up and read through Jimin’s cursive handwriting. 

“Sonofabitch!”

***

Jung Hoseok walks into the huge office feeling only slightly intimidated by the large windows and the fact that he was literally three hundred metres above ground. He involuntarily shivers. 

“Hi,” he says as he approaches the man dressed in a three-piece suit. The man looks up and smiles and Hoseok is immediately taken aback by how pretty he looks. He clears his throat and continues, “I’m here for the interview.”

“Jung Hoseok?” Jimin asks, though already knowing the answer. He looks the tall man up and down, dressed in a full suit minus a tie; a little odd considering this is an interview.  

Hoseok nods. He notices the other man staring at his bare collar and consciously tug at it. “I forgot it. Hope it won’t affect the interview,” Hoseok mumbles, not meaning any word of it. He hates ties, plain and simple.

Jimin stands up and offers his hand. “No worries. We’re not that conventional. I’m Park Jimin, the secretary.” He notices how Hoseok’s eyes grow infinitesimally wider at that but continues, “Please have a seat while I let the boss know you’re here. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

“No problem. I was in the neighbourhood,” Hoseok replies as he follows Jimin to a lounge chair outside a set of oak double doors. Another lie. He just needed the job and would think about the multiple traffic rules he broke on the way over later. Hoseok watches as the secretary disappears behind the double doors as he sits down. He strains his ear to hear beyond it but no sound comes through.

Hoseok takes this time to compose his thoughts, running through his head the things that he thinks would be good to say. A temporary head of security position and with his lack of experience, he’s very surprised (and very suspicious) that he even got a callback, never mind a final face-to-face interview directly with the boss. Judging by the place and the very vague ad, he has an idea what sort of man he’d have to keep safe; old, filthy rich with probably illegal money, and most possibly a narcissist. All the top dogs are usually one, especially when their office is this fucking high up in the sky. Why can’t it be something more grounded, for fuck’s sake?

Never mind, he just needs the money. All he has to do is smile and agree to everything the old geezer says and tells him to do. It’s temporary anyway. No biggie.

The oak door opens and Jimin steps out. He gestures to the door. “The boss is ready for you. Go on in.” 

Hoseok stands up and takes a few deep breaths. Jimin eyes him, not even hiding the fact that he’s watching the taller man with as much interest as a lion has its prey. The small smile on the secretary’s face is starting to grate Hoseok the wrong way but he straightens himself up and walks past him and into the room without another look. 

Jimin waltzes back to his desk, whistling. “Whew, I do sure hope he aces the interview,” he whispers to himself. 

Inside, Hoseok is looking around the massive room. Everything about it screams old, rich man smoking cigars his whole life; the dark mahogany desk, the shelves of thick books on economics, world history, business, diamonds and a few others that looked to be in Italian and Japanese, the bare mantelpiece with a couple of plagues to certify that the business is legit. No ashtray, though. The office has a warm brown tone, calming but, again, confirms his earlier assumptions. On the bright side, it also means that the money promised on the ad is something he can expect if he gets the job, an amount that would definitely give him the life that he so desperately wants. 

The office is empty and it takes him a while to register the water running in a connecting restroom. He stands in front of the desk, hands clasped in front of him, and waits patiently. He has to give a good impression. This job will be his one ticket to freedom.

The restroom door opens and he turns around, expecting an elderly man with an extended stomach to waddle out. At the sight of you, in a light grey suit with an open top white blouse underneath, Hoseok stumbles backward, hitting one of the chairs behind him, making it scrape back noisily. 

“Sorry for the wait,” you say, walking to the other side of the desk. “I just needed to freshen up. Hectic morning. Please, have a seat.”

Hoseok looks around the room again, waiting for someone else to come in. You watch him, a small sarcastic smile on your lips. “Are you looking for someone?”

Hoseok looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought-” 

His eyes fall on the nameplate in front of him with the title Chief Executive Officer above your name. He looks at you then down at the nameplate and then back at you. You sit back in your chair, watching, amused. “You thought a woman can’t be the boss?”

There’s no contrition on Hoseok’s face, no embarrassment of sorts for having had that sexist thought right in front of a prospective employer. He just looked genuinely confused and then he shrugs, sitting down. “I just had a different idea initially,” he finally says, unbuttoning his suit jacket and crossing his legs at the knee. Five seconds later, he uncrosses it and sits up straighter.

“You’re not used to this, are you?” you ask, tilting your head, observing him. 

Hoseok doesn’t answer, his face remaining passive. 

You lean your elbows on the desk, steepling your fingers together. “Tell me, what sort of jobs have you had before,” you glance at the resume in front of you, “Jung Hoseok?”

“Different things,” he says casually. “A little bit of this and that.”

You eye him. A small part of you is annoyed by his rudeness but a bigger part of you is actually curious, dying to know what a handsome man like him does for a living that he’s not comfortable in this formal setting. You notice his slender, pretty fingers lightly drumming against his knee while the other hand rests against his cheek, looking at you like he’s the one conducting the interview instead. It’s somewhat angering and yet oddly amusing, like you wanted to see more of this devil-may-care behaviour of his. 

“I need specifics, Mr Jung,” you say. “I can’t hire someone I don’t know anything about and your resume,” you lift it up, “is pretty much empty. I don’t know what impression you got of our company but I can assure you I have high standards.”

He looks pointedly at you. “Then why did you request me to come in?”

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “Well, touché,” you laugh lightly, sitting back again. “To be honest, I was attracted by your martial art skills and I’m impressed. I think it will be useful for this position.”

Hoseok slides lower in his seat and spreads his legs in the typical way a man sits. He leans an elbow against the arm of the chair, resting his head lightly on three fingers. Suddenly, you lost your train of thoughts. Something about the way he sits, down to the tapping forefinger against the side of his temple, seems familiar. The set jaws, the serious lips and the tinge of iciness in his eyes; all seem to be ringing a bell in the back of your mind. Especially the eyes. Where have you seen it before?

“If it’s only the martial arts, then you won’t need to know my work history,” he says, his tone of voice cool and even with a touch of airiness that makes you think you’re beneath him. “But if you must know, I work part time as a judo instructor at a gym near my place.”

You glance at the piece of paper in your hand. It’s the only information available there and it doesn’t answer your question. You glare at him but he continues to speak. “Other than that I just do a bit of odd jobs here and there. I didn’t think it would be relevant nor make a good impression so I just left them out.” 

“What kind of odd jobs?” you push, narrowing your eyes. 

He returns your look coolly and takes five whole seconds before answering. “A bit of bartending, a bit of labour work. Different things like that.”

Outside, Jimin is pouring over the short email he had just received. The background check on Jung Hoseok doesn’t yield much information either, only that he was recruited into a hospitality agency and currently still is an employee there. Jimin Googled the agency but all that comes out is that it’s an outsourcing company, supplying workers to a variety of clients ranging from construction companies to restaurants and bars. He guesses the man wasn’t lying after all. He calls up the agency and speaks to an admin, taking out his pen to jot down in his trusty notebook.

In the office, you check Hoseok’s resume again. “It says here you went to college and graduated with a degree in economics. You’ve been part-timing since then?”

*Yes,” he answers curtly. 

“Is there any particular reason for that?”

“The economy is shit these days,” he mutters out. “Look,” he sits up straighter, getting honestly tired of this whole thing, “I’m not here to bullshit with you. I need the money. If you think my martial arts skill will be good for the position, then hire me. If not, let me know so I can get to the next interview.”

You sit there, mouth agape at his audacity. “You’re the one who needs the job, you know,” you retort back, getting angry. “Would it kill you to at least pretend to be nice?”

Hoseok sighs, scratching the side of his head. “Would that make it easier for you?”

“Yes!” You give him an incredulous look but also surprised at yourself for actually answering him. What the hell is wrong with him? “What’s your problem, man?”

Now it’s his turn to look a little shocked, raising his eyebrows at you. Collecting himself, he stands up. “Look, this is a temporary position, right? Just until the end of this week? I’ll lay it out for you: I’m good at kicking ass and I know how to handle a firearm.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I served in the military for eighteen months.”

You scan the resume again. “Then why the hell didn’t you put it here?”

He rolls his eyes. “Because I’m Korean and it’s just a mandatory requirement. It wouldn’t have mattered here.”

“What? Of course it matters! Especially in the job position you’re applying for!” You’re standing up, too, absolutely frustrated with him. “Why did you even bother coming in if this is the attitude you’re giving?”

“Because I needed the job,” he shrugs, answering. 

“That’s a rhetorical question!”

He frowns at you as if you’re the one not making any sense. He puts a fist against his hip, looking like he’s ready to walk out the door, and asks, “Do you want me or not?”

Un-fucking-believable. Never in your life have you ever met someone so audacious, so frustrating, so full of himself, and you deal with drug lords and gang leaders and mafias and all sorts of the lowest of lows and yet here you are, amazed by this one man’s ability to rile you up. None of those groups of people that you do business with, shady or not, have ever spoken to you the way he did, with no regards of the consequences whatsoever, and they rule the underworld with iron fists. Even they have respect for you!

Hoseok watches you fluster, your face turning red, your eyes glazing over with what looks like tears, your fists clenching and unclenching as your mouth works to form words. Watching you like that, something tweaks at his heart and he feels just a tad bit guilty. He sighs and throws his gaze out the huge window overlooking the city. 

Hoseok is not one to feel sorry for anybody because he grew up with no one feeling sorry for him. That part of him never wired right so for him to actually feel a little sympathy for you is new and honestly, he’s not all too sure what to do about it. He shifts his gaze back to you. “Does the position mean I have to answer to you?”

You grit your teeth. “Yes.”

“Do I have a say in any decisions?”

You think before answering through a strained voice, “Yes, if it’s pertaining to my safety. You can make the call.”

Hoseok looks around the room as if looking for some hints of what the job might actually entail. He notices the many books on diamonds and rocks but other than that, there’s nothing. “Do I have to kill people?” he asks.

You hesitate, shuffling from one foot to the other. You square your shoulders and answer, “Only if and when it’s necessary.”

Hoseok nods quietly to himself, looking down to the plush carpet under his feet as if he’s weighing the pros and cons of it all. He looks up again and his face is more determined. “Do I have to wear a stupid suit?”

You almost laugh but stifle it, schooling your face to look impassive. “Haven’t you seen bodyguards before?” When he doesn’t answer but just stares back at you unfazed, you add, “Never mind. I do expect some sort of professionalism and cleanliness, though. What you have on now is fine.”

“I’m not going to wear any damn ties,” he snaps and it’s your turn to roll your eyes. 

“Whatever. You start tomorrow.”

You call for Jimin to come in with the employment contract and five minutes later, Jung Hoseok is signing the papers without even looking past the salary offered. He doesn’t even ask about the NDA paperworks nor does he even ask about the one-page loyalty pledge that would have him sign away every right he has over his own life, assets and name should he ever risk, betray, or act insubordinate in any way that could cost your life or the company’s. You and Jimin exchange glances a few times, the regret starting to sink in in the pit of your stomach but you remain quiet throughout the ordeal.

When Hoseok finally left, Jimin stormed straight into your office and raised both arms into the air. “What the fuck was that?” 

You’re pinching the bridge of your nose. “No idea. Don’t ask. I feel like I’ve just been bullied into hiring someone and I’m already regretting the decision.”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you. “Well, good thing it’s only temporary because girl, you’re honestly losing it.”

“Did you find anything on him?” you ask through a scowl.

Jimin pouts. “Apart from him being a tall glass of water I would definitely slurp empty, nope. Nada. He’s listed on one of those agencies that outsource workers, that’s about it.”

“Explains the odd jobs,” you mumble. “Find me an actual, qualified person with experience this time, Jimin. We’re getting rid of him after the meeting. Fuck!” You let out a loud frustrated sigh. “I can’t fucking believe they move the meeting to this Friday, fucking bastards.”

*~*

Hoseok comes in pretty early the next day, the same time as Jimin walks out of the elevator and sees him in the pantry, a cup of iced coffee in one hand, scowling at something in the direction of the window. 

“Morning,” chirps Jimin cheerily, joining the new hire. He’s in a dark pair of jeans, Chelsea boots, and a dark crisp shirt under his unbuttoned suit jacket. Jimin can clearly see the top of Hoseok’s chest by how many buttons he disregarded; not professional but not something Jimin is going to complain about, especially when he can sneak a peek at the hint of a tattoo there on the left side. 

Hoseok doesn’t respond to Jimin but only mildly nods his way. He finally turns away from the window but his eyebrows are still furrowed. “When does she usually come in?”

Jimin glances at the clock. “Around this time. She’ll be here soon and it’s My Lady to you, newbie.”

“You call her that?” Hoseok asks, stirring his coffee with his straw.

Jimin snorts. “The others do. I don’t but we have a long history. You, on the other hand, should know your place.”

“Who should know whose place?” you ask, walking into the pantry. 

Jimin hands you your steaming cup of coffee and walks out, saying from over his shoulder, “Ask the newbie.”

You raise your eyebrows at Hoseok but the man just shrugs and walks out after the secretary, leaving you standing there completely clueless. Honestly, you might as well just do a whole reorg because what the hell is with this attitude? You’re their boss!

***

Hoseok spent his first day in hours of briefing with you, Jimin and another person simply referred to as ‘The Coordinator’, who talked mostly about the people or businesses they deal with and honestly, Hoseok barely listened.

Once the one-day onboarding process was finished, the only thing Hoseok fully understood was the reason why the salary was so high it was ridiculous. And also why you needed a head of security. He’s basically a personal bodyguard that has his own team of seven to direct and manage. His one and only job is to stick close to you like gum and make sure you remain alive for the length of his contract period, which isn’t all that long considering he’s mainly hired for the big meeting on Friday, three days away. Easy. 

Now, Hoseok might not have listened to any of the lectures he was subjected to but he had been highly attuned to you, reading your body language and facial expression, mainly because he was curious as to why a woman like you is in a business like this. Whatever this big meeting is on Friday, it’s so important to you that you barely sat still. He understood the desperation of hiring him for only four days in total just by the way you chew on your lips and shake your knees as Jimin and the The Coordinator explained to him all about what’s supposed to go down with this big, bad group called, the Sumiyoshi. 

At the end of the day, while Hoseok retreats to the restroom, you and Jimin convene together to talk about, well, about him.

“I still don’t like him but hot damn he’s a whole meal,” Jimin says as he leans closer to your face to make sure no other ears are listening. “I say we just keep him on as a pseudo bodyguard after the meeting. I’d appreciate eye candy at the office.”

You nudge him with your elbow hard enough he tilts sideways. “First of all, that’ll be sexual harassment of lusting over your coworker. Second of all, I completely agree with you. Although…” 

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Although what?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shaking your head. “Just feel like I’ve seen him from somewhere before. There’s something about those eyes.”

Jimin snorts. “You mean those mean looking eyes that could undress you with one look?”

You swat at his arm and Jimin laughs. “Admit it. You feel it, too. Like he’s judging everybody.” He exaggerates a shiver and then one look at your crimson cheeks he gasps. “Wait a minute, I didn’t mean that kind of undressing, you dirty girl!”

Hoseok walks in with a glum look on his face and frowns at the two of you laughing together. For some reason, it irks him to see Jimin’s hand casually over yours and you leaning into his side. You both straighten up at the sight of him. 

“What happened?” you ask, spotting his wet shirt. 

“The sink attacked me,” he replies solemnly, heading over to grab some paper towels from the pantry. You and Jimin look at each other before you follow Hoseok out and Jimin goes back to his desk. 

“I’m doubting your ability to fill this position,” you say as you walk into the pantry to Hoseok’s futile attempts at dabbing at his shirt. 

“Why’s that?” he asks, nonchalant, not even looking up.

“Well,” you start, standing in front of him and removing his hands to see the damage, “you can’t even handle a sink, so…” you give him a wry smile before gesturing to a closet in the corner. “There’s some extra shirts in there. There should be something that could fit you.”

Hoseok walks over to the closet. “You guys have a shirt closet at the office?”

You shrug. “For emergencies,” you answer, thinking about all the times your men came back from an awry meeting having to get rid of their blood-soaked clothes or to not smell of gunsmoke before going home to their families. Most of those times, that shirt closet saved them from a lot of headaches to deal with, especially your team of lawyers.

To your surprise, Hoseok takes off his shirt on the spot, his broad shoulders in full display. “What the hell? You could have gone into the restroom, for fuck’s sake!” you cry out, going over to the pantry door and shutting it. 

Hoseok turns around while still unbuttoning the fresh shirt. What’s even more surprising than him stripping half naked in the pantry is the fact that there’s a playful, sarcastic smile on his lips as he looks at you. “You’ve never seen a man’s torso before, My Lady?”

The way he calls you My Lady was in no way respectful. It was teasing, taunting, arrogant. You cross your arms over your chest, standing a little bit taller. “As a matter of fact, I have. And I’m speaking for the rest of the office. No one wants to see you half naked, Jung Hoseok.” But that’s a complete lie. You can count at least two people who would want to, Jimin being the other person.

You can’t help but stare at the very visible abs, the bellybutton peeking just above the belt around his waist, the wide chest, the tattoo on- wait a second. Your eyes zone in on the tattoo symbol on the left side of his chest and your heart starts racing. Hoseok notices where you’re looking and he hurries to pull the shirt over his head instead, turning away towards the huge window to finish buttoning up everything except for the last ones around the collar. 

“That tattoo,” he hears you mutter from behind him. 

He finally turns back around, feigning nonchalance once again and picks up his own wet shirt from the floor. “What about it?”

You stare at him, not knowing what to say. If you tell him you recognise it, then you’d have to explain where you’ve seen it before and your employee doesn't need to know what kind of magazines you subscribe to. But those eyes, it’s starting to dawn on you why they’re so familiar, having looked at them almost every night before sleep. And it’s not just those eyes that you’ve been looking at, too. Holy fucking shit. 

What did you tell Jimin earlier? That it’s sexual harassment to lust over a coworker? You can feel your whole face on fire as you whirl on your heels and walk off, marching past Jimin who gives you a weird look, before slamming your office door behind you. 

You lean against the door, heaving. What in the actual fuck? Jung Hoseok is Hoya?!

*~*

You are acting weird, Jimin thinks.

The rest of that Tuesday, you shut yourself in your office and only came out at the end of the day, not a word to anybody, not even Jimin himself. You zoomed past him and quickly left, leaving Hoseok standing there, looking at him as he had all the answers regarding you because Hoseok was supposed to escort you home. That was part of his job scopes. Well, Jimin didn’t have any answers that day and he dismissed Hoseok for the day.

Today, again, you hole up in the office, not even meeting Jimin in the morning in the pantry as usual, only allowing Jimin to come in and out for business purposes only. Jimin chalks it up to you being under stress. The package delivery is on its way and it’s a very high risk time window; anything could go wrong in between the cargo being loaded up into the plane and for it to arrive into your hands. But something else isn’t adding up: you refuse to even acknowledge Hoseok, your head of security, and requested that any communication between them go through Jimin. A pain in the ass because he has other things to deal with but he kept his mouth shut the whole morning.

You, on the other hand, are a complete mess. The package delivery be damned, your whole integrity is about to implode and you have high suspicions that Hoseok knows that you know because you’ve made a fool of yourself by making it obvious. The good thing is, he hasn’t come outright to ask you about it. 

Why the hell didn’t that info come up on the background check? Did Jimin fuck up? Or was Hoseok just that good at hiding his side gig? I mean, he does go by a stage name and not listing that job only meant he had wanted to keep things separate but oh my god, how do you keep things separate when the person you’ve been masturbating to is the person on your payroll?! That’s completely unethical! It makes you such a hypocrite, too, if you confide in Jimin about this whole thing and you rather keep to yourself than be laughed at for the rest of your life. 

That’s it. That’s what you’ll do. Just keep it to yourself the same way Hoseok is keeping that part of his life a secret. Pretend that everything is fine and dandy. You can do that. You slump in your seat and bury your face in your hands, groaning inwardly. And just like that, an image of your favourite Hoya poster pops in front of your eyes, cock and all, and you scream and stand up. 

Jimin opens the door, eyebrows furrowed so deeply they almost merged. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to the delivery?”

The door is pushed open wider and Hoseok peers from behind Jimin’s shoulder, curious, hands in his pockets. Suddenly, his top disappears from your mind and all you can see is the smooth skin of his body and that hope tattoo on his chest. You can even pick out the veins running along his neck, picturing yourself tracing kisses down it, going further south-

“Earth to y/n!” Jimin calls out, coming over to the desk to look at you more closely. The door swings open wider and Hoseok steps in, leaning against the wall of the office, crossing his legs by the ankle. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you squeak out finally. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Nothing. I’m just- just stressed out. The usual. You know how these times are for me.” You pretend to shuffle around some papers on your desk and Jimin only narrows his eyes. 

“The delivery is going as planned,” Hoseok says coolly, his voice even. “My team is monitoring it closely. There shouldn’t be any worry. My Lady.”

You don’t look at him, looking at the spot on the wall next to his head instead and nod. “Right. Good, good.” You swallow, noticing, or probably imagining that strange tone he used to call you ‘my lady’. Most of your men call you that, it’s nothing new, nothing strange. But him? Why does it bother you so much? Maybe because you’ve seen him fucking naked. 

“I’m going out to lunch,” you announce, gathering your things. 

“Really?” Jimin arches an eyebrow, genuinely perplexed by your behaviour and bordering on worry. “Is it safe to be out and about now? Delivery time is a sensitive one, you usually lay low. I can have your lunch delivered. What would you like?”

“No, no. I need to get some fresh air,” you retort, picking up your bag and rushing for the exit, taking the emergency stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. 

Jimin and Hoseok glance at each other. Hoseok pushes off the wall and heads out. “I’ll take care of it,” he says without turning around.

Jimin follows him out to the elevator, still wondering about you. “Bring her back in one piece, Jung.”

The elevator arrives and Hoseok steps in. He gives Jimin a blase two-finger salute before the doors close. As Jimin is about to go back, he notices another odd thing: Hoseok is not going all the way down but only to the level five floors below. Jimin snorts. He guesses the newbie is pretty reliable after all.

You only go as far as five floors down when you start to get breathless and your thighs ache and storming down the stairs in heels isn’t the best of ideas. You pause, leaning against the handrail for support when the emergency door behind you opens and Hoseok leans against one arm to prop it open. “Get out. We’re taking the elevator,” he orders, gesturing with his head. “Hurry before it leaves.”

You want to say no but the thought of going all the way down via the stairs when you’re this high up isn't appealing, crazy almost, so you oblige. In the elevator, both of you remain quiet. It’s a long ride down and it’s the most uncomfortable elevator moment you’ve ever had, cancelling out that one time you were stuck with the Italian mafia right-hand man who was obviously flirting in a language you couldn’t grasp but that you couldn’t say no outright because the deal hasn’t been made yet. And why is it so hot in here?

Finally they arrive and Hoseok pushes past you to lead the way to the waiting car, speaking through his in-ear walkie-talkie. Up in the office, you’ve only ever seen casual Hoseok, nonchalant and calm and looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. But down here, where you’re exposed and Hoseok is in his security mode, he’s a complete one-eighty. His eyes are sharp and narrowed, his jaws set and his pace are brisk. He seems to take the role seriously, for someone hired for four days. 

And he’s tall. Very tall, taller than you realise. You knew his height, have memorised the numbers in your head because it's basic information of your fantasy lover, but actually seeing it firsthand and being able to compare yourself to him (you barely come up to his shoulders), is different. You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Focus, you tell yourself. I’m his motherfucking boss. 

Throughout lunch and all the way back to the office, you had hoped that he would bring it up, the fact that he’s Hoya, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even ask you if you knew. He doesn’t speak more than he has to, only replying in curt replies, eyes always looking out and around. He seems to be very aware of his surroundings and you suddenly notice the bulge on his waist side; the company-issued firearm. 

“It’s good that you’re taking the job seriously,” you say as you both ride the elevator up to the office, stomachs full and you feeling less out of control. 

He gives you a dirty look as if you had offended him. “Of course I am.”

After a few minutes of silence, he adds, “I don’t know what kind of person you take me for, but I take my jobs seriously. You get what you pay for.”

You pull a face, confident you’re out of view standing slightly behind him. “Well, thank you for your service,” you remark, intending to sound sarcastic but Hoseok only shrugs, clearly seeing the face you make through the reflective surface of the elevator door.

Just then, Hoseok receives a message through his walkie-talkie that the package has arrived and passed immigration. He relays the message to you, who slump your shoulders as if the information weighs heavily on them. You lean against the back of the elevator, your face hardening, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Almost there,” he hears you mumble. Again, Hoseok feels the same pang of sympathy he had when they first met. He has so many questions to ask you, mainly how you got involved in this side of business but mostly he’s trying to tell himself not to care. The job is temporary and after Friday, he’ll walk out of this office with enough money to do what he had always dreamt of doing. Easy. Cut and dry. So why does the thought of never returning give him a heavy feeling in his chest?

Hoseok takes another look at you through the reflection. You’re leaning against the back wall, eyes staring at a spot somewhere on the carpet floor of the elevator. You’re thinking of something as your forehead creases over and you start biting on your bottom lip. A sudden urge fills him to whip around and pin you against the wall and kiss you hard enough your lips will bleed. But then your eyes look up to meet his and immediately you smile.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s to come, Jung Hoseok,” you say softly, pushing off the wall as the elevator pings. Gone was the troubled look on your face, replaced with the confidence of a person who knows a lot of things are depending on her ability to lead well. For a brief moment, Hoseok could clearly see the bodies you had stepped on to get here and he’s not sure if he’s disgusted by it or turned on.

He’ll find out soon enough.

*~*

Friday is finally here. 

Hoseok has been away since Tuesday night; doing surveillance, putting tabs on the Sumiyoshi to make sure they’re not planning a surprise, investigating every square feet of the meeting location to make sure that nothing is planted and no sniper will camp on any buildings or high places on a thirty-mile radius, just to be safe. He had a whole manual book on what to do for these things and as much as he cursed every step of the way, Hoseok made sure he did everything right to the T.

After all, his head is on the line, too.

But also, he’s actually physically sick worrying about all the possibilities of what could go wrong. Hoseok isn’t one to show emotions; he hides them all behind a solid poker face, one he has been putting on these past couple of days whenever he has to see you or speak to Jimin. His hunch about you knowing about the magazine has been confirmed but he decided that if the issue should be addressed, it wouldn’t come from him and he bet you wouldn’t talk about it, too, because then you have to explain how you even know. It’s a niche market, a type of magazine you don’t just stumble upon by accident, though it does make him crazy curious if you actually subscribe to it. That would be interesting.  

Friday morning, Hoseok rides the elevator up to the office and finds the place empty of the other usual employees. Instead, there’s a small group of men (and one woman) standing around speaking in a hush tone. All the desks are empty and there’s a sullen atmosphere in the air. The group looks up when he enters. 

Jimin walks in, dressed in all black, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He’s in dark jeans and not the usual three-piece. “Jung, you’re here. Good,” he says. To the group, he introduces Hoseok. “The new and temporary head of security. You can calm down, Vera.”

That’s when Hoseok sees the woman slide back the knife up her sleeves, nodding at him in acknowledgement. Hoseok joins to stand next to Jimin but he looks around once, searching for you. Jimin must have noticed and says, “She’s in her office, meditating. These are the couriers.”

“Where’s the package?” asks Hoseok.

Jimin gestures to your office doors. “In there.” To the one called Vera, he hands over a navy duffel bag. “Everything’s in there. You can count them if you want.”

Vera passes the bag over to the man on her left and he opens the zipper just an inch before nodding and zipping it back up. Vera offers a hand to Jimin. “Always nice doing business with you, Park,” she says in an accent Hoseok can’t quite place. “Although I have to warn you, the day we arrived we were tailed and it took awhile to shake them off. We didn’t get to identify them.”

Jimin’s face clouds over. “And were you tailed today?”

“No,” Vera snaps. “I made sure of that. But I advise you to keep your eyes open.” She looks pointedly at Hoseok. 

They left and Hoseok goes off into the pantry to check in with his team via the radio while Jimin knocks on your door. He peeks in. “Ready when you are, boss.”

“And Hoseok?” you finish buttoning up your blouse over the Kevlar vest and turn around to Jimin. 

“In the pantry. Checking in with the team,” replies Jimin. “Everything looks good.” Jimin approaches and helps you put on your jacket, subtly running his fingers over the vest to make sure everything is properly secured. “How do you feel today?”

Jimin’s voice is soft, a voice only reserved for times like this, when tomorrow feels unsure and Jimin will be left for hours at his desk for news on which protocol to follow: the Meredith Grey Protocol, to which he will have all the privately-hired doctors at the ready and set up lawyers to arrange NDAs as well as mobilise the clean up crew, or the Genocide Protocol for worst case scenarios. In the long existence of this company, the latter had been activated only once, the day your grandfather died and it wasn’t even by Jimin.

“Like I want to throw up,” you answer, letting Jimin fuss with the coat because you can feel him checking the vest. “I honestly feel the same way I did that time the lawyer came to my place to let me know I was about to carry on my grandfather’s business.”

Jimin chuckles. “I remember that day. We just graduated.”

You don’t respond. 

Hoseok opens the door and his eyes narrow at Jimin. “The car’s here. We should get going.” 

Jimin steps away, crossing his arms over his chest to hide how much his hands are shaking. “Good to go.”

“I can see the vest from here,” Hoseok states matter-of-factly. “Don’t you have darker-coloured tops?”

“Watch your tone, temp,” Jimin snarls but he goes into the restroom to rummage through the drawers in there. He comes out with a different blouse in hand and passes it over to you. The phone outside rings and Jimin rushes out to get it, forgetting to drag Hoseok out, too. Hoseok checks his watch; they’re running a minute late and yet you haven’t made any move to change. The vest being seen isn’t a big deal but it might convey the fact that you are expecting something to go bad, which communicates no trust towards the group you’re doing business with. Safety has to be done tactfully to ensure future relationships. Business is business.

Hoseok catches your fingers fumbling with the buttons of your blouse and he’s honestly a little irked. Aren’t you supposed to be some powerful mogul in the diamond business?

Getting impatient, Hoseok steps forward and roughly pulls off the coat from your shoulders, drapes it over his arm and deftly undo the buttons of your blouse. It’s not like you’re completely naked under there and you aren’t even objecting, merely standing there letting him do whatever. 

“Get it together,” he hisses as he yanks the top from your arms. “ Is this what you want to show to your business partners, that you’re just a scared little girl?”

Your eyes flashes dangerously at him. You push him away much to his surprise and grab the blouse from him, putting it on over your head by undoing only a couple of the top buttons. You take the coat from him and take a deep breath. You round on him, poking a finger into his chest. “Don’t ever talk to me like that again.”

You walk out just as Jimin finishes the call. “Everybody’s on the move,” Jimin reports. If he notices the stormy look on your face, he leaves it for later, as a promise to himself that you will be back. “Good luck out there.”

You nod at him and force a smile. “Hold down the fort for me, will ya?”

Jimin doesn’t answer but watches you leave. As Hoseok is passing him, he pulls on the other man’s arm, making him stop and turn angrily. “You let anything happen to her, your ass is mine.”

Hoseok sneers at Jimin’s threat but takes it as an offence to his job albeit it being about to end at the end of the day, one way or another. “I’ll bring the princess back, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he jabs back, turning around and walking out after you. 

 In the car, you are silent the whole ride. Hoseok sits in front, quietly listening to the reports of his team in his ear, noting bits and pieces of information that are important. So far, everything looks according to plan. He’s aware that the Sumiyoshi also have the same type of team keeping tabs on them the same way he is and that’s fine. As long as both parties play their parts well, neither of them will have anything to complain about and they all can go home safe and sound. 

But Hoseok can’t quite get rid of this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger as they get nearer to the meeting place. He tells himself that it’s just nerves but no matter how much he tries, he can’t completely get rid of it. He’s been pestering his team too much now that he can even hear the annoyance in their voices. In the end, he remains in his seat, fist tightly gripping the handle above his head.

The meeting place is an office space on the thirteenth floor of a building downtown. Bright open space with floor to ceiling windows at a three-sixty degree of the room, with other taller buildings surrounding it. The Sumiyoshi, as bad as they are, have a reputation of doing things in broad daylight, aware of the power they hold. Hoseok remains leading the way for you, making sure that you are always behind him at all times and three of his teammates in a circle around you; one on each side of you and one bringing up the rear. 

The other four are off site, in a place where they are able to monitor all entrance and exit points as well as having a clear view of the room they are in. Hoseok has all their specific locations noted, casually glancing at the neighbouring buildings even though he can’t see them. The Sumiyoshi are already there; a total of eight of them, big burly men in suits with golden something on either their necks or their wrists or their fingers. There are only five of us, he thinks.

 As you take your seat at the big table, Hoseok and his team remain standing behind you. Hoseok stands right next to your shoulder, close enough to touch but further enough for them to know that he’s only a bodyguard. He doesn’t even bother to hide the firearm on his side but the one under his right armpit is starting to feel uncomfortable. 

 The meeting starts smoothly; a little back and forth about the weather and the economics, a little bit about this really nice restaurant one of the men went to that they think you should really try, and a bit about home life thrown in, asking you if the behaviour of their wives are all normal or if they were all crazy chicks just after the money. 

Through all the topics, Hoseok watches you smile politely, laugh softly at all the right places, agree with their views on how shit the economy is now, tell them that the restaurant sounds lovely and force a laugh at wives issues they are having, telling them you’re not married so you’re not sure if you know what normal is in that situation. All pleasantries and just about what they want to hear without involving yourself too much, just vague answers that sound a lot like agreements than you holding back your tongue. Smart, Hoseok thinks, and you do it so with ease; all signs that you really know how to spin these types of guys easily. 

But it’s all just surface-level, both you and the eight men know. A little dance everybody does to keep things light before the real thing starts, and the real thing finally starts when the man sitting in the middle clears his throat and adjusts his sitting position. The atmosphere completely shifts and even Hoseok notices it, sucking in a breath and stiffening his spine, listening to his four men in his ear reporting the all clear, nothing suspicious. But his gut is acting up again and he has to clasp his hands together to keep still.

“Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” the man in the middle speaks, leaning over the table. “Do you have it?”

A part of Hoseok wonders why buying diamonds has to be so shifty like this. They’re just diamonds, you can walk into any jewellery store and get them. He never really thought about it much before but being in this meeting is starting to make him wonder the origin of the diamonds. Why do these men buy diamonds from you? Are they illegal? Why? And why are you involved in this business? 

You lean back in your seat, a soft smile on your lips. “Of course I do, Kenji-san. The question is, do you have the payment method ready?”

The man called Kenji breaks into a wide smile and the man next to him brings up a small briefcase and places it on the table in front of him. He taps it. “All in here, sweetheart.”

“You know I hate pet names,” you say sweetly. “But I’ll let it slide this time.” You gesture to Hoseok to get the briefcase but Kenji stops him.

“The merchandise first, sweetheart,” he drawls, his tone losing the pleasantness just seconds ago. 

You return his gaze, unmoving, and Hoseok is on high alert, waiting for any signal from you. Your face is completely blank of any emotions but your eyes are calculative, narrowing ever so slightly that Hoseok would probably not have seen it if he hadn’t been keeping his eyes on you. With his hand behind his back, he signals the others to stay alert, something he didn’t actually have to do because unlike him, they are not new.

You stretch out a palm to Hoseok. “Your knife, please, Hoseok.”

The eight men stiffen up, sitting straight in their seats at the mention of a knife. You giggle quietly. “Relax, guys,” you say, taking the knife Hoseok passes over from his ankle strap and pulling open the right side of your coat. With one swift swipe, you make a slit and pull out a small velvet bag. You dangle it in front of you and Hoseok can hear the small stones inside. His heart is starting to beat a little faster. 

One of the Sumiyoshi’s men stands up from his seat and Hoseok glares at him. The man looks coolly back at him with a crooked smile. He reaches for the briefcase and takes a few steps forward just as you stand up. Hoseok follows you as you approach the man and he can feel all the hairs on his neck rise up. He has this tingling feeling creeping down his back and everything in his being is telling him to make a break for it, pull you away and out of this building right this second. 

You nod for Hoseok to take the briefcase being handed over and he does, palms sweating. Just as the man wraps his beefy hand around the velvet pouch, he lets go of the briefcase and both you and Hoseok step back almost casually, away from the man’s reach. As if a gun couldn’t do what his hands couldn’t, Hoseok thinks darkly, but relief all the same as he literally pulls you by your coat back to your seat. 

Hoseok watches as the pouch trades hands to Kenji who unlaces it and tips the content into the palm of his hand and immediately Hoseok understands. The diamonds are raw diamonds, uncut and untraceable, and mostly, very much illegal. Although the price of raw diamonds is cheap, the fact that it’s unregistered gives the owner an infinite capacity to manipulate them. The business isn’t about money at all; it’s about power. The handle of the briefcase burns that much hotter in Hoseok’s hand and he’s confident he won’t find cash inside. It’s too light anyway.

You lean over and take the briefcase from him, setting it on the table. Opening it, you reveal the content inside for Hoseok to see. A single envelope lays in the middle, thin and white, and you take it and pull out the paper inside. Hoseok glances at it. It’s a list of names, none of which Hoseok recognises. You fold the paper into a tiny square before slipping it into the same opened seam from where the diamond was hidden earlier and one pull at a thread, the pocket closes up nicely.

“It’s nice doing business with you, sweetheart,” Kenji says as he puts away the diamonds. 

“Likewise,” you reply with a smile, closing the briefcase and sliding it back across the table. “If there’s nothing else, then I better get going.” 

“Did you hear about the Ryuukais?”

You pause and raise your eyes to look at Kenji. “Unfortunate, yes.”

“Mhmm.” Kenji places a cigar in between his lips, sits back, cuts the tip and lights it up. He blows out a puff of smoke before saying, “Didn’t you wrap up a deal with them just the night before?”

You don’t respond, training your face to remain calm. There’s a small smile on your lips bordering on acidic, looking nowhere near as sweet as it did earlier. “Yes, I did, actually.”

“How did it go?”

Hoseok watches your jaw ticks before you answer. “We both know I can’t disclose information about the businesses I deal with. It’s confidential.”

 Hoseok doesn’t like the way the men are looking at you; eyes leery with a hint of amusement, like they know something Hoseok doesn’t, like they’re shared a joke earlier and are now recalling it in their heads. He steps closer to you. His men outside must have noticed as there’s a flurry of voices in his ear as they check the surrounding areas. They are trained to read body languages and Hoseok’s body language, through the lens of their snipers, is screaming danger.

“From what I heard it didn’t go very well,” he adds, puffing on the thick cigar. “I must say, should we ever come to a disagreement of sorts, would we be next?”

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I assure you it wasn’t just a disagreement, Kenji-san. As long as we remain cordial and honest, I can see our relationship going beyond into the future.”

Kenji looks at you, blinking lazily as if he’s contemplating on something. At that moment, you remember something; the Ryuukais and the Sumiyoshi are practically brothers. This isn’t going to go well. You had been so focused on the deal that you forgot this little detail and now it makes sense why they moved the meeting up. As much as you had been stressing about the meeting, they had also been eager to see you.

Fuck. How the fuck did you miss this? 

Kenji stands up, the cigar in between his fingers. *I don’t know about our relationship going into the future,” he says as softly as if he’s talking about the weather. 

Something passes over Hoseok’s eyes that makes him blink and the next thing he knows is looking at the faint red dot in the middle of your chest. He doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t even get to register what he’s doing until it’s done and he’s pinning you to the floor and the window to the side has burst into a million pieces. His men immediately go into cover and retrieve mode; fanning out on your sides, guns blazing, returning bullets with the eight men on the other end, hunkering down and using the table and chairs as shields.

Hoseok doesn’t wait for you to regain your balance, pulling up on your feet and dragging out of the room by the wrist before pulling you under his arm, using his jacket to shield your upper half as you both run across the room. He can hear the shouts of his snipers in his ears, exchanging information about the enemies location and readjusting their positions so they can cover your exit. Hoseok lunges for the emergency stairs and escorts you all the way down. As you both burst out into the lobby, you are met with a group of gunmen, not yours, but the Sumiyoshi’s, with their guns drawn. 

Hoseok jumps forward, pushing you behind him and he starts shooting. The sound of guns going on ring in your ears and you see your car pulling up, bullets bouncing off of its bulletproof windows. 

“Go, go, go!” Hoseok shouts angrily from over his shoulder and you run like hell, Hoseok close behind you. A bullet zips past you and bounces off the car’s body and you duck. It’s the exact moment when Hoseok comes flying into you, holding his abdomen. “Fuck,” he hisses, sitting up, grimacing, and continuing to shoot to the men now two left.

Panicking, you get the door open and attempt to drag Hoseok in but he’s too preoccupied to cooperate with you. When he realises what you’re trying to do, he pushes off onto his feet and walks backward to enter the car. He manages to half-turn and roughly shoves you in first that you tumble into the backseat. A bullet hits Hoseok on the neck and he screams as he’s flung backward. One final shot of Hoseok’s gun, the last man outside is thrown to the floor and you finally manage to pull the door closed, the car screeching away from the building.

In the silence of the car, with your ears still ringing, you shift to Hoseok, clamping down on the side of his neck, blood seeping from in between his fingers. First, you tore away his suit jacket, remembering that he had been shot in the stomach but there’s no signs of blood, except for the hole in his shirt. Then you see the Kevlar vest and actually sigh with relief. Hoseok groans in pain and you realise he still has a hole in his neck.

“Back to the office! Tell Jimin to have a doctor ready!” you scream at the driver, probably too loudly as you can’t quite hear your own voice, mostly from the panic in your chest, partly from the tinnitus that won’t go away. You help Hoseok clamp down over his hand, praying that they get there in time.

During the whole car ride back to the office, Hoseok’s eyes never left yours and for once since you met him, there was no iciness in them, just pure concern and worry, especially when he reaches over and touches the bleeding scratch on your cheek. “Sorry for that,” he croaks and you swat his hand away. 

“Hush,” you chastise him, angry that he had the time to worry about a scratch when he’s bleeding out all over your car. 

***

Jimin holds the door open as you help Hoseok into the office, alarmed at the sight of blood all over your hands and Hoseok’s. 

“Have you sent in the retrieval team for the others?” you bark at Jimin under the weight of your Head of Security. 

“They’re already on the way,” Jimin replies. “The doctor’s inside.” He rushes forward to help open the door to your private office before helping you transfer Hoseok into a chair. Dr. Min Yoongi steps up, gently prying your hand off of the bleeding area so he can take a look at Hoseok. There’s a lot of blood and he gets to work cleaning the wound area so he can see better.

He glances up at you. “I need you to move your ass and sit over there. You’re in the way, sis.”

Begrudgingly, you step back but don’t sit down, watching with eagle eyes as your brother works with a gauge and a pair of forceps to dab away the mess. Jimin turns you around and pats you all over. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You shrug him off, focused only on Hoseok, white as a sheet. “Go and make sure the others get back safely.”

Jimin looks reluctant to move but at least he’s made sure you’re fine. Finally, he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. You go to sit in the chair next to Hoseok, who’s turned the other way to let Yoongi access the wound area. He hisses with every dab and once the place is clear enough, Yoongi releases a sigh. 

“What? How bad is it?” you ask, sitting on the edge of your seat.

“It’s just a graze,” Yoongi explains with a scoff. “But it must have hit close to the main artery. I just need to close it off and he’ll be fine.”

Relief washes over you and you feel your limbs go weak. Thankfully, you’re in a chair already and slump backward, throwing your head back. Yoongi watches you carefully as he fixes up the other man, amused at the fact you care this much. 

“Still hurts like a motherfucker,” Hoseok groans through gritted teeth. 

Yoongi chuckles. “I’ve seen worse wounds. You’ll live.”

“Try and get shot at and let me know if you feel the same,” mumbles Hoseok and Yoongi only laughs. “Stay still, punk,” Yoongi tells him. 

It doesn’t take long. Once the wound is patched up, the blood immediately stops and Yoongi administered him a shot for the pain because now that the adrenaline is gone, Hoseok is starting to ache everywhere. The spot where his bulletproof vest had been shot at is starting to bloom a nasty-looking bruise. All the while, you stayed by his side.

When Yoongi finishes and Hoseok has shuffled into your powder room to change into a fresh T-shirt, Yoongi pulls you aside as he packs up. “So, what’s up with the new guy?” At the surprised look on your face, he adds, “Jimin told me while we were waiting.”

“Oh.”

“Well?”

You give him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“You’re hovering over him,” says Yoongi with an eye-roll. “You never hover, never mind an employee.”

You frown at him. “He almost died protecting me.”

“First, he didn’t. It’s just a graze,” Yoongi corrects, counting on a finger, then adding another. “Second, that’s his job. Plus, I never see you fawn over Hank the same way.”

“I wasn’t fawning!” you retort, scowling as you watch Yoongi stuff his bags. “Was I?”

“Sis,” Yoongi laughs, zipping up his bag and going for the door. “Seriously, figure that out yourself. I’m going to wait outside for words about the others. From the sound of things, it’s not looking good and I might have to call in Jin for help. Wait, you’re not going to hover over the other men, right?”

You pull a face at him. “Get out.”

“You’re very welcome, sis,” he says sarcastically as he leaves. 

“What was that about?”

You jump, whirling around to see Hoseok standing there, neck bandaged, touching the gauze gingerly. You approach him, eyeing the bandage to make sure Yoongi did a good job. Of course he did. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he answers, sitting down. Under the light of your office directly above him, you notice that you can see the hope tattoo through the T-shirt. Hoseok notices you looking at the spot on his chest. To redirect your attention, he asks, “You still have the vest on?”

You look down at yourself. “Oh, yeah.” You start to paw at the velcro of the vest but without taking off your own blouse, you wouldn’t be able to take the Kevlar off and for some reason, you keep struggling with it. Hoseok watches you silently for a few minutes, noting the faraway look in your eyes, the way your lower lip quivers and realises that you’re just coming down from the adrenaline now. 

He stands up and walks over to you, as quietly as he can as you continue to struggle. Once he’s standing in front of you, just a foot apart, you finally look up and something squeezes Hoseok’s heart like a vice at the sight of your Bambi eyes. A sneak attack, he thinks, right after I’ve been shot. So unfair. 

Without a word, Hoseok hooks his fingers around the hem of your blouse and pulls it off; he does it in slow motion, waiting every second for you to protest, to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t, standing there almost listlessly, letting him undress you. Then, he works on the Kevlar, strapping it off of you and throwing it into the chair where it lands heavily. Now, you’re both standing there, motionless; him with his wrapped neck, you in your bra. 

Your eyes are glued to the spot where the tattoo on his chest is and this time you don’t bother to pretend ignorance. With tentative fingers, you reach out to touch it over the T-shirt and Hoseok lets you, watching you curiously. On a whim, he takes off the shirt and watches you stare, a little wide-eyed at the tattoo. There’s recognition in the way you’re looking at it and Hoseok’s confirmed on what he already knows. 

You touch the tattoo, your finger hot on his skin. Again, call it a whim or call it immaturity because Hoseok is suddenly angry for whatever reason - probably from what just went down earlier, because as much as he has had experience with shooting a gun, he had never had to shoot at someone before and having it shot back in his direction, because target practice in the military don’t shoot back and he’s starting to feel that he wasn’t fully prepared for the whole shitshow - he presses your palm over the tattoo. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something,” he hisses into your face. “I know you know.” You try to pull away but Hoseok holds you in place, taking one step forward and pinning you against the desk, anger surging. “I know you know who I am and I bet you’ve fantasised about me, too, in bed. Haven’t you?”

The anger swells up though he can’t quite pinpoint what the cause is. He’s angry that no one told him that he could die on the job? He’s angry at himself for being so lackadaisical about it when signing the damn employee contract? He’s angry at you for not saying anything and treating him for a fool, the same way you didn’t warn him that a meeting could go south in a blink of an eye? None of the reasons, if Hoseok was thinking clearly, made any sense because he’s not a child. But he’s angry all the same and he needs to direct it somewhere. He nearly fucking die, damn it!

You’re quiet, not saying anything, only looking back at him, breathing heavily. That only makes him angrier. “You have, haven’t you? When you realised who I was, did you fantasise about this, too? Hoya taking you on this desk, in this office?”

He’s squeezing the flesh on your side. “Answer me, goddammit!”

“I don’t,” you finally whisper.

“Liar!” he growls, face inches from yours. “Admit that you’ve been fantasising about him in your bed and how much you want him to fuck you right here!” He slams his fist into the desk. “Admit it!”

You meet his gaze. “I don’t. I don’t fantasise about Hoya.” In a lower voice as you look away, you add, “Not anymore.”

It feels like having to admit your deepest, darkest secret in public and you’ve never felt so humiliated. Forget about bruised egos, you wish the floor would just open up and swallow you whole. Your fantasy lover, your sweet, sexy Hoya has been slowly disintegrating in your mind the day you realised who Hoseok was, slowly, slowly replacing with images of the real person, Hoseok himself. Lusting for a coworker is sexual harassment, your own voice echoes in your head. 

You hook a finger through a belt loop in his pants and pull him closer, crotch to crotch and immediately you can feel him, hard and poking against your pubic bone. Looking him in the eye, you say, “I don’t fantasise about Hoya.”

For a moment, Hoseok can’t comprehend what you’re saying; the fact that his cock is pressing up against you could be the main reason why his brains are scrambled. There’s a petulance in the look in your eyes and the way you’re looking at him challengingly, daring him to take the hint and act on it. Why are you doing this to him? Why do you make him so angry? Why is he so angry? 

The fact that you did, in the past, had fantasised about the adult model leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth at the unfairness. Why does Hoya get everything? Even you, for a moment. “Why not?” he asks, genuinely curious. “Why not anymore?”

You lean on your tiptoes, pressing your palms against his chest, the spot where his cock is digging in searing hot. “Because,” you say, your breath falling on his lips. “I’ve been fantasising about you, Jung Hoseok. I don’t want Hoya anymore when I have the real thing right here.” You lean in closer. “But, I won’t do anything. I’m your boss.”

You push him away, catching him by surprise that he stumbles backward a few steps. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I-”

Hoseok grabs your wrist and wrenches you backward. “Actually,” he says, purring into your ear, “you’re not my boss anymore. As of five o’clock just now, my contract ended.”

You scowl at the clock on the wall: 5.01. You glance back at Hoseok, arching an eyebrow. “And?”

“Fuck, you make my blood boil,” he hisses, eyes glaring at you angrily, mouth connecting with yours without a warning, teeth gnashing together that you taste blood on your tongue the same way you can taste Hoseok’s overflowing emotions. You recognise it well, have gone through it in the past too many times too much after every gunfight. It’s not anger that he’s feeling but he probably hasn’t figured that out yet, confusing it with anger because that’s the emotion he knows and can place. 

He’s still running on adrenaline, never switching off his fight-or-flight response and since he had been on fight mode to get you out of the situation earlier, he’s still there, but since there’s nothing to fight, he’s channelling it differently. To be honest, you’re still in that same haze, too, probably why you never fight him off when he kisses you, probably also why you pull him in closer, pressing your front up against him and letting him lift you up and plops you on the edge of the desk. He needs this as much as you do.

 “Tell me,” he says in between kisses, “what do you want me to do, my lady?”

The words my lady makes a shiver run down your spine, even more when he says it like that; spitefully, sarcastically. The fire burning in Hoseok’s eyes is somehow turning you on even more than the icy cold look that Hoya always has. You want that fire to burn you, too, and maybe it could clean away all the parts you hate and free you of the burden you’ve felt since taking over the company. You want Hoseok to incinerate you if it means liberation. 

Hoseok peppers your neck with kisses so rough little red spots dot your skin. As he sucks on your earlobe, you let out a whine that only fuels him on. “FYI, I’m better than him,” he growls and only for a second, you wonder why he refers to Hoya in the third person but the thought completely wipes out from your mind the moment he pulls your bra down and wraps his mouth around your already perky nipple.

You lean back on your hands, giving him free access, clamping your mouth shut from making any noise but the way he rolls your nipple in between his teeth and tongue almost makes you lose it. There’s a soft knock on the door but you ignore it, your eyes closed and focused on Hoseok’s mouth. It’s not long until he’s shimmying off your pants and underwear together, kneeling by the desk, fingers digging into your thighs as he keeps your legs from closing around his head. 

You’re already so wet that when Hoseok’s mouth lands on your soaked cunt, he makes this loud slurping sound as he sucks on your throbbing clit. This time, you bite onto your arm to keep from screaming out. That long tongue you’ve seen on posters, that you’ve dreamed of having on you, is now actually teasing and prodding your entrance, tongue-fucking you so well you’re starting not to care that they are people outside the door, one of them your own older brother.

Hoseok stands up and the strain in his pants is very much evident. He doesn’t even bother to take it off fully, pushing it down to his knees, enough to spring his length free for you to finally gaze at its glory. It’s exactly like the poster but much larger, sticking up erect against his stomach. Without wasting time, you widen your legs as an invite and Hoseok lines himself up. He glides it over your clit a few times, gathering your juice before slowly, painfully slowly, sinks in, letting your warmth cover him tip to base, feeling every ridge of your wall swallow him whole. You pulsate around him, adjusting to his size as he leans his forehead against yours.

Something inside you screams that this isn’t the time or place for this type of debauchery but the way Hoseok’s eyes set you on fire, you can barely think clearly. You can hear familiar voices outside your door and can tell that Yoongi must have called Jin over. There’s a soft knock on the door and Hoseok growls, “Fuck off,” and whoever is on the other side must have heard the fury in his voice and doesn’t bother to knock again. 

“Your team needs medical attention when they get back,” you say breathlessly, fully aware of the parts of you and Hoseok that are connected. “We should-”

Hoseok pulls out and rams in, knocking the breath out of you in a loud gasp as your toes curl at the delicious feeling. “Finally found a way to shut you up, My Lady,” he comments with a smirk. “See if you can keep quiet for me.”

The desk rattles underneath you but you’re stubborn in your own ways, clamping your mouth shut, whimpering in your throat as you brace your knuckles against the surface of the desk. Hoseok pounds into you until your eyes roll back into your head, him grunting softly, you a whining mess. Unsatisfied and annoyed, Hoseok pulls you off the desk and readjust you, hitting you from the back while holding one of your legs up by the knee, an angle that lets him reach in deep, leaving your mouth hanging open, not even a squeak uttered as it feels like you can barely breathe. The sound of wet skin slapping against skin is resounding in your ears. 

“Look at you, taking orders so well,” Hoseok hisses in my ear. “Is this what you fantasise about happening between you and Hoya?”

“Just get it over and done with,” you snap back, leaning against the desk for support. You can hear a slight commotion outside the door as the team left behind is back. You can hear the scraping of furniture as things are being moved around to create space. 

Again Hoseok wrenches your wrist over to your office chair, guiding you to straddle him. Once you slide back onto his length, sighing softly, Hoseok roughly cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Look at me so you can see it’s not Hoya,” he orders. “I want you to remember that it’s me making you feel this way, me stuffing you full. Not him.”

You nod weakly, wanting nothing than to appease the fire in his eyes, the same fire that seems to be burning stronger in the pit of your stomach with every plunge as you move on top of him. You can feel that familiar twist, the coiling of pleasure as it winds tighter and tighter. Hoseok gets the signal from the way you fist his shirt and the way your pussy clenches harder around his cock. You’re close and so is he. 

You’re losing momentum, growing tired from having to move on tiptoes to have as much control on your movements so Hoseok places both hands over your ass and lifts you up, transporting you onto the desk once again, your back flat on it. Then he gets to work; his strokes are relentless yet even, assisted by how overflowing your cunt is, making everything that much more pleasurable. 

“I’m close,” you manage to squeak out.

“Keep your eyes open,” Hoseok warns but this time his voice is softer. “Keep your eyes on me, princess. Say my name.”

You’re a little confused but obliged, his name coming out in a whisper at first. The orgasm is close now. “Louder,” urges Hoseok, chasing it. 

“Hoseok,” you mumble, spreading your legs wider, letting him hit exactly in that sweet spot. You’re oh so close your back is arching off the desk. “Hoseok.” Your voice is growing louder and the desk makes a loud sound as it’s suddenly pushed back slightly.

Not a minute later, you’re pulling Hoseok in by the neck, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the scream spilling from your lips as you orgasm hard enough for Hoseok to have a few last strokes before pulling out and spilling all over your stomach, covering your skin with hot milky liquid that you barely pay attention to as you come down from your high. When you finally let go of Hoseok, a crimson set of teeth marks bloom on the shoulder of his shirt. 

Hoseok glances at the spot, frowning. “You bit me.”

“You told me to be quiet,” you retort sweetly. 

***

Your office door finally opens and Jimin sighs, “Finally, thank God! You finally decide to-”

He stops, looking at you from head to toe, noticing that you’re in a pair of jeans and a loose T-shirt, not what you were wearing earlier. Hoseok is also in a fresh dark T. You fake nonchalance, typing up your hair into a ponytail to manage the mess and walk over to Yoongi tending to one of your men. He doesn’t seem to have any serious wounds. Hoseok goes over to the others, crouching on the floor to talk to one of them.

Yoongi doesn’t even bother looking up but there’s a smug look on his face. “Finished debriefing your Head of Security?”

You catch Yoongi looking at you in the reflection in the window and glare at him. “Yes. It was satisfactory.” He snorts a laugh but doesn’t say anything more. 

The team came back mostly intact, suffering from light wounds that can easily be taken care of. After the doctors finished looking at them, Hoseok takes them to another room to have a post mortem regarding the situation and you help Yoongi and Jin pack up. Jimin is already on the phone with the clean-up crew, occasionally flicking his eyes over at you like he’s got something to say and is antsy to say it. 

Honestly, you’re not up to dealing with him right now, so you pack up your things and head home. Jimin will take care of things, that much you know, and you’ll deal with the Sumiyoshi another day. Right now, all you can think about is your bed and how warm and safe it would feel under the thick blankets because now that the adrenaline is gone, you feel bone tired, dragging your feet as you arrive home and climb into bed.

You must have dozed off because when you open your eyes again, the room is dark and someone is ringing your doorbell incessantly. You get up and squint at the intercom through your sleepy eyes and see Hoseok standing in the lobby area, waiting to be let in with one hand against his hip. 

“What is it?” you croak through the speaker, hoping he'll just go away.

Hoseok looks up directly into the camera. “Let me in already.”

“Just go away.”

You watch as he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He holds up a paper bag to the camera. “I suppose you’re not hungry then.”

Your stomach lets out a loud rumble.

***

You eat in silence, Hoseok sitting across from you as he pushes his food around with his fork, watching your plate to make sure your food is eaten. 

“How’d you know my favourite shop?” you ask, trying to alleviate the awkwardness.

“Jimin,” he grunts out. 

Suddenly, the memories of earlier in the office come rushing in and your fork pauses just inches from your lips. “Oh,” you say quietly. “Did he, um…did he say anything to you?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Why? Should he?”

You shrug, feeling a little relieved. “Just wondering.”

Hoseok puts down his fork and crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you two in a weird situationship or something? Because I’m not going to waste my time getting in the middle of that.”

You almost choke on your food as you laugh, shaking your head and coughing, fingers wiping your eyes. “Where the hell did you get that idea from?” 

“You guys look really close.” You look up and can’t believe to see the pout on his face as he looks down to the floor, scowling. Something about the way he looks at that moment makes you feel weirdly protective of him. 

“We are,” you say, continuing to eat. “We practically grew up together. He had been there since the beginning and I guess we bonded over shared trauma.”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow.

You chuckle. “It’s just something we say. When my grandfather died, we were both only seventeen, fresh out of high school. He was the grandson of my grandfather’s right-hand man who died the same day my grandfather did. Well, you can imagine how.”

Hoseok gives a small nod.

“Yeah, well, after that, it was a whole shitshow of finding a successor and because I’m a girl, the company wasn’t confident. But my grandfather’s will was ironclad so they sent me off to college and groomed me to be the next head. Jimin, too. He would have been a professional dancer by now, you know? If they had let him be.”

Hoseok watches you stare into your plate, barely eating now. There’s a melancholy in your voice and a bittersweet smile lingering on your lips. “Jimin tells me that he agreed to the role so he can keep an eye on me,” you laugh, “but I’m certain that he was subjected to more pressure than I was and not with words.” You give him a knowing look. “So when I finally stepped into the position, I swore I was going to do things differently.”

Hoseok scoffs. “Is it really any different now?”

You smile at him. “My grandfather led the top underground organisation of his time. This company is built on the bones of his enemies. Literally.”

“You still deal with the same type of people,” Hoseok points out.

You sigh. “Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can never wash off the bloodstains. Not completely.” You stand up and collect the plates, bringing them over to the sink. “Enough about me. What about you?”

“What about me?”

You lean against the sink, looking at him. “Look, I know you know that I know you’re Hoya, let’s get that out in the open now. Yes, I buy those stupid magazines, kill me.”

He smirks but his eyes clouded over. “I thought lusting over a coworker is wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “We’re not coworkers, I’m your boss.”

“Which makes it even worse.”

You let out a groan. “Seriously, stop trying to distract me!”

“From what?”

“From demanding that you just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

That you’re Hoya! That you work as an adult model on the side!” You’re so frustrated now you’re actually screaming at Hoseok who only looks mildly amused.

“I’m not,” he says simply. 

“Ugh, fine. Whatever, I don’t care,” you snap, proceeding to start doing the dishes. “You can go now. I’m just going back to bed after this.”

Hoseok stands up and walks over to stand next to you. He leans over slightly so you’re forced to look at him. “I’m not Hoya,” he repeats.

“I saw the tattoo on your chest,” you retort. “You don’t have to lie.”

Hoseok touches the spot over his T-shirt. “Yeah, we got matching tattoos.”

You give him an incredulous look. “What the hell? Do you have some kind of multiple personality thing or something?”

“No, I don’t. I’m not Hoya, and Hoya isn’t me.”

You stare at him, the water running in the background. “I don’t get it.”

Hoseok leans back against the kitchen cabinet. “He’s my twin.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?”

“I have a twin brother. It’s not bullshit,” Hoseok reiterates, frowning. He fishes out his phone from his pocket, scrolls around on it and produces a photo to show you. “See? Twins.”

You stare, open-mouthed, at the picture of two identical men; one clearly Hoseok with his serious face, barely a smile, the other one the complete opposite with a bright smile and a peace sign over his eyes, his other arm thrown over Hoseok’s shoulders. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “You’re twins!”

“Like I was telling you,” Hoseok replies, rolling his eyes and putting the phone away.

“Wow,” you say again. “That’s…that’s…”

Hoseok crosses his arms again, the smirk on his face growing into a grin. “Yeah, you lusted over your employee’s family member. Should I report to HR?”

Flustered, you tell him, “Actually your contract ended so you’re not my employee anymore.” You turn back around to do the dishes, hiding the fact that your face is burning red.

Hoseok nods. “Right.”

You feel his arms snake around your middle, pulling you up against him as he places his lips to your ear. “Since I’m not an employee anymore,” he whispers, “how about we continue where we left off earlier? Hmm? I heard you have a king bed.”

 Against your better judgement, you melted into him. “Let me guess; Jimin told you about that too?”

Hoseok purrs. “He implied, yes.”

While Jimin prepares for battle at the office, making a few phone calls and arranging a few meetings here and there for you, you and Hoseok retreat to the bedroom and for the first time since the bed was bought, you’re about to see if the quality is as good as the brand company promised; sturdy and quiet. 

You left your phone in the kitchen so you missed the text from Jimin: I hope the tall glass of water I sent your way is rejuvenating

a/n2: so I wrote this before news of jhope's enlistment came up and kinda hate myself for writing it into existance :') cmon be honest, what did you think? lol give it to me in the comments or ask IM READEHHH lmaoooo

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

[kiestrokes]

How BTS Would React to You Coming Home Drunk (and Horny) from a Night Out with Friends | NSFW

Pairing: BTS x Reader/You/Yn (some gendered + some non-gendered) Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 691ish Genre: scenario/imagine, smut, sprinklings or crack/fluff, established relationships. Warnings: mentions of drinking (consensual drunken behavior between partners), reader is wearing a dress because ease of access.

Sexually Explicit Content: penetration (penis is whatever you want to imagine: vagina/ass), cunnilingus, fellatio, nipple play, cockwarming, kissing/making out, overstiumulation, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything!

🗝️ Note: I’ll format this tomorrow. But in tradition of when this imagine was made, that’s a sober Kie problem. A repost from @/goodsoop. Edited 8/20/23 to include warnings!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted here. 

KSJ: would be mildly "unapproving" of your loose behavior but would fix himself a double and quickly get on your level. Until you both were drunk, loudly playing video games on the couch of the game room. This of course escalates into you attempting to cheat by climbing into his lap. You end up getting distracted by his beautiful lips and it turns into a sloppy, laughter filled fuck on the sectional. Jin boasts that he, of course, won. In the game and in getting you off.

MYG: was asleep when you drunkenly climbed into bed, laying on top of him Jung-Hoseok-spread-eagle style. Grumbles about the fact you’re going to have a hangover tomorrow. Slips out from under you and begins to remove your clothes. Batting away your wandering hands that are attempting to climb under his shirt. He leaves you passed out on top of the covers to get water and pain reliever. Returning to your sad attempt at getting yourself off. Huffs at you to let him do it, because he secretly loves how pliable and vocal you are when he gives you head this way.

JHS: is also in bed, you strip down to your panties and climb under the covers with him. He sleepily pulls you back into him, large hands drifting down your bare body. You have no trouble rousing Hoseok for drunken foreplay, he’s already hard. But he just wants a little cock warming tonight. To feel you clench around him as he plucks your nipples between nimble fingers and drifts off into the wettest dream of his life.

KNJ: was up late reading, stands up to greet you, reading glasses still on. Catches your mouth just as you tug his face to yours. The two of you clumsily fumbling with each other across the living room. He curses as he accidentally drops you onto the coffee table. But you’re unharmed and laughing, hands already reaching to tug down his sweats. Giving him a thoroughly dedicated blow job. Until he coats your throat and is moaning at you to stop.

PJM: is waiting for you in the bedroom, watching a new drama. Waiting in his boxers for the return of handsy and affectionate you. This is the only time that you’re almost as touchy with him as he is you. You don’t even take your dress off, just drop your panties at the bedroom door. Climbing onto Jimin’s lap to kiss the lips you had been thinking about since your second drink. It’s slow and intense sex that has you both crying out from overstimulation.

KTH: is mopey of course that he couldn’t go with you and the "girls". Has a bit of a wine buzz and is dancing around the kitchen to some Leon Bridges. You slip into his waltz and Tae serenades you, spinning you around the island. Until you’re pulled into a mutual kiss like two magnets, charged by the music and alcohol pulsing through your veins. He pins you against the island with his husky, low groans. Fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, and under your panties until his fingers are coated in your essence. He swallows your cries of pleasure, murmuring quiet pleas against your lips, begging for you to take him out next time.

JJK: he of course is gaming when you get home. So you slip past him, dropping your clothes along the way to catch his attention. He grumbles to his teammates in frustration, excusing himself from the game. Running to catch up with you just as you make it to the bedroom door, nude as fuck. You squeal as he spins you around and peppers wet, open mouth, kisses from your neck to the top of your knees. Before folding you across the edge of the bed, ass bare to him. Making quick, erratic work of your orgasms. Before collapsing on top of you, his t-shirt collecting the sweat that had accumulated on your back. He abandons the game to climb into bed with you, cuddling naked.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.