#jung Hoseok fluff

[atinystraynstay]

Steal The Show - Jung Hoseok

Synopsis: He was amazed by her. He knew how hard she'd worked for this moment, so being able to see her do her thing made him feel complete. She outshined the sun.

There was just one thing left he had to do.

Pairing: idol! Jung Hoseok x idol! fem reader

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, friends to lovers

Word Count: 2.8k

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"J-hope! J-hope! J-hope!" The sound of cheers made Hoseok's heart shake with excitement. If there's any place he loved the most, it was being on stage.

Hoseok was wearing a pair of baggy jeans, an olive green tee-shirt, a black hoodie, and a black and white bomber jacket. Tonight, he was performing on the street (with J. Cole) for the first time. He was excited to showcase this stage for not just for Army, but for everyone. Especially for you.

You initially met Hoseok when you both were at an all-intensive dance class in New York City. He was shooting a music video, and you were attending university for dance. He was impressed with your dancing abilities, stepping back to watch just you when it wasn't his turn to dance. You moved as if you were made out of water, very fluid yet so in control of your body. He was amazed.

At the end of the lesson, Hoseok asked if you wanted to grab lunch. To be honest, you didn't really hear of BTS before meeting Hoseok. You figured he was your average guy from Queens who loved to dance. However, watching the dance practice videos he showed you at the cafe next door, you were amazed.

You didn't think the K-pop industry was for you though. You originally were trying to make it on Broadway, that's why you decided to attend school in the city. You wanted to network and make connections, wanted to go to auditions when you had free time. The politics involved in the Western music industry turned you off completely.

When JYP announced they were doing auditions across America, you decided to take the jump. It also helped that Hoseok pushed you to just try out.

"I'm not saying I want you to become an idol. I'm not saying I want you to move here to Korea. Even though I'd love living in the same part of the world as you," he said over FaceTime, laughing. "But it doesn't hurt to audition! Worse case, the audition is good experience for the next one you do."

He was right there. You just needed to put yourself out there. You've only done a few casting calls for ensembles, but you wanted a challenge. You wanted to attempt to go for a lead. And to an extent, auditioning for a music company was a challenge. It was out of your wheelhouse, but Hoseok reassured you that the k-pop industry drew people from all over the world from all sorts of backgrounds.

And somehow, you made it past the first audition. You sang "Fast Car" to showcase your singing abilities, even though you come from a dancing background. You were then asked to freestyle a dance, which honestly was the easiest part of the audition. It probably was easy considering you and Hoseok often freestyled with each other over FaceTime when you were in your own respective dance studios.

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"Hoseok?"

He looked over his shoulder, a smile immediately on his face. He knew that voice anywhere.

"Y/n." You were wearing a light blue dress. There was a cutout in the shape of a heart surrounded by silver rhinestones. hugged around your thighs, showing off the white fishnet stocks. You wore a matching pair of white block-heeled boots that stopped short of reaching your knee. Your hair was down in curls, framing your face. You looked divine.

Before he knew it, you walked right up to him and hugged him tightly. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He got a smell of your perfume, something that he's grown very fondly over. It smelled like cherries and vanilla. A scent he favored resonated with you.

"I've been looking for you all over," you giggled. His heart swelled at the thought of you searching for him.

"Well know you've found me," he winked. "You ready to go kill it out there?" "And know that you're watching me? Of course."

Hoseok wasn't sure what the line-up was. He only knew that he was geared towards the end of the showcase. He always loved watching what other artists and groups came up with, sometimes making their usual performances extra special. Hoseok also liked being the one to watch smaller acts, giving them a source of encouragement as they were just at the start of their careers.

He also strategically placed himself here, right at the side of the stage, so he could watch you. Not only did he want to watch you perform, but he wanted to be the first and last person you saw before and after being on stage. He wanted to cement himself as your biggest supporter, in more ways than one. "Y/n, five minutes. Let's get you into position," one of the backstage crew announced.

That's how it always goes when it comes to performances like this. It was hectic all over. People were running around, making sure the appropriate stages were in place and artists were ready to go. It was one after the other, no real break until the last performance.

You looked up at him, a slight frown tugging onto your lips. You were hoping to have more time to catch up with Hoseok before taking to the stage.

"Promise to be here when I get back?" "Angel, I'm not going anywhere."

This time, he kissed you on your cheek before moving his lips to your ear. He could feel the eyes on him, not wanting to tell him to hurry up but also getting a bit antsy. Hoseok was a gentleman, so he could be quick.

"I'm always going to be here. Go rock that stage so you can return back to me."

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I feel so much lighter like a feather with you out my life With you out my life

The crowd screamed as you were twirled around the stage. If anyone was born to be on stage, it was you. You were smiling wide during the instrumental part of your song, your backup singers the harmonies.

You were done by the stage extender, interacting with your fans. Truth be told, you were surprised people were that responsive to you. You felt like you were at the start of your career, still trying to build a name for yourself. Of course, you took nothing for granted.

Hoseok wasn't surprised. He has seen your rise to fame happen both in person and online. People were captivated by you, but he wanted to make sure you knew he was front of the line.

Right now, you were performing a song you had written to your ex-boyfriend. Hoseok remembered that night so vividly. He had never seen anyone write a song that quickly besides Yoongi. You used all your anger to channel into this particular song. Your ex doubted that you could make it, he didn't see your potential.

But Hoseok did. He knew you were a shining star. You just needed the right support system to boost your confidence and help you pursue you dreams.

And you were blessed to have someone like Hoseok in your life. Not even someone, a man like Hoseok. He made it easy for you to forget your ex boyfriend. He was the one who reassured you, uplifted you, and showed you love. You weren't sure if there was a chance of you two getting together, but you were a wishful thinker.

it feels so good not carin' where you are tonight And it feels so good not pretending to like the wine you like

Your hips were swaying as you strutted back up to the main part of the stage. The crowd went wild for you as you ran your hands through your hair, letting it fall back down to your back.

Once you were center stage, you glanced over your shoulder. You grinned to see Hoseok still to the side of the stage, watching you. You winked at him before looking towards the crowd again.

I slam the door

You kicked up your foot as you were closing the door. You wore a smirk. Here goes nothing. I hit ignore

With your back towards Hoseok, you bent over slightly. The amount of times you ignored texts and calls from your ex were too high too count. You knew one thing for sure though. You would always pickup for Hoseok.

Hoseok's eyes widened as he watched you. That's new. Was that intended for him? Were you responding to what he said to you before you were whisked away to get on stage? He bit his lip gently, a smirk on his lips. He was proud of how far you've come, both in your personal life and professional career. But he couldn't help but feel his ego swore as he thought you were showing off for him.

Well played, y/n.

I'm saying, no, no, no, no more I got you blocked Excited to never talk

You were standing up straight again. You popped your hip slightly. The hand not holding your bedazzled microphone also resting on your hip. You wore a smirk.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

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The stage lights went dark as you bowed to the crowd. There was a loud roar of cheers, fans begging you to stay. You blew a kiss though before you were escorted off stage. Your mind was in the clouds, overjoyed by the outcome of your performance. That couldn't have gone any better!

There was just one thing left to do to truly make this a night to remember. Someone handed you a water bottle as your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart racing from the performance and adrenaline rush you were experiencing. You grabbed the water, but kept your eyes locked forward.

From the moment you left the stage, your eyes were locked on Hoseok. You didn't have to go searching for him. He stayed as he promised. He wore a wide smirk as he waited for you, members backstage of the production and your manager checking in with you. "Y/n, we can either stay to watch the rest of the show or head back to the hotel." "I'm staying."

Once you finally were away from the staircase leading to the stage, the crowd around you began to disperse slightly. You passed the water bottle in your hand to your manage before you took off running towards Hoseok.

You weren't thinking straight. All you knew was that you needed to get to him. It was as if something had possessed you because before you knew it, you were jumping into his arms. He caught you easily, the two of you in a fit of laughter. "That was amazing, y/n! You are amazing," he said, grinning. You grinned back at him. Your hands rested on his shoulder as he twirled you around a bit. Everyone around you figured you had a close friendship. A very close one, indeed. But after the exchanges between the two of you, that was going to take a step up. You were sure of it, but just not in the eyes of public.

"Come on, I think we got some talking to do, sweetheart. I got a little bit before going on stage."

Hoseok gently set you back down to your two feet, but had a hand securely on your lower back. People eyed the two of you as you passed by. Artists that you admired, friends, and others congratulated you on a successful stage. All you could do was smile and bow politely, both out of breath but also trying not to stop too long for a conversation. You weren't trying to be rude. You just had other priorities.

His thumb caressed your lower back. You didn't have to question where you were going. You always put all your trust into Hoseok. He has prove time and time again his loyalty and his sincerity towards you. He was a rare find in a world that tended to be more cruel than kind.

After a few moments, mainly with you focusing on the feeling of his touch, you found yourself out of his dressing room. He pushed it open, motioning for you walk through the threshold first.

"Always the gentleman, aren't you, Hobi?"

He chuckled and shrugged, watching as you walked in first. Once he made sure you were safely in the room, he closed the door behind him. He locked in, not wanting to get interrupted again like before.

This time, he let his heart take over rather than his mind. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You giggled in surprised, letting out a soft gasp as he lifted you up with ease. Wow, he's gotten stronger since the last time you saw him.

Carefully, he had you sit on the counter of the makeup vanity set up. His makeup team from the company already had done the makeup they needed to do earlier. They opt for a more natural look, seeing as this song was personal for Hoseok. And much to your happiness, you got his bare face all to yourself.

Your legs were slightly parted, allowing Hoseok to slip in between them. Biting your lip gently, you gazed up into his eyes. You were trying to cipher what could be going on in his mind. You were getting all the right signals from him to confirm your assumptions, but you wanted to make sure you weren't jumping to conclusions. One of your hands gripped the edge of the counter, the other hand resting on his forearm.

"Y/n, I think I'm done playing games," he murmured. One of his hands rested by yours. Not exactly touching, but your want to feel his skin on yours burned within you. His other hand lifted up to brush the hair out of your face. He tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His hand then gently rested on your cheek.

The confidence you had on stage melted away. You could feel your body warm up, seeing how close you were and how alone you truly now. The chaos outside was white noise. All your attention was on Hoseok without any interruptions. He smirked seeing the shy side of yourself starting to appear once again.

He loved witnessing all the sides of you. While yes, you two were prominent in each other's lives, he wanted to learn more about you.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," you said softly.

He scoffed. "Really? You don't remember that little stunt you pulled on stage? Come on, darling, you trying to tell me something?" "But what about you, Hoseok? What was that you told me earlier?"

He hummed, nodding his head. "That's the games I'm talking about. Why don't we cut to the chase, huh? Stop torturing ourselves?"

This time, you nodded in agreement. You were onboard to full send, to take this friendship into uncharted territory for the two of you. Yes, it was scary to take this friendship into a level that most friends don't go. However, if Hoseok was willing, so were you.

Wanting to take back a bit of control of the situation, you slightly tilted your head. Your lips hovered right underneath his. His breathing seemed to hitch, which caused you to smirk.

Look who is now turning soft.

Truthfully, you made him weak and he thrived off being your weakness. It was as if subconsciously you two always knew you had feelings for each other. Yet, for the sake of the friendship, you oppressed any feelings you had. You were at the point now that you were boiling over and it was all seeping out. Everyone else saw how you two stared at each other with hearts in your eyes. You both were just catching up to speed.

"How do you propose we stop torturing ourselves, huh? Tell me, Hobi. What's been on your mind?" "You're the only thing ever on my mind, y/n," he murmured.

The way his voice dropped an octave made you want to whimper. You felt small with him towering over you. He knew the little things to do to make you weak in the knees.

"I'd just like it if you no longer live in my fantasies and were actually mine. That way I can make every thought I have into a legitimate plan with you." "Then make it happen."

Hoseok's eyebrow raised yet he was intrigued. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you slightly closer to him until you sat right at the edge of the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close to your as well.

He began lean in, his lips grazing yours. You both sighed in contact. So close yet not quite there.

Before his lips could fully press against yours, there was a knock at the door. "J-hope, 5 minutes!" Dammit! He smirked as he pulled away while your frowned, disappointed to not get to kiss him quite yet. You raised an eyebrow, surprised to see him not more disappointed. "All good things come with time. Just had to get one more game in before winning you over. I'll see you after my set."

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Note: I originally got inspired from listening to Steal the Show by Lauv. since seeing Elemental a few months ago. I also have been obsessed with Sophia Carpenter's performances of Feather while she's been the opening act for Taylor Swift's Eras Tour in South America so my mind got a little creative haha

Hope you enjoyed it!!

[serendipitous-seven]

'i can hear him smile.' | jung hoseok x f!reader | a serendipitous life series

summary: you wonder why hoseok is so quiet since returning from tour... pairing: jh x f!reader [sunny] genre: family fluff, fluff, sweet-angst tags/warning: baby-related material such as breast-feeding, slight angst but it's not sad

a/n: i felt compelled to repost this fic particularly after seeing those clips of hobi expressing his loss of self <3 apologies for lack of posting, i was having issues with text posts have since resolved the issue *yay*

dad bts series

With a then newborn baby, the stillness surrounding your home becomes normal. Used to some kind of humming or background noise to help keep your sanity, hearing the creaks of the wood floors or walls settling around you no longer caused you to jump or to peer around the corner anticipating a masked intruder. ‘Honey, nobody can penetrate the security here.’ Hoseok would be quick to settle your anxiety.

Smiling to yourself, you rearrange the flowers for the umpteenth time, mostly admiring them. A bouquet of red roses gifted by your husband. Returning from an 8-month-long tour with a tired smile and eager arms to hold you and your son. Oh, how Hoseok’s heart ached when he had to leave a then two-month-old Huimang and you, a new mother to care for it all on your own. Of course, your families and a few close friends gathered around you, some teaching you the ins and outs of parenthood while the rest ventured this unknown path with you.

You cried - a lot, laughed when Huimang nearly peed on you as you changed his diaper for only the third time alone since Hoseok left for North America. Just on the cusp of sleep while feeding your son only to be awoken by your friend, sore parts to boot, and a baby drunk from milk.

Hoseok made sure to call every single night after a show or signing. On his days off, he’d dedicate several hours of those days to spending time with you and Huimang over FaceTime. His phone stayed on the charger while he watched you move about your day, swimming in the sound of Huimang’s soft coos and even shrill cries. Noticing the way you kept it together the hours your son was awake. Finally at night, when Huimang was fast asleep, you’d appear with tearful eyes before your husband. Willing yourself to stop. It was all he could do to soothe you with words, wishing with all his being to be by your side. To cradle you, mend you, and reassure you with his physical presence.

‘You are doing such a great job, my love,’ Hoseok would tell you this over and over. Blinking, you come to again. Vibrant red petals illuminated by the bright sun streaming in through the ceiling-to-floor window. It’s nearly 2 PM, and Huimang should be stirring from his first nap in need of feeding. You skim the walls with your fingertips as you make your way to the bedroom where you left your sleeping baby, a warm smile touching your face as soon as you open the door.

Hoseok lays next to Huimang and you can’t help but giggle, surprised to find him in the same position as you left the two of them hours ago. The sun warms his back as he strokes Huimang’s cheek, running his slender finger down his little button nose, stopping to place his fingertip over your baby’s lips. Hoseok’s pink lips stretch with the slightest smile as he stares down at his son. He kisses his fingertip before putting it lightly against Huimang’s. You make yourself known to which Hoseok understands it’s time for Huimang to eat. He rubs his round belly, your son’s eyes already fluttering open. He whines for the moments until you are sat in bed, Hoseok placing him in your arms with the C-shaped pillow placed around you to help carry the baby‘s weight while he feeds from you.

He stays with the two of you, a hand glued to your son at all times. You smile at his soft caresses, stifling a laugh as Huimang’s eyes roll back in pure ecstasy. Food and papa’s touches; what more could a baby want? Unlike the other times, Hoseok returns with much to say, you note his silence. Resting your head back on the headboard, observing him while he watches the baby, a litter of hearts covering his dark eyes. He peers over at you for a moment, leaning in for a few kisses before moving back. He doesn’t say anything, he just watches. The day continues as lazy as ever. You welcome the noise of your baby and husband playing in the living room while preparing dinner. You aren’t sure whose giggles make you want to burst more- Hoseok’s or Huimang’s. Once again, you laugh by yourself at the jovial sounds filling your home. Dinner is had and before you know it, the late hour has crept in. You shut off the lights room by room, checking in on sleeping Huimang before moving to your bedroom for the night. Readying yourself for bed, your eyes fall over Hoseok as you move about. Discreet as you watch him when you collect your pajamas from the walk-in closet and then from the bathroom vanity, door ajar, a perfect view of him laying in bed staring up at the ceiling. He hardly stirs when you finally make it to bed, applying a little bit of cream on your hands before shutting your light off. It’s only then does he show signs of life despite his gentle breathing being enough of an indication, turning his light off. Before he can settle under the covers you run your hand down the length of his arm, laying it in his palm.

Hoseok turns and the two of you lay to face each other, his hand now grasped around yours, he brings it up to press a single kiss on your knuckles. You smile, feeling his soft hair through your fingers, “you’ve been so quiet since coming home.” His stare is longing, content but even a little melancholy. In the darkness of your bedroom, you see a sheen spread across his eyes. You move to press your palm against his cheek. “It’s so loud while we tour,” his voice is so deep, exhausted likely still needing to recover from the strain his body undergoes during those months, “I enjoy it of course; yelling into the microphone to thousands, jumping around, laughing, hearing them cheer at us…” A stillness falls over the two of you once again. From the baby monitor now set on Hoseok’s nightstand, you can hear Huimang snoring lightly, humming in short breaths. Is he dreaming? You notice Hoseok’s eyes are closed again but a look of utter euphoria has taken over his expression; “I like this new quiet we have at home, I long to come home to it now,” he opens them and finds you immediately, “I can hear him after not being able to for so long. I can even hear his smile. Then I can hear you giggling to yourself from the kitchen-“ he teases you. You roll your face into the pillow only to be brought back by your husband. He moves closer to kiss you. You steep in the feel of his deep chuckle against your lips, how thoughtfully he wraps his hand around your jaw.

Chasing after his lips when he pulls away, he gives in for a few more moments with you, holding you close. After a while you rest your face against Hoseok’s chest, keeping a hand on his cheek and stroking his soft skin with your thumb while he cases his arms around you, rubbing your back. Hoseok hums contentedly, taking in the silence and comforts of your home together. His family. You smile, taking in the feeling of your husband finally holding you after so many months. You listen to the sounds he longs for, ironically the silence he longs for. Huimang lost deep in sleep, it sounds different now. Knowing your husband is soothed by it, likely falling under it as if it’s a lullaby meant only for him.

[keehomania]

feel the rhythm (리듬 느껴) – jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

to dance is to transcend the boundaries of the mundane, where each movement becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of existence. it's an unspoken language, a symphony of the body that speaks directly to the soul. the subtle arch of a back, the delicate glide of a hand, the powerful leap into the air—all gestures that come together to form an intimate dialogue between the dancer and the rhythm that guides them. time ceases to matter, and the dancer becomes both the painter and the painting, expressing emotions that words could never capture. it reveals the deepest truths of the human spirit, inviting all who witness it to feel, to dream, and to connect.

it was impossible to dance without feeling—the music, the emotions awoken—everything. everything mattered. all the greats knew it, whether it was michael jackson or lee taemin, they enjoyed what they did and they perfected it, because they knew how to feel. each note of the music was a heartbeat, each beat a call to move, to express, to live within the moment. the floor beneath their feet became a sanctuary, a sacred space where they poured out their souls, leaving a piece of themselves with every step. this was not just performance; it was raw, unfiltered emotion made visible. to dance was to connect with something larger, something profound. it was an unending pursuit of grace and power, a testament to the beauty of human expression.

“you're bending your knees too much,” you never meant to come off as strict or demanding. in fact, you wanted to do quite the opposite, but you liked to push him. you liked to push him, because you knew he was a natural talent. you knew it, he knew it—everybody knew it. you had been by the group's side ever since their debut; eleven years of choreographing their songs, eleven years as not just the woman who planned out their dances, because you were practically family to them.

there was no favoritism, either. you made sure to work as a team, to push their limits as a whole. you loved them the same and made sure never to critique one member more than the rest, you knew just how to play fair. hoseok just happened to be their best dancer, and everybody was well aware of it. sure, all of them could work with the same choreographies, but none of them could execute them the way he did. it was a matter of passion, above all else. he never flaunted it; in fact, he was too humble. it was one of his most infuriating traits.

his eyes dropped to his knees, flickering between his pose and yours, paying close attention to what he had previously missed. “just a little bit, you see?” he watched your form carefully, noticing the way you put the slightest of pressure on your knees, bending them to the point where it was barely noticeable, before transitioning into the next step. this time, it was your turn to watch. he kept his eyes glued, moving with grace. this time, he did it just right.

“good job, just like that,” you had found yourself showering him with praise. most of the time, you did it because it was well-deserved. sometimes, you did it just to see the smile on his face. like the one he had on just then, it made you smile, too. “again,” you instructed, stepping back to give him room. “from the top.”

hoseok nodded, a small smile lingering on his lips as he reset his position. the music started, and his body moved with the fluidity and precision you had come to expect from him. every step, every turn, every isolated movement was a testament to his dedication and raw talent. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him to perfect every detail. as he danced, you felt a familiar warmth spread through you—a mix of pride and something deeper, something you rarely allowed yourself to acknowledge. the way he danced was mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but be drawn in by his passion and intensity. it was as if the world faded away, leaving just the two of you and the rhythm that bound you together.

“perfect,” you said softly, as the music came to an end. he was breathing hard, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, but his eyes were bright and focused. “thanks,” he replied, a hint of bashfulness in his smile. “your guidance always makes a difference.”

you walked closer, your footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent studio. “you're the one who makes the difference, hoseok. i can only point the way; you're the one who brings it to life.” there was a moment of silence, charged with an unspoken tension. you could see it in the way his eyes lingered on yours, in the way his breath hitched slightly as you approached. it was subtle, but it was there—an intensity that went beyond the dance.

“you make it easy to feel,” he said quietly, his gaze unwavering. “the way you understand the music, the way you push us to connect with it—it's like you see inside us.” your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. you had always pushed yourself to understand each member, to help them find their own connection to the choreography. but with him, it had always been different, deeper.

“it's because you let me,” you replied just as quietly. “you let me see the real you when you dance. it's a gift, hoseok, and it's beautiful.”

the intensity in his eyes deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you crackled with energy. then he broke the gaze, looking down with a shy smile. “let's go again,” he said, but this time, his voice was softer, almost intimate. “let's,” you agreed, stepping back but feeling closer to him than ever.

he moved with the same grace and intensity, but now, each movement felt charged with an unspoken emotion, a palpable tension that neither of you could ignore. you mirrored his steps, guiding him with subtle cues and gentle corrections. the synergy between you was almost electric, and as the music swelled, it felt like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you and the rhythm that bound you.

the song neared its climax, and you watched him closely, noting the slight adjustments he made, the way his body responded to the music with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. you couldn't help but be mesmerized by him, by the way he embodied every beat, every note. it was as if you were dancing with the very essence of the music itself.

as the final notes faded, you found yourself breathless, not just from the physical exertion, but from the intensity of the connection you had just shared. hoseok's eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was about to say something, something that could change everything.

before he could speak, the studio door swung open, and a voice broke the spell. “hoseok!”

you turned to see lee bona, his girlfriend, standing in the doorway. she was beautiful, with an effortless elegance that made her presence commanding. you had met her a few times, but it was clear she wasn't fond of you. the way she looked at you now, with thinly veiled jealousy, made that abundantly clear. hoseok's expression softened as he saw her, and he immediately moved toward her, leaving you standing alone in the center of the studio. “bona, hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and affectionate.

she smiled at him, but there was a sharpness in her eyes when they flicked to you. “i thought i'd surprise you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. you forced a polite smile, trying to ignore the pang of discomfort that settled in your chest. “hi, bona.”

“hello,” she replied, her tone cool. she turned her attention back to hoseok. “ready to go?” he glanced back at you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “sorry, i have to go. we'll pick this up later?”

“of course,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “go ahead.”

he nodded and, with one last glance, left the studio with bona. as the door closed behind them, you stood there, the silence of the empty studio pressing in on you. you replayed the last few minutes in your mind, the intensity of the dance, the connection you felt, and then the abrupt interruption. how could he have a girlfriend and yet be so intimate with you? the thought twisted something inside you, a mix of frustration and confusion.

to clear your mind, you turned the music back on and started dancing again, but your movements were off, lacking the precision and grace you usually prided yourself on. the frustration bled into your dance, making each step feel jagged and unrefined. you could feel it in your body, the anger and disappointment seeping into your movements.

you didn't realize you had an audience until you heard a familiar voice. “you're dancing like you have two left feet,” namjoon teased from the doorway. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “how long have you been standing there?”

“long enough to see something's bothering you,” he said, walking into the studio with that easy, knowing smile of his. “got a hunch it might be hoseok's girlfriend.”

you scowled at him, trying to brush off the accusation. “it's like you want me to lose my job— strictly professional, joon.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “sure, if you say so. but your dancing says otherwise.” you wanted to argue, to defend the professionalism you always upheld, but you knew he was right. the emotions were too raw, too close to the surface. “it's complicated.”

namjoon gave you a sympathetic look. “i get it. but you know, taking a break might help. we've got the next few days off, and we're heading to a bar tonight. you should come.” you hesitated, the thought of socializing feeling overwhelming right now. but his smile was encouraging, and you knew he was right—you needed to clear your head. “alright, i'll come.”

“good,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “we'll see you tonight then. and hey, try not to think about it too much. things have a way of working themselves out.” you nodded, watching as he left the studio. alone again, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. namjoon was right. for now, all you could do was dance, let the music guide you, and hope that the rest would fall into place.

the evening came, and you prepared for a night out, hoping that some time away from the studio might clear your head. you put on a simple but stylish outfit, something that would let you blend in yet still feel confident. the bar wasn't too far from the studio, so you made your way there, your thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and confusion.

as you entered the bar, you immediately spotted the group. they had secured a large table in a corner, and you made your way over, greeting each of them with a forced smile. the atmosphere was lively, the air filled with chatter, laughter, and the hum of background music. it felt like a world apart from the quiet intensity of the studio, but the tension you carried with you seemed to cling, regardless.

hoseok was already there, seated with his girlfriend by his side. his eyes met yours as you approached, and for a split second, the world seemed to shrink around you. there was something electric in his gaze, a reminder of the connection you had shared earlier. but it was quickly broken when taehyung, always quick with a compliment, spoke up.

“so, your performance with taemin?” taehyung’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “it's an understatement to say you killed it.”

the table erupted in praise, with jimin and yoongi both chiming in to agree. the enthusiasm was palpable, and you managed a genuine smile, though the praise felt hollow. you were used to being recognized for your work, but the absence of hoseok’s usual support stung more than you had anticipated.

jungkook, ever the tease, leaned in with a smirk. “so, what’s the deal with taemin? you two seem pretty close. maybe more than just coworkers?” you laughed it off, the sound feeling forced. “no, it’s nothing like that. we just have a good working relationship, that’s all.”

hoseok’s silence was almost palpable, and it was unlike him. normally, he would have been the first to voice his support or offer a playful comment. instead, he stayed quiet, a tight-lipped expression on his face that made you feel uneasy. then, to your dismay, he finally spoke up with a tone that felt almost accusatory. “she isn’t crazy; that would be totally unprofessional.”

the words stung more than you expected, cutting through you with a sharpness that made you flinch. you forced a nod and tried to mask your disappointment. without saying another word, you excused yourself and made your way to the bar itself, desperately needing a drink to calm your nerves.

you ordered something strong, hoping it would dull the edge of your hurt. as you waited, you could feel hoseok’s eyes on you, even from across the room. it was a constant reminder of the tension that seemed to hang between you like a thick fog.

namjoon noticed your departure and followed you to the bar. he joined you as you sipped your drink, his presence both a comfort and a distraction. “you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but perceptive. you managed a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “yeah, just needed a break.”

he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t push. instead, he leaned in, a glimmer of an idea in his eyes. “you know, i think i might have something that could take your mind off things. my friend wonho is working on a solo track, and he needs help with the choreography. would you be interested in collaborating with him?”

you hesitated, the thought of diving into a new project both appealing and daunting. but the distraction might be exactly what you needed. “i’d love to,” you said finally, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “thank you for thinking of me.”

namjoon’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a quick hug. “you're our girl, dancing's your thing. of course i'd ask you.”

as you made your way back to the table, your mind was already spinning with ideas for wonho’s track. you knew that this was a chance to refocus, to move forward from the confusion and disappointment of the evening. and although the night was far from over, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to balance the complexity of your feelings with the passion for your craft.

the next day, the dance studio was alive with activity. the boys were immersed in practice, their movements synchronized in a display of impressive skill and energy. you were usually a central part of these sessions, but today, your absence was noticeable. hoseok seemed particularly restless. his eyes darted to the door every few seconds, as if expecting you to walk in at any moment. it was clear that your absence was affecting him more than he let on. he performed each step with a certain rigidity, a subtle but noticeable contrast to his usual fluidity.

namjoon, who was busy adjusting the playlist, finally broke the silence. “just so you all know, (y/n) is working with wonho on his solo track today. she’s helping him with the choreography.”

the announcement was met with a chorus of supportive remarks and curious glances. taehyung and jin voiced their encouragement enthusiastically, while yoongi and jungkook nodded in approval. however, hoseok’s reaction was markedly different. he remained silent, his face betraying a hint of something—perhaps jealousy or frustration. his movements, which had been sharp and precise before, now seemed to lack the usual confidence, as if he was struggling to find his rhythm without your presence.

the practice session dragged on, and it became increasingly apparent that hoseok was out of sync, his performance reflecting the internal turmoil he was evidently experiencing. the studio buzzed with energy, but his mood cast a shadow over the atmosphere.

back in wonho’s studio, the environment was different—intimate and focused. he was a striking presence, his muscular build and handsome features adding to the allure of the space. the track he played was a vibrant, engaging mix of beats and melodies, capturing your attention immediately. as you listened, the rhythm sparked a flurry of ideas in your mind.

wonho, noting your engaged expression, smiled warmly. “so, what do you think?” you took a deep breath, trying to articulate your thoughts. “the track is amazing. it’s got this incredible energy, and i think it could really move people.”

he leaned in slightly, curiosity evident in his eyes. “is something on your mind? you look like you’re thinking about something more than just choreography.”

it was then that the lyrics of the song began to make themselves heard more clearly—romantic, heartfelt, and deeply personal. they spoke of love, longing, and vulnerability, and you couldn’t help but think of hoseok. the connection you had with him, the moments you shared, seemed to echo in the song’s verses, making your heart ache with an intensity you hadn’t anticipated.

seeing the change in your expression, wonho chuckled softly. “is the song that bad?” you shook your head quickly, trying to dispel any misunderstanding. “oh, no, not at all. it's actually beautiful. but the lyrics—you must really love the girl you wrote it for.”

his laughter was warm and knowing. “loved, actually. we all need our hearts broken at least once. it helps us understand the depths of emotion and fuels our craft.”

his words resonated with you. you had always known that art and emotion were deeply intertwined, but hearing it from someone who had clearly experienced such passion and pain firsthand struck a chord. you pondered his insight, considering how heartbreak and longing were universal experiences that shaped the art of dance just as much as they did music.

“thanks for sharing that,” you said, a touch of gratitude in your voice. “it’s really insightful.” he nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. “of course. it’s all part of the journey. now, let’s get to work on this choreography. i’m excited to see what we can create together.”

as the day wore on, the intensity of your focus in wonho's studio created a palpable buzz of creativity. the music played, its infectious beat filling the space with an energy that pushed you to explore new movements and ideas. you felt a deep sense of connection with the track, and as you freestyled, you let your body respond to the rhythm naturally.

the studio was a sanctuary, its large mirrors reflecting your every move as you danced. you moved with fluidity and passion, the music guiding your steps as you interpreted the emotions of the song. each movement seemed to flow effortlessly into the next, and you could see that he was mesmerized by your performance. his eyes followed you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity, clearly impressed by the way you embodied the music.

as the track continued, you paused to catch your breath and turned to wonho. “when i listen to this song, i see a story unfolding—you can really tell you put your heart into it.” he nodded, absorbing your words. “that’s exactly what i hoped for with this track. i’m glad it’s coming across that way.”

he took a deep breath and stepped onto the floor, beginning to dance to the music. his movements were solid but lacked the fluidity you had come to expect from him. there was a hint of hesitation in his steps, as if he was holding back. “i’m sorry if my dancing isn’t up to par,” he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. “i’m just trying to match the energy of the track, but i feel like it’s not quite there.”

you watched him with a critical eye but offered a reassuring smile. “no, it’s not shabby at all. your movements are strong and controlled, and you have a natural rhythm that really complements the song. it’s just a matter of getting more comfortable with the dance. you’ve got a lot of potential.”

his face brightened at your praise, and he seemed to find a new confidence in your words. with renewed determination, he threw himself into the dance with greater enthusiasm, his movements becoming more expressive and in tune with the music. it was clear that your encouragement had a significant impact on him, and the energy in the room shifted to a more dynamic and creative flow.

as the hours passed, you continued to work closely with him, shaping the choreography and refining the details. you found yourself deeply engaged in the process, enjoying the collaborative effort and the creative synergy that flowed between you. with each passing moment, the choreography began to take shape, the intricate movements and transitions coming together to create a compelling visual narrative.

by the end of the day, you had crafted a substantial majority of the choreography. the routine was vibrant and expressive, capturing the essence of his track while allowing room for individual interpretation. both of you were satisfied with the progress, and the atmosphere in the studio was one of accomplishment and mutual respect.

as you wrapped up, he turned to you with a warm smile. “thank you so much for your help today. i couldn’t have done this without you.” you returned his smile, feeling a genuine sense of satisfaction. “it was my pleasure. the track is incredible, and it was great working with you on this.”

his gratitude was evident as he stepped forward and gave you a hug. the embrace lingered a bit longer than you might have expected, but you could sense his appreciation and warmth. for a moment, you found yourself enveloped in his presence, the hug carrying an unexpected intensity.

when he finally pulled back, you smiled at him, trying to keep the moment light. “why don’t you come to the studio tomorrow? we can show namjoon and the boys the dance. i think they’d love to see it.” wonho’s eyes lit up with excitement. “that sounds great! i’d love to. thanks for the invitation.”

you exchanged a few more pleasantries and packed up your things, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. the collaboration with him had been both invigorating and rewarding, and you looked forward to sharing the results with namjoon and the rest of the team. he had done you a favor, successfully giving you the perfect distraction.

the next day, the studio was bustling with activity as the boys prepared for their practice session. the atmosphere was filled with anticipation and excitement, not just for the usual routines but also for the special showcase you had promised. as you walked into the studio with wonho by your side, the energy in the room shifted. the boys, who had been engrossed in their own discussions, looked up and greeted you with enthusiastic smiles.

“hey, everyone! i’m excited to introduce you all to wonho,” you announced with a bright smile. “he’s been working on a solo track, and we’ve put together some choreography that we’d love to share with you.”

namjoon’s eyes lit up with genuine interest as he walked up to his friend, greeting him with a smile. “awesome! can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”

the rest of the boys gathered around, their expressions ranging from curiosity to eagerness. all of them were practically animated, their faces practically glowing with anticipation. they exchanged excited glances, while the atmosphere felt charged with a positive buzz. hoseok, however, stood apart from the group, his posture rigid and his expression noticeably cold. it was evident that he was struggling to mask his jealousy. he avoided eye contact, his gaze fixed on the floor as if deep in thought. his mood was palpable, casting a subtle shadow over the otherwise upbeat environment.

with everyone’s attention now focused on the dance floor, you and wonho took your places. the music started, and as the track played, you began to move with a fluidity that matched the rhythm. he followed your lead, his movements synchronized with yours in a dance that was both captivating and dynamic. the choreography was intricate, a blend of powerful movements and tender moments. as the routine progressed, you felt the connection between you and him deepening, the dance becoming a dialogue of its own.

the final segment of the routine featured a particularly intimate move, a moment where wonho’s face came close to yours, his arm wrapped around your waist while your arm rested around his neck. it was a close, personal space that spoke volumes without the need for words.

as you and him executed the move, the rest of the boys erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement evident. the clapping and shouting filled the studio, a testament to the impact of the performance. however, hoseok remained unmoved. he watched the dance with a look of barely contained irritation, his expression darkening as the routine came to its climactic end.

when the final beat of the track echoed through the studio, wonho pulled away with a grin, clearly pleased with the reaction. you joined in the applause, your heart racing from the intensity of the performance. the boys continued to cheer, their enthusiasm unwavering.

it was in that moment that you noticed hoseok’s abrupt departure. he slipped out of the studio quietly, his departure almost unnoticed by the others who were still caught up in the excitement of the moment. the change in atmosphere was subtle but undeniable—his absence left a void, a silence that seemed to seep into the corners of the studio.

unable to shake off the uneasy feeling, you excused yourself from the group and stepped out into the hallway. the corridor was quiet, the distant hum of the studio music a faint echo against the walls. you followed the path hoseok had taken, your footsteps soft against the polished floor.

when you found him, he was leaning against the wall, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable. he was close to the door, and the hallway was dimly lit, casting shadows that seemed to enhance the tension in the air. “hoseok,” you called out softly, approaching him with a concerned look. “is everything alright?”

he didn’t immediately respond, his gaze fixed ahead, avoiding your eyes. the silence stretched between you, filled with an intensity that was almost palpable. the air seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken emotions. you took another step closer, your voice tinged with worry. “is something wrong? you left so suddenly.”

he turned his head slightly, his face close to yours but still distant. the coldness in his demeanor was striking, a stark contrast to the warmth of the studio. “i have to go,” he said, his voice low and edged with finality.

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that left you momentarily speechless. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between the emotions he was trying to hide and the reality of the situation. there was a distance between you, both physical and emotional, that felt almost unbearable.

before you could say anything further, he pushed off the wall and turned away, walking briskly down the hallway. his footsteps echoed in the silence, a sound that seemed to resonate with the intensity of the moment. you watched him leave, feeling a mix of confusion and frustration. the confrontation had been brief, but it left a lingering sense of unease. the hallway felt colder now, his absence creating a void that was difficult to fill.

hoseok stepped out of the studio, the cool air of the evening brushing against his face. the weight of the conversation with you lingered in his mind, intertwining with the knowledge of his upcoming meeting. he glanced at his phone, the message from bona still visible on the screen. she had asked him to meet her at a nearby coffee shop, a request he couldn’t ignore despite his current state of emotional turmoil.

he walked briskly through the quiet streets, his thoughts consumed by the unresolved feelings between you and the burden of his relationship. the coffee shop was a cozy, dimly lit place, a stark contrast to the chaos of his mind. as he approached, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before entering.

she was already seated at a corner table when he arrived. her face lit up with a smile as she saw him, but the joy in her eyes quickly faded when she noticed the tension in his posture. hoseok forced a smile as he joined her, slipping into the chair across from her. “hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual. “hey,” she replied softly, her eyes searching his face for some sign of what was troubling him. “i'm glad you could make it.”

they sat in silence for a few moments, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. hoseok’s thoughts were racing, but he tried to focus on the present. he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small box, placing it gently on the table between them. it contained the necklace he had bought for her, a symbol of their relationship that now felt like an anchor weighing him down.

her eyes fell on the box, and she reached for it with trembling hands. her fingers traced the delicate chain as she opened the box and saw the necklace inside. there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes, and she took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“i’ve been thinking a lot lately. about us. And I don’t know how to say this, but,” her voice broke, and tears began to well up in her eyes. “i think it’s time for us to break up.”

his heart sank, but he remained stoic, his face a mask of calm. the news was not unexpected, yet it still felt like a blow. he had long sensed the disconnect, and although he had wanted to avoid the confrontation, he knew deep down that this was a resolution he had been avoiding. he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of resignation and relief. “it isn't the same anymore, i know,” he said quietly, his voice steady. he did know, and he knew how bad he had wanted out of the relationship—he just didn't want to hurt her. “i know.”

she looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. the silence between them was charged, but hoseok knew it was time to act. he stood up, walked around the table, and gently placed the necklace around her neck. the gesture was tender but lacked the warmth it might have once held. it was a final act of kindness, a way to end things on a note of respect.

as he stepped back, he saw the tears streaming down her face. he offered a faint, almost bittersweet smile before turning to leave. his steps were purposeful and steady, but inside, his mind was elsewhere. the thoughts of you, the dance, and the unresolved feelings he harbored for you filled his mind, pushing out any remnants of his prior relationship.

leaving the coffee shop, he felt a peculiar sense of liberation. it wasn’t joy, but rather a profound relief—a space now open for him to confront his own feelings and desires. the end of his relationship with was, in a twisted way, the best gift she could've given him. it was an opportunity to pursue what he truly wanted, what he truly felt.

the studio was a haven of solitude and focus as you danced alone. the space was dimly lit, the lights casting long shadows that accentuated the precision of your movements. the choreography you were working on was demanding, a complex sequence of steps that required both grace and strength. you moved effortlessly, your body translating the intricate patterns of the dance into a fluid expression of emotion. each step, each turn, was executed with a blend of determination and elegance, a testament to your skill and dedication.

unbeknownst to you, hoseok was watching from outside the studio, his eyes fixed on your every movement. he stood in the doorway, hidden from view but captivated by the sight of you dancing. the way you moved, the passion you poured into the performance—it all stirred something deep within him. it was a mixture of admiration, longing, and a pang of jealousy that he tried to suppress.

as you reached a particularly challenging part of the routine, you heard the faintest sound of the studio door opening. hoseok’s presence was undeniable now, and his gaze was intense as he watched you. you didn’t notice him at first, lost in the rhythm and the demands of the choreography. but as you completed the segment, you turned to find hoseok stepping into the studio.

wonho was at your side almost immediately, having come to watch your performance. he greeted him with a friendly nod. “hey, hoseok. we were just working on the new choreography. what brings you here?” his response was curt, his tone cold. “i came to see if i could run the dance with her.”

wonho looked taken aback by the abruptness but managed a polite smile. “sure, we were just wrapping up. it’s all yours.” hoseok's eyes bore into his with a fierce intensity, a silent assertion of his claim. wonho, though taken aback, took a step back and watched as you and hoseok prepared to dance together. the tension between them was palpable, and you could sense the shift in the atmosphere.

as you began to dance, the room seemed to hold its breath. hoseok’s movements were sharp and precise, his focus entirely on you. his performance was impeccable, matching the grace and intensity of your own. the chemistry between you two was undeniable, the dance becoming an almost intimate exchange. he kept his gaze locked on wonho throughout, a clear message that you were his and his alone. the intensity of his stare was enough to make him shift uncomfortably, though he tried to maintain his composure.

when the dance ended, wonho clapped, his expression a mix of admiration and envy. “what was impressive. you both make a great team,” as if calculated, he turned to you, awaiting your answer, not hoseok's. “would you be available for a deeper discussion about the track over lunch? i’d love to get more insight.”

you were about to respond positively when hoseok interjected, his voice firm. “actually, she won’t be able to make it. we have practice scheduled.” you looked between the two of them, caught in the middle of their silent rivalry. “hoseok, we can work something out—”

before you could finish, he cut you off again. “we have a tight schedule, and it’s important that we stick to it.”

wonho’s expression darkened slightly, but he nodded, understanding the implicit challenge. “alright, if you're able to reschedule, just let me know.” you turned to hoseok, frustration evident on your face. “can we talk outside for a moment?”

without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the studio, hoseok following closely behind. the corridor was quieter, a stark contrast to the energy of the dance floor. you faced him, your voice steady but concerned. “what’s going on with you?” you asked. “you’ve been acting like an asshole. what’s this really about?”

his eyes softened as he looked at you. there was a mix of vulnerability and resolve in his gaze. “i just broke up with bona,” he admitted, his voice low. “it’s been complicated, but i needed to be honest with myself and with you.”

you hid your surprise, maintaining a sympathetic demeanor. “i’m sorry to hear that. i hope it’s not too hard on you.” he shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. “it’s actually a good thing. it means i can focus on what i really want. and that’s where you come in.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tender gesture. his gaze lingered on you, his face inches from yours. the moment was charged, the air between you filled with unspoken words and emotions. hoseok leaned in, his lips almost brushing against yours, when a voice interrupted from down the hallway.

“hey, do you have a minute for another session?”

it was wonho, his timing impeccable and his presence unmistakable. you pulled away from hoseok, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. his expression darkened slightly, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “sure, won. let’s head back.”

as you re-entered the studio with him, hoseok’s gaze followed you, a simmering tension in his eyes. the dynamic between you, him, and wonho had shifted, and the complexity of the situation was far from resolved. the dance session resumed, but the lingering emotions and unresolved feelings created an undercurrent that was impossible to ignore.

the weeks that followed were filled with a growing intensity between you and hoseok. the studio was a place where the boundary between professionalism and personal emotions often blurred. amidst the choreography, rehearsals, and performances, the subtle tension between you and him became increasingly unbearable.

in the studio, when no one was looking, his gestures grew more intimate. during breaks, you’d find his hand brushing against yours under the table, fingers grazing lightly, creating an almost electric connection. there were moments when he’d hug you from behind, his presence a comforting warmth against your back. his hand would rest casually on your waist or thigh, an unspoken claim that seemed to linger in the air.

one afternoon, you were both working on a new routine for his solo track. the studio was alive with the energy of the song, the beat driving the rhythm of your movements. you and hoseok were lost in the dance, the choreography blending seamlessly with the music. he was focused, his eyes locked on you as you both performed with fluidity and precision.

during a particularly intense sequence, his voice broke through the music, his tone low and sensual. “don’t dance with him,” he said, referring to the upcoming live performance with wonho. the statement was clear, and the possessiveness in his voice was unmistakable. you continued dancing, maintaining your composure. “i have to,” you replied, your voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. “it’s strictly business.”

his response was to pause in the middle of the choreography. the move positioned him behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive tenderness. his breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “i don’t like watching you dance with him, you’re strictly mine.”

the whispered words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the intensity of his emotions press against you. as you resumed the dance, the air between you was thick with unspoken promises and desires. the routine continued with an almost palpable tension, each movement more charged than the last.

in the final pose of the routine, you extended your leg gracefully, the culmination of the dance. hoseok was on his knees next to it, his fingers lightly caressing your skin. the touch was delicate, but it carried a depth of feeling that words couldn’t convey. the studio seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the faint echo of the music in the background.

you looked down at him, your heart racing as you spoke softly, “i promise i won’t dance with him like i dance with you.”

his eyes were filled with a mix of relief and desire. he nodded, his expression softening. without a word, he pressed a gentle kiss to your leg, his lips lingering for a moment. the touch was both intimate and reassuring, a silent confirmation of the bond between you. the kiss was a promise, a reminder of the connection you shared. as you both stood up and moved away from each other, the tension was still there, but it was now tempered with a mutual understanding.

the backstage area was a flurry of activity as you prepared for wonho’s live performance. the atmosphere was charged with excitement and anticipation. you adjusted your outfit—a striking ensemble designed to fit the theme of the performance. the costume revealed more skin than you were accustomed to, its daring cut and intricate design highlighting your every move. you made sure everything was in place, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves that accompanied such a public display.

as you finished the final touches, wonho appeared from behind the curtain. his presence was calm and collected, a stark contrast to the bustling energy around you. “ready to go?” he asked, his voice warm and encouraging. you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “ready.”

the two of you walked towards the stage, the muffled sounds of the audience growing louder as you approached. the curtains parted, revealing a sea of faces and bright lights. thousands of people filled the auditorium, their cheers and applause resonating through the air. you scanned the crowd, spotting your group near the front. they were all watching eagerly, their faces alight with enthusiasm—except for hoseok.

he was sat off to the side, his expression rigid and stoic. his eyes were fixed on you and wonho, but his gaze was anything but cheerful. the jealousy that coursed through him was palpable, a stark contrast to the smiles of his colleagues.

as the crowd's chatter began to die down, the lights dimmed, and the performance was set to begin. you took a deep breath, focusing on the routine ahead. the music started, and you and wonho moved in perfect synchronization, the choreography flowing seamlessly between you. his voice filled the space, each note perfectly timed with the dance steps.

the performance was a showcase of your skills, but it was also a demonstration of the chemistry between you and him. the dance was dynamic and energetic, punctuated by moments of close contact and intimate gestures. his tight shirt clung to his chest and biceps, accentuating his physique. his movements were confident, but it was the way he touched you—holding you, guiding you, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary—that drew the most attention from hoseok.

from the corner of your eye, you could see his reaction. his usual charm and warmth were replaced by a simmering anger. his gaze was locked on the stage, but it wasn’t just the performance he was watching—it was the way wonho’s hands roamed over you, the way his proximity seemed to be a direct challenge to his claim over you. every touch, every moment of contact between you and wonho was like a dagger to hoseok’s chest.

as the routine reached its climax, you and wonho moved into the final, scandalous pose. the dance ended with you in the same provocative position, his face inches from yours, his arms around your waist. the pose was intimate, the culmination of a performance designed to captivate and provoke. the audience erupted into applause, but hoseok’s reaction was a mix of rage and helplessness. his eyes were fixated on you, his frustration evident despite his attempt to mask it.

the performance concluded, and the stage lights faded. the curtain fell, and the roar of the audience’s approval became a distant echo. you and wonho took your final bow, sharing a brief, congratulatory hug before making your way backstage. the air was thick with the residue of the performance and the emotions it had stirred. as you walked offstage, you felt a mix of relief and apprehension. the adrenaline from the performance still buzzed in your veins, but you couldn’t shake the awareness of hoseok’s gaze. you hoped to catch a moment to speak with him, but his presence was as distant as it was intense. you could sense his eyes on you, even as you tried to avoid his gaze.

backstage, he remained apart from the group, his demeanor unchanged. his stoic expression spoke volumes, but it was his unyielding gaze that betrayed his inner turmoil. despite the applause and celebration, his focus was solely on you, and the jealousy he felt was a tangible force. the night had only just begun, and the emotions between you and him were far from settled. as you moved through the backstage area, the echoes of the performance lingered, and the complexities of your relationships became ever more entangled.

the studio was quiet after the performance, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioning. you were alone, stretching to ease the tension in your muscles from the demanding routine. the coolness of the studio floor felt soothing against your skin, and the large mirror reflected your exhausted yet satisfied expression. your body ached, but the relief of having completed the performance was refreshing.

as you reached up to stretch your arms, you could see the way your muscles shifted and relaxed in the mirror. you focused on your movements, trying to release the pent-up energy and stress from the evening. the studio was a familiar sanctuary, a place where you could regain your composure and reflect on the night’s events.

without warning, you felt a presence behind you. hoseok entered the studio, his steps almost silent against the floor. you didn't need to turn around to sense his mood; it was palpable. the air between you grew thick with tension, and you could almost feel the weight of his jealousy pressing down on you.

he approached you, his presence a definite contrast to the quiet calm of the studio. he pressed himself into your back, the warmth of his body sending a shiver down your spine. his touch was gentle, almost tender, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, but his words were anything but kind.

“did you enjoy yourself out there?” his voice was low, laced with a bitterness that contrasted sharply with the softness of his touch. his lips brushed against your neck, the kiss both soothing and provocative. “i saw you and wonho—very cozy, weren’t you?”

you tried to ignore the sting in his words, focusing instead on the soothing pressure of his kisses. “it’s all part of the performance,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. “you know it’s strictly business.”

his grip tightened slightly, his fingers splaying across your toned stomach. “strictly business? that’s what you call it?” he nuzzled closer, his breath warm against your neck. “you were practically in his arms. do you know how hard it is to watch someone else touch you like that?”

his words were a mix of jealousy and possessiveness, each comment a reminder of how much he cared—or how deeply his feelings were tangled with his frustrations. the contrast between his tender touches and bitter remarks was disorienting, making it difficult to decipher his true emotions.

“you know it’s not like that,” you said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the rising tension. “we had to execute the routine as planned. it’s professional.”

his kisses grew more insistent, his lips tracing along your neck and shoulder. “professional,” he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “you were so close, it looked more personal than professional. i couldn’t stand seeing him touch you like that.”

his hands roamed over your sides, his touch both comforting and charged with an undercurrent of frustration. “i'm the one who’s supposed to have that intimacy with you,” he murmured. “not him. and here i am, watching you dance with someone else, knowing you’re his for those moments. it drives me insane.”

you could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his emotions palpable in the way he held you. despite the sharpness of his words, there was a vulnerability in his touch, a hint of how deeply his feelings ran.

“it bothers you that much?” you asked softly, turning slightly to face him, though you kept your gaze on the mirror. “it’s part of the job, baby.” hoseok’s eyes met yours in the reflection, his expression a storm of emotions. “i can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice rough with frustration. “don't want anyone else around what's mine.”

his confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his emotions. you felt a pang of sympathy mixed with confusion. his possessiveness was clear, but so was his deep-seated affection. it was a complex, tumultuous blend that left you feeling conflicted. neither of you knew what to say, and not much else was left to say.

the lack of words was made up for almost instantly, as he finally found himself leaning in. he was pressed into your back, an arm snaked around your front as he brought his lips down onto yours. the intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, each touch and breath creating a charged atmosphere that was impossible to ignore. the silence was broken not by words but by the sudden, intense need that radiated from him.

the touch was gentle at first, a soft exploration that spoke volumes. but as the intensity of his emotions surged, the kiss deepened, becoming more fervent. his lips pressed against yours with a fervor that left no room for doubt about how much he cared. the kiss was all-consuming. hoseok's free hand slid up to cup your face, his fingers threading into your hair. he pulled you closer, his body molding against yours as if trying to erase any distance between you. the kiss was an urgent declaration, a way of communicating everything he couldn’t put into words.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you responded to the kiss. the heat of the moment was undeniable, the intensity of his feelings mirrored in the way he kissed you. his touch was both demanding and reassuring, a testament to the depth of his emotions.

as the kiss continued, it became a battle of passion and need. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could merge your very beings through this single point of contact. his arms tightened around you, lifting you slightly off the ground. the strength in his embrace was a stark contrast to the gentle caress of his thumb against your cheek. as your bodies melded together, you could feel the tension in the air thicken. the anticipation was unbearable, like the moment before a storm breaks. and just like that, the dam burst. his hands moved from your waist to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss even further. his tongue danced with yours, a silent promise of what was to come. the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat and the lingering aroma of the floor cleaner, creating a heady concoction that was uniquely him.

he propped you against the mirror, his position behind you remaining. you gasped at the coldness of the glass, hands pressed into it as you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror—so desperate, so lust-driven. his hands moved with the same precision and control he had when he danced, but now they were driven by something primal. he unhooked your bra, letting it fall away from your body like a forgotten accessory. his eyes never left yours as he cupped your tits from behind, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples.

you gasped, arching into his touch, and his smirk grew into a full-blown smile. he bent his head, taking one into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, as if trying to claim you fully through this most intimate of gestures. you moaned, your hands threading through his hair, urging him on.

he pulled away, his eyes dark with lust. he slid your panties down your legs, revealing your most sensitive spot to the cool air of the studio. he knelt between your thighs, his breath hot against the flesh of your ass. his tongue traced a line from the base of your spine to the apex of your thighs, making you shiver with anticipation. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if you were the sweetest treat he'd ever tasted. his mouth found your core as his hands gripped your ass, and his tongue began to work its magic, circling and flicking, driving you wild with need.

“he get to touch you like this, too?” he practically growled. you pressed your forehead into the glass as your mouth hung open, all you could do was moan. that quickly changed as he pulled away from your sticky cunt, hand flying against your ass as to punish you for your silence. “you better use your fucking words,” and you did.

“no, nobody,” you whimpered, legs quivering as his fingertips traced your folds, collecting the sticky substance that oozed down your thighs. “only you, hoseok.”

it was a good enough answer for him. while he pleasured you, he removed his own clothes, shedding them with the same urgency as he had yours. his muscles rippled in the spotlight, casting dramatic shadows across the studio walls. his eyes met yours in the mirror, the reflection revealing his own need, his own desire for you. he stood up, his arousal evident, and you reached for him, eager to return the favor. but he was already there, positioning himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“gotta be gentle, hobi, you're too fucking big,” you nearly begged, and it wasn't far from the truth. you knew it the minute you caught a glimpse in the mirror, the minute you felt his sticky, swollen tip in between your lips. he was so fucking big, hard and desperate for you. the way you pleaded only made him harder, his dick pulsating with need.

he watched your face in the mirror, forehead sweaty with your puffy lip tucked between your lips. he needed you—it pissed him off, how good you looked. all that raced through his mind was how good you looked, and how he wasn't the only one who thought so. “i'll think about it,” he lied.

with one swift motion, he pushed his dick past your folds, and you both gasped in unison. the feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, the pressure and the heat making you feel like you might shatter at any moment. he began to move as your pussy clenched around him, his hips driving into yours in a rhythm that mirrored the beating of your hearts. the sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by your moans and his grunts of pleasure. “too big, hobi,” you whined, earning a groan in response. your walls fluttered around him, milking his dick for all it had to offer as he drilled deeper into you.

his hand made its way past your tits, grabbing onto your throat as he continued pounding into you. his grip tightened as you moaned, fueling the fire with your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he watched it all, admiring your reflection—the way your tits bounced, the way his hand fit so fucking perfectly around your neck. “feel the rhythm, baby, come on,” he encouraged in your ear. “you can take it, be good for me.”

the mirror reflected your passionate embrace, allowing you to watch each other's expressions of ecstasy. hoseok's possessive gaze never wavered from yours, as if to remind you that in this moment, you were his and his alone. the dance studio had transformed into a place of raw, unbridled passion, and there was no room for anything else.

he was so close, you could tell by the way his free hand held onto your hip, biting into your ass as he used it to his advantage, filling your cunt up to the brim. “tell me where you want it, yeah?” he was eager, too eager, but so were you. you didn't know if it was the atmosphere, or the sheer love you felt, but something had possessed you right then and there. “inside,” you mewled, breathless as a string of moans followed. “inside my pussy, make me yours.”

your words had flipped a switch in him, and you both knew it. his hand released your throat, reaching for your hip as he pushed into your cunt harder than ever. each thrust grew more sloppy and desperate as the second passed, his tip caressing your most sensitive spot. he was close, and so were you.

the tension between you grew, a tight coil winding tighter with every thrust. your moans grew louder, echoing off the walls. hoseok's movements grew more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening. you could feel yourself approaching the edge, the world outside the studio forgotten. and as you reached the peak, your body went numb. you came with a loud moan, and he followed shortly after. he came just as loud, his cock twitching inside your sore cunt. you could feel the way his cum flooded you, thick ropes of seed filling you up to the brim.

for a second, he didn't pull out. he debated it. the warmth was comforting to him, as you had both turned the studio into something of your own. a different dance, a different art. he leaned in, slipping out of you as he did so, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “i like this performance a whole lot better.”

✧.*

a/n: writing mean!hoseok is so weird ngl anyway take a shot every time i say palpable!!!

[saturnnelahy]

Can I get a BTS reaction to their child (baby, like 1 or 2 year old) giggling and laughing to them looking at themselves in the mirror? I just saw this happening. The dad was pushing the cart close and far away from the mirror, and the kid was DYING of laughter

Hello whitefoxgirl, I loved your request, it gave me lots of good ideas!!!! But I'm going to have to split it into two parts because I'm very sick at the moment so it's very difficult to write, I promise to try and get the rest up as soon as I can!!! I hope you like it 💜💜

Just a Happy Day:

𝓜𝓲𝓷 𝓨𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓲:

Since the birth of your daughter with Min Yoongi you didn't have much free time and you didn't have a day to enjoy without the responsibility of taking care of a baby, your husband did as much as he could to help with everything, but it was still very tiring. Wanting to please her, he took a day off and after a lot of persuasion he managed to convince her to go out with her friends while he stayed at home to take care of Jiyeon, as the girl was already 10 months old and always remained calm and calm with her father. He decided to accept, despite the uncomfortable feeling of being away from his little girl. 

It was already getting dark when you returned with several bags of things you had bought for yourself and Jiyeon. Everything seemed quiet and very clean despite the few toys scattered around the living room and the large sofas, which was strange since there was always a little girl running around and filling the rooms with her sweet delicate voice and loud laughter that made your days happier.

As you climb the steps of the staircase leading to the second floor, you hear a low moan coming from one of the bedrooms, which catches your attention and makes you go up faster and try your best not to make a sound as you walk up to the door of the suite, you open the door just a little to peek at what they're both doing and you end up looking at the most adorable scene in the world. Yoong is with Jiyeon in his arms standing in front of the mirror playing together, he tilts his body so that his face disappears from the mirror and then returns to his previous position, letting out a "buh" that makes the girl laugh and clap her hands.

𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓗𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓸𝓴:

After a tiring morning cleaning the apartment where you lived with Hoseok and your 6-month-old daughter Yeonju, taking the opportunity to sort out some things to donate and the presents she had received the last time your husband's friends came to visit with their children, you decided to lie down on the sofa for a few minutes just to rest but ended up dozing off for a couple of hours because you were so tired. When you woke up it was already afternoon, the sun was low and your body was less sore, but you were no longer on the sofa but on the big bed in your bedroom. Looking sideways towards the huge closet with a large mirror on the door, you saw your daughter's baby carriage with the little girl clapping her hands and laughing loudly while her father appeared and disappeared from the mirror.

Hoseok hummed a tune as he jumped in front of the mirror and then away. Every time the man disappeared, the little girl let out a loud laugh and clapped her hands in excitement at the "magic" her father was performing, which made her father do it more and more enthusiastically. Until he noticed you looking and turned towards you, a little flushed.

- Look love, she loves watching me do magic - he said excitedly before going back to playing with her, only this time determined to make you laugh too.

𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷:

With a baby at home, it was hard to find a quiet place in the house other than the library where Namjoon went to think, read and work for a while, which he did at least once a day after making sure his wife didn't need him and spending a lot of time playing with little Jae, who was a mini copy of his father.

Today the man had been locked in the library for a few hours working on a new song, but he hadn't been able to make much progress on the track and was starting to get frustrated when he heard a knock on the door and saw his wife open the door showing only her face.

- Hi, honey, I know you're busy, but could you take a look at Jae for a few minutes for me? - Yn asks with a cute smile, Namjoon smiles and nods, going to the door to take the chubby baby from his wife's hands. Jae smiles excitedly and holds out his arms to his father.

Despite being a six-month old baby, Jae is big and strong, always hungry and making a mess, his little brown eyes sparkling with love every time he sees his father. Namjoon holds him in his arms and kisses his chubby cheek, smiling at him, but the happiness of father and son only lasts a few minutes before the little one starts to throw a tantrum, whimpering as he flaps his arms in irritation. The man tries everything to calm him down, but it seems impossible. The father walks with the baby in his arms while rocking him slightly but he continues to grumble, until the man passes in front of the mirror and the baby lets out a low chuckle but starts crying again when Namjoon turns away, realizing this he starts playing with Jae through the mirror while humming the song he was working on.

When yn returned to the room, he found them playing together and laughing with each other in an adorable scene, because both of them, apart from their looks, had very similar laughs. Namjoon always looked immensely radiant when he had his son in his arms, and it was impossible not to get emotional watching him.

Sorry for any mistakes, I hope you like it 💜

[persphonesorchid]

Constellations Of You - JHS

Summary: A new chapter of Him and You begins. He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of.

Genre: Est. Relationship, Fluff, smut (minors begone)

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Soft Dom Hoseok, he's a little bit mean. Unprotected sex, lots of pet names, uh Hobi puts his thumb in Mc's mouth at one point, hand on throat but not actually choking. Hoseok is soft as hell for MC and I'm gonna marry him or some shit.

Notes: Happy birthday to my man Hobi. Genuinely hope he's having a great day. Also I wrapped this fic up at like 2am this morning so if you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me!

Check out my other works- HERE

If you enjoy my content, please consider donating- Here

It’s cold, and somewhere on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness, Hoseok shifts closer to you out of habit. The arm he throws over you meets the chill of the air too soon, and he lifts his head away from where it’s tucked against your neck. Sleepily, he squints against the light of the rising sun, it’s not quite there, but it’s peaking through the crack in the curtains and annoyingly, right in his eyes.

Shifting a bit more, Hoseok realizes that it’s cold where his hand is because you’ve kicked the sheets away from you at some point. Though he could see the furrow of your brows and the telling curl of your spine against his front, where you’d drawn your knees up and close to your chest.

Sighing, Hoseok sits up, yawning as he tries to pull the covers from where it’s tangled at his legs and somewhere – somehow – under you. Successful, he fixes the covers over you and sinks back into the warmth of it when you relax.

You murmur something that sounds like his name, rolling over and tucking yourself against him. Your feet are cold against his shins, but Hoseok doesn’t mind too much despite the quiet swear he lets out.

He’s awake enough now, to stare at the bare wall on the other side of the room. There’s two rolls of wallpaper leaning in a corner because you’d decided against painting, boxes stacked on top of each other because you’d both done everything but unpack them yesterday.

There’s still a lot to do, but Hoseok would like to wait until the sky is blue and he’s not as tired.

“What time is it?” you ask, lips brushing against his collarbone. He slips his hand under the oversized jersey you wore, pressing his fingers into the warmth of your skin.

“Too early,” Hoseok sighs, “go back to sleep.” He hikes his leg over your hip as you get comfortable. Just as he settles, eyes drifting closed again, you call his name and he answers with a hum that rumbles in his chest.

“When does the furniture get here?” Your voice is quiet, and Hoseok knows you’re already on your way back to sleep. He is too, and his answer is equally quiet.

“’Round eight...”

When Hoseok wakes again, you’re gone and he’s hugging the covers. There’s a clang from somewhere down the hall and a soft swear that follows. Rubbing at his eyes, Hoseok sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed to swing his legs over the side.

He walks out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where you stand facing away from him. There’s a soft popping of eggs in the frying pan, bacon set aside on a napkin covered plate and the electric kettle is whistling. He knows better than to sneak up on you while you’re over the stovetop, so he waits until you’ve set the spatula aside.

Walking over, he wraps his arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder to peer into the frying pan. You startle still, giggling, you lightly pat his arm, “You scared me.”

Hoseok places a gentle kiss on your neck in apology, “Thought you heard me.”

“S’okay,”

Hoseok sways you gently in place, forehead against the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He’s content to just stand there, and if time freezes around him, he wouldn’t notice nor would it matter. In this moment where it’s just you and him and nothing can separate you both.

He’s waited a long time for this, for the mornings where he could wake next to you in a house you’d both made a home of. Even though, right now, it’s barely anything, a house full of your presence but lacking in memories. Something that will build in time. The space in which you’d share your highs and lows, when days would blend together on repeat and he’d lose track of them.

Hoseok could spend forever here, wrapped tightly in the little bubble of comfort. Where the scent of your coconut shampoo invades his senses and the warmth of you is a welcome sensation. He inhales softly, nose against your hair and presses a kiss where his lips could reach.

“I can’t do anything if you’re glued to me, Jay.” You chuckle, wiggling against him like a worm caught, but you don’t push him away. You turn the heat of the stove off with a quick movement of your fingers. You shift to the left and he moves with you, unwilling to separate by even a few inches. “Hoseok.”

Hoseok ignores the whine of his name, “Just pretend I’m not here.” He tightens his hold, only releasing when you whine louder.

Chuckling, he shuffles over to the kettle that’s long turned off, steam rising out of the pointed lip. The mugs you’d used last night were the only two in the cupboard overhead, and a half empty packet of instant coffee tucked into the corner. “Coffee or tea, babe?”

You look over at him, from where you’ve started cutting into an avocado. “Is the tea in the cupboard?”

Hoseok shakes his head, eyes darting to the boxes tucked in the far corner near the fridge behind you. “It's in there somewhere, I think.”

The face you make has him chuckling; he doesn’t want to go digging through the boxes anyway. He takes the mugs down, letting the dark grains of coffee roll on into them in even share. He pours less water in your mug, knowing that you’d put milk because there’s no creamer. Carefully, he takes the mugs over to the table and sets them down, the table that has two more chairs than needed but would be filled someday – one day.

You smile as you set the plates down, fingers reaching to dance at the back of his neck. Hoseok watches as you pour milk into your mug before you stick it into the microwave to bring back the heat it’s lost.

“What do we have to do today...besides unpacking everything?” Hoseok asks once you’ve settled opposite him, picking at the crust of his buttered toast.

You hum, “Grocery, and we have to replace the plates that broke yesterday. And the furniture’s supposed to be here soon.”

Nodding, you’d both spend the next ten minutes not doing much talking, mouths being busy otherwise. When finished, Hoseok does the clean up while you shower, and busies himself with unpacking the dishes. By the time you’re out, the mover’s truck is parked outside and for the next hour and a half, you and Hoseok decide how and where everything would go.

Distracted, for moments where you’d talk from different sides of the room, or doing silly dances to the hip-hop tracks coming from the stereo. And Hoseok, was more specifically distracted by you struggling to drag a large bag of drapes into the room from the hallway. You laugh as you stumble, deciding to stop and push instead of pull, the soft light from the sun coming in through the windows glows against the backdrop of your form.

“What color should we go with?” You ask, hands on your hips as you stare down into the open bag.

Long before, a good four or so years ago, Hoseok never had to worry about the ‘we’. He didn’t have to measure his actions to suit the cause and effect of another person, free to be who he was in all his lonesome. When he’d work and return to his apartment that was solely his. His own space in which he was content, where he’d cook only for himself, or didn’t have to worry when he left the toilet seat up in his half awake state.

When the framed pictures on his walls were of him and his friends, treasured moments that belonged only to them. Then, you came and that had to change, I became Us – a unit that took time to build upon and get used to. Suddenly, he wasn’t cooking for himself anymore, and he would put the toilet seat back down no matter how sleepy he was. The framed pictures on the walls never changed, only new ones were added, treasured memories that belonged only to you and him.

It wasn’t all easy, no relationship ever is. There were ups and downs, arguments where you’d both said things you hadn’t meant when anger and frustration persisted. Moments when it was better to just give each other space to cool off, and all would be forgiven after a long talk.

And there were moments where Hoseok felt like he was floating somewhere above the clouds. So high up, tethered to earth by a string that wound itself around your wrist. Sometimes he worried, in late nights after a particularly bad fight and too much whisky, that you’d cut him loose one day and he’d come crashing down like a comet. You never did, though, you’d only hold tighter to the string that kept you both.

Hoseok walks over to you, you’re digging through the bag, pulling out different shades of lighter curtains to get to the drapes at the bottom. He lays his palm against your lower back, fingers dipping under the edge of the sweater you’ve taken out of his side of the closet. You hum in question, straightening against him. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Maybe.” Hoseok smiles, letting his hand roam around to the soft expanse of your tummy and leaves it there. “I don’t need anything, just love you.”

“I love you, too?” Your brows furrow and you chuckle out your confusion. In all his dramatics and flare, Hoseok pulls away from you, a hand pressed against his chest as though wounded.

“A question?” he gasps, “Doth the fair maiden not share the same sentiments?”

“Oh, God. Never say that again.” You turn to face him, a laugh on your exhale, but you go along with it anyway; never one to deny him. “A rash assumption, Sir Jung.”

On your toes you tip, and Hoseok meets you halfway when he leans for your sake, expecting the kiss that you brush so lightly against his lips with a sweet hum. “I love you too, silly.”

Hoseok is reaching for you, but you slip away too quickly, free from the grasps of his hands you nudge the bag at your feet. “Now if you would be so kind. Help me pick a color.”

“Should we get this?”

You’re a little ways away from Hoseok, where he’s manning the shopping cart filled with groceries. You’re standing near the freezers, a box of ice-cream pops in your hand. You’re not looking at him though, instead, pondering the different flavors in your sight.

Hoseok wheels the cart and sets it to the side and out of anyone’s way. You’ve long run through the list of essentials, now, Hoseok’s only trailing behind you as you ask his opinion on random things you wanted. “If you want, yeah.”

He looks at the flavors too, and picks up a box that marketed a pistachio flavor. You glance at it and make a face, “It's not that bad,” he chuckles, taking your plain chocolate and placing them both in the cart.

By the time you’re out of the grocery and on the drive back home, it’s almost four pm. Most of the morning and early afternoon was spent organizing the house, and a late lunch left you both behind on getting everything done.

With the indicator ticking rhythmically, Hoseok turns onto the neighborhood street. You lean forward in your seat, squinting, “Is that Seokjin’s car?”

It was, and once Hoseok parked in the driveway, he’d found his friends sitting on the sidewalk. Hugs and congratulatory greetings were shared, Jungkook is holding a stack of pizza boxes, a couple more than Hoseok thinks they’d be able to run through. Seokjin’s complaining about the crick in his neck that he acquired and blames on the length of time he’d spent driving over.

Namjoon and Yoongi are standing a little ways off to the side of the group, both laughing at the fact that they’ve brought the same bottle of whisky. Jimin’s clinging to Hoseok’s frame, saying that he missed him too much even though he’d seen him the day before in the city. Taehyung’s trying to get everyone to quiet down, camera in hand and wanting to take a photo.

So you all stand there once Taehyung has the camera on the tripod and they all surround you both, with smiles and peace signs. A photo that would be framed to put somewhere in the living room. And you all clamber inside, out of the cold before Yoongi could start to complain about it. A housewarming get together that was entirely unplanned, but not unwelcome.

When the sun pulled the moon into the sky, and the pizza boxes were surprisingly empty, the boys said their goodbyes at the door. Wandering off to Seokjin and Yoongi’s cars with promises of visiting as often as their time allows.

You and Hoseok called an early night, after you’d both washed the day away. He’d left you to settle into bed while he locked the doors and windows. Eyes wandering around the space that was previously open, now comforting, and with a memory that’s on its way to sinking into the walls.

Hoseok makes his way up the stairs, after making sure he’d left the kitchen light on because you wouldn’t be comfortable if all the lights are out. He finds you, just as you place your phone down on the nightstand. Shutting the door behind him, he quickly crawls under the covers and into your space.

He draws you closer to him with an arm around your waist, kisses your shoulder where your tee shirt’s tugged down to reveal your warm skin. You shift in his hold, turning to face him and Hoseok peppers small, fluttering kisses all over your face.

Nudging your chin with his fingers, Hoseok tilts your head back enough to slot his lips against yours. The kiss is languid and patient, much like his love for you, his fingers drifting softly against your jaw and into your hair.

It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s sucking on your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth to slide against yours. His hand trails away from your hair, down and back under your tee shirt where he gently grips your hip. He brings his knee up between your thighs and he swallows the sound you make when it pressed flush against your core.

He directs the motion of your hips against his thigh, and the whimper you let out when he pulls his mouth away from yours runs like electricity on a wire straight to his cock.

The hand that’s trapped under the weight of your head twists towards you, lacing into your hair so that Hoseok could press his lips against your neck. He nips at your skin with blunt teeth, there’s a desperation in the way you try to rock your hips faster than he’s letting you and the way softly whine his name.

“Hobi.” He feels your hand curl into the material of his tee and the way you tug. He hums, too busy sucking a bruise below your jaw to properly answer.

“Want you.”

Hoseok pulls away from your neck, his eyes adjusted enough to the darkness of the room to make out the outline of your features. He needs no light to guess how you look right now: pupils swallowing the expanse of your irises, flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips.

Tilting his head, he halts your movement with a firm grip. Allowing you your moment to protest against it, there’s a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth and dark need swirling in his chest.

“Yeah?” Hoseok coos softly – mockingly – tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He feels your nod more than he sees, and he chuckles, “Ask nicely, little girl.”

“Please, please.” You chant, begging so, so sweet for him, and Hoseok catches your hand that snuck under his tee shirt. Softly, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, and pulls away.

He shifts, raising to throw the now too warm covers off. He settles you how he wants, on your back with his knees on either side of your hips. He keeps your wrists in his hand, above your head, while his other hand teases at the band of your panties. He kisses you softly, pressing his lips against yours and not doing much else, shifting to get himself between your thighs.

“So desperate for me, hm?” Angling his hips just right, he lets his arm hold his weight and presses the firmness of his cock against your covered cunt. At your moan, Hoseok draws his bottom lip between his teeth. He could barely stand it himself, his boxers felt too tight against him, he could feel just how worked up you are. There’s a dampness that’s all you, easing the grind of his cock against you. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Touch me, please.” You request breathlessly, hips raising to meet his.

“I am touching you, doll.” Hoseok squeezes your wrist gently in his hold to remind you, and he could only chuckle at your frustrated exhale, “You know how this works. Tell me exactly or I won’t know what you want.”

He stills his hips and waits – ever patient – until you catch your breath.

“Want your hands, cock – anything, please.”

Leaning down, Hoseok presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, before he draws back again, letting go of your hands. Running his hands along your sides, he tugs lightly at the hem of your tee, “Off.”

You raise slightly, hastily pulling the shirt up and over your head. Hoseok does the same, quickly clambering off the bed to get out of his clothes and getting back in just as quickly.

He puts himself right back between your legs, a hand fumbling blindly to press against your clit. His fingers slide against you easily, sinking into the warmth of you, his other hand squeezes at the base of his cock to mirror the tightness he feels. He’d barely gotten a few thrusts in when you’d turn restless, the way your hips rose to meet the motion of his hand gave way to your frustration.

“Hobi...”

“Okay, okay.” Hoseok chuckles as your impatience is his own, too. He tugs you to him with his arms around your thighs, using a hand to rub the sensitive head of his cock against your sodden folds. A groan leaves him as he sinks his cock into you, keeping a steady pace of shallow thrusts until he bottoms out.

“Fuck, baby.” Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, leaning forward over you, caging you in with his hands beside you head, “Always so good for me.”

The kiss you share then is teeth and tongue as Hoseok finds his rhythm, the sound of his hips meeting yours is loud in the stillness of the room. He groans into your neck where he licks and sucks at your salty skin.

Hoseok almost blows his load when your pussy clenches around him. He knows he’s hitting the right spot when you shudder, thighs tightening as you try to pull him as closely as you could. “Gonna cum?”

“Y-yeah.” Your words broken, pitched high with your need, eyes rolling back as Hoseok began to drag out his movements.

“Yeah? Then beg for it little girl.” His hand shifts, resting against your jaw gently, “Beg me to let you cum.”

His thumb slips into your mouth and you suck on it like you would his cock, tongue swirling around the digit. Hoseok groans low in his throat, cock twitching inside your cunt. Eyes trained on your mouth, he presses down on your tongue to pry your lips apart. “Come on, sweetheart.”

His fingers squeezing into the plump flesh of your thigh, hips rolling against yours, “Beg.”

“Please, please let me cum, Hobi.”

“Good girl.” Hoseok hips snap, wild and chasing his own release. Nimble fingers with jagged movements against your clit, your moans raise in pitch and it had Hoseok’s hips stuttering.

“Fuck baby, c’mon.” Hoseok’s eyes roll back, he rests his forehead against yours, “Cum for me, pl-please, baby.”

He kisses you, when you gasp his name and shudder - all tongue and teeth and a sloppy mess, pace slowing to measured thrusts, and then he was coming. His hips stutter as he mutters a string of curses that blends into your name. There’s stars behind his eyelids and he can’t hear past the rushing of the blood in his ears.

Your fingers are running through his hair when Hoseok finally feels like he’s not melting into a boneless puddle against you. He presses kisses to your skin, wherever he could reach, with a lazy smile.

“Hobi,” You grunt, though there’s humor in your tone as you pat his side, “Please get off me I can’t breathe.”

Hoseok sighs, long and drawn out, “But I like it here.”

“I will bite you.” It’s a threat, and a promise, and Hoseok takes it seriously. Carefully, he raises up and off you, sitting near the foot of the bed.

He rubs at your calf with a light touch, “Wanna change the sheets now or after a quick rinse?”

“After,” you mutter, “I don’t even think I can move right now.”

Chuckling, Hoseok helps you sit up, crowding your space once more to place a kiss against your nose.

When all is said and done, you’re both laying in bed again, on fresh, cool sheets. Hoseok has his arm around you, and you’re both sleepy enough to drift away in the comfort that you’d both created.

"I love you.”

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[gyupremacy]

Parental Guidance | jhs.

↳ Pairing: jung hoseok x wife!reader

↳ Genre: smut, fluff

↳ Au(s): established relationship

↳ Word Count: 2.3k

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Warning(s): cursing, accusations of cheating (reader's father towards Hoseok), fondling, oral (male to female), dirty talk

↳ Summary: Hoseok and your father don't see eye to eye. With your parents staying over for the weekend, let's just hope things don't get TOO tense.

↳ a/n: So... this fic was a spur of the moment thing that came from another idea for a Hobi fic that wasn't working out 😭. I hope you guys enjoy it because I was really excited while writing it from all the ideas that were flowing for it. I want to give a special thanks to @hobeemin for making this amazing banner and divider and @archivebysky for beta-ing.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

"Hoseok! I already cleaned off the couch an hour ago. Why is there still stuff on here?" You called out to your husband, who was coming back from outside after doing yard work.

"Sorry, baby. I was just going through some demos that Yoongi sent me." He responded, coming up behind you with a hug and kissing your cheek.

You were frantically making sure the house was spotless for the next few days, as you put away his earbuds, notepad, and folded up the blanket from the hallway closet.

"Y/N, you look like a chicken with its head cut off. Why are you in such a hurry?" Hoseok laughed, watching you move around faster than the speed of light.

"Did you forget what today is?" You asked, seeing the realization finally hit your husband once he turns over to look at today's date marked on the calendar in bold letters:

PARENTS VISITING UNTIL SUN.

Your handwriting was unmistakable and so was the look of disbelief on Hoseok’s face.

"Your parents are coming over? Today? They are staying the whole weekend?" You swore you saw his eyes almost pop out of his head at that moment.

Hoseok's relationship with your parents was… complicated. Your mother absolutely loved him and made every effort in having a positive relationship with her son-in-law. Your father, on the other hand, was wary of your relationship from the get-go, seeing his occupation as the main source of contention.

The idol life is a hard one, being away from family and friends for long stretches of time. Being the wife of an idol had its own hardships, as the constant negative comments from "fans" proved to be an exhausting one. However, that didn't stop your relationship with Hoseok from becoming stronger.

"I know you and Dad won't see eye to eye Hobi, but they'll only be here for three days." You rub the small of his back to reassure him.

"Huh… I guess you're right. Just hold me back if he says something out of line." Hoseok said, which you hoped was a joke.

You were about to go back into the kitchen to finish the rest of the sweeping you had begun a while again, but were interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Hoseok walked towards the door, where he was greeted by your parents. Your mother was smiling as she leaned in for a hug.

"Hoseok! It's been so long it seems. How have you been?" Your mother asked cheerfully.

"I've been doing great Mrs. Y/L/N! Been working a couple of songs and being with the Mrs., you know." Your husband laughed along with her, with your father watching on.

"Mom! Dad, you're here!" You rushed over to greet both of your parents.

You were so wrapped up in talking with your mother that you didn't pay attention to the cold glares that your father and husband exchanged with each other before entering the house.

"I was finishing getting the house ready for you guys right when you rang." You told your mother, sitting on the couch together.

The tension between Hoseok and your father was thick, the distance between either (figuratively and literally) was not helping them.

Besides the fact that he was an idol, your father also took opposition with the both of you getting married at a relatively young age. At the ripe young age of 20, you and Hoseok decided to get married in a small, intimate ceremony, with only his family and your close friends in attendance.

You didn't invite your parents due to your father's stance on you dating an idol, so the wedding went on. Eight years later, you always wondered what it would be like if they were there, daydreaming about what it would be like to be walked down the aisle by your father.

"So… how have you been Y/D/N?" Hoseok asked, not even bothering to turn in his direction to look into his eyes.

"That's Mr. Y/L/N to you, boy." Your father asserted, earning an audible sigh in return.

"Hey! Why don't I go make us all something to eat? You guys must be hungry from the long way here." You say in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

You got the pot ready with running water, soon grabbing noodles, tomato sauce, and cheese to make some pasta for everyone. You could overhear your mother having a conversation with Hoseok about a recent sale at her favorite store.

Hearing their exchange made you smile, reminiscing back to your sophomore year of high school when you first told your parents about Hoseok. He was your first real boyfriend and you wanted nothing more than for your parents' approval.

You came back to reality once you heard your father ramble on about how hungry he was, causing all of them to sit down at the table.

"Thanks for the meal, sweetie." Your mother said, watching you serve all of the food for everyone.

"Definitely, baby. The food is amazing." Hoseok beamed, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

"Oh please!" Your father mumbled under his breath (or so he thought).

You signaled your mother to do something to prevent him from going any further. She leaned over to whisper in his ear, and he looked down at his plate for the next few minutes.

"Honey, don't you think Y/N made a great meal?" Your mother spoke up.

"Yes, of course." Your father responded nonchalantly, still avoiding to gaze in your and Hoseok's direction.

The dinner remained silent until your mother perked up once again.

"So, when are you guys gonna have children?" Your mother mused.

You spit out your drink on the middle of the table and watch in horror at your parents' faces.

"Oh dear, is everything alright?" She said with concern laced in her voice.

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Y/L/N. It's just that with my career, we think that it would be best until the time is right to be fully involved parents." Hoseok interjected.

"I've never heard of a married couple of almost a decade not wanting to have kids. I guess someone's having trouble performing in the bedroom." Your father snarked.

You just wanted to curl up in a ball in the corner of the kitchen and cover your face at the thought of what you knew was yet to come. Hoseok balled his fists on the smooth surface of the table before banging them in frustration at his words.

"You know what, Y/D/N? I'm sick and tired of you always belittling me every fucking time you come to visit!" Hoseok said seething.

If your parents' shocked expressions weren't enough, your husband's increasing voice level was.

"Ever since the day Y/N brought me home to meet you, you've been nothing but a complete asshole to me! The only reason I still give a fuck about how you feel about me is the love I have for your daughter!" Hoseok paused to take a breath when it's your father's turn to speak his mind.

"Well, if it means anything, I'd rather have my daughter marry a businessman or a lawyer, not some rapper, who's probably whoring it up on tour." your father was about to unleash some more venom, with Hoseok in toe, until you finally grab their attention.

"Enough!" You yelled.

One after another, your mother's, father's, and husband's heads instantly whip towards your direction.

"What is wrong with you both? Do you not realize how much tension you BOTH have caused over the years because of this petty feud?" You folded both of your arms over your chest in an act of frustration.

"I've had it! You are two grown men acting little toddlers, and for what? Me? Squash this… NOW!" You rise up from your spot at the table without hesitation when Hoseok tries to stop you.

"Baby, wait!"

"I'm going to bed." You shrugged off his hand on your shoulder, marching upstairs.

Almost two hours had passed and things somewhat calmed down for the evening. Your mother was sound asleep, your father was in the kitchen grabbing something to drink, and your husband was drying his hair as he emerged into your shared bedroom.

You had finished your own shower minutes earlier, putting on a white silk nightgown, simply rubbing in your favorite body lotion.

"I always loved this number on you, Y/N." Hoseok said, creeping up behind you to lay a kiss onto your shoulder.

"I know. That's why it's so comfortable that I might just go straight to bed." You retort, moving to go on your side of the bed.

He sighs, truly feeling regretful for how the events at dinnertime unfolded. He took his spot on his side of the bed, leaning across to be leveled with you.

"Y/N… I'm really sorry for yelling at your dad during dinner. I was so tired of all the constant jabs towards me, but I shouldn't have acted like that in front of you or your mom." Hoseok begins.

"You mean the world to me. I hate it when you're upset and if that means I'll just have to suck it up when it comes to your father, I'll do it."

You sat there, taking in a deep breath, considering his words. He truly wanted to make amends with your father after all the years of animosity.

"Hobi, I appreciate your apology, but don't feel like you have to force a smile when it comes to my dad. I'll talk to him tomorrow, and hopefully, things work out between you both." You cradled his face, kissing him ever so softly.

"No, Y/N, let me talk to him. It's my responsibility to own up to my part in all of this." Hoseok insisted, rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.

"I love you." You whispered sincerely.

"I love you too, honey." He said.

You both lean in closer, feeling the rest of the world disappear around you. Your lips were captured by his, and soon enough, the tender and soft pecks became more swift and fervent.

Hoseok quickly moved his position, so he was now on top of you. He slipped his hand underneath your silk nightgown, taking the chance to grasp your chest.

"Even after all these years, you still somehow give me butterflies with your touches." You moaned.

One thing you loved about Hoseok (besides his kind personality and way with words) was his hands. Not too rough and not too soft, they were the perfect medium. His fingers were long and slender, perfect for tantalizing touches.

"That's just part of being a good husband. Making you feel as loved as possible and making you scream." He gives you the look of desire you're all too familiar with.

He brings the same hand he used to cup your chest down your torso, ghosting his fingers over your clothed womanhood.

"My parents are only a wall away." You warned, remembering how much of a light sleeper your father tended to be.

"Well then… I guess someone is just gonna have to be a little more quiet, angel." Hoseok winked, sliding your underwear to the side.

He stuck his tongue out to glide a stripe over your lips, causing you to lean your head back in pleasure.

"Fuck, you taste like heaven as always." Letting the praise go straight to your core.

He continued this, earning more moans from you. You ran your fingers through his silky, blonde hair, grabbing a hold of the back of his head.

"So, s-so good...!" You said in a hushed tone.

His movements became faster, and you began shaking from the wave of electricity between the both of you. Being so lost in the moment, you didn't pay attention to the knocking on the door.

"Oh shit!" You whispered out.

"I'm making you feel that good, huh?" Hoseok laughed.

"Yes, but Hoseok… the door!" You gestured ahead of you, watching it slightly creak open.

You ducked under the covers instantly, listening as your husband waited to see who was behind it.

"Hoseok, is it okay if I talk to you for a few minutes?" being met by the voice of your father, your heart started to race a mile a minute.

"Of course, sir." Hoseok responds almost timidly.

"Y/N's probably asleep right now, but I wanted to apologize for the way I acted during dinner. The comments I made about you and your relationship with her were inappropriate and uncalled for." He said.

During your entire life, you witnessed your father's stubborn ways, but rarely did you see him admit he was wrong.

"Mr. Y/L/N, I should apologize too for yelling at you and in front of Y/M/N. It's just, I don't know why you hate me so much." Hoseok stated.

Your heart almost pounded out of your chest at the sound of his words as you maintained your position under the covers. You spent many nights consoling him as he discussed his conflict with your father, but hearing him say the words to the man himself was almost surreal.

"Hoseok… I don't hate you at all. Y/N's my only daughter, and I don't want to see her getting hurt. Seeing how much you love her and how long you've been together, I know she's in good hands." Your father laughs a bit, soon joined by your husband.

"I appreciate it and accept your apology. Let's hope that these next few days can be peaceful and that we can develop a bond someday." Hoseok said.

They exchanged "goodnights" and the door shuts behind him when you rise up to be laying next to Hoseok.

"I'm glad you both made up. It was a long time coming." You mused as he positioned himself more comfortably.

"Yeah, it felt good to talk about everything, even if we’re so tired we won't remember it in the morning." He joked.

"Now that he's going back to sleep, do you think we can continue what we were doing before we were interrupted?" You bit your lip, still taking in all the satisfaction you felt earlier.

"Anything for you."

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

© gyupremacy, 2022. All rights reserved. 

[hyungieyoongi]

Bad Things Come in Threes

Pairing: Hobi x Reader

Genre: Established Relationship + FLUFF 

Word Count: 750+

A/N: requested by anon for my follower milestone celebration! I love nothing more than writing about sweet, sweet Hobi (especially since he is leaving soon and literally I will sob).

“What is that saying again? Bad things come in threes?” you asked your coworker, speaking in the direction of the beige carpet of your office floor. Your forehead was resting on your desk, eyes closed as you ignored your computer dinging continuously with email notifications.

“Yep, that’s the one,” your coworker responded, all too cheerily, typing away on her laptop on the couch in your office. “Maybe you could escape this hell and get home before the third one happens.”

You lifted your head to glare at her. She rolled her eyes at your expression.

“I’m serious, Y/N, go home. It’s late. All of this will be here in the morning waiting for you, anyway,” your coworker said, trying to sound comforting. You groaned.

“Fine, fine, you’re right, I should go. Besides, Hoseok probably thinks I died,” you joked, looking at your phone to see five unread texts from Hobi, likely asking when you would leave the office and threatening to come get you himself if you didn’t stop working for the day. “We’ll deal with all of this tomorrow.”

“Here, here!” your coworker cheered, shutting her laptop with a gleeful snap. You opened your phone to text your boyfriend.

DO NOT COME TO THE OFFICE. I’m on my way home right now. - Y/N

Are you lying? - Hobi 💜

Of course not.

Are you sure?

I am positive.

Good, I’ll see you soon, baby.

---

You walked into the door of your shared apartment with Hoseok, the sounds of relaxing music softly filling your ears as you shut the door behind you. You startled slightly as you unexpectedly felt hands removing your coat from your shoulders, relaxing when you heard your boyfriend laughing at your reaction.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Hobi murmured, placing your coat on the hooks by the door. He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead in apology. “I’m sorry you had such a hard day, my love.” You let yourself be wrapped in his arms, taking a deep breath as you felt the tension leave your shoulders for the first time in hours.

“I’m just happy to be home,” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled by Hobi’s oversized sweater.

“I have a surprise for you,” Hobi said, grabbing your hand to lead you through your home.

“You do?” you asked, confused, racking your brain for any hints that Hobi might have left throughout the day that you had failed to pick up on.

“Follow me.” As Hobi led you to your master bathroom, the music you had heard earlier got slightly louder and clearer. The lights were dimmed in the bathroom, candles lit throughout the room, casting a golden glow on the white tiles. The counter was lined with products—sheet masks, nail polish, moisturizers—everything you could want for a relaxing at-home spa night.

“I think you’d be more comfortable if you changed,” Hobi said behind you, chin propped on your shoulder, arms intertwined around your waist in a back hug. You noticed your robe was hanging next to his on the opposite door frame. They were his and her matching robes that Hobi had bought for the two of you on your last anniversary; ridiculously overpriced and designer, of course, but the soft fabric always felt like a warm hug at night.  

“You didn’t have to do all of this, babe,” you said quietly, leaning back into his chest. Hobi kissed the side of your neck lightly.

“Yes, I did,” he whispered next to your ear.

You turned around, leaning forward to kiss him. “Thank you,” you murmured. You felt him smile against your lips, deepening the kiss before pulling away.

“Come on, we can paint each other’s nails and then do face masks,” he said, grabbing your robe off of the hanger and holding it for you to put on as you shrugged out of your work dress.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” you asked, tightening the belt on your robe as Hobi put his on so you would match.

“Hmm, I think you might have mentioned it once or twice,” Hobi teased, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “And I’ll never get tired of hearing it.” He pecked your lips briefly, making you giggle.

“However, it is time to get down to business,” Hoseok joked, a mock serious expression on his face as he held up two bottles of nail polish from the counter, “pick a color.”

Maybe bad things didn’t actually come in threes when Hoseok was around.

---

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[amourkive]

SOUL TWIRLING | JHS

a/n:I...am in love with hobi. And i miss him, come home (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) also I don't know much about the different styles of dancing so please bare with my mediocre knowledge.. stay gold⁷ -Miri

masterlist

/ᐠ• ㅅ •ᐟ\

You stood by the double doors, waiting silently as a couple cars drove by. You really hoped Hoseok would hurry up and open the doors, or else you might freeze to death.

A few more minutes pass, and you hear the clink of a door opening, the hinges singing out as it did. "Hi baby, sorry to keep you waiting." He greeted, laughing as you pushed past him, into the warmth of the building.

Taking off your coat, you turned to watch him as he made his way across the room, scrolling through his phone. presumably his playlist, which was your best guess. You sat on one of the vacant chairs, patiently waiting.

"it's okay, I wasn't out there for too long. I just can't wait to see what you've worked on!" He smiled brightly at your words, as if your words were the only thing that mattered to him. "of course, of course. I'm ready to impress my beautiful girlfriend!"

with a shake of your head, and a short laugh coming from him, your ears perk up, as a song, usually used for waltz fills up the room, and you watch Hoseok in amazement as he elegantly moves around the room in long steps.

You see the concentration on his face as he does a small turn, and you can't help the tightness in your chest. This was new. Hoseok never danced ballroom style, nonetheless the waltz. And yet, here he was, moving so effortlessly across the floor, and you truly believed he was born to dance.

You were in such a trance that you weren't aware of Hoseok pulling you up from your seat, until he had one arm wrapped around your waist, the other grasping your hand gently, moving along together.

"what do you think?" He asked, not needing your approval, but wanting it anyway. You smiled, finally, wrapping your free arm around his neck, nodding.

"I think, per usual, that you're amazing! How'd you pick it up so quickly- look at you, you're not even stepping on my feet. You know how many people have, and they've been taking classes for years!"

He laughs, throwing his head back, as he twirls you around, before going back into first position, shrugging softly. "I don't know...I'm just-too good! Especially when I want to dance with the most wonderful girl in the world!"

You laugh, pinching his neck softly, letting out a sigh, before looking at him with all the love you have for him. "Hobi, thank you for learning...I know it's not your usual style, but the fact that you learned it anyways means a lot to me. I promise I'll try to take hip hop classes to make up for it."

He 'tsk'ed shaking his head, "My dear you don't have to worry about that. I've always been meaning to learn, especially after seeing you dance oh so long ago. (it's been a year) I knew I had to try it out! and-its actually fun."

"Maybe we should get you in Tango classes. I just know that's your calling." Twirling you again, bringing you back in, and ending with a dip, his heart-shaped smiled etched onto his face, engraved into your mind forever;

"as long as I get to dance with you, it'll all be worth it."

And he was right.

[missywritesfor7]

Banana Pancakes | JHS

Synopsis: A short Hobi fluff inspired by Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson 🎶

Pairing: j-hope x reader

Word count: 902

Warnings: none. It’s all fluffy 🥰

The sound of heavy rain wakes you from a restful sleep on a Saturday morning. You had planned to run some errands and do some shopping today. You and Hoseok are just a week away from finally moving into your first home and there’s still a lot that needs to be done.

You roll over to look at your phone and see that it’s only 9:30am, but the forecast shows heavy rain lasting all day. You contemplate whether it’s worth going out in or if those errands could wait.

An arm reaches around your waist pulling you close into small spoon position.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Hoseok whispers kissing your shoulder.

“Good morning, my love.” You shift around to face him and his bright beautiful smile and give him a soft kiss.

“Are you still going out today?” He asks pulling you closer.

“I was thinking about it, but I don’t know. I really have a lot I still need to get done before the move.”

“It can wait though, right?” He pouts. “It’s raining a lot, maybe you should just stay in today.”

“When will I have time during the week to get everything done though?” You know he has a point, but getting things done any other day with work on top of it all would be such a hassle.

“Maybe you should worry about that later, and just stay in with me today.” He presses his lips to yours making your decision for you. No way you can go out in that rain when it’s so warm here in his arms. “Stay home and I’ll make you some pancakes.”

“Pancakes?”

“Banana pancakes,” he smiles. “It’s raining, why not?”

You chuckle at how adorable he is. You’re not even sure if you have the ingredients for banana pancakes, and half of the dishes have already been packed. You can’t resist his enthusiastic offer though.

“Ok, let’s have pancakes,” you say making his face brighten up even more.

“Let’s go!” He squeals jumping out of bed.

Despite the dark and gloomy climate outside and the booming rain hitting the roof, the sun is shining inside as Hoseok digs through the cabinets for everything he needs to make banana pancakes in nothing but a pair of pajama pants.

“Aren’t all of the pans packed?” You ask him looking at all of the half packed boxes sitting around the kitchen.

“We have one!” He lifts a tiny skillet erupting into his contagious giggle that never fails to make you smile.

The skillet is only big enough to cook a single egg and you two have never actually used it before. Hoseok bought it as a gift for you one year along with the biggest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen, saying the little things are just as special as the big things.

“We can just make a bunch of small ones,” he says mashing a couple of bananas in a bowl.

“I’ll make some coffee then,” you laugh.

The rain continues pounding outside, so much so that you’re a little surprised that the power is even still on. Hoseok is completely unfazed though, mixing batter and dancing to his own little tune. There’s never a quiet moment with him around between his cute sound effects and his adorable little songs. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pour each of you a cup of coffee and you hand him one as he pours a small spoonful of batter into the tiny skillet on the stove.

“I thought we would have more batter than this,” he giggles. “There’s more banana than actual batter. I think we can get 4 small pancakes out of it.”

Clearly that won’t be quite enough for you both, but it doesn’t even matter. Spending time with him fills you more than any amount of pancakes could. You set your coffee down on the counter and wrap your arms around him from behind.

“Maybe I’ll just eat you up then,” you say kissing his bare back. His body is warm and comforting and honestly makes you want to curl up in bed with him again and cuddle all day.

He pours the batter for a second pancake after placing the first cooked one on a plate. He turns around to face you as the sound of the batter sizzles in tiny on the skillet.

“Eat me up, my love.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a passionate kiss.

Hoseok is gentle and soft every time he touches you. His lips are healing on even the worst of days. He’s your happy pill, your comfort blanket, your light at the end of every tunnel. Suddenly the pancakes are forgotten. The rain is forgotten. It’s just you and Hoseok in your own bubble of love.

It isn’t until the smell of burning bananas pulls your lips apart as he quickly turns around to remove the tiny pan from the burner and turn off the heat. He turns back to you with an embarrassed smile.

“Well...” he chuckles. “At least we have one pancake.” He pulls you back into an embrace and kisses your forehead. “That’s not enough though.”

“Babe, as long as I have you I have plenty. Can we just go back to bed and cuddle instead?” You ask giving him a quick peck on his heart shaped lips.

“Anything for my wife to be.”

[mirahuyooo]

Stranded (II) | jhs

— But, darling, if you hadn’t fallen, you wouldn’t have met him—the one who’ll render you mad and drunk with his love so much that you’ll never want to find sanity again.

word count: 11,730 (PART II) contents: FLUFF, domestic things, ✨revalations✨, drinking (duh), getting drunk (duh pt 2), hangovers (duh pt 3), yn and hobi being wholesome uwu, people teasing the shit out of them, someone caught the feels 👀💕💖💞, not necessarily accurate (i mixed up a lot of versions and made up some shit), a bit historical?? idk anymore, Greek Mythology AU pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader Inspired by Dionysus and Ariadne

[masterlist] | check out [Elysian Tales] & [BTS as Greek Myth Icons]!

A/N: I forgot to release a teaser for this lmao but here's part two! hAVE FLUFF BC THE LAST PART IS GONNA BE A ROLLERCOASTER MWAHAHAHA I won't hold you guys back for long 💖 hope you guys enjoyed this! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Stay tuned for the last part next week!~

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ || ▷ 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

If you must admit, it’s not so bad to be in the company of the trickster stranger and his spotted beast.

In the weeks that followed, the two of them had helped you make a home for yourself, especially as the quiet decay of nature marks the eventual coming of full autumn and winter. Upon finding a little cave near the beach, you have since made turns fortifying it against nature and wild animals. Neither of you were good carpenters, but it was surely an adventure attempting to build makeshift furniture and decor. It cannot compare to the palace you grew up in, but you find yourself not minding the clutter and mess.

(There exists traces of them both around your little cave—fruits and fishes that Hoseok brings with him in his visits for you to eat, that wolf pelt cloak he let you keep, a makeshift bed on the ground for Agrios to lay on, three sets of wooden plates that you and Hoseok tried your hand at crafting.)

Though he no longer has practical reasons to do so—what with you somewhat now settled well in this corner of the island—Hoseok still visits you in your cave, at times, bringing Agrios with him. Sometimes it's a walk along the beach, other times it’s some random trinket he wanted to give you, but most times it’s endless idle chatting.

“I’m beginning to think I’ve seen that face of yours before,” you muse to him one day as the two of you sit on a blanket by the beach, watching the sun set. Next to you, Agrios naps with his tail swinging leisurely against your arm. The seabreeze blows fresh against your face, as you take in the timeless view.

Today’s a beautiful day, you think. Especially with good company.

Beside you, Hoseok seemed surprised himself. “You have?” he murmurs at your sudden thought, but his eyes soon twinkle. “And where might have you seen my dashing looks, princess?”

(He knows of your true identity by now—of your being a princess on the run for a treason committed—and has sworn to not tell a soul of your whereabouts to anyone, but something tells you he calls you princess simply to tease.) 

You roll your eyes at his smug expression. “I said ‘I think’, did I not?” you huff, gently running your hand through Agrios’ fur and earning purrs of approval from the beast. “It may have been in one of the palace celebrations, I’m not really sure, but I think I’ve already heard of that boisterous laugh of yours.”

Memories of your time in Crete have become so distant the more you spend your time here. Though a part of you doesn't really mind, you are sometimes reminded of certain moments, and recently, a vague sensation rings through your head of a time where you may or may not have caught a glimpse of him.

“Well,” Hoseok muses with a shrug, catching you off guard. “You might be correct on that one.”

You didn’t quite think your assumption was true. “Oh?” you ask, a surprise now putting you in his initial position. “How so?”

Hoseok eases back, looking at the sky as if it would make him remember previous events more. “I have been to Crete before during my travels,” he hums, tapping his chin as he thought, “though I was most likely drunk off my wits, I think I can recall being in Crete around five summers ago.”

Your eyes are rounded in shock as the notion jogs your memory.

You recall sneaking out of your room, only to see chaos in the palace grounds because your older brother perched himself atop the statue of a stallion in the gardens and slurring nonsense. “Were you the one that got Catreus drunk senseless?” you gasped, scandalized but also very much amused remembering the utter mess your usually stoic and uptight brother had turned into.

Had he been there to spread the influence of his god?

It takes him a minute, but Hoseok seems to remember pulling such a stunt on a young man he came across in the garden, what with the proud grin that takes over his lips. “He seemed to need it,” he shrugs, devilish as he then goes to nudge you. “So do you.”

Though the thought of wine yet again tempts you, you go pale for a moment at the thought of the embarrassing chaos he’ll get you into if you get drunk in his presence. “I refuse to drink anything that comes from the likes of you,” you claim, a laugh leaving your lips nonetheless.

Hoseok drapes an arm over your shoulder, leaning some of his weight on you as he does. “Once you set your soul free,” he mischievously tells you, “you’ll know how fun these sorts of adventures can be.”

Pushing him off of you with a playful squint, you cross your arms. “Nonsense,” you playfully retorted, “one of us has to be the serious one around here, don’t we?”

A dramatic gasp comes to you as a response, along with a poke to the side that makes you giggle. The young man soon throws his full weight all over you, sending you both laying back onto the sand with an ‘oof!’ from your end.

Hoseok simply continues his dramatics. “You wound me, (Y/N)!” he cried, “how could you?”

Your laugh merrily fills the air as Hoseok feigns limp against you, playing to be slain by your words. His upper half intersects over your stomach, forcing you to lay on your back. “Get off of me, you oaf,” you half-heartedly whine as you try and wriggle your way out of his grasp.

His black tresses tickle your arm as he shakes his head. “No,” he childishly insists, as you turn your attention to his old companion for some help. The spotted beast simply stares back in disdain, as if the two of you were rowdy children he was tasked to watch over.

“Agrios,” you call out for the leopard in the midst of your struggle, “help me here, won’t you?”

A second or two passes before the beast trudges forth to nudge at Hoseok’s head, signaling him to get off of you. “You’re such a traitor, Agrios,” Hoseok grumbles, nonetheless shifting his weight a little, so that the only weight on you would be his head resting against your stomach. “No fun, at all.”

A breathless chuckle leaves your lips as you relent with where he settled with, the two of you now staring at the clouds overhead. A comfortable silence settles between you both, but your mind ruins it soon enough.

All so suddenly, you come to think of how different you and Hoseok are—of how you pale in comparison to him. The way he grins and laughs about his adventures brews a conscious jealousy in you. His experiences have made him so happy and carefree—something you wish to be, if it were only that easy.

“Having fun isn’t good,” you murmur underneath your breath—a reminder reigning yourself in. You’ll get ahead of yourself again and get yourself hurt for the umpteenth time.

Suddenly, Hoseok straightened from his laidback bearing, and gawked at you. Sitting up along with him, you realized he had heard you, and, to your shock, he almost looked offended by your statement. “What makes you think so?” he questioned, somewhere in between confused and concerned.

Feeling embarrassed at the realization you’ve said such a thing aloud, you turned your eyes towards the sea as the waves rushed to kiss the sand. “Not to disparage you, Hoseok, but,” you bit your lip as you struggled to put your thoughts into words. “I simply am not one for merrymakings.”

You feel Hoseok shift next to you. From the corner of your eyes, you see him lean over to get a good look at you. His face bared no hint of the anger you expected from him. He, instead, was simply just interested in knowing the reason as to why a person such as yourself wouldn’t be fond of parties. “Again,” he manages a chuckle, “May I ask why?”

Your life was a stark contrast to his colorful escapades. A part of you wanted to have the hunger he has for having fun and wreaking havoc, but in your bones was the foreign princess raised to be obedient and compliant. “I’m not fit for it like you are, Hoseok,” you tell him, “I’m quiet and unfun—”

“Well—”

“—I’ve never even been to a lot of parties,” you cut any of his rebuttals out. “It’s why I don’t have fun in the ones I do attend.”

Hoseok blinks—once, twice—his head taking in your words upon closer inspection. Soon, he jolted to his feet and clapped his hands together in some 'eureka!' moment. “Well that simply cannot do!” he then exclaims with a determined look branding his face.

At his words, your eyebrows furrowed together as you cast a glance at the leopard beside you for any telling sign of his companion's reaction. “What are you planning?” you questioned Hoseok, your voice swimming with suspicion. (You liked to think you were rightfully being so. The last time you allowed yourself to do something bold, you had gotten yourself stranded on this very island.)

Hoseok opens his arms with a grand gesture, as if you could see what he was envisioning. “We’ll go around the island for celebrations!” he boldly declares. "A festival for Demeter and Persephone will be coming soon! A lot of gatherings are bound to take place!"

The big grin that seized his face unflinchingly remained, tempting you to agree with his plans so as to make him happy. Alas, your mind demanded to see reason. Your arms crossed as you defiantly questioned him. “Not possible. I'll be seen by the townsfolk if we do such a thing,” you countered, gesturing to yourself. “I'm a fugitive, remember?”

Hoseok grins still, so bright that it rivals the sun itself. “That is not a problem at all, my dear,” he assures you with a wink. “You have me.”

Your heart swells but your mind scoffs. “That’s hardly any consolation,” you lightly grimace as you idly run a hand through Agrios' fur, thinking of the shenaniganry Hoseok pulls and will pull.

Hoseok, ever brazen, doesn't, at all, seem to take offense in your honest doubt. "Hush now," he all but tuts before beckoning you to follow him. "Come with me, dearest (Y/N)!~"

Your friend stands there, a few feet away from you, waiting so excitedly that a traitorous part of you has already started to give in to his ideas. "Hoseok…" you sigh as you stand on your feet, Agrios following suit. "I really don't think it'd be a good idea for me to be anywhere else…"

For a moment, Hoseok turns somber, taking a step towards you to hold you by the shoulders. "It'll be alright," he assures you, voice as comforting as the squeeze he gives you. "I'll be there and we'll have fun. You don't have to drink if you'd like, but there'll be a feast. I'm sure you'd like to eat something else other than fish and fruits for a change."

A smile is nearly coaxed out of you at the thought.

It took a hint of that intrigue and a second for Hoseok's excited grin to resurface. "There'll be music, storytelling, dancing—it'll be grand!" he says, circling you as he excitedly lists off some ideas off his head. "We can all don on masks if you truly want to keep your identity secret, though I truly doubt anyone would care."

That traitorous part of you grows ever curious the more those gorgeous eyes of his sparkle with delight.

Hoseok half-heartedly rests his hand upon his heart as he lays the last of his assurances. "I'll lead you out of it if it ever gets too much for you. You needn't worry."

At this point, your mind is scrambling for an excuse to keep itself atop your reckless urge for such pleasures. Stay hidden!—your paranoia screeches, thrashing about and clinging onto any bit of sense it could grab ahold of.

Yet, you sigh and sink into the abyss. "You're a man of many words," you tell him as you nonetheless let your arms be linked with his.

The hint of your surrender writes satisfaction all over Hoseok's face. "I intend to keep them," he then croons, hips coyly nudging yours as the three of you make your way out of the beachline. "You'll have the time of your life, I promise."

Hoseok was surprisingly diligent when he wanted to, eagerly at your door (cave?) and ushering you awake in the early hours of the morrow. "Time to rise and shine! I have a lot planned for you today!" he gleefully rips away your bedding and, in spite of your half-awake protests, you are carried out of your abode over the shoulder of your dearest menace.

Eyelids heavier still, you could hardly figure out what on earth your friend was up to. By some degree of capability, you resorted to grasping at whatever slumber was left in you as Hoseok carried you to gods know where.

"Still sleeping, princess?"

You only grunt in response.

In hindsight, you should've been more attentive—should've heard the sound of running water and pulled yourself out of a sleepy haze then and there. Maybe then, you wouldn't have suffered the heart attack of having your legs plunged into cold waters out of nowhere. "Hoseok!" you screech as you jump back into his hold, suddenly very much awake.

Miraculously, he doesn't lose his balance, saving the both of you from instant, wet damnation. "Good morning," the menace grins as he sets you down once again—this time gentler as you become more aware of where he had taken you.

It was another cavern—one larger and more open than the one you made your home. The sunlight peaks through a sizable gap between the rocks above, allowing it to grace a little light inside. In the middle of the cave was a pool, one that likely has a tunnel beneath that leads to the sea outside, considering the faint sound of crashing waves in the distance reaching your ears.

"It's beautiful," you say with barely any thought as you gather the ends of your dress while you peer at the crystal clear water that reaches just below your knees. You stand on somewhat smooth stone, painstakingly carved by the sea through millions of years. It's beautiful.

"It is, isn't it?" Hoseok thoughtfully hums beside you.

Alas, you must put a hold on marvelling at the scenery to kick some water his way. "What did you dip me in here for then?" you grumble and glare—a chance to question why he dragged you out so early in the day for his antics.

Hoseok gasps, scandalized by your stunt in exaggeration. You paid his dramatics no heed, arms by your hips as you continued to squint until he gave you his answers. "I simply wanted to show you this haven of mine!"

You agreeably hum, understanding well how this makes a fine little hideout, but still. You try and pry more out of him, your questioning gaze not dropping.

As you suspected, the mischief returns to Hoseok's face. "That, and the fact that this is where my plans for the day will first take shape."

Taken aback, your arms fall to your sides. "What?"

He all but clapped his hands, gesturing grandly. "You can come out now, ladies," he calls out, his voice lightly echoing back at him.

From the gap above the cavern, two figures came flying in. They gracefully circle you both, and all you could do is gawk.

You could hardly believe your eyes. "Nymphs? How—"

"I have my ways," Hoseok gloats, beaming proudly as your wide eyes follow the nymphs who gave you amicable smiles. You turn back towards him, still incredulous.

"What's that supposed to m—"

There was no one there. That sneaky bastard. Where did he—

"My lady?"

You look back and see the nymphs excitedly awaiting your next move. "I'm (Y/N)," you bashfully say with a little courtesy, earning a delighted laugh from the two of them.

"We know," said the one with the dress adorned with pink and purple petals, her kind green eyes disappearing from her smile. "I'm Alenka," she says, she and the other nymph mirroring your courtesy from earlier.

"I'm Aldora," the more timid of the pair then said, dressed in blue as light as the sky sparkling like scales when the sunlight hit them.

Why would they waste their time here?

Unable to withstand your curiosity any longer, you ask the two beauties. "I'm so sorry," you shyly grimace, "but what exactly did my friend put you up to?"

For a moment, the two exchange a look of shock and intrigue at your words. Alenka speaks to answer your question. "We're here to help you get ready for the festival of course!" she tells you as Aldora nods along. "His hi—Hoseok, asked us to make you the prettiest we possibly can."

Her slip of the tongue doesn't escape you, but at the moment, the notion of your bare body being seen makes you fluster. "I can bathe by myself," you were quick to stammer out. "You needn't worry about that part."

Though hesitant, the two of them eventually nod. "We'll wait for you outside, Lady (Y/N)," Aldora says with the ghost of a smile. "Call for us when you're finished."

A nod from you and you're left to your own devices, water lapping at the ends of your dress as you stand idly. With a sigh, you reach to unravel your dress and shiver as you take a step deeper into the pool, deep enough for the water to rest at your collarbones. 

Best to get this over with. Wouldn't want to keep the nymphs waiting…

The silence allows your thoughts to voice themselves to you, and with no one else to keep you company, you find yourself entertaining them. What Hoseok has planned for the day, you have no idea, but it seems more questions than answers reveal themselves before you.

How did he manage to make contact with nymphs and make them serve you, no less?

What lies behind their behavior at the mention of Hoseok?

Why on earth is there so much effort for a damn party?

Hoseok had a bizarre flair to him, one that reeked of chaos and mischief, but your mind itches to know how on Earth he's managed to pull all of his stunts. Followers of Dionysus would be fond of parties—that you anticipated much—but you never thought they'd be able to get the willing participation of nymphs.

From what you've heard, nymphs often prefer the company of their own kin—too many mortals having tried to take their sisters as brides to not meet with other kinds without caution. Outside of that, they'd be in the company of heroes and demigods—even the gods themselves, too.

You freeze out of your own making, almost choking on air.

Does this mean Hoseok is something akin to the likes of those?

Heart racing, you try and put the pieces together.

He doesn't seem to carry himself as a hero—you've seen first hand what one is like.

Would he be a demigod then? Or a lover of a god?

Such were the likeliest of cases, you thought to yourself, but then you harken to the nymphs' behavior—their courteousness, their eagerness to serve, Alenka's slip of the tongue…

What could it have been?

His hi… his highness?

Your fingers pull to free your lips from your teeth, only to have them be chewed at.

Is Hoseok royalty then? What else would 'his highness' impl—no, it can't be…

Becoming a melting pot of emotions nearly turns you crazy, heart racing and unsure of what to do. "Enough," you tell yourself this with a staggering breath, pushing the questions over Hoseok's nature down the recesses of your mind. "Just bathe and meet with the nymphs, (Y/N). Just bathe."

Hoseok can be patient when he wants to, especially for something as near and dear to his heart as this. His unruly dark locks were combed, for once, and swept away from his face. He was dressed in his finest tunic that was a deep wine red with golden thread embroidery around the hem. Not that he needed it, but he also brought along a fur cloak in case the winds decided to blow colder.

Waiting an hour or so was a battlefield of boredom he was willing to march through, slicing through the drawn out hands of time by idly talking with Agrios or going through his plans for the day for the umpteenth time.

In time, he got the just rewards he was waiting for.

“Hoseok?”

There you come in, walking towards the edge of the treeline where he and Agrios waited. Hours of biding his time for this, and all he does is gawk. The sunlight, ever the blessing in his life, has allowed him to take the sight of you in. 

The nymphs had dressed you in a gown of deep red that turned purple in some trick of the eye, flowing gracefully where the wind willed it to. The fabric fittingly wrapped around your frame, the neckline dipping to show just the right amount of your decolletage and give space for the necklace he gave them to put on you. Flowers of the same colors were braided into your hair as the rest of your locks were kept to fall behind you, leaving only gentle curls to frame your face.

There was a stupid grin that seized control over his lips. All good things do come to those who wait.

A shy smile rests on your berry-stained lips, nervously chewed on by your teeth as you await his response. The sheer burgundy shawl that was draped over your shoulders also gave itself to be fiddled with by your fingers.

Agrios nudges his calf to knock him out of his stupor. “Is the first of your plans successful enough?” you try and jest upon seeing him break out of his trance, head tilted to the side in what Hoseok could tell was both teasing yet genuinely asking.

Having recovered enough sobriety, Hoseok opens his arms to welcome you. “Very much so,” he muses, as he offers an arm for you to take. A shiver of delight runs down his spine as you take his invitation and link your arm with his as your other hand gathers the ends of your skirt when the three of you begin to walk through the forest. "You look beautiful, princess," he gladly says, voice soft in spite of him mischievously leaning close to nudge your side.

Hoseok's compliment goes responseless, but the telling reddened ears and cheeks you bore was enough to satiate the pleasures he was fishing for. “Where to then?” you instead ask him, looking around at the trees and trying to familiarize yourself with this side of the forest. “Or will that have to be a secret too?”

A chuckle escaped his lips as you came back to look at him with a quirked brow. “I’m afraid so, princess,” Hoseok teasingly lilts, “but if I must admit, seeing as the first of the plan went well, I have gained high hopes for the next one.”

You reply with a mere hum, but your curiosity doesn’t elude Hoseok and it all the more leaves him giddy to see your reaction to the rest of his plans for the day. 

Sunlight through trees left a pattern of light dancing across your skin, one that constantly tempted him to steal glances your way. Idle conversation flows between you both with Hoseok being in the middle of telling you the time Silenus, the one who raised him, got so knackered from wine that he went missing for a couple of days and Hoseok had to look everywhere for him.

However much of a chatterbox he may be, Hoseok wasn’t one to keep on talking if his company wasn't at all present with him. He looks at you, furrowed brows and all, clearly thinking of something else. “Is something the matter?” he asks with a light tug of the arm linked with yours.

For a moment, you were startled, looking up at him with your cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “It’s nothing,” you tell him, but he insists.

“Nonsense,” he says, circling around you to hold both of your hands in his as he continues to walk backwards. “It matters if it’s clearly occupying your mind.”

Your furrowed brows persist in your worry of him and his reckless abandon. “It’s silly, Hoseok,” you tell him with a shake of your head, trying to stop him from walking like this.

Hoseok obliges your silent request, opting to stand there before you and idly swing your arms together. Agrios, too, stopping to look at you both. “Try me,” the man before you daringly grins.

Berry-stained lips draw into a pout as you think of his challenge. There is much hesitation in your eyes, stirring more grounds within him for actual concern. Hoseok waits patiently for you to find the courage to tell him what plagues you. For a while, nothing but the faint rushing of a creek nearby filled the air.

"You're not human, are you?"

The swinging hands come to a halt and his very being froze all over. "What?" he all but says, truly not expecting such a question out of you. To know that the very answer of it will upset you dreads him even more, but he decides to conceal any more of what could give himself away and wait for you to elaborate further.

"All of this," you say as your fingers slip from his grasp—a warmth which he instantly misses—and you gesture to yourself. "All of what you've been doing for me. They are not what mere mortals can accomplish."

Hoseok wields his casual and careless shrug. "I have my ways—"

Alas, you were ready with your own points all along. "My wounds were healed in an instant because of you," you say, showing him the skin he had asked his half-brother, Yoongi, to heal.

"Yes, but that wasn't exactly me," he reasons with a nervous chuckle. A half-truth.

You go on to gesture at his leopard. "You tamed a beast like Agrios."

"I raised him!" Hoseok exasperatedly claims, looking at Agrios expectantly as if the beast could speak to confirm support of him. Another half-truth.

Still, you were stubborn. "And you've even called upon nymphs to dress me."

A damning choice, he agrees, but one he still carries to his defense. "They owed me a favor," he says, shrugging it off. And another half-truth.

Guilt bubbles within him as he continues his deceit of you. It’s in good intentions, he tells himself. "These things hardly warrant an interrogation like this, princess," he tells you, almost pleading, really. "I'm simply being a man of my word."

Alas, you could see through him—through the way he couldn't meet your eyes for too long, through the way he was overly sweeping the topic under the rug.

"And a liar," you retort, crossing your arms as you point a finger accusingly. "You're keeping something from me. Are we not friends enough for me to deserve the truth of who you are?"

Such a tone of hurt was an unfair spear to use against him and his heart. "No," he sighs, turning away from you to run a hand through his hair. "I simply think it's of no importance, alright?"

You inch just a tad bit closer—mayhaps you were dreading this too. "It's who you are," you say, ever insistent but in a gentler manner. "Of course it would be important to me."

The wine god nearly buckles, tired with the charades anyways, but every time he’s reminded of your fear of the gods, he’s reminded of why he’s hidden this truth to you in the first place. Hoseok would never want you to look at him that way—that rigid formality and careful walking on eggshells. 

"Are you a demigod?" you continue to ask, resorting to listing off prompts of what you suspected. "A god?"

Hoseok curses the way he knocked out of his stupor upon hearing that word—at how it instantly pulled the truth to light, and at how it earned him a shocked gasp from you.

"You are…"

The moment he raised his gaze to yours, he saw the panic flashing in your eyes. With what he had known of you, you were likely frantic of possibly offending or disrespecting a god. Even if you were a bit snarky at times, Hoseok really didn't mind—hardly felt irked at all. He had long understood that there were personal reasons with which your walls were built on.

"(Y/N)—"

Your instincts urge you to take a step back—keep a respectful distance between you both! He's a god!—but you root yourself to your spot. "Who?" you manage to ask, voice trembling and barely above a whisper.

No. No. No.

The confidence he’s been wielding all but escapes his grasp the moment he needed it to cool his nerves. It’s all falling apart. "(Y/N)..." Hoseok says, though his words fall short of anything else. 

"Please," your voice pulls him back to you. "Tell me who you are."

Despair fills him as he realizes this has passed a point of denying, the last of his chances at redemption only being him finally telling you the truth. "Dionysus," he says, a name that’s become so foreign in your light. "I'm Dionysus."

Shock befalls you even more, your mind reeling to take the truth in.

The thought of it had existed in your mind, but you were still not prepared for it to have been the truth. You had figured there must've been something different about Hoseok, but to think the endearing menace you've been bickering with was a god all along.

“Is that really the truth?”

The wine god lightly scoffs. "No one would dare lie about such a thing," he says what you both know aloud. No mortal would dare to, lest they intend to be struck down by the gods for their fraudulence on purpose.

Tentatively reaching forth, certain relief passes through him when you let him take your hands into his, and form them into a cupping motion. He anticipates your reaction as he fills your palms with wine out of thin air, watching the way your breath hitches at the sensation in your hands.

Hoseok finds himself grasping at straws. He’s no mighty god of Olympus—just another child of his father, born with divinity more than some heroic brute strength like the rest of Zeus’ bastards. He was just a relatively unknown god cast away from the pantheon because his divinity wasn’t worthy enough to grant him a place there and cast away by many mortals for representing insanity and lack of control.

Perhaps, that would be enough to satiate your worries—enough to make you let him stay.

Rivulets of wine drip from the crevices of your fingers, emptying from your grasp just as Hoseok attempts to empty out his heart. “I’m no great god. Just one that fancies wine and shenanigans,” he weakly jests to you, leaving no room for any of your upcoming protests as he gets to his main point. “I’d like it very much if I remained as Hoseok to you.”

It was almost hilarious to see you more upset and frantic about all of this than he was. “I can’t possibly just—”

“It wouldn’t be any different from before,” he told you so carelessly that you would’ve thought him a fibbing mortal had it not been for what you’ve seen him capable of doing.

You look at him, incredulous still. 

“You’re a god,” you remind him, fumbling with your wine-stained hands as you willed yourself to not lean any more into his warmth. He’s the god of wine—naturally bound to be more chaotic than others, but he was a god, nonetheless. Surely, there must be lines that a mortal like you cannot cross.

The wine god shook his head. Here on this island—with you—he was free to be no one else but himself. “I’m Hoseok,” he ardently insists, “I’m your friend.” 

Your silence from a loss for words he took as hesitation that needed more assurance. "No curse or anything of that sort will come upon you," he reassures. "If you had done me any great offense, I would've already done something about it before."

The thought of yet another divine curse plaguing your life sends shivers down your spine, but the better part of you knows he tells the truth. He may be a god, but this was the same man who passionately guided you through making wine, regaled you with his travels, and encouraged you to share your mundane palace life.

This was the same man who you’ve bickered with to and fro, rough-housed with more times than you could count, and bemoaned about tackling you in hugs.

Gods! This was the same man who saved you from the beach, helped you make a home for yourself, and have nymphs dress you for some merry-making he had planned out for you.

He is Hoseok—always will be Hoseok to you, no matter how hard you can try to deny yourself otherwise and paint him in the divinity all the gods have. This notion elates yet dreads you all the same.

What will become of you?

Compared to him, you were a mere mortal—a princess, yes, but a princess on the run.

You are feeble—easily hurt, easily damaged, easily slain. If he or any of the gods so pleases, your life could be over in an instant for mere amusement. Will you be cursed like your mother? Will your life be taken for angering a god?

Perhaps, what truly terrifies you is that you are nothing—no hero, no favored child, nor a wife to one. No one knows where you are. No one would know what becomes of you. No one would mourn.

You have nothing to your name, even at this very moment. The fabric that's draped over your body, the flowers woven into your hair, and the remnants of wine that drips from your fingertips—all of them were courtesy of Hoseok; of the wine god, Dionysus.

In a brighter light, you suppose this might just be your new purpose in life—to be in his company, not simply because he was a god, but because he himself had done you great favors and changed your life for the better. Fear mustn't take hold on the foundation of what you and Hoseok have built, because it shouldn't have any foundation for itself in the first place.

Hoseok has nothing to gain from a runaway princess like you, and yet here he was, afraid of what will change with the truth. A god begging a mortal—what on Earth have you done?

You turn your back to the wine god, walking towards the creek to carefully crouch and wash your hands anew—free of the stains the wine left on you. The fresh start to your bond with the no-great-god friend of yours begins here and now.

A soft nudge to your arm demands your attention—Agrios, as it turns out, softly noses your side, eventually willing you to pet him in assurance. Right. You, too, have gotten used to the spotted beast, one of the many things that made Hoseok so bizarre. 

Behind you awaits the young man—young god—so tensely eyeing your every move, heart racing a mile a minute. His lip might as well bleed with ichor from how hard he bites it. However, the moment you come back to face him with a smile on your lips, Hoseok felt he could breathe again.

“Well," you gingerly begin, feet taking steps towards him and stopping at an arm's length. "What are we going to do now, Hoseok?”

You still worry, he notes, remnants of your hesitation bleed in the way you anticipate his next move. Nonetheless, warmth begins to bloom in his heart once more, hearing his true name from your lips a bliss to bask in.

“Follow me,” he warmly invites, opening a hand for you to take. The plan may have gone through drastic changes, but it's salvageable, he thinks—he hopes. At the very least he wouldn't have to hide the strings he intended to pull.

A moment passes and an outbreath escapes your lips. You take his hand once again, unsure of where he’d take you.

As it turns out, Hoseok planned to take you to the nearest town. There were a lot of people, their distant chattering and regaling was loud to you in spite of the distance. The town is more colorful than you had thought, a celebration clearly happening—a harvest festival in honor of Demeter and Persephone, just as Hoseok had told you.

Still, that doesn't explain everything.

In an instant, you drape the shawl overhead and shrink into the obscurity of the forest, hoping it would mask your identity. "Hoseok, what is the meaning of this?" you squeak in a panic, stepping back into the treeline where Agrios remained. The wine god, on the other hand, excitedly steps out towards the festivities and waits for you to join him. "I told you," the man sweetly beams, walking back to you to place an assuring squeeze on your shoulders. "We're here to have fun."

The fabric atop your head slips away at Hoseok's will, his careful touch tingling against your skin. "Let's not hide such beauty, hm?" He coyly chastises, earning a nudge to the rib and an eye roll from you. His laugh comes out stifled, looking down at you still amused.

"Insufferable," you half-heartedly grumble under your breath as you dare to walk into the paved road that led to the town, tightly gripping Hoseok's arm in some attempt to soothe your nerves.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

The two of you have been having your fair share of escapades all day—spectating games and sports, sneaking around to watch the enactment of Persephone's abduction, going around stalls of food—and a big grin takes its place on your lips, delighting the wine god. Throughout all of that, however, you were constantly moving and fairly hidden amongst the crowd, which is why the next of his plans earned yet another skeptic frown from you.

The night had fallen and as the wind became chillier, Hoseok had draped his fur cloak over you, laughing as it swallowed you whole. The three of you—Agrios having his own fun time strolling about in the forest while you and Hoseok were in town—walked into the forest, and to your surprise, Hoseok had brought you to a clearing in the woods, with many people, a small feast, and a bonfire—another gathering.

And so here you were, standing at the outskirts of the merrymaking and clutching Hoseok's fur cloak around you tighter, unsure and hesitant as always. Jolly music fills the air as you follow Hoseok's figure going around. He holds a goblet in one hand as the other animatedly moves along with his dramatic gestures.

"Have fun!" he had urged you earlier before he greeted the welcoming crowd, introducing you to some of them as his good friend—but, in spite of assuring him you would, "have fun" you did not.

Disappointment of yourself clashes with the paranoia gnawing away at your brain. When you two were in town earlier, you were constantly moving from one place to the next, and so, for you, the chances of getting discovered would've been slim then. You feel bad for wasting part of Hoseok's plan, but at the same time, you fear lingering among the crowd for too long and leaving an impression on them enough to recognize you as the runaway princess of Crete.

"I thought you were a giant bush for a moment."

You jolt at the sound of the wine god's voice, but soon grumble when you process his words. Hoseok stands there with an amicable grin, still nursing a goblet of wine. You, on the other hand, had been cocooning yourself in his cloak like it'd make you disappear from this place. "You take your cloak then," you snippily say, shrugging the mass of fur off only to earn yourself a chuckle from the wine god.

Hoseok shakes his head, hands guiding the cloak back over your shoulders before he goes to assess your expression. "Shall we get you home?" he kindly asks, and it makes you feel worse, because you didn’t quite know what you wanted.

"No! I—"

The wine god's brows raise at your hesitation to leave, brows knitted together in your torn sentiments while a frown rests on your lips. Hoseok resides himself to stand closer next to you and wait for you to compose yourself. "What troubles you, hm?" he asks, the thumb of his free hand easing the crease between your brows.

With a sigh, you look towards the merrymaking, the beginnings of envy blooming from within you. "I'd really hate for this to go awry in the end," you admit to him, "in case someone from here recognizes me."

Hoseok tuts, half-heartedly shaking his head. "Look at them," he tells you, gesturing to the crowd before you both. "They're all lost in their own worlds."

All around you were people lost in the music of the bard, dancing and drinking to their heart's content. "No one here knows who you are right now, princess," Hoseok urged like a demon on your shoulder—all in good intentions, of course. "What else is there to hold you back?"

You can't help but digest his words from where you stand.

You were forcibly shaped into the mold of a perfect, obedient princess for your kingdom. You were a scapegoat. You were a tool. 

Then, you became an accomplice to a murder, an enemy on the runfrom your own kingdom, and a forsaken bride, too.

And now… Now what?

You have nothing but yourself to your name—no more titles, no more labyrinths needing sacrifices, and no more promised marriages. You are no one in this sea of strangers—of people looking to festivities to forget their troubles.

Dare you say it, Hoseok is right.

What need did you have to be who you were before?

A wave of spirit emboldens you to take hold of the goblet Hoseok was about to put to his lips, your fingers grasping his wrist to guide the drink in his hand to your mouth. Gulp after gulp, you down the whole chalice before a wide-eyed wine god, shivering a little at the foreign taste you've subjected your palate to. You've never tasted wine quite like Hoseok's before.

You finally turn your attention to your dear friend, somewhere between coy and sheepish. "Dance with me?" you ask, taking a hold of his other hand.

Such words pull Hoseok back to the waking world. He grins as his finger wipes at the corner of your mouth. "I'd be delighted to," he merrily muses, letting you drag him into the circle gathering around the bonfire.

Around you, people cheer, welcoming the both of you to the joyous dance.

The party's just begun.

Many often get themselves into trouble when drunk, their inhibitions set loose by the wine pumping in their veins. It loosens lips and control—reveals one's nature in some shape or form—which was why Hoseok adored the unpredictable madness of it all.

He's seen the many ways people behave when under the influence of his creation, and many were like you, who have the drink open the heart and unleash rivers of tears.

First, you had just been humming—a folk song from Crete, if he understood your garbled notes correctly—but then you had started nuzzling your head into his neck. The motion tickles him, makes him chuckle, but it was the sound of sniffling that followed that made him stop in his tracks.

See, by now he had been carrying you in his arms back to your little cavern, the stench of wine mixed with your floral scent hitting his nostrils. The wine god, for once, had controlled his drinking to ensure he could get you home safely. With your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried into the crook of it, however, it was easier to hear your crying—easier to feel the wetness of your tears on his skin.

"Why the tears, princess?" He dares to ask, continuing his trek.

This was followed by a tighter hold, and another sniffle. "'m nothing without you," you all but whimper, voice small and meek but enough to grab his heart by the neck and squeeze it.

Hoseok tuts, chastising you like a child in the hopes you would hear it and scold him about that instead. "Nonsense, princess," he says, "That's not true at al—"

"'Tis true!" you whine and insist, shaking him by the shoulders as if it'd knock sense into him. It almost makes him laugh—had it not been for your next (drunken) choice of words. "I'd be dead by now."

Hoseok's frown was instant, but he waited for the rest of your words to pour in, walking down a path he’s gotten so familiar with in the past few weeks. The wine god doesn’t quite know if he’d want to hear this or not—if he’s worthy enough to hear it.

Nonetheless, he’s subjected to hearing it anyway. "Would'a gotten myself killed," you blubber, tears endless as you whimper, "but now I have wine, and a cave, and a pretty dress!"

Part of Hoseok beams with pride to have been able to bring such things into your life, to know that you found joy in the chaotic moments you’ve trudged through together, but a part of him also boils in a flurry of heartache and rage to have heard of this from you. Something in Hoseok burns. 

The two of you arrive at your cave, the wine god intending to lay you down on your bed before lighting a fire to keep you warm through the night. Alas, your arms around his neck don’t let go, forcing him to hover over you with his hands on either side of you to keep himself up. “(Y/N),” Hoseok quietly whispers, one hand lightly tapping at your arm and the other guiding the back of your head. “We’re home.”

A hum comes to him as a response, you shifting only to press a sloppy, barely there kiss on the corner of his lips, catching the wine god off his guard. “Hobi?” your lips move against his skin as you speak, sending his very being ablaze all the same.

Hobi? The wine god thinks to himself in confusion. Is that meant to be me?

“Yes?” he dares to respond anyway.

Just as Hoseok thought his mind wouldn’t get any worse, your words strike him through the heart yet again. "You 'n Agrios," you sniff, voice falling softer and softer, "mean so much to me… Don' leave me, alright?"

You pull away from him, noses merely inches apart as you were looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes that shone like gemstones with tears. There's a furrow in your brows as you struggle keeping your consciousness just to wait for his answer.

Hoseok could only smile, mustering the courage to plant a kiss onto your forehead, your worried brows unknitting themselves at the sensation of his wordless assurance. With that, you drift off to Morpheus’ realm, head finally falling back onto your pillow and leaving the wine god alone to his loud, frazzled thoughts.

You mean so much to me, too.

The next morn comes and you awake to an outstanding pounding in your head, a hiss slithering past your lips as you try to recollect yourself. It's a near similar ache to when you woke up at the—no, this is different.

At the very least, this one didn't have the dread and confusion seizing your entire being—just hilarious regret that you, at the same time, don't regret.

As your reason slowly but surely comes back to you, you become aware of a weight in your right hand. With one eye open, you peek around to see the familiar rocky walls of your abode, and looking some more, you see a hand from the bottom of your bed intertwined with yours—a sight that very much wakes you.

Beneath a familiar old fur pelt, you were lying on your side, curled up near the end of the bed much like you would as a child. You muster the strength to lean over, your left arm coming over in front of you to serve as a resting place for your chin as you look at the person attached to the hand in yours.

Hoseok, the wine god and absolute menace, sleeps on the cold, rocky earth next to your bed with nothing but his cloak from last night to give him some sort of cushion. Like you, he slept on his side, curled towards you with a hint of a pout on his lips that almost tempts a giggle out of you.

The sight shocks you, really, and for a few minutes you can't help but stare, unmoving and unknowing of what to do. His touch sends tingles up your arm and all throughout your body. Your headache doesn't do much to help you either.

How does one wake a god that also happens to be their friend?

You settled for a squeeze and a light shake to the hand in your hold, his fingers tightening around your hand little in response. His dark curls, which frame his face and brush over his eyes, tousle as he shifts into consciousness. With a groan, he squints up at you, eyes adjusting as he wakes.

"Morning," you idly greet, the first to speak between you both. "Comfortable?"

It takes a second or two for your lighthearted sarcasm to register in his head, the wine god's hand slipping from yours as he stretches from his place on the floor with a groan, the motion showing you a sliver of his naked chest. "My back hurts," he whines in a mumble as he sits himself up, your eyes following him as he did even as you remain in your position. His voice is deeper, you note, and a bit hoarse.

You can't help the soft laugh that leaves you. "Why'd you sleep on the floor then?"

Still drowsy, Hoseok rubs the sleep from his eyes as he grumbles. "You wouldn't let go of my hand when I tried to leave," he tells you, playfully squinting at you with an accusatory glare as his statement sends a furious blush across your cheeks.

"Oh."

You did what?!

Truth be told, you don't recall much of the night that transpired after you brazenly chose to forgo all your inhibitions and join the fray in the dancing and drinking. What sort of ridiculous things did you get yourself into?!

The wine god watched as a flurry of confusion, mortification, and embarrassment passed through your face in a matter of seconds. A part of him, he must admit, is disappointed you don't remember the words you told him last night on your way home—of the kiss you planted on the corner of his lips that still lingers if he lets his thoughts wander too far.

For his sake and yours, Hoseok directs the conversation forward. "So," he quips, leaning in as if to gossip. "Did you enjoy the merrymaking, princess?"

He watched as a smile instantly made it to your face, one you try and fail to bite back. Your hand reaches to cover your mouth as if it'd fare against the grin that was hurting your cheeks. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,” you eventually admit, the words as shy yet elated as the giggle that stifles through your lips. You recall the addicting feeling of thrill—the carefree laughter, the silly dancing, and the sweet, sweet wine.

Hoseok's grin is instant, his heart full and beating quickly at the successful fruits of his labor. He is right after all. Happiness looks gorgeous on you. “Oh, look at you, you poor thing,” he jests as he beams. "I told you we would have fun and you wouldn’t believe me!"

You roll your eyes at his teasing, sitting up from the bed. “Here I was,” you jokingly sigh and shake your head, “about to thank you for what you did.”

The wine god crosses his arms over your knees, leaning forward to comically wiggle his brows at you. “I don’t need a thank you,” he coos in a ridiculously suave manner. “Your smile is enough.”

Biting back a grin, you resort to pinching his cheeks. “You’re such a sap,” you tell him, pushing him off your knees and falling back to the sheets as you feel another wave of headache coming to hit you.

Hoseok only grins, lifting himself up to take a seat on the bed next to you. Without much thought, he reaches forth to brush away the stray hairs that flew over your face when you laid back. 

Whether or not you minded his gesture, you don’t make note of it, simply letting a quiet groan past your lips. "My head hurts though," you whine, eyes falling shut. 

"It happens," Hoseok hums, partly apologetic. Mortals get drunk more easily than gods, and you were drinking enough to be slurring confessions to him in the late hours of the night.  

For your sake, the wine god decidedly stands to help you with your hangover, hands brushing down your arms to seize your hands and encourage you to get up along with him. "Fortunately for you," he sings, pulling you up onto your feet—only to have you crash onto his chest. "I know someone who has a remedy for that."

You squint at him, somewhat suspicious, but nonetheless loop your arm around his, heavily leaning against his side as the two of you leave. Anything to gladly get the headache over with.

As it always is with Hoseok, this was another surprise.

(You suppose it’d be best for you to get used to such things, now that Hoseok has revealed his true nature to you. This, undoubtedly, would only be the beginning.)

Someone begrudgingly opens the door to a dwelling carved into the mountain, quite a bit far from your cave which led to Hoseok carrying you on his back halfway through. Peculiarly, faint yet janky music comes from inside, but even more peculiar is the pale man before you.

His presence definitely sobers you just a little bit more. He has the same ethereal, otherworldly glow as Hoseok tends to pose, and yet also different. His golden locks nearly shine in the sunlight—almost as if the sun focused solely on him.

Next to you, however, Hoseok also seems to be taken aback, but his was more so a bewildered shock. "Yoongi?"

Feline eyes that had been drenched with sleepy exhaustion and glaring at Hoseok turned confused and alarmed at the name used to address him. It was only when the stranger's eyes landed a good look at you as you stepped down from the wine god's hold that a flicker of understanding crossed his face. “Got yourself drunk again, hm?” Yoongi then amusingly says, “and with a friend too.”

Hoseok simply grins, so amicable with the stranger that it eases you enough to give him a timid smile and a small bow in greeting. "You seem a little intoxicated yourself," the wine god muses as you bashfully address his friend. "I suppose that means the remedy is at hand already?"

Yoongi simply sighs in defeat and wordlessly invites the two of you in, leaving the door open for Hoseok to guide you inside. The inside is definitely much better than your measly little cave with the house carved deeper into the mountain than you initially thought. Intricately chiseled furniture and decor fill the spaces in between, and before a fireplace lay… a satyr fiddling with a pan flute?

Suddenly, your headache was the last thing on your mind.

"Silenus!" Hoseok's gleeful laughter booms and startles you out of your stupor, watching as the wine god opens his arms wide to the delirious satyr. Silenus, finally registering the wine god's presence, grins and gets up, nearly stumbling over himself.

"My boy, welcome!"

It was only a matter of time before the satyr's eyes landed on you—they twinkle with mischief and amusement.

"Good morning," you could only greet, standing idly.

You couldn't help the fidgeting brought by your awkward and wary nature, doing your best not to rudely stare at the hooves he had for feet. Like the nymphs, you've never seen such creatures in person before, only heard of them from the stories of servants, or from the scholars in the palace who frowned upon the wild and lustful life these beings lived.

"She's the princess," a voice from behind you knowingly informs him. Yoongi, you realize, stands not far from you, leaning against a wall as he watches the whole scene unfold. 

You can't help the startled confusion. How does he know you?

The words, however, do click in Silenus' head. "Ah! The one you've been blabbering about?" he smugly jests with a nudge to Hoseok's side, earning a flustered look of shock from you as he offers you a nod of acknowledgement. "You are a pretty one, if I must say, my lady."

You nearly choke on your own spit. "Thank you," you stammer, as you steal a glance at the wine god next to him. Hoseok speaks of you in such a way?

Hoseok gladly took over the conversation then, not meeting your eyes as a blush came to his cheeks. "Alright, that's enough," he hurriedly grumbles, pulling out one of the nearby chairs of a table as he addresses the blond. "Yoongi, you know well what we're all in need of, yes?"

Silenus simply chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender as Hoseok gently ushers you to sit on the chair. "It's quite fortunate Yoongi here is around for us, aye?" he boisterously laughs, ushering Yoongi to follow him. "Come along, boy. Let us make breakfast, too."

You watch as the old satyr and the pale stranger moves about into the makeshift kitchen of his abode. "He's the one that raised me," Hoseok, next to you, leans in and whispers as he takes his seat at the table. "Don't mind him and his silly teasing. He simply wants to embarrass me."

A hum leaves your lips as you nod, faintly recalling the tale he shared with you yesterday. Silenus took the wine god in as a babe and raised him to be the rambunctious man he is today. You certainly see the resemblance between them action-wise.

In spite of the satyr's sleazy mannerisms and faint stench of wine and ale, you see the hints of his fatherly care in the way he brought out barley bread, cheese, fruits, and leftover meat for breakfast onto the table. He places a kind, grateful pat on Hoseok's back as the wine god lays out plates, and thanks Yoongi when he comes to the table with the remedy you've been hearing so much about.

(Envy festers within you. You were used to a different sort of a father.)

Even in the way he gingerly hands you three your respective wooden chalices, did you feel soft yet numb. "Here you go, princess," Silenus grins at you, "Yoongi's specialty."

"Thank you," you say as you gratefully take the cup from him, still timid as you look over to Hoseok for some guidance on what to do next. With everyone now sat at the table, the wine god simply downs the cup he was given, grimacing a little as he does, but ultimately finishes it all.

Silenus notices your reserved nature. "No need to act stiff, princess," he warmly assures you, "Yoongi here is a skilled healer that works wonders."

The words catch your attention, eyes flitting to the blond next to Silenus who simply acknowledges you with a small nod—just as reserved as you, it seems.

Healer? Is he the one Hoseok asked to heal me?

Nonetheless, you simply give them a bashful smile, finally bringing the cup closer to inspect it. The smell of it is an odd mix of spices and things you can't quite put your finger on, and, frankly, you think it better for you to not know. Brazenly, you bring it to your lips and—finally—drink. Like Hoseok, you wince at the strange concoction, but eventually manage to gulp it down.

Oddly, you do feel a bit better already. You take a sip of some more, eyeing the reclusive blond quietly making himself a sandwich. A skilled healer, hm?

"So," Silenus suddenly claps his hands together, knocking you out of your stupor as the satyr addresses both you and his fostered son. "When are you two getting married?"

You sputter out some of the tonic in your shock, and in panic of that, you almost choke trying to salvage any more of the drinks from falling from your lips. Hoseok, too, panics, handing you a nearby towel to wipe your lips with as he rubs circles onto your back.

"Silenus!"

The blond stranger and the old satyr only laugh and smile.

Silenus turned out to be a cheeky man fond of jokes, teasing, and drinking—one with a booming laughter that you've now known very well to hear and always seen with a smile on that bearded face of his. Perhaps, that is where Hoseok got his mischievous nature from, after all.

Yet, the old geezer also has a penchant for wisdom from his long years—a comfort, really, as his words of optimism do away with your worries the same way Hoseok's does. Silenus also tends to regale with stories, especially that of a young wine god under his care—much to the chagrin of Hoseok, himself.

You find yourself fortunate to have met him, even if it had been under hungover circumstances. 

As with Yoongi—or should you say Apollo?

(The gods have many names, but only one remains precious to them—or so you were told.)

You didn't think you would ever live to witness the presence of two gods, and yet you've dined with the sun god, danced with Hoseok to his music, and passed out drunk with him and the others at some parties. When Hoseok confirmed that it was indeedYoongi who healed you that day, you truly began to ponder whether there was something in your bloodline that gave you and your family such an affinity to gods.

Yoongi was quiet—similar to you, in a way—but brilliant as a god of music and arts like him is meant to be. The harmony he produces is unlike any other, and the words he writes for his verses drip with so much soul and heart that it makes you weep.

He would often complain that Hoseok was often a child he had to look out for, but you knew better than to only see those grumbles and not his genuine fondness for his half-brother's bright, carefree nature.

Hoseok is a stark difference from the rest of the pantheon, he once told you—being a relatively minor deity frees him from the heavy burdens and responsibilities a fully-fledged god is bound to, even if it does deprive him of his full potential to power and prestige.

The sun god continues his visits once in a while, sometimes to drink away his heartache or exhaustion with you, Hoseok, and Silenus, but sometimes to simply idle around the fireplace and bask in the small, hush conversations of travels, memories, and tales.   

You, yourself, have taken to setting loose along with them—making wine with Hoseok and Silenus, attending more gatherings in the woods and towns, meeting Agrios' sisters and brothers, and befriending nymphs, satyrs, and followers alike. Every night leaves you tired yet blissful, while every morn begins with you waking next to the wine god that brought you along these merriments.

Something, too, seems to have changed with Hoseok.

Though you can pretend not to notice, you are not saved from the restless nights you spend lying awake in bed thinking of the wine god’s lingering touches—of how he constantly treads the line between innocent and intimate. Hands on your waist as you two dance, a guiding hand on the small of your back, a passing brush of fingertips to your arms—such instances occupy your thoughts, making your heart skip a beat and leaving your senses to fixate on everything else he does.

Unwavering attention to your talking, a gaze feeling like they linger on your lips.

Fingertips always unconsciously reaching out for yours whenever you’re close by.

Eyes almost instantly searching for yours once you lose one another in the crowd.

You find yourself liking this game, letting him come closer and anticipating the next of his actions, in spite of knowing how easily you can be cast aside by someone like him, a god who can get everything he wants. You indulge in this delusion every once in a while, but ultimately leave it to Hoseok's unpredictable chaos.

As winter approached and the days got colder, however, most of the adrenaline died down as you and Hoseok forgo the gatherings to prepare for the harshest days. Silenus had welcomed you and Hoseok to his home during the season, which was definitely much better for the harsh cold than the cave you and Hoseok tried to make use of. (Though you don’t exactly know why a god like him would want to bear the brunt of winter when he can easily go to Olympus or elsewhere.)

“There.”

Broken away from your reveries, you come to see Hoseok inspecting the thick wool scarf he had wound around you. There’s a concentrated furrow in his brows as he thinks whether the knot was secure or satisfactory enough.

“She won't die so easily in the cold, boy,” Silenus, who had been occupied with cleaning his pan flute, mused from his seat before the fireplace. A giggle escapes your lips as Hoseok half-heartedly rolls his eyes at his mentor’s words.

The two of you plan to gather firewood on your way back after visiting Aldora and Alenka in their part of the woods, and Hoseok insisted on the thick scarf. “It’s better to be safe,” he murmurs under his breath, as you roll your eyes and grab his arm to head out the door, ushering Agrios to follow suit.   

“We’ll be back soon, Silenus!” you bid goodbye, waving warmly as you’re greeted by a cold gust of wind. Your breath forms a faint smoke of air as the icy sensation tickles your exposed skin. At the shiver that seizes you, Hoseok smiles as you bury your face into the thick scarf. “As I’ve told you,” he says as he lingers closer, “you needn’t accompany me.”

Stubborn, you tighten your hold around his arm, playfully glaring up at his smug grin. “And as I’ve told you, I want to go out and see Alenka and Aldora,” you quip, pushing him slightly as you turn your attention to the forest you’ve become accustomed to. The towering trees that had been a canopy of greens and oranges were now barren, their dark bark and branches a stark contrast against the snow and the blue sky.

There are moments where you’ve quietly reflected on the months you’ve been here, on how much things have changed since Theseus le—

Something cold hits the back of your head, a shocked gasp leaving your lips as you whip around to see where on Earth that came from. The culprit, of course, is Hoseok, who was forming balls of snow in his hands. “I’m hurt, princess,” he dramatically sighs despite his eyes glinting with mischief. “Here I thought you wanted to spend time with me.”

You dodge his next snowball in time, wide eyes now squinting at him. “Insufferable,” you grumble, taking a quick duck behind a tree and gathering your own projectile, landing a hit on his shoulder as he was trying to flee for cover. “Aha!”

An unamused leopard stares at the two of you, waiting for the two of you to quit giggling and running around with eyes of judgment. “Agrios, help!” you squeal, squealing as one of Hoseok’s snowballs struck your leg.

“Don’t you dare, traitor!” the wine god immediately retaliates.

You look over your shoulder and see him fully running after you at this point, and just as you are about to strike back, a root ensnares your foot, sending you crashing forth. Arms wound around your waist, pulling you back in time for Hoseok, who caught you at the last minute, to take most of the fall.

The two of you fall on your knees, a grunt and a hiss leaving you both as you recoil from the impact and the cold ground. You look at your companion, his dark curls much more unruly and his tunic and cloak disheveled from all the running you two did. In spite of that, he was looking over at you and assessing your state, adjusting your scarf yet again. “Are you alright?”

Hoseok watched as you started breathlessly chuckling and failing miserably at hiding it. This, however, was a sign to him that you were alright, beginning to smile, himself. “Truce?” he asks, watching as you grin back at him.

Your hands were cold with what remained of your previous snowball as you grabbed at his cheeks, doing well to squeeze it about as he gasps and shrieks at the icy touch. “Truce,” you finally affirm, laughing at his dramatic pout of defeat.

Funnily, even in the chill of the winter morn, all you could feel throughout was warmth.

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿 ◁ || ▷ 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @dreamamubarak @unknownwalkingobject @park-jimin-isnt-real

[btsmosphere]

autumn with: hobi

~pairing: hobi x reader ~word count: 2.5k (bullet fic!) ~genre: fluff fluff and more fluff, college au, friends to lovers ~rating: g (no warnings:))

a look at autumn and halloween with our beloved hobi! since I’m feeling very fall lately, I went on a hunt and found some lovely prompt lists from @crockettmarcel @flufftober and @lavenderotpprompts 💜I shook them all together to make a snippet of autumn for each of the boys- at the end, I’ll include the list I put together for hobi!

also a thank you to @moccahobi​ and @ssaboala​ for reading this and helping keep me in the autumn spirit!! I really appreciate it🥰

autumn with: masterlist

Everyone moves back into the dorm for the start of term in September

It’s not the dramatic reunion some might think, everyone turns up in dribs and drabs instead of all arriving at once

You chose to head back pretty early

In fact, so early that you aren’t sure anyone else is here yet

Well, someone has to be the first, right?

It feels a bit barren, but it’s quiet and there’s something nice in that too. You stop for a bit in the hallway between all the rooms, where there are big windows and you can see the trees, the ends of the leaves starting to curl and brown

A huge cacophony of what sounds like the kitchen falling down shakes you

After a moment frozen, you turn towards the sound

It definitely came from the kitchen

But the door is still standing there as if nothing happens

Is there a ghost in your dorm? Should you have stayed back and waited until there was safety in numbers? Is this the beginning of your very own horror movie??

A loud curse echoes from the kitchen and you laugh instead

Hobi.

When you enter the kitchen, you find flour splatted on the floor, upturned bowl and one Jung Hoseok with his hair sticking up- you’re pretty sure he’s run his floury fingers through it, unless he’s going for some reverse Guy Fieri look

Unable to control your laughter, you set to work together

Hobi wants to make cookies

Shouldn’t be too hard

He has a goal this year, he says. He’s going to take up baking as a hobby so he can feed everyone nice things

You have to admit, when he lists off the cinnamon buns, apple pies and chocolate brownies he wants to make, you find your mouth watering. So you’re going to help him make those darn cookies

Your intervention might be the only thing that gets them out alive, to be honest

But Hobi is grinning so widely when you finally get to bite into them that you encourage him to bake something else soon

It’s been a long time away, and the plate of cookies doesn’t make it to the morning, having been slowly eaten by you two as you stayed curled up over the kitchen table cradling hot chocolates and laughing at each other

The kitchen lights were warm while it was dark outside. Now the morning light is the opposite, cold and pale as it wakes to frostbitten lawns

Hobi crawls out of bed while you’re blearily snacking on cereal

The moment he sees you, he yells and pulls back, hiding behind the door with just his face and fluffy hair visible

Oh. He’s topless

“I got flour on my only top,” he complains, “I haven’t unpacked anything yet.”

You call him a lazybones, but still go to fish something out of your wardrobe

It’s on the bigger side, but cropped, and he looks a little funny wearing it. Your style is so different from his, but he doesn’t complain

He eats toast and looks thoroughly adorable, dammit

It’s October before he completely unpacks

It’s chaotic, but you turn a blind eye. At least he’s done it now, and won’t have to go rooting through a suitcase every time he wants something

You should have foreseen, though, that with one victory, that only leaves something else weird to happen instead

You can never escape the weird

Not with Hobi

Which is why you’re staring at him now, stuck between shock and laughter

He’s in the kitchen, having forcibly sat you down to watch his fashion show, and right now you don’t think he could physically be wearing any more jumpers

You fend off the laughter and go straight for incredulity

“What are you doing?”

“It’s sweater season!” he defends himself

“It’s not even that cold out! And we’re not even out!”

“Let’s change that, then”

He clearly ignored the first part of your argument, but here you are outside, winding between the trees away from your dorm

Okay, so maybe it is a little chilly out

But there’s no way you’ll give that to Hobi. He’s still wearing entirely too many sweaters, even after you made him take some off

Anyway, you bite your lip. He’s having fun- his cheeks are round and a bit red as he smiles, looking around. He breathes in, rubbing his hands together and looking like all is right with the world now autumn in on its way

Then a leaf smacks him in the face

He flails around for a split second, blowing little raspberries as a defense mechanism against the onslaught of the leaf

All the while, you howl with laughter until he turns to you with a pout

It only makes you laugh more

“Autumn loves you as much as you love it!” you giggle

Hobi folds his arms, as far as the sweater bundle will let him

“I bet you can’t catch a leaf”

So now you’re running around like a lunatic

How did it end up this way, with Hobi laughing at you?? He’s the weird one

Your weird friend is lying back on a leafy carpet when you skip over, triumphantly holding a bright red leaf above your head

He struggles to sit up, but claps and woops for you

He has to clap with his arms straight

To save him the trouble, you flop down next to him, panting little gusts into the air

They show up in front of your nose, ghostly and lingering in the air; is it really that cold already?

It probably has something to do with the fact it’s also getting dark now, but neither of you move

Clouds drift over, just as lazy as you

You’ve been there a while, and you aren’t out of breath any more. The air is cool as it fills your lungs

Whispering leaves announce Hobi rolling over to face you

“Are you cold?”

And you’ve been so busy feeling warm inside at the afternoon filled with giggles and the prospect of autumn setting in that you hadn’t noticed

But cold is a side effect of the season

You were only shivering a bit

He smothers your protests and denial, knowing it’s only a bid to keep up your disdain at his outfit

His smug grin won’t let you forget about it when he finally thrusts a woolly cardigan over you, practically lying on top of you now, the result of your scrambling playfight that, admittedly, may have defeated the need of a warm jumper

Now that you have it though, it’s not bad, though no substitute for his warmth which leaves as he slides off to sit on the ground beside you

You cuddle into the material like Hobi had earlier, and he glows

The rest of the day is warm, even as light leaks from the sky

You’re back in the warm kitchen with warm food and warm laughter

And all the way until Halloween you’re caught up in the whirlwind of Hobi

It’s a budget Halloween, of course. You’re students, after all

Luckily, as Hobi puts it, some of the trees nearby are apple trees, and he’s hell-bent on apple bobbing on Halloween

“It’s only right,” he’ll say

And of course you’ll go along with it. One look at his hopeful grin is always enough to get you agreeing to his hairbrained schemes

No one knows if it’s legal to take or eat the apples, being on public property

Or if they’re edible

But surely all apples are edible?

You hope so, you think gingerly as you place another one in your bag

It may have looked more picture-perfect with those cute baskets, or if you were in a meadow, but instead your friends are all clustered under a line of apple trees that grow along the road, putting the apples into your backpacks like it’s something shady, underhand

Just as you reach for another, Hobi shrieks, and from your position sitting on his shoulders you wobble perilously

Looking around in alarm, you grab at his bobble hat for stability, feeling him clutch tighter to your legs

Somehow, you both stay upright as Tae runs off giggling, being shooed by Jin

“What if yn dropped an apple on his head, you punk!” he was yelling, “we don’t need to re-discover the theory of gravity!”

“Got enough?” Hobi asks

Confirming, you let him crouch to put you down

You’re both a little breathless

“Let’s see”

He bends closer, pulling your backpack open to see the shining apples nestled there

“I’ll make a good pie with these,” he promises

You give him a look

“I really will this time!” he exclaims at that, “the brownies were an exception!”

Chuckling, you acquiesce

“Alright,” this is how it always goes, “I trust you”

In the end, the home-made Halloween is great

Everyone has decorated their doorway – though you wonder how many Hobi actually helped with – and you take turns rushing up and down, calling ‘trick or treat’ like little kids

Of course, you all have costumes, as well as little bags for sweets, which are only plastic bags from the supermarket, but Hobi glued little paper fangs onto the top

Hobi’s a witch, and his black cloak swooshes out behind him

Of course this means he won’t stop running up and down the hall even after the lot of you have squished together in a pile to eat sweets in the kitchen

“I’ll eat all of yours!” Jimin threatens

This brings Hobi dashing back again

The evening is fun and full of you and Hobi feeding each other sweets, pretending you aren’t giving him the ones you know he likes the most

“ugh, another one of these, I don’t like them that much”

You’re not sure if he believes you

The others certainly don’t, but you ignore the way they look at you as you hold another up to Hobi’s lips

Hobi swears off the horror film later, but you follow him to the kitchen

Honestly, it’s out of fear for the apple pie

And nothing else at all

You laugh together and steal some of the leftover sweets as he makes it through one failed batch of dough

Namjoon goes to bed

You’re pretty sure the others have fallen asleep in the living room

They can have some pie tomorrow, if it ever gets made. Or if it does, then if it isn’t all eaten before they can get to it

This time around, Hobi deems the batch successful and finally it’s in the oven, complete with strawberry jam leaking out of the sides

“It has to look spooky!”

Hobi falls into a chair beside you, covered in flour and fruit and looking much better than he has any right to

“Let’s go outside, the pie has to bake for a while”

You don’t question your enthusiasm to go with him

At this point, you get excited along with him, and after seeing how brilliant the stars look, you can only half concentrate

Staring at him instead is just as tempting

You know the joy you’ll find there

It’s darker as you pass under the trees, further from the building

Still you don’t look away

Did you see that?”

Hobi gasps, a hand flying out to catch your own

His fingers around soft around your wrist, and slip down to grasp your hand

Eventually, he brings his gaze back to earth, frowning around at you

Blinking, you realise he asked you something

“See what?”

Your voice is no more than a breath in the air

All he says is “look”

There are other things you would rather look at, but you turn your head to the sky

You’ve stopped walking at this point, just standing still among the leaves

The tree branches stretch into the sky, much thinner than they used to look

You breathe

Hobi’s hand is still holding yours, calling you back to earth, but you force your eyes to search the heavens a bit more

You’re about the ask Hobi what he’s on about when you see it, at last

A flicker, quick enough that you could have missed it in a blink

Satisfied, Hobi turns to you

This time, it’s his turn to admire your face as it transforms, disbelief to wonder

“Was that-?”

“A shooting star!”

You wonder if he really was a witch, and if so what kind of spell he cast to make this Halloween work out so well

He holds his hand out

Doesn’t even ask

Without knowing, you realise your trust has grown well enough, so firm within your chest, that you take it without a second thought

And now you’re dancing

He really loves this cape, and spins you around as an excuse to make it fly behind him

Almost losing your balance, you grab him harder, laughing

And he pulls you closer once you stand up

Your feet are scuffling in the broken leaves like so many times before as you messed around

You trip and lose the rhythm, and spin too many times that you should stop, but you end up dizzy with a wide grin

When he kisses you, it’s like you had done it a hundred times before

No questions in your mind, you lean in more, hands sliding into the warmth under his silly cloak. And you wonder if you’re really just dizzy from spinning

The apple pie burns

You and Hobi still eat it, and the inside is really very nice

Like you would have before, you share spoonfuls, eating the whole thing over gossip and laughter

Only this time, you curl in his lap, and then he in yours because it gets uncomfy

In the morning, Namjoon finds everyone out of bed, sleeping on the sofas or the kitchen table, as is your case

And no one is surprised, or seems to bat an eye beyond smiling at the two of you

You wrap up in each other’s clothes, and walk under the trees, and dance, and suffer the results of baking- which will get better, he promises every single time

And you trust him

Thank you for reading!! this was made with the following prompts: baking - back to school/university – “I bet you can’t catch a leaf” - wearing someone else’s clothes - trick or treating - apple picking – warmth - “it’s sweater season!” - “are you cold?” - “I trust you” - shooting stars - first dance

If you enjoyed this, a comment would be so appreciated, it makes it all worth it🥰🥰 find my other autumn drabbles here

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine​ send me a message if you want to be tagged in my “autumn with” updates!!

[keehomania]

heartbeat (심장박동) — jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

the dawn broke with a gentle caress across the landscape, casting a golden hue over the rolling hills and lush valleys. the sun, a celestial artist, painted the sky in strokes of pink and orange, reflecting its light upon the dew-kissed leaves of ancient trees. the air was crisp, carrying the scent of blooming cherry blossoms that danced in the soft breeze, their delicate petals fluttering like whispers of spring’s embrace. birds sang a symphony of melodies, their harmonious notes merging with the rustling of leaves, creating an orchestra of natural beauty that celebrated the beginning of a new day.

yet, this serene tableau of nature stood in stark contrast to the scene of devastation that unfolded in its wake. the earth had groaned and heaved, unleashing its wrath upon the serene landscape. an earthquake, a violent tremor of nature’s own making, had shattered the tranquility. the ground had buckled and cracked, splitting roads into jagged scars and toppling buildings that once stood as symbols of human achievement. streets were strewn with debris—broken glass, twisted metal, and splintered wood—forming a chaotic mosaic of destruction. the once-proud skyline was now marred by the skeletal remains of what had been homes and businesses. in the aftermath, smoke and dust hung in the air like a mournful shroud, obscuring the sun’s light and turning the beautiful morning into a somber canvas of ruin.

you had graduated from medical school that day. it was meant to be a day of celebration, a milestone achieved after years of relentless study and sacrifice. the ceremony had been a blur of proud smiles, academic robes, and congratulatory embraces. but the elation of that moment was short-lived, overshadowed by the impending catastrophe. you had planned to share the joy with your sister, who had been your pillar of strength through the trials and tribulations of medical school. she was your everything—the constant in your life, the one who had stood by you with unwavering support.

as you made your way home, your heart swelled with excitement at the thought of celebrating your achievement together. but when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation. your home, once a haven of comfort and warmth, was now reduced to a heap of rubble. the realization struck you like a physical blow. there was no home. there was no sister. the world, which had seemed so vibrant and full of promise, was now an unrecognizable wasteland.

desperation drove you to search through the debris, your hands tearing through the wreckage with frantic determination. hours felt like an eternity as you sifted through the shattered remnants of your life. and then, amidst the ruins, you found her. she lay among the debris, her face pale and her breaths shallow. she was barely alive, her fragile form a haunting reminder of the day’s cruel turn of events. you rushed her to the nearest hospital, a frantic and disheveled figure, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon you. the hospital, too, bore the scars of the earthquake. the once orderly hallways were now chaotic, filled with the injured and the desperate. nurses and doctors moved with frantic efficiency, their faces marked by exhaustion and determination. you clung to the hope that she would recover, that the skilled hands of the medical professionals could restore her to health.

days passed in a haze of worry and sleepless nights. you watched and waited, your heartache mingling with hope. and then, the blow came. you were informed that your sister had passed away. the news struck you like a dagger, but the explanation that followed shattered you further. she had not died from her wounds or the effects of the earthquake but from a medical error. The very system you had dedicated your life to had failed her.

the gravity of the situation was almost too much to bear. the room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing in as the weight of your grief and anger grew heavier. you felt a profound sense of betrayal, the very institution meant to save lives had failed you and your sister. it was a cruel irony, the culmination of your dream to be the best doctor, only to be faced with the harsh reality of its imperfections. in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow, a fire ignited within you—a resolve born of pain and loss. you vowed to honor your sister’s memory by dedicating yourself to medicine with an unyielding commitment to prevent such errors. it was a promise made in the darkest of times, a beacon of hope amidst the wreckage of your dreams.

the operating room was a sanctuary of focused intensity. the sterile, clinical environment buzzed with a sense of urgency as doctor jung hoseok, one of the best surgeons in the hospital, prepared for yet another high-stakes surgery. the cacophony of beeping monitors, the rhythmic whoosh of ventilators, and the murmur of medical staff created a symphony of controlled chaos.

you stood by hoseok’s side, your heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and determination. your hands were steady but your mind was a whirlwind, knowing the weight of responsibility that rested on everyone’s shoulders. the patient on the table, a young man in his early twenties, had sustained severe internal injuries from a collapsing building. Hoseok’s calm, authoritative presence was a beacon of reassurance amidst the turmoil.

“scalpel,” his voice cut through the tension, his tone clipped and precise. you handed him the instrument with practiced ease, watching as his skilled fingers moved with a deftness born of years of experience.

the surgery was a dance of precision and skill. he navigated through the intricate web of damaged organs with an expertise that left you in awe. his movements were a blend of grace and efficiency, every incision, every stitch, a testament to his dedication and mastery.

“clamps,” he called out, his gaze never leaving the patient. you quickly provided the tools, your own focus unwavering despite the mounting exhaustion. the room was hot, the smell of antiseptic mingling with the acrid tang of blood. as the surgery reached its climax, his expression remained a mask of concentration. the minutes stretched into hours as he worked tirelessly to stabilize the patient. you wiped sweat from your brow, your heart pounding as you held your breath, praying for a successful outcome.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, hoseok lifted his gaze, a weary but triumphant smile playing at the corners of his lips. “we did it,” he said, his voice carrying a note of relief. the patient’s vital signs stabilized, a small but significant victory amidst the overwhelming despair of the day.

but the triumph was short-lived. as you and hoseok stepped out of the operating room, you were greeted by the grim reality of the hospital’s waiting area. the scene was chaotic, filled with an overwhelming number of patients, their faces etched with pain and fear. the earthquake’s aftermath had left a trail of devastation, and the hospital was a crucible of suffering. you let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. hoseok placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “we need to work as efficiently as we can,” he said, his tone steady and encouraging. “every moment counts.”

nodding, you moved swiftly through the maze of makeshift beds and emergency stations. the injured and the ill were everywhere—some lying on stretchers, others sitting in the narrow aisles, waiting for care. the sight was heart-wrenching, and you fought to keep your composure.

then, you spotted her—a young girl, no more than eight or nine, her face streaked with tears. she was clinging desperately to her coat, her small frame shaking with sobs. her wide, frightened eyes and the way she clutched at her coat stirred a profound sense of deja vu within you. she reminded you so much of your sister, and the resemblance was almost unbearable. you approached her gently, crouching down to her level. “hey, sweetheart,” you said softly, trying to mask the lump in your throat. “what’s your name?”

“jiwoo,” she sniffled, her voice trembling. “i want my mommy.” your heart ached as you lifted her into your arms, her tiny body trembling against you. “it’s gonna be okay,” you murmured, holding her close. “we’re gonna find your mommy, alright?” her cries were muffled against your coat as you walked with her through the bustling corridors. the sights and sounds of the injured—wounded soldiers, distressed families, and patients in various states of trauma—flashed by in a blur. each face you passed seemed to tell a story of suffering and hope, and the intensity of the scene made your stomach churn.

you guided jiwoo to the examination room, where a nurse greeted you with a warm but tired smile. “thank you,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude. “please, take good care of her.” the nurse nodded, taking her into her care, and you watched as the little girl’s gaze followed you with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. as you turned to leave, you felt a deep pang of sorrow and a renewed sense of purpose. each patient you saw, each story of survival and pain, was a reminder of why you had chosen this path.

the chaos of the hospital continued unabated as the hours dragged on, each moment marked by the relentless tide of patients streaming in from the aftermath of the earthquake. the corridors were a cacophony of urgent voices, desperate cries, and the clatter of medical equipment. hoseok moved among the chaos with a calm determination, his eyes scanning the scene with a mixture of resolve and weariness.

he paused briefly, his gaze taking in the grim reality of the situation. “we need to help everyone,” he said, his voice tinged with a fierce, unwavering conviction. “i want to, no, i need to help everyone.” his words were not just a declaration but a deep-seated promise that seemed to radiate from his very core. you understood the gravity of his statement all too well. the hospital, with its limited space and resources, was barely able to keep up with the flood of casualties. but his commitment was palpable, a beacon of hope amidst the stark limitations of the facilities. his eyes, usually so bright and cheerful, were now shadowed with a mixture of exhaustion and unyielding resolve.

“i promise you,” you said, matching his fervor with your own. “we will find a way to help as many people as we can.” your words were a pledge, born of the same fierce determination that drove him. his tired eyes softened with gratitude as he offered you a fleeting smile. “thank you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of warmth despite the fatigue that marked his features.

the moment of camaraderie was abruptly shattered by the anguished screams of a man. your head snapped towards the sound, your heart racing. a middle-aged man was crawling on the floor, his leg grotesquely open and bleeding profusely. his face was contorted with pain, and his cries cut through the din of the hospital like a knife. without a second thought, you and hoseok sprang into action. he barked orders with a commanding authority that drew the attention of nearby staff, and you quickly moved to assist. together, you helped load the man onto a stretcher, your hands working with a practiced urgency.

as the stretcher was wheeled away, you couldn't help but be struck by the sight. the man’s injury, so raw and brutal, mirrored the vision of your sister in the hospital’s aftermath. it was a harsh reminder of the fragility of life and the brutal reality of trauma. the sight made your knees buckle, a wave of nausea and grief crashing over you. before you could fully react, hoseok’s firm grip was on your arms. his touch was grounding, a lifeline amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. “pull yourself together,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “everything will be fine. we’re here to help.”

his words were a balm to your frayed nerves, and you blinked away the tears that had begun to well up in your eyes. you took a deep breath, drawing strength from his presence and the urgency of the situation. “i’m okay,” you said, nodding with determination. “i’ll be okay.”

his gaze remained fixed on you for a moment longer, his expression a blend of concern and encouragement. then, with a decisive nod, he turned back to the chaos of the hospital, his focus unshaken. you followed him, your resolve steeled. the sight of the injured and the suffering no longer overwhelmed you but fueled your determination. each patient, each cry for help, was a call to action—a reminder of why you had chosen this path and why you would continue to fight against the odds.

the hospital’s corridors were a maze of urgent activity, and you moved through them with a focused intensity, guided by the steady presence of hoseok. the once immaculate walls were now splattered with the harsh realities of an earthquake’s aftermath, the floors slick with spilled fluids and the air thick with the acrid scent of antiseptic and exhaustion.

the first patient you approached was an elderly woman with a fractured arm and a deep gash on her forehead. her eyes, though tired and pained, reflected a resilience that touched you deeply. you carefully cleaned her wounds, speaking in soothing tones as you worked. “you’re going to be okay,” you assured her, your voice gentle. “we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of.”

hoseok stood nearby, his eyes attentive as he watched you work. he occasionally offered guidance, his voice calm and authoritative. “apply a sterile dressing over the wound,” he instructed, his tone carrying the weight of his expertise. “we need to monitor her for signs of infection.”

as you followed his directions, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze softened with approval. “you’re very gentle,” he remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “you have a way of calming people with your touch.” you offered him a small smile, the compliment a balm to your tired spirit. “thank you,” you replied. “among the staff, it seems like no one else is as driven to help everyone as we are. it’s not just about doing our job—it’s about making a difference.”

he nodded thoughtfully, his expression thoughtful. “you’re right,” he said. “in times like these, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of patients. but it’s our dedication and compassion that make the difference.” you moved on to your next patient, a young boy with a deep cut on his leg. his face was streaked with tears, and he clung to his father, who looked equally distraught.

you knelt beside him, your hands gentle as you cleaned the wound. “i know it hurts,” you said softly, trying to comfort him. “but we’re gonna fix you up, and you’ll be running around again in no time.”

hoseok joined you, examining the boy’s injury with a practiced eye. “we’ll need to stitch this up,” he said, his voice reassuring. “but first, let’s make sure he’s numb so he doesn’t feel any pain.”

as you administered the local anesthetic, he watched with a critical but approving gaze. “you’re doing well,” he said. “Yyur patience with the children is remarkable. it’s important to keep their fears at bay.” you nodded, grateful for his guidance. “it’s easy to be patient when you’re reminded of what’s at stake,” you replied. “when you see their families, you understand just how crucial every moment is.”

next, you tended to a woman in her thirties who had sustained multiple fractures. Her eyes were filled with a mix of pain and fear, and her breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps. you worked swiftly but carefully, applying splints and checking her vital signs. hoseok stood beside you, offering occasional words of advice and encouragement. “she’s in a lot of pain,” you said, your voice tight with concern. “we need to manage her pain effectively to prevent shock.”

hoseok nodded, his eyes sharp as he assessed the situation. “administer a dose of morphine,” he instructed. “we need to ensure she’s stable before we can move her to the operating room.” you administered the medication, watching as the woman’s breathing slowly eased. hoseok placed a hand on your shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. “you’re handling this exceptionally well,” he said. “your attention to detail and compassion are exactly what we need.”

as the hours wore on, you continued to work tirelessly under hoseok’s watchful eye. each patient presented a new challenge, and you tackled each with a blend of skill and empathy. from applying dressings to performing initial assessments, every action was a step toward healing and hope. despite the exhaustion that gnawed at you, his praise and the knowledge that you were making a difference kept you going. the hospital’s once chaotic atmosphere began to feel more manageable, and your sense of purpose grew stronger with each patient you helped.

at one point, as you paused to take a brief break, hoseok joined you, his expression a mix of admiration and weariness. “you’ve been incredible today,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “your dedication is inspiring. it’s not often that you find someone with such a genuine drive to help.”

you smiled, the compliment a bright spot in the midst of the chaos. “i just want to make sure we’re doing everything we can,” you said. “in times like these, it’s about more than just medical care. it’s about being there for people when they need it the most.” hoseok’s eyes softened with a mixture of respect and gratitude. “and you’ve done just that,” he said. “it’s an honor to work alongside someone who shares the same commitment to helping others.”

the atmosphere in the hospital was charged with a tense energy as the chief of administrators confronted hoseok in the bustling hallway. the chief, a stout man with a stern expression, gestured sharply with a stack of papers. his voice, though not loud, was laden with authority and frustration. “hoseok,” the chief said, his tone clipped. “you’re being rash. you can’t seriously expect us to take care of every patient with the resources we have. this hospital is far too small to handle this influx. we’re stretched beyond our limits.”

hoseok’s face darkened with a mix of anger and resolve. “it is possible,” he snapped, his voice rising in frustration. “it’s possible if we put in the work and don’t just accept the limitations as insurmountable obstacles. we have to try.”

the chief’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “i understand your dedication, but you’re pushing the boundaries of reason. if you were anyone else, you’d be reprimanded severely, perhaps even fired. you’re only being tolerated because of your skills.” the words were a cold slap, but hoseok’s reaction was fierce. “if my commitment to my patients is a problem,” he said, his voice sharp and defiant, “then maybe it’s this system that needs to change. i won’t be dissuaded by bureaucracy.”

with that, he turned on his heel, his stride purposeful and quick as he stormed off down the corridor. the chief’s frustrated mutterings followed him, but hoseok was already lost in his own storm of emotions. you watched him go, torn between the need to respect his space and the desire to offer support. without a second thought, you followed him, your footsteps echoing in the emptying corridor. you found him standing by a large window in an empty lounge area, his back to you as he gazed out at the darkening sky. the setting sun cast a warm, golden hue over the scene, but it did little to ease the storm brewing within him.

you hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment. the silence between you was thick with unspoken words, and the gravity of the situation pressed heavily on your shoulders. finally, you approached him, your voice soft but resolute.

“hoseok,” you began, gently. “i know the situation is overwhelming. I know what the chief said—he’s right about the limitations we’re facing. but i want you to know something.” he turned to face you, his expression a blend of exhaustion and a flicker of vulnerability. “what is it?” he asked, his voice strained but curious.

“i understand your determination,” you continued, your gaze steady. “i understand it more than you might think. i’ve faced loss and pain, and it drives me to do everything i can to help others. i’d do anything in my power to make sure your idea succeeds. because while i can’t bring my sister back, this is the least I can do. i’ll have your back, no matter what.”

his eyes softened with gratitude, the harsh lines of frustration easing as he listened to you. “thank you,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with sincere appreciation. “your support means more than i can express. it’s hard to keep going when it feels like the world is against us.”

you smiled, the gesture a small comfort in the midst of the storm. “we’ll make it happen,” you assured him. “we’ll find a way. we have to.” he nodded, the resolute spark returning to his eyes. “yes,” he agreed. “we will. together, we can make a difference. thank you for standing by me.” you shared a moment of silent understanding, the bond between you strengthened by shared determination and mutual respect. as you both prepared to return to the fray, the sense of unity and purpose was a powerful reminder of why you were here—to fight for every patient, to push through the limits, and to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds.

you stepped outside into the cool night air, desperately seeking a reprieve from the ceaseless pressure of the hospital. the city, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, bore the marks of the earthquake’s fury. the streets were littered with debris, and the remnants of collapsed buildings loomed like broken skeletons against the skyline. the sky, a deep indigo, seemed too vast and indifferent to the suffering below.

the air was sharp and carried with it the distant sounds of sirens and the hushed murmurs of survivors. you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your racing heart. yet, the sight of the devastation—once familiar landmarks now in ruins—overwhelmed you. every corner, every shattered window, was a reminder of the chaos that had turned lives upside down. it felt as though the world had been upended, just as your own had been.

returning to the hospital was no easier. the interior was a frenetic blur of activity, the waiting room packed with patients, each one bearing their own story of agony and loss. the sight struck you like a physical blow. It was as if each face held a mirror to your own pain, reflecting the loss of your sister and the desperation you felt to make things right. you forced yourself to focus, to push past the wave of memories that threatened to engulf you. your next patient, an elderly man with a deep laceration on his abdomen, needed immediate attention. you moved with practiced efficiency, cleaning and stitching his wound with hands that trembled despite your best efforts to keep them steady.

the elderly man winced occasionally, his eyes cloudy with pain but also trust. You spoke to him softly, trying to offer some comfort. “you’re doing great,” you reassured him. “we’re almost done, and soon you’ll be on the road to recovery.” his breathing was labored, but he nodded in acknowledgment, his fingers grasping the edge of the examination table. you worked meticulously, careful to ensure each stitch was placed correctly. the procedure was intense, but you found solace in the rhythm of your actions, the repetition allowing you to block out the chaotic thoughts that threatened to invade.

finally, the wound was closed, and the elderly man’s breathing began to even out as the pain eased. you cleaned up, your movements automatic, your exhaustion palpable. as you finished, you collapsed into a chair beside the bed, your head falling into your hands. the weight of the day seemed to press down on you, and you could no longer remember the last time you had slept or even rested properly.

the door creaked open, and you barely registered hoseok’s entrance. he walked in with the calm assurance that had become a hallmark of his presence. his eyes scanned the room, taking in the patient’s steady, restful state. he then turned his gaze to you, noting your worn-out appearance. with a gentle step, he approached and took a seat in the chair next to yours. his presence was a comforting anchor amidst the storm of exhaustion and emotions. you could feel the warmth of his body close by, and despite the chaos, it offered a rare moment of tranquility.

you could feel your eyes growing heavy, the fatigue finally overtaking you. as you drifted into sleep, his gaze remained fixed on you. he watched as the strain on your face eased, replaced by a serene expression. it was a stark contrast to the tumultuous day, a brief moment of peace in the midst of a whirlwind.

his smile was soft, a mix of admiration and affection. he leaned back in the chair, letting his gaze linger on you. the sight of you, so vulnerable and yet so resolute, stirred something deep within him. he whispered to the quiet room, “what are you, indeed? peaceful at all times. what are you?” his question hung in the air, a contemplative murmur to the stillness of the night. as you slept, your breaths steady and even, hoseok remained by your side, his thoughts a tangled web of admiration and concern. the hospital’s relentless pace continued outside, but within this small, quiet corner, there was a rare moment of stillness—a respite from the storm, where two souls found solace in each other’s presence amidst the chaos.

as you slept fitfully, a small, folded photograph slipped from your pocket and fluttered to the floor. hoseok’s keen eyes caught the movement, and he picked up the photo with a gentle curiosity. he unfolded it carefully, revealing a picture of a little girl—her bright eyes and infectious smile captured in a moment of pure joy.

hia heart sank as he studied the photograph, the resemblance to the patient you had treated earlier unmistakable. the realization struck him hard. this was the sister you had spoken of, the one whose loss had driven your unyielding determination. the weight of the truth settled heavily in his chest, and he felt a pang of sorrow for your loss. with a tender, sad smile, hoseok tucked the photograph back into your pocket, his fingers brushing softly against the fabric. he watched you, the burden of your pain and the drive that had fueled your tireless work now deeply understood.

as the night wore on, you stirred in your sleep, caught in the midst of a vivid dream. In your dream, you were in a beautiful meadow, bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. the air was filled with the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a serene melody. amidst this tranquil setting, you saw her—your sister. she was there, as clear and radiant as the sun itself, her smile warming the entire scene. you reached out, your heart leaping at the sight of her, but she remained just out of your grasp. every step you took towards her seemed to distance her further away, and your pleas for her to come closer went unanswered. you could feel the overwhelming love and longing that had been bottled up inside you, a potent mix of joy and heartache.

but as you stretched out your arms, the dream began to dissolve. the colors bled together, the image of your sister fading into the indistinct blur of waking reality. you jolted awake, tears streaming down your face as you realized it had been nothing but a fleeting dream. the emptiness and loss that had filled your heart so vividly in the dream now echoed painfully in the real world. you sobbed quietly, the grief of the dream and the reality of your sister’s absence crashing together in a wave of sorrow. hoseok, sensing your distress, immediately moved to your side. he wrapped his arms around you with a comforting embrace, his presence a steady anchor in the midst of your emotional storm.

“it was her,” you choked out between sobs. “she was right there, how could it be just a dream?” his voice was soothing, filled with a deep, empathetic understanding. “i know it hurts,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back. “it’s hard when dreams feel so real. but she’s with you in your heart. i promise you, we’ll get through this.”

he held you close, his warmth a balm to your aching soul. “everything will be okay,” he continued, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here, and we’ll face it together.” as you leaned into his embrace, the comfort of his words and the strength of his support began to soothe the raw edges of your grief. the reality of the hospital and the endless stream of patients loomed in the background, but in that moment, all that mattered was the connection between you and hoseok. his presence was a testament to the solidarity and hope that could still be found amidst the overwhelming challenges.

the following morning, the hospital buzzed with its usual rhythm of controlled chaos. you had barely begun your rounds when the loudspeaker crackled to life, calling out an emergency in the er. hoseok’s eyes met yours, concern etched into his features as the announcement detailed the situation.

without a word, you both sprinted towards the room, hearts pounding. as you rounded the corner, the sight that greeted you made your breath catch in your throat. there, on a gurney, was jiwon, the little girl you had previously encountered. her condition had deteriorated drastically. the deep wounds on her small body had festered, turning into something far more ominous. her big, frightened eyes locked onto yours, and in that instant, the world seemed to slow. her face blurred and morphed, and for a horrifying moment, it wasn’t jiwon you saw but your sister—her eyes pleading, her body frail and helpless. the room seemed to close in on you, the sounds around you muffling as memories of your sister surged to the forefront of your mind.

you couldn’t move. you stood there, rooted to the spot, the enormity of your grief and shock rendering you immobile. your heart pounded in your ears, your vision tunneled. all you could see was the image of your sister, her final moments replaying in your mind like a cruel, endless loop. you had failed her, and now, there was jiwon, looking at you with the same desperate hope. hoseok, seeing your distress, moved quickly to your side. “hey, pull it together,” he said, his voice firm but laced with worry. you barely registered his words, your mind trapped in the past.

he shook you gently but urgently. “it’s what your sister would have wanted. she would want you to save this girl.” his words cut through the fog of your panic, grounding you. your sister. she had always admired your strength, your dedication. she wouldn’t want you to falter now. with a deep, shaky breath, you forced yourself to focus. you nodded, though the motion felt heavy and slow. together, you and hoseok ushered jiwon into the room, the weight of the moment pressing down on you but not breaking you.

inside the operating room, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with urgency. hoseok scrubbed in, his movements precise and practiced. you followed suit, your hands steadying as you slipped into the familiar routine. “scalpel,” he requested, his voice steady. you handed it to him, your fingers brushing against his in a brief moment of silent solidarity. the incision was made, and the surgery began.

blood oozed from the wound, and you worked swiftly to suction it away, giving hoseok a clear view. the injury was worse than you had feared. necrotic tissue had to be removed, the infection threatening to spread further if not contained. “hemostat,” he ordered, and you placed the instrument in his hand, your eyes never leaving the surgical site. the room was filled with the sounds of monitors beeping, the soft swish of the ventilator, and the occasional murmur of instructions.

his focus was unyielding as he navigated through the intricate web of tissue and blood vessels. “clamp here,” he directed, and you followed, the metal tool snapping shut with a decisive click. time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity as you worked in unison, battling to save jiwon’s life. the infection was stubborn, but hoseok’s skill was unparalleled. together, you cut away the dead tissue, flushing the wound with antibiotics, suturing each layer with meticulous care. every stitch, every cut, was a step towards hope, a fight against despair. finally, the last suture was placed, and the wound was closed. you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the surgery had been a success, but the emotional toll was heavy.

you pulled off your gloves and mask, your gaze drifting to jiwon’s still form on the operating table. the anesthesia kept her unconscious, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. you moved to her side, pulling up a stool and sitting next to her. her tiny hand lay limp on the bed, and you gently took it in yours, your heart aching. tears welled up in your eyes as you watched her, the image of your sister still haunting you. you squeezed her hand softly, a tear slipping down your cheek. “everything will be okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i promise you.”

more tears followed, a silent stream of grief and hope mingling. hoseok approached from behind, his presence a comforting warmth. he wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting gently on your shoulder. “she’ll pull through,” he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “you did great.” you leaned back into him, drawing strength from his embrace. the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future seemed a little more bearable with him by your side.

as you and hoseok stood vigil over her, a muffled commotion echoed through the walls, drawing your attention. exchanging a worried glance with him, you both hurried to the waiting room, the sound growing louder with each step. the scene that greeted you was chaotic. a man stood at the center of the room, his face contorted in rage. he was shouting, his voice a furious torrent of accusations and frustration. the other patients and staff looked on, too stunned or afraid to intervene.

you stepped forward, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “sir, i understand you’re upset, but we’re doing everything we can. we’re short on equipment, but we haven’t stopped working to help everyone.”

his eyes, wild with anger, locked onto yours. “everything you can?” he spat. “my wife is bleeding out and you’re telling me you’re doing everything you can?” he took a menacing step towards you, and before you could react, his hands shot out, wrapping around your throat. the world tilted as his grip tightened, cutting off your air. your hands flew to his, desperately trying to pry them off. your vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges. you could hear the frantic shouts of the staff and the gasps of the patients, but they seemed distant, muffled.

hoseok’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. “let go of her,” he was by your side in an instant, his hands tearing the man’s grip from your throat with a force you didn’t know he possessed. he pushed you behind him, shielding you with his body. he grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him close. his voice was low, dangerous. listen to me,” he growled. “we’re doing everything we can with what we have. everyone here is waiting for treatment, and so will you. if you ever lay a hand on her again, you’ll be waiting for a casket, not treatment. do you understand?”

the man’s eyes widened, fear replacing the anger as he nodded, hoseok’s grip still firm on his collar. he released the man, who stumbled back, cowed and silent.

you stood there, shaken, your hand pressed to your throat where the man’s fingers had dug in. hoseok turned to you, his expression softening with concern. he pulled you close, his fingers tracing the bruises forming on your neck. “are you alright?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, your voice hoarse. “i’m fine, really. but hoseok, you can’t risk your position like that. what if something happened to you?”

he cupped your face in his hands, his eyes intense. “nothing is more important than you. do you understand? not my position, not this hospital. nothing.” tears welled up in your eyes at the sincerity in his voice. you leaned into his touch, the world around you fading away as you found solace in his presence. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”

as the tension in the waiting room began to settle, the hospital’s chief appeared, his stern expression cutting through the residual chaos. he made his way directly to hoseok, his eyes narrowing. “dr. jung,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight of authority. “my office. now.” hoseok nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before following the chief down the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor. you watched him go, anxiety twisting in your stomach.

in the chief’s office, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken reprimands. hoseok took a seat, his back straight, his eyes fixed on the older man who stood behind the large wooden desk.

“what the hell was that out there?” the chief began, his voice hard and unyielding. “do you realize the scene you made? this is a hospital, not a boxing ring.” hoseok’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “that man was choking her. no one else did anything. i had to step in.”

the chief sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i know the toll the earthquake has taken on everyone, including you. we’re all under immense pressure, and tempers are frayed. but you need to understand that your position here is already on thin ice.” hoseok’s heart dropped, a cold wave of dread washing over him. the room seemed to shrink, the walls pressing in as the chief continued.

“you’re a good doctor, hoseok,” the chief said, his voice softer now. “but i can’t ignore the incident. that medical error—the one that led to the failed surgery and the death of that little girl—it’s not something we can afford to forget. you need to be more careful. one more mistake, and your career could be over.”

the words hit him like a physical blow. he felt a chill run through his veins, the memory of that night flashing before his eyes. the sterile operating room, the smell of antiseptic, the panicked beeping of the monitors. and then the silence. the deafening silence after the little girl’s heart had stopped. he forced himself to nod, his voice tight. “i understand. i’ll be careful.”

the chief’s eyes softened slightly, but the severity of his words remained. “i’m not saying this to punish you, hoseok. i’m saying it because you’re a talented doctor. don’t let your emotions jeopardize everything you’ve worked for.” he stood, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his shoulders. “thank you, sir. i’ll keep that in mind.”

as he left the office, the gravity of the chief’s warning pressed down on him. the memory of your little girl’s lifeless body haunted him, a constant reminder of his fallibility. the stakes had never felt higher.

returning to the waiting room, he found you standing there, worry etched into your features. you rushed to him, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of what had transpired.

“what happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he gave you a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “just a reminder to keep my cool,” he said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the chief’s warning. “we need to be careful. both of us.” you nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. the hospital was a place of healing but also a place where mistakes could cost lives and careers. together, you would navigate these treacherous waters, leaning on each other for strength.

the minutes turned into hours as the hospital faced an onslaught of patients, each with their own urgent needs. the air was thick with the sounds of pain and desperation, interspersed with the beeping of monitors and the hurried footsteps of medical staff. a young man was wheeled in, clutching his abdomen, his face contorted in agony. “it’s appendicitis,” hoseok diagnosed quickly. “we need to operate immediately.” you assisted in prepping him for surgery, your hands steady as you administered anesthesia, feeling the weight of the man's trust in your hands.

next came an elderly woman, her breathing labored and her skin pallid. hoseok listened to her chest, his brow furrowing in concentration. “pulmonary edema,” he said, his voice decisive. “we need to get her stabilized.” you moved swiftly, setting up an iv and administering medication, feeling the tension ease slightly as her breathing became more regular.

throughout the chaos, hoseok’s praise for your work was a steady undercurrent. “you’re doing great,” he’d say, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring smile. “i couldn’t do this without you.” each word of encouragement sent a flutter through your heart, grounding you amid the storm of activity.

a little boy was brought in next, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. “fracture,” hoseok noted, his expression softening as he knelt beside the boy. “we’ll fix you up, champ.” you held the boy’s hand, distracting him with stories as hoseok expertly set the bone and applied a cast. the boy’s tears turned to a tentative smile, and you felt a surge of warmth at the sight.

an older man with a deep gash on his thigh was next. “this is going to need stitches,” hoseok said, his tone gentle as he cleaned the wound. you handed him the sutures, your fingers brushing briefly, a jolt of electricity passing between you. as he stitched the wound with precision, he glanced up at you. “we make a good team, don’t we?” you smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “we do,” you agreed, your voice soft.

as the day wore on, the stream of patients seemed endless. you and hoseok moved in sync, your actions a well-rehearsed dance of medical efficiency and compassionate care. every now and then, his hand would find yours, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes. by the time the sun began to set, the exhaustion was palpable. your muscles ached, and your mind buzzed with the day’s events. hoseok finished treating the last patient, a woman with a sprained ankle, and turned to you with a weary but proud smile. “you were amazing today,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“thank you,” you replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite your fatigue. “you too.” as you walked out of the hospital, the cool evening air was a welcome relief. the makeshift shower stations set up outside beckoned, promising a brief respite from the day’s grime and stress. uou grabbed a towel and stepped under the water, letting the cool droplets wash away the dirt and blood, a small sigh escaping your lips.

the evening had settled into a quiet lull, the chaos of the day finally giving way to a rare moment of peace. you stood beneath the shower, the water cascading over your tired body, washing away the grime and stress that had accumulated throughout the day. each droplet felt like a small blessing, providing a fleeting sense of relief. as you stood there, eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water, you heard the soft swish of the shower curtain. you didn’t tense up; you knew who it was even before his arms wrapped around your bare waist, pulling you back against his solid chest. hoseok's touch was gentle yet firm, his breath warm against your neck as he held you close.

“you did a good job today,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. “thank you,” you replied, your voice soft, filled with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

his lips brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. you turned around to face him, your eyes meeting his. despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he looked as gorgeous as ever. the soft spray of water from the shower highlighted the contours of his face, making him seem almost ethereal in the dim light. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the water that clung to your skin. his touch was tender, filled with an unspoken promise of comfort and affection. slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. it was a kiss filled with unspoken words, a desperate need for connection and relief from the day’s turmoil.

you kissed back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if he were your lifeline. the kiss grew more heated, a sense of urgency taking over as the weight of the day’s events melted away in the intensity of the moment. his hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. the water continued to cascade around you, mingling with the heat of your embrace. each kiss, each touch, seemed to erase a little more of the day’s exhaustion, replacing it with a fervent need for each other. hoseok’s lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake.

you arched into him, your breath hitching as his hands explored, finding the places that made you shiver with need. “hoseok,” you breathed, your voice a mix of longing and relief. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they met yours. “i need you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “right now, more than ever.”

without another word, he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, the coldness of the hospital towel forgotten as you clung to him. his mouth returned to yours, the kisses deepening, growing more desperate with each passing second. the water pounded against your skin, the rhythm matching the beat of your racing heart. his hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers digging in as he held you tightly. you could feel his arousal pressing against you, and the realization sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

his mouth left your lips, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, “you’re so beautiful, so so beautiful.” his words were a potent aphrodisiac, sending a warm flush through your body. you moaned in response, your hands tangling in his hair. his kisses grew more insistent, his tongue tracing the line of your jaw before dipping down to your collarbone. you gasped as he sucked on the sensitive skin, his teeth lightly grazing the surface. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that had you squirming against him.

his hands found your tits, kneading them gently as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. you moaned again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the tiles of the shower. your hips rocked against him, seeking more contact, more friction. the need to be closer was overwhelming, the ache between your legs demanding attention. hoseok’s movements grew more urgent, his kisses more demanding. you could feel the tension coiling in his body, a mirror to the desire coursing through your own. you knew that this wasn’t just about sex; it was about connecting, about reaffirming the bond that had grown stronger with each passing day in the chaotic world.

his hands slid down, reaching between your legs, and you shuddered as his fingers found you, already wet and ready. “so good, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. you bit your lip, trying to hold back the whimpers that threatened to spill forth as he touched you, stoked the fire within you. your body begged for more, and hoseok, ever attentive, was more than happy to oblige.

his thumb circled your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body, while his other hand supported you, holding you firmly against the wall of the shower. the cool tiles provided a stark contrast to the heat that was building within you. hoseok’s eyes never left yours, his gaze locked on you as if he could see straight into your soul. the intimacy of the moment was almost too much to handle, your love for him growing with each touch, each caress.

his fingers slipped inside you, and you threw your head back, the water now a backdrop to the symphony of sensations that were playing out between you. your hips bucked against his hand, seeking the release that was just out of reach. his strokes grew quicker, more insistent, as he whispered filthy, loving words into your ear. the shower was now a cocoon of passion, the sounds of the water mixing with your moans and gasps.

his other hand moved to the base of your spine, pressing you even closer to him, and you could feel the tip of his erection nudging against you. you were both trembling with need, the world outside the shower fading away until there was only the two of you, lost in a haze of desire. hoseok’s eyes searched yours, looking for permission, and you gave it willingly, nodding your head. without hesitation, he entered you, filling you up with one smooth, powerful thrust.

you cried out, your body stretching to accommodate him, the sensation almost too intense. he stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before he began to move, his hips rolling into yours with a slow, steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. the water continued to cascade around you, a gentle reminder of the world outside, but in this moment, there was only the two of you, the heat of your bodies melding together, the sound of your breaths mingling with the patter of the rain.

his movements grew more urgent, his strokes deepening as he claimed you, his gentle doctor’s hands now possessive and firm. you matched his pace, your legs tightening around him, your nails digging into his back. the water rained down on you both, turning the steamy air into a sensual embrace that only heightened the passion of the moment. hoseok’s lips found yours again, his tongue delving deep as if trying to devour you whole. your kisses grew sloppy and desperate, your breaths mingling in a symphony of need.

his hand left your thigh, sliding up to grip your neck, holding you in place as he ravished your mouth. you felt the tip of his tongue trace the seam of your lips before pushing inside, and you responded eagerly, your own tongue dancing with his. the taste of mint toothpaste and the faint metallic hint of hospital air was intoxicating, a stark reminder of the reality that surrounded your clandestine escape into the steamy oasis.

you reached down to wrap your hand around his length, stroking him in time with his thrusts, feeling him pulse and throb in your grip. his eyes closed briefly, a look of pure ecstasy crossing his face, before snapping open to meet yours again. the intensity of his gaze was almost too much, but you held it, never breaking contact, as you pushed him closer to the edge. hoseok’s breathing grew ragged, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached climax.

his hand moved to cover yours, guiding your strokes, showing you just how he liked it. your other hand slid down to cup his back, pulling him into you with each thrust. the friction was exquisite, each movement bringing you closer to the precipice of pleasure. the sound of the shower was now a cacophony of splashing water, wet skin slapping against wet skin, and the grunts and moans of two lovers lost in the throes of passion.

hoseok’s eyes went wide, and he let out a guttural groan, his body stiffening as he came inside you. the warmth of his release sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. your legs tightened around him, your body shuddering with the force of it. he held you through it all, his arms strong and steady, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you both rode the waves of pleasure.

as your climax subsided, he slowly pulled out, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the love and adoration shining in them, a stark contrast to the raw lust that had been there moments before. hoseok kissed you gently, his touch tender as he set you down on unsteady legs. the water continued to fall around you, washing away the last remnants of the day’s tension as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, hearts racing and bodies spent. the steam cleared, and reality began to seep back in, but for now, you didn’t care about the world outside. all that mattered was the warmth of hoseok’s embrace, the feel of his skin against yours, and the quiet reassurance that, amidst the chaos, you had found something beautiful and true. you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body, the soft fabric a gentle caress against your sensitive skin. hoseok followed, pulling you close once more, and you knew that, no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

the morning sun filtered through the cracks in the hospital blinds, casting a soft glow over the bustling emergency room. you stood at a patient’s bedside, your hands steady as you carefully adjusted an iv drip. the patient, an elderly woman with kind eyes, smiled weakly at you.

“thank you, dear,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. you returned her smile, your heart warmed by her gratitude. “just doing my job,” you replied gently, checking her vitals one last time before moving on to the next patient. the night had been long, and you felt the weight of exhaustion in your bones, but the memory of hoseok’s arms around you, his whispered reassurances, kept you going.

as you made your way down the corridor, you caught snippets of conversation from two nurses passing by. their voices were hushed, but not enough to prevent you from hearing their words.

“did you hear about (y/n) and doctor jung? i heard she seduced him for a better position and pay,” one of them whispered, a note of disdain in her voice. “typical,” the other replied, her tone equally scornful. “some people will do anything to get ahead.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your heart churned, and for a moment, you felt a wave of nausea. you clenched your fists, fighting to keep your composure as the nurses’ voices faded away. at the same time, you heard a familiar voice by the door. “ignore them.”

you turned to see hoseok standing there, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. his presence was a balm to your wounded spirit. he crossed the room, his hand finding yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. you took a deep breath, nodding. “thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible. he smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “we’ve got more important things to focus on.”

with renewed determination, you continued your rounds, treating patients with the same care and dedication that had always driven you. you sutured wounds, administered medication, and offered comforting words to those in pain. each task was a reminder of why you had chosen this path, and why you wouldn’t let the cruel words of others deter you. one patient, a young boy with a broken arm, clung to his mother as you gently examined the injury. “it’s gonna be okay,” you told him, your voice soothing. “we’ll get you all fixed up.” the boy looked at you with wide, trusting eyes. “promise?”

“i promise,” you said, your heart aching at his vulnerability. you worked quickly and efficiently, setting the bone and applying a cast while his mother watched with tears in her eyes. “thank you, doctor,” she said, her voice trembling with relief. “it’s my pleasure,” you replied, giving her a reassuring smile. as you finished up, you felt a hand on your shoulder. you turned to see hoseok standing beside you, his eyes filled with admiration.

“can we talk?” he asked softly. you nodded, following him to a quiet corner of the room. he turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. “do you regret what happened last night?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “no, i don’t. not for a second.”

his face softened with relief, a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “i’m glad,” he murmured. “because i don’t regret it either.” in that moment, surrounded by the relentless noise of the hospital, the weight of your responsibilities, and the harsh whispers of gossip, you felt a sense of clarity. you and hoseok were in it together, facing the challenges side by side. and no matter what the day would bring, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could endure anything.

the hours flew by in a whirlwind of activity. the emergency room was flooded with patients, and you and hoseok barely had a moment to breathe. each case demanded your full attention, and you threw yourself into your work, determined to make a difference. one of your patients was a middle-aged man with severe lacerations from a car accident. his face was pale, and he winced with every movement. “stay still for me,” you instructed gently as you cleaned the wound. his wife hovered nearby, wringing her hands in worry.

“will he be okay?” she asked, her voice trembling. “we’re doing everything we can,” you reassured her, glancing at hoseok, who was prepping the sutures. “he’s in good hands.” the man’s grip tightened on his wife’s hand as you worked together with hoseok to close the deep gashes. every stitch you made felt like a small victory, a reminder of the importance of your work.

“thank you, doctor,” the man said weakly as you finished, his voice filled with gratitude. “rest now,” hoseok added, his tone calm and authoritative. “you’re going to be fine.”

you moved on to the next patient, a young woman with a high fever and respiratory distress. you monitored her vitals, administered medication, and did everything you could to stabilize her. the relentless pace continued, and with each patient you treated, you felt the weight of responsibility grow heavier. finally, as the sun began to set, the flow of new patients slowed down. the exhaustion hit you like a wave, and you found yourself leaning against a wall, closing your eyes for a moment’s respite. hoseok appeared at your side, his expression mirroring your fatigue.

“let’s take a break,” he suggested softly. “we’ve done enough for now.” you nodded, too tired to argue. together, you walked outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the emergency room. a small bonfire crackled nearby, providing warmth and light in the growing darkness. you both sat down, the flames casting flickering shadows on your faces.

he handed you a can of cheap soda, and you accepted it gratefully. you popped the tab and took a sip, the sweetness refreshing after the long day. he watched the fire for a moment before turning his gaze to you, the firelight illuminating his features. “what made you so determined?” you asked, breaking the silence. “i know why i’m here, but i’ve never asked about you.” hoseok sighed, his eyes distant as he stared into the flames. “at first, it was about the money. i wanted a stable career, something that paid well. but everything changed when the earthquake hit.”

you listened intently as he continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. “there was a little girl who was rushed in during the chaos. she was so small, so fragile. i did everything i could to save her, but i made a mistake. a medical error. and she didn’t make it.” your heart ached at his words, a deep empathy stirring within you. “i understand,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “i know that feeling all too well.”

hoseok looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “i know you understand,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “because that little girl was your sister.” the world seemed to tilt on its axis. you stared at him, your mind struggling to process his words. “what? are you joking?”

“i wish i were,” he replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “when i saw the photo of her slip out of your pocket, i knew. i recognized her immediately.”

a torrent of emotions surged through you—shock, betrayal, anger. you pulled away from him, standing up abruptly. “you knew all this time and didn’t tell me?” hoseok stood up as well, his expression desperate. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know how to tell you. I thought—”

“you thought what?” you snapped, your voice rising. “that i wouldn’t find out? that it wouldn’t matter?”

he took a step towards you, his hands outstretched in a pleading gesture. “i did everything i could to save her. i swear. i’ve lived with that guilt every day.” you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “i can’t believe this. i trusted you, hoseok.”

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t want to hurt you.” but you couldn’t hear his apologies over the roar of your own anguish. you turned and walked back into the hospital, each step heavy with the weight of betrayal. the familiar corridors felt alien now, and the faces of your colleagues blurred in your vision.

inside, you found a quiet corner and sank to the floor, your heart shattering with each passing second. the realization that hoseok, the man you had come to trust and care for, was connected to the most painful moment of your life was too much to bear. you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold together the pieces of your broken heart. the hospital, once a place of solace and purpose, now felt like a labyrinth of pain and deceit. and as you sat there, alone and overwhelmed, you wondered if you would ever find a way to heal.

the night had already been filled with too much pain, but the worst was yet to come. the dull hum of the hospital was suddenly pierced by the shrill cry of an alarm. the emergency broadcast system crackled to life, filling the room with a foreboding announcement: “attention. a new earthquake is imminent. please proceed to the designated safety areas immediately.”

the sound of the alert was quickly followed by the frantic ringing of alarms. panic spread through the corridors like wildfire. the television screens mounted on the walls flickered with images of shaking buildings and terrified faces. staff members sprinted through the halls, urging patients and visitors to head for the basement. you were still reeling from the revelation of hoseok’s connection to your sister’s death, but the urgency of the situation snapped you into action. the chaos around you was overwhelming, but you focused on the immediate task at hand. the job you had taken on had always been about helping people, and in that moment, you had to live up to the commitment.

you grabbed a nearby nurse, her face ashen with fear. “we need to get everyone to the basement!” you shouted over the cacophony. “we’ll start with the patients in critical condition. follow me!” the nurse nodded, her expression resolute despite her trembling hands. together, you moved swiftly from room to room, helping patients to their feet and guiding them towards the emergency exits. the corridors were a maze of frantic movement and terrified faces.

“please, stay calm!” you yelled as you assisted an elderly woman in a wheelchair. “we’re getting you to safety.” as the ground began to rumble beneath you, a low, ominous growl filled the air. the hospital’s structure groaned as if protesting the force of the impending quake. your heart pounded in your chest as you ushered more patients into the basement, each tremor sending vibrations through the floor and walls.

with each passing moment, the intensity of the shaking increased. the walls swayed, and the ceiling tiles rattled loose, falling to the floor with a deafening crash. the alarms blared incessantly, adding to the din of panicked voices. in the basement, the scene was no less chaotic. people huddled together, their faces pale and eyes wide with terror. you made sure everyone was settled as best as they could be, then pushed your way through the throng of people, desperately searching for hoseok. his absence was an increasing source of dread.

“has anybody seen doctor jung?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain calm. no one answered, and your anxiety only grew.

the tremors beneath your feet grew stronger, and the ground shook violently. the basement walls trembled, and the ceiling seemed to ripple as if in a nightmarish dance. the sobs and cries of frightened families echoed through the confined space. “no, no!” you heard someone scream. “not again!”

the tremors were relentless, a relentless assault on your senses. you clung to a nearby support beam, your knuckles white with the strain. the shaking went on for what felt like hours, an endless barrage of terror and uncertainty. when the shaking finally ceased, a heavy silence settled over the basement. the air was thick with the scent of dust and fear. you looked around, your heart racing, searching for hoseok amid the sea of frightened faces.

“hoseok!” you shouted, but the name was swallowed by the silence. your eyes scanned the room frantically, but there was no sign of him. you approached one of the staff members, her face pale with exhaustion. “have you seen doctor jung? he was supposed to be here, helping—”

“i haven’t seen him since the earthquake started,” she said, her voice trembling. “he must still be upstairs.” a cold dread washed over you as the realization set in. if he was still up there, he was in grave danger. you moved towards the stairwell, but before you could take more than a few steps, a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back.

“it’s too dangerous!” a voice shouted. it was one of the security personnel. “we need to stay down here until we’re sure the building is stable!” you struggled against their hold, desperation making your voice raw. “i have to find him, he could be hurt.”

“we’ll send a search team once it’s safe,” the security guard said firmly. “you need to stay put.” you watched helplessly as the staff continued to reassure and comfort the frightened patients. your heart ached with each passing minute, knowing that hoseok was up there, alone and in danger. you couldn’t shake the image of him, his face filled with anguish and regret.

as the hours dragged on, the basement’s tension slowly dissipated. the quake had left the hospital in a state of disarray, but the immediate danger had passed. emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh, eerie glow over the faces of those huddled together. you sat down on a bench, your body trembling from exhaustion and stress. the fear and sorrow were overwhelming, and the knowledge that he was still missing gnawed at you with relentless intensity. the events of the past days seemed to blur into one long, unending nightmare.

with each passing moment, you clung to the hope that hoseok would return, that somehow he would come back to you, alive and safe. but as the minutes ticked by and the search continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him for good. the basement was a sea of tears and whispered fears, and you were adrift in the middle of it all, waiting for news that felt like it might never come.

the basement, once a haven of safety, now felt like an eerie waiting room, filled with the weight of anxiety and the suffocating hush of fear. the tension was palpable as everyone waited for news, the soft sobs of frightened families creating a haunting backdrop to the dimly lit space. you sat on the edge of a bench, your hands trembling, eyes darting towards the stairwell as if willing hoseok to appear.

the sound of hurried footsteps and the clamor of metal brought a sudden rush of urgency. a safety team burst into the basement, carrying a stretcher between them. the sight of their grim expressions only heightened your anxiety. as they made their way through the crowd, a small figure trailed behind them, her face streaked with tears. you recognized her immediately—jiwon, the little girl you had been so concerned about. your heart leaped at the sight of her. “jiwon!” you cried out, rushing towards her.

she ran into your arms, her sobs shaking her small frame. “i’m so glad to see you,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “i was so worried.” her tear-streaked face looked up at you, her eyes filled with both gratitude and sorrow. “i wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t rescued me,” she said between hiccupping breaths.

you frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “who are you talking about?”

she pointed to the stretcher being wheeled in. your heart dropped as you took in the sight of the man lying on it. it was hoseok. his once-immaculate white coat was now a tattered mess, stained with blood and grime. his face was marred by scratches, and his skin was torn and bruised from splinters. a gash in his leg bled profusely, and his breathing was shallow and labored.

panic surged through you as you pushed past the safety team and knelt beside him. “hoseok!” you cried, gently placing your fingers against his neck. the pulse beneath your fingertips was weak but present. relief mingled with the gnawing regret that had taken root in your heart. “hoseok!” you pleaded, your voice breaking as you examined his wounds. “please, stay with me.”

jiwon, her face still wet with tears, watched you with a look of deep concern. “he saved me,” she repeated, her voice quivering. “he kept me safe.”

you took a deep breath, fighting the wave of despair threatening to overwhelm you. “i need medical supplies!” you shouted to the team, your voice urgent. “now!” as the team scrambled to fetch the equipment, you turned your attention back to him. memories of his teachings flashed through your mind—everything he had shared about treating injuries, his instructions on how to handle severe trauma. with trembling hands, you began to clean the gash on his leg, your movements both desperate and precise.

the blood flowed freely, and you struggled to staunch the flow. you focused on each step, trying to push aside the guilt gnawing at you. “i’m sorry,” you whispered as you worked. “i’m so sorry.” the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. your hands worked methodically, applying pressure, cleaning the wound, and bandaging it with the skill you had learned from him. every time you looked at his face, every time you saw the pain and the sacrifice etched into his features, the regret and sorrow became nearly unbearable.

finally, after what felt like hours, you finished with his leg. you moved to his other injuries, performing basic first aid to stabilize him as best you could. each movement was a battle against the rising tide of emotion and the weight of your fears. with hoseok now stabilized, you stepped back, your heart aching as you looked at his battered form. you took his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his still face. “please,” you begged, your voice cracking with emotion. “please wake up. you have to stay alive. i need you. i forgive you—whatever happened, it doesn’t matter. i can’t lose you too.”

the silence of the basement was deafening as you continued to hold his hand, the enormity of what had happened crashing down on you. the walls seemed to close in, and the oppressive weight of the situation bore heavily on your shoulders. as you sat beside him, your pleas became more desperate. “hoseok, you have to come back to me. i know i’ve been angry, and i know there’s so much we haven’t said. but you’re the only one who understands, the only one who has been there for me. please, don’t leave me.”

jiwon, watching from a few steps away, seemed to sense your pain and stepped closer. “he saved me,” she said softly, her voice full of quiet conviction. “he’s a hero. he’ll be okay.” your heart swelled with gratitude for the little girl’s words, but it did little to ease the crushing weight of guilt and grief. he had put his life on the line just to save the girl that reminded you so much of your sister. the faint sound of the alarms in the background was a stark reminder of the chaos outside, but there, in the small, dimly lit corner of the basement, it was just you and him.

the basement was still, save for the occasional shuffling of feet and the distant murmurs of anxious voices. the weight of the entire ordeal hung heavy in the air as you sat by hoseok’s side, your hands stained with blood and your body numb from exhaustion. the darkness of the night seemed endless, a constant reminder of the fragile line between hope and despair.

you hadn't closed your eyes for what felt like an eternity, your gaze fixed on his still form. every labored breath he took was a reminder of the dire situation, and you clung to the hope that he would pull through. the flickering light from the emergency lamps cast long, wavering shadows across his face, highlighting the bruises and cuts that marred his once-charming features.

finally, after what seemed like an infinite stretch of time, you saw a slight movement. his eyes fluttered open, and your heart leaped into your throat. “hoseok!” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief.

his eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, met yours. his breathing was still labored, each inhale coming in shallow, ragged gasps. but there was a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of the warm, familiar presence you had feared you might never see again. tears streamed down your face as you reached for him, your fingers brushing against his cheek with a gentleness born of desperation and love.

he gave a weak smile, his lips curving up despite the pain etched into every line of his face. “well,” he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper, “i always thought you’d be the one in this position, not me.” a shaky laugh escaped you as you held him closer, your tears mingling with the blood on his clothes. “i’m so glad you’re awake,” you whispered through your sobs. “i was so scared I’d lost you. i'm so sorry.”

his fingers, though trembling, reached up to brush your hair away from your face. the touch was tender, and it made your heart ache with the depth of your relief. “i’m the one who should be sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but earnest. “i never wanted to put you through this.”

you shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. “no,” you said firmly, your voice breaking with emotion. “you did your best. you saved jiwon. you saved her, and you saved me.”

as you held him, his lips brushed gently against your hair, a tender gesture that conveyed more than words ever could. you could feel his heartbeat, faint but steady, and it was a rhythm that filled you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. his gaze wandered to where jiwon stood a few feet away. her face was slick with tears, but she was smiling, her small frame trembling with the weight of the relief and gratitude she felt. the sight of her, so reminiscent of your own lost sister, brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

her presence was a poignant reminder of everything you had lost and everything you had fought so hard to protect. she was a symbol of innocence and hope, a small, fragile life that had been preserved through the sacrifices made by hoseok and yourself. the resemblance to your sister was uncanny, and it was as though the universe had given you a bittersweet gift—a reflection of the child you had mourned, now standing before you as a living testament to the strength and resilience of the human spirit.

you looked at her, then back at hoseok, who was watching her with a faint smile on his lips. his eyes were filled with a mix of pain and satisfaction, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed through their shared ordeal. “she reminds me so much of her,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him.

he nodded, his gaze still fixed on jiwon. “i know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “she’s a brave little girl.”

the basement, once filled with dread and uncertainty, now seemed to resonate with a quiet, profound sense of relief. despite the chaos and the trauma that had unfolded, the small victories and the lives saved were a testament to the strength and courage that had carried you through.

you continued to hold hoseok close, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. the night had been long and harrowing, but as you sat there, enveloped in the warmth of his presence and the sight of jiwon’s tearful smile, you felt a flicker of hope and redemption.

✧.*

a/n: this was so fun to write omg

[jvngkook97]

hello, how are you? ☺

I would like to know if there's going to be a 2no part of one night only, and if that's the case, can i be in the taglist? Thank you🥰💜

Daydream

synopsis; in which you and Hoseok take a trip together — the mushroom kind.

pairing; jung hoseok x female!reader

genre; fluff, humor, smut, one night only au, music festival au, drabble

warnings; cursing, drug use (be responsible pls), existential mind trip, sex (also be responsible) though it’s moreso implied and not explicit, and cute moments in between that include hobi and self luuuurv <3

rating; 21+ MINORS DNI

w/c; 2,278

a/n; while this is not a direct sequel, it’s more of a ‘filler chapter’ that takes place the morning after of ONO where she’s still at the music festival but before she leaves and finds out she’s pregnant (spoiler alert oops). so, really it’s just another scene of how she possibly came to be pregnant. anyways, enjoy @jeonmarti!!

Read ONO Here -> 01

The Morning After

J-Hope: wakey wakey, sleeping beauty

If I’m sleeping beauty, why didn’t you kiss me awake?

J-Hope: because that’s creepy af

I wouldn’t have minded 😉

J-Hope: well, now that I have your consent…..maybe I’ll get lucky when your sexy ass COMES OUTSIDE cause we have food

Be right there!!!

You make your way out of the bus, stretching and yawning. It’s the final day of the festival and you can feel it hitting you.

“Morning.”

Hoseok pauses in his conversation with a girl you don’t recognize, but you don’t let it phase you, what with your brain still waking up. He waves the girl goodbye and she walks off, he turns to you as you walk up in front of him.

“Hey, y/n. You still half asleep?”

“Mhmm.” You just nod your head at him, one hand of yours coming up to attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes more.

He pulls you into a hug and you can feel his chest vibrating from a low chuckle.

“Poor thing. You gonna make it through the day?”

Fully sinking into his warmth, you close your eyes and savor it. The cool morning of the desert hits your skin and causes you to shiver, it only causes his arms to tighten around you more.

“Shhhh. Y/N isn’t awake yet. Please leave a message after the tone.”

You do not make a tone. He waits. You’re silent.

He finally speaks up.

“So, where’s–,”

And so do you.

“BEEEEEEP!”

He snorts into your hair and rubs your back. He then kisses the top of your head and releases you. You hiss at the sudden loss of warmth you were relishing in, but with one more loud yawn it helps you shake off the last bit of exhaustion in your body.

You look around at the people who are with you, scattered around the campsite, and you actually recognize some of them. It’s the rest of Pomegranate Tits as well as several others you don’t recognize, but who are clearly friends with the band.

“Oh, hey! I saw your performance yesterday! Nice job!” They all take a moment to look at you and smile in thanks. The lead singer is the one to reply for the band.

“Thank you! You’re J-Hope’s festival fling, right? You enjoy the show?”

Deep inside, you cringe at being called his ‘festival fling’, but you know it’s the truth. Might as well own it.

“Yeah, it was great!”

Hoseok comes up from behind you, and once he gets close enough he lightly hip bumps you to get your attention. When you turn to look at him, he’s holding out a granola bar in one hand and an orange in his other. He’s smiling widely.

“Your breakfast, babe.”

You take both from him, smiling yourself.

“Thanks!”

He nods his head over towards the bus and you take the hint. Waving goodbye to the group, you follow Hoseok back towards the bus, nibbling on your granola bar.

In the very back, accessible from the outside only, appears to be a little mini greenhouse of sorts. You recognize the plants and fungi that Hoseok mentioned he worked with for….medicinal purposes. However, the dried mushrooms he pulls out of a cooler now are definitely not going to be used for that.

“OoOo what are we doing with those?”

He smirks at you and holds up the bag.

“Some of the guys wanted to skip the festival today and head out to the desert to do some of these. If you want, we could join them?”

His eyes are full of hope, but you know that if you say no, he wouldn’t judge you. Lucky for him, you’re the adventurous kind of gal.

“Let’s get trippy in the desert!”

A smile threatens to split his face with how wide it is at your answer. He offers you his hand, which you take, now having a free one since finishing off your granola bar, and he leads you into the back of a jeep that one of his friends owns. Soon enough, you’re all heading off into the desert, you munching on your orange in the meantime as you watch the scenery pass by you out of the car window.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

After about an hour of driving, you hop out into a picturesque desert scene.

Hoseok walks over to you with two cups of what looks like tea, and a picnic blanket is secured underneath one arm.

“Tommy and JJ are trip sitting. I figured you and I could head off on our own.”

“Sounds good. Cheers!”

You clink your paper cup with his and down the contents. The bitter taste of the ground fungus is masked by a generous helping of lemon. Still, you scowl as you swallow.

Hoseok downs it easily, and quickly, leaving more than enough time for him to poke a bit of fun at the current expression on your face.

“Hey, that’s a cute face!”

You blow a raspberry at him as soon as the contents are done slithering down your throat.

“I see you’ve done this before.”

“Me? Nooo. Never!”

You roll your eyes and then take his hand.

“Let’s find a good spot for us.”

You and Hoseok find a nice little patch of desert sand and a beautiful, blooming cactus.

“Hey.” His voice floats through your ears.

“Huh?” You snap out of your trance of staring at the cactus to look at him. He points to the cactus.

“Don’t touch that cactus when the trip sets in, no matter how enticing it may present itself to be.” When he talks, he has a serious demeanor, but his voice is laced with a lilt of humor in it. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t think it was a little bit funny if you did end up touching it.

“What? That cactus?” You point at it yourself with a lazy finger, then put the same finger against your lips in fake thought. “Hmm.” You tap the same finger against your lips once, twice. “I won’t.”

Your answer seems full of sincerity, he thinks, until you wink at him.

You little shit. His face deadpans.

“Y/N. Please.”

He sets up the picnic blanket and you help him smooth it down before both of you settle yourselves on top of it, now sitting on the flat layer of earth. After several minutes, you begin to think that nothing will happen, but then – something does.

The wind moves past you, rubbing against you like a cat. It’s warm and gentle and makes you giggle. Your attention then gets brought back to the cactus.

The cactus is beautiful. Such a vibrant green. It’s needles appear to be swaying in the breeze, dancing. That’s not right. Is it…fuzzy? Is it….looking at you? You steel your resolve as best you can in your current state, shaking your head.

No. You can’t. You said you wouldn’t touch it, you told him you wouldn’t.

Sitting back down next to Hoseok, you watch the swirling colors of the world as they seem to embrace you. It’s as if Mother Nature herself is wrapping you in a loving hug.

No. Maybe it’s you with your arms wrapped around yourself. You love yourself, as you should, because you are you, you are human, and you are flawed. But you are not broken.

You are perfect.

This world, this universe loves you and among the billions of stars and the billions of planets and the billions of people on this one, you are the only you. You are inimitable. You are an original. You are wonderfully and beautifully unique.

In this moment of self love and realization, you look over at Hoseok. His eyes gaze into yours and seem to be peering right through you. His hair flutters around him in a halo.

He’s beautiful.

You can’t help but smile. Hoseok is a kind soul at the end of the day, and he is so warm and gentle. You wonder if Hoseok knows he’s loved, too. You would like him to. Everyone deserves to know.

You lean into him and he leans into you. You close a distance that felt too large to begin with and feel such a deep satisfaction as your lips meet.

Warmth spreads through you and around you. It feels like you are being wrapped in a blanket. Then you realize that he’s embracing you. It’s his warmth that you feel.

Your lips meet once again, but it feels different this time. It’s so pleasant, but hot. Like taking a steaming shower that leaves your skin red. You think you might get burned, but the ecstasy that it brings you will not go away.

As you touch him, you feel a pulling against you. It’s pulling you closer in and up and down…it’s like a tide and you let it take you where it wants. You feel like as long as you are here with Hoseok, you won’t get lost.

When you cling to him tighter, nails digging into cloth and skin alike, you realize that at some point your clothes have melted off. As you gaze at him you wonder what it would be like to just be a little closer. So, you pull yourself closer and touch his bare skin in its entirety. As you do, it feels like you are melting into him and thus becoming one.

He must understand exactly what you want as he positions himself on top of you, entering you gently. Connected, you lose yourself. You feel pleasure everywhere, both inside and out. You no longer know where you end and where Hoseok begins. It is as if you are one being experiencing the most intense joy.

You love yourself, and you love him.

You close your eyes for a moment, or what feels like a moment. But when you open your eyes again, it’s night. The stars are every bit as vivid and bright as the breeze caresses your skin. The moon shines down on you both with a pale glow. You feel groggy and find Hoseok holding you in his arms, just rubbing your back soothingly in lazy circles.

“How are you feeling?” His voice is laced with a hint of sleep, but for the most part it seems like he’s been awake for quite awhile.

You clear your throat before you speak, it feels dry.

“A little thirsty, but–”

Your eyes take in every inch of his face as you softly say your next words, it coming out almost breathlessly.

“–really happy. I don’t know why, I just feel…elated.”

A hint of a smile dances across his lips.

“I know exactly what you mean. I’m glad I got to share this experience with you.”

He helps you to your feet and the two of you head back to the car to depart for the night, fixing your clothes and gathering your supplies in the process. When you arrive to the car, your trip sitter hands you both a bottle of water that you both chug down, gratefully. Then, you all pile back in and head back to the camp.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

In front of his bus, the bright headlight beams illuminate your figures in the background. The hum of the bus’s engine serves as the only noise to fill the silence between you. You hold your car keys in hand.

“So, are you heading out of town?” You ask, though you already know the answer. Still, a sliver of you hopes he’s willing to stay with you longer. But that quickly gets crushed into sand, just like the sand that tickles your ankles as it gets carried by the night desert wind.

“Yeah.” He trails off, scratching the back of his neck. He tries his best to keep his eyes on yours, but underneath your intense gaze, they quickly get directed to everywhere but you. “I’m chasing music festivals. Gotta get across the country for the next one pretty much. But–,”

This time, he finds the courage to keep your gaze, his hand falling to his side as he nervously fidgets with one of his belt loops. A soft smile appears.

“–I’m glad to have met you at this one, y/n.”

You smile back, with warmth, reply sincere.

“Same here.”

Stepping closer, you lean up to press one final kiss to his already puckered lips. Both of your eyes close to savor this last moment. When you open your eyes again, preparing to step back, his hands find the small of your back to pull you in again for another round.

This kiss is full of passion, it’s full of warmth, but at the same time somehow more gentle than the last had been.

A bittersweet goodbye kiss.

Without another word, you successfully pull away from him and try to lighten the sullen mood with a playful wink. And with that, you turn and wave at him as you begin your trek to the parking lot, his own hand comes up in a silent wave, but stays still.

Making it back to your car, you start the engine and buckle up. Turning on the radio and rolling the windows down as you pull out of the parking lot and onto a dark, desert highway, the cool wind in your hair, you let out a sigh of content.

Carrying only the memories of an amazing weekend, you flip the rear view mirror up, refusing to look back.

If only you knew then, what you know now.

Maybe,

just maybe,

you would’ve turned right back around and gotten him to stay.

[stxrvel]

the one where i said fuck you and you cried (3)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!

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You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.

“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”

“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”

Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.

“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”

Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.

That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.

“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”

“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.

“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.

It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.

“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.

“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”

Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.

“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”

You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”

Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.

“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”

“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”

“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”

When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.

“Then you try again.”

“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.

But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.

“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”

Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.

“Thank you, noona.”

“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.

“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”

-

“How could we?”

Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.

“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”

You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.

There was no use thinking about such things after so long.

Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”

“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”

“Do you disagree with me?”

“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”

“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”

“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.

“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”

Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.

“God, you're so dramatic.”

“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.

“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”

Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.

“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”

The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.

Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.

In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.

“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”

“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Mmm, you just figured that out?”

Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.

“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”

“Not even for everything we've been through together?”

“She's still our boss, Yuna.”

Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.

“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”

You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.

“That doesn't sound like much to you?”

“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”

You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.

“I really don't think you should do that.”

“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”

“You don't even know if they'll come.”

“I have a hunch.”

With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.

“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.

“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”

“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”

“And why's that?”

You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.

“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”

“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”

Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.

“SHE SAID YES!!!!”

-

Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.

As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.

“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”

“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes!” your mom yelled back.

The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.

Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.

Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.

But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.

"We need a loan."

Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"

"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."

"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.

"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"

"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.

"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."

His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.

"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder.

"I say we should listen to the lawyer."

"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"

Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"

"Dad…" Seojun elongated.

"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."

Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.

-

A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!

You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.

You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.

The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.

“Jungkookie?”

Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.

“Noona…”

You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.

The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.

Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.

“They're waiting for you downstairs.”

“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to leave you…”

His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.

“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”

“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”

“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”

“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”

“See? You're not going to leave me.”

“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”

“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”

“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”

The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.

“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”

Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.

"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.

"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.

"Yuna?"

"Mhm?"

"How was the afternoon?"

"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."

"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"

"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.

You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.

When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

jeonjungkook97 just followed you!

It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.

Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?

No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.

-

It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?

The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.

Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.

From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.

And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.

Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.

"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.

"I don't have any face."

"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."

You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."

"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."

"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Sol would never know."

"I'm not going to do that."

Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.

A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.

Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…

That was the story of your life.

So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.

Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.

So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.

You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?

Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.

And to think this all started with an Instagram story.

Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.

Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.

But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.

Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.

"Noona…?"

You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.

You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.

You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.

You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.

Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?

The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.

And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?

But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-

"y/n."

And, yet…

You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Noona… you're really here."

You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.

"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.

As if you cared.

—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—

"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"

He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.

"Who gave you the right to come here?"

You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.

"How the fuck did you even find me?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't fucking want to know!"

You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.

"And I don't want to see you. So leave."

"Noona…"

"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"

You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.

You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.

You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.

Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.

-

a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison

[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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[alexlwrites]

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

OR  

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a (now ex-ish) plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor. 

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from  you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.” 

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence. 

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen. 

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him. 

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would. 

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them. 

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?” 

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you? 

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry. 

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture. 

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers. 

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment? 

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…” 

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?” 

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

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