#JHope fanfic

[starbandit]

Sticky (J.H.S)

Preview: You gulped, swallowing down all the thoughts that flooded your brain. You wanted to pounce on him, something animalistic was growing inside of you. 

contains- teasing, slight degradation, small amount of ass slapping/spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, dom!hoseok, dirty talk, begging, established relationship 18+ MDI!

word count - 2.8k/unedited

You held your breath as you typed in the code to the studio. Hoseok had left early in the morning, while the sun was still working its way into the sky and the morning dew was still hugging the grass. He didn’t leave before giving you a soft kiss on the forehead, and a gentle tuck of the blankets though. He loved the way you curled up closer to his side, stealing any of the left over body heat. 

You wanted to surprise him with a late night snack,you had a little craving for ice cream and wanted to share the sweet treat with him.You had picked up some ice cream on your way over and snuck into the Hybe building. The door unlocked with a click and you silently pushed the door open, hoping you wouldn't give up the surprise too soon. 

Only, the room is empty when you open the door all the way. Hobi’s computer is powered off, the chair is neatly pushed in, everything is perfectly in its place and shut down. Did he leave while you were on your way over? No, you would have crossed paths at some point, right? Maybe he had stepped out for a minute and would be back. You took a deep breath before your brain started to feed you extreme thoughts. Kidnapping, him cheating, all of it rushed in at once before you shut the door and made your way down the hall. There was one more place he could be. 

As you approached the practice room, you could hear the loud and heavy beats of music. You weren’t sure how he hadn’t damaged his hearing yet with how loud the music was, but you creeped in, trying not to be spotted and sat on the couch in the corner of the practice room and admired your boyfriend. 

He was staring himself down in the mirror, examining every small step he made. Each one was done with practiced confidence, perfect execution. You would never not be amazed at how his body went from moving in a wave, like he had absolutely no bones, to these extreme sharp movements in an instant. 

Soon enough, Hoseok stopped dancing and instead crouched down to check his phone. It wasn’t until he looked into the mirror that he spotted you. His face instantly lit up, a large smile growing as he stood back up. “Baby!” He squealed out as he rushed towards you. “When did you get here?” 

You giggled as he cupped your face and planted tiny kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. He caught you in a warm kiss, soft and innocent. You smiled against his lips before he pulled away. 

“I brought ice cream.” You smiled as he made a surprised expression, mouth forming a cute ‘O’ shape. 

Hoseok smiled and pulled you into a hug. He was sweaty, his shirt damp from the hours he spent dancing. He gave you a tight squeeze, rocking from side to side. “Thank you.” He planted yet another kiss on the top of your head before releasing you to dig into the ice cream. 

The two of you enjoyed the ice cream, both giggling as you stole bites of the other's flavor. Conversation flowed naturally as Hoseok talked about his day, all the hard work he had put into his set, and how he was so excited for you to see how it turned out. He listened as you rambled on about your day as well, nodding along with the conversation as you talked about annoying co-workers and wanting to stay in bed all day. 

“I’m going to run through one more time and then I’ll head home with you,” Hoseok moved to clean up the empty ice cream cups. “Does that sound okay, baby?” 

Your heart fluttered at the pet name. No matter how long you had been together, it still made you feel like the day you started dating. You hummed in confirmation and nodded your head. “I’ll be cheering you on, like always.” 

He smiled and finished cleaning up, before running back over to the mirrors and tapping play on his playlist. You watched him carefully as he ran through, making it about halfway before his actions made your heart race. You watched as the mirror began to fog up, you could see the sweat beading on his face. 

Hoseok reached down and tugged his shirt off, throwing it off to the side as he continued to dance. His soft abs flexed with every movement. The blood rushed to your face and you felt your cheeks growing hot. Sweat glistened on his skin, dripping down and highlighting every section of his abs, all the way down to the thin layer of hair that dipped below his waistband. 

You gulped, swallowing down all the thoughts that flooded your brain. You wanted to pounce on him, something animalistic was growing inside of you. 

Suddenly, the music stopped and Hoseok was stood in front of you. He crouched down next to you and silently captured you in a kiss. It was soft and warm, a stark contrast to the dance you had just watched him perform. It was always warm with Hoseok, something you could melt into in an instant. You did so, easily falling into his touch and the softness of his lips. 

His hands held you gently, a small hum sounding from him as you moved closer to dig your hands into his hair. Your hands made their way to the back of his head, your fingers tangling in the sweaty strands. You gave them a gentle tug, something you knew Hoseok enjoyed. 

He let out a small whimper at the movement and you quickly captured his bottom lip in a light nibble. You whined quietly as he pulled away from the kiss, not yet untangling your fingers from his locks. “Come on, let's go home.” Hoseok said quietly, moving to help pull you up. 

You shook your head, fighting the movement. You wanted, no, needed him now. You weren’t going to wait for however long it took you to walk home. You pulled him down into another kiss, this time growing much hotter. Your hands gripped his hair, tugging at the locks a little harsher this time, and deepened the kiss. Your tongue peaked into his mouth, tasting the remaining sweetness of the ice cream on his tongue. 

Hoseok smirked against your lips as he pulled away. “That impatient?” He questioned in a teasing tone. He shook his head. “Such a needy baby.” He gently tugged you closer, tugging you into his lap after he sat on the ground. You could feel his growing erection against your heat, the thin shorts he had on covered absolutely nothing. You sighed at the feeling, rocking your hips forward in a slow grind as you leaned in for another kiss. 

Hoseok gently cupped your face, taking control of the kiss this time. He kissed you a little too soft, a little too slow, just enough to keep you wanting more. Each time you tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled back slightly. He was teasing you, like a bird taunts a cat through the window. He did it for long enough to draw a needy whine out of your throat before he fully kissed you, capturing you in a red hot, messy kiss. 

You moaned at the feeling, your hands reaching up to find purchase on his bare chest. You melted into the kiss, allowing Hoseok to paint your mouth with his tongue. His kisses were intoxicating, your brain buzzing with the feeling and taste of him. The subtle sweetness mixed with his natural taste was enough to soak your underwear. 

“Couldn’t even let me finish my work,” Hoseok snaked his hand between the two of you, fingers dancing over your clothed center. “You were that desperate for my cock, hm?” He teased as he pushed your hair to the side with his other hand. His head dipped down to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck. “Such a needy little baby.” 

“Hoseok,” You whimpered as he rubbed small circles over your clothed clit. Your hips twitched forward, searching for more friction. “Hobiii,” Your eyebrows furrowed together. 

He hummed against your skin, trailing his tongue from the base of your neck up to your ear. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” He nibbled on the outside of your ear, a shiver snuck its way now your back at the sensation. 

“You, I want you.” 

Hoseok chuckled. “Be specific.” 

Your ears grew hot. You could be specific. Tell him about how you want him to strip you naked and eat your pussy like it was his last meal, wanted him to sink his fingers deep into you and massage the spot that made you see stars. You could tell him how you wanted to ride him, bounce on his cock until you were shaking and out of breath. 

But that isn’t what came out of your mouth. “I want you to fuck me, please, fuck me until I can’t walk.” 

“Come on,” Hoseok withdrew his hand and bounced his leg to get you to stand. You stood up and followed Hoseok. He led you to the front of the room, straight in front of the large mirror that sprawled across most of the wall. He quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and folded it, placing it in front of the mirror. “On your hands and knees.” 

You froze for a second before a smack on your ass made you jump. “I said, on your hands and knees, or do I need to force you?” Hoseok questioned. You quickly dropped to your knees, falling onto the shirt. You watched as Hoseok pulled his shorts and boxers off at once, kicking them across the floor. Saliva built up in your mouth as you stared at his cock, tip pretty pink and shiny with precum. 

It wasn’t long before Hoseok dropped to his knees as well and pulled your pants down, the waistband settling in the crevices of your knees. “I want you to watch.” He gently tugged on your hair to make you pick up your head. You locked eyes in the mirror, your stomach fluttering with nerves as you watched him. Your arms shook as he placed a hand on your ass and used the other one to drag his cock up and down your pussy. You watched as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, admiring you. “Hobi, please,” You whimpered as you pushed back slightly, trying to get him to do something. 

His hand pulled away before coming down again, a sharp smack sounding through the room. You winced as he rubbed his hand over the area, soothing the hot skin. “So needy,” He muttered under his breath as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock before plunging in. 

A moan ripped its way through your body as he settled into place. Your arms shook before crumpling under you, your cheek making contact with the cold floor. Hoseok gave you a few thrusts, hips moving with practiced ease, hitting every spot that made your eyes roll back. You whimpered with every movement.

Hoseok's grip tightened on your hip, pulling you back with each movement to meet him. His other hand trailed up your back, fingertips tickling the skin and making you wiggle with every touch. His hand landed under your shirt, skin hot and burning your back the longer it sat there. He stayed for a few moments before his hand retreated from under your shirt and moved over the fabric, finding its way up the back of your neck and into your hair. His fingers tangled into the locks, twisting them over his hand and tugging hard. A whimper flew out of your mouth as he tugged again, this time enough to get you to push back up to your hands and stay there.

“Good girl,” He growled out a small praise. “Look in the mirror, watch yourself.” 

You were a mess. You caught a fuzzy glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the glass was fogging back up, moisture beading and dripping. Your lips were bitten red and glossy, the color matched the deep blush of your cheeks. Drool glistened and stained your chin, sweat dripped down your neck and painted the hickeys Hoseok had so graciously left on your neck. Your eyes were glassy and pupils blown, eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure. 

Your eyes flickered to Hoseok, who was intensely watching your every move. An animalistic glint glossed over his eyes and a smirk painted his face as he delivered a particularly deep thrust. You tightened around him, watching as his jaw clenched and a groan pushed its way out of his body. 

Every roll of his hips brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. The drag of his cock over your walls made your thighs shake. You pressed back in desperation, trying to get him impossibly closer, deeper. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gasped, chasing the high that was just out of reach. 

“Poor baby, do you want to cum?” Hoseok wiggled his hips before stopping his movements, cock nestled deep in your pussy. “Pretty girl, are you close?” He released your hair, gently combing through the sweaty strands. 

You whimpered and nodded. “Please, wanna cum.” You pushed back against him. The heat was dissipating with every second. “Please, Hoseok, I can’t.” You let out a broken moan. 

“I wanna watch you do it, fuck yourself on my cock, baby.” He planted another smack on your ass. 

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you tried to find a messy rhythm. You rocked yourself back on Hoseok’s cock, moving your hips in an attempt to hit the same spots he was. A frustrated whine left your lips as you desperately tried to chase your high back, the heat slowly building up once more in your abdomen. 

You continued until you were out of breath and collapsed forward with a pathetic moan. “Too tired, baby?” Hoseok reached forward to gently stroke your hair. You gave a small nod. His features softened before his grip on your hips tightened. “You were so close, huh?” He rolled his hips forward once more. He clicked his tongue and let out a breath. “Do you want me to make you cum?” 

You had never agreed to anything faster. Hoseok immediately picked up where he had left off, moving his hips in ways you could only dream of and hitting spots that made you see stars. His hands danced from your hips, snaking around until his fingers found your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck,” A guttural moan ripped through your body. The heat in your abdomen grew as Hoseok rubbed the bundle of nerves. “I-i’m gonna cum, please don’t stop.” 

“Cum for me, baby.” Hoseok grunted. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass grew louder. “Cum on my cock, I know you want to.”

“S-shit.” Your whole body shook as your orgasm washed over you, your pussy spasming around Hoseok's cock. Your vision went white and your ears began ringing as you let out a loud, pornographic moan. 

You heard Hoseok let out a string of curse words, his hips stuttering forward in a messy rhythm. “Gonna fucking,” He let out a strangled moan, “Fill you up so good.” You gasped as he released, hot cum painting your insides. That alone was almost enough to push you into another orgasm, almost. 

Hoseok stayed where he was for a few moments and drew small circles over the exposed skin on your lower back. “You ready?” He questioned softly. He waited for a hum of confirmation before slowly pulling out of you. The cum dripped down your thigh as you collapsed to the ground, groaning at the soreness in your muscles. You were thankful of the shirt Hoseok had placed below you, it had both saved your knees from more pain and was going to make for easier clean up. 

Hoseok hushed you as he wiped you clean with the discarded shirt before wiggling your pants back up over your hips. He gave your ass a soft pat before moving to get redressed himself, digging through his bag to find a fresh t-shirt.

He wasn’t about to let you sleep on the floor, instead coaxing you up with promises of a nice bath and a head massage at home. He giggled and cooed over your tired expression as you stood up, dodging a playful slap from you at the teasing. Hoseok admired your features for a few moments longer before you two set off back home. He couldn’t believe you were his, his pretty baby.  

[lxvemaze]

instagram stories with bf!hobi

namjoon, jin, yoongi, hobi, jimin, taehyung, jungkook

[violetsiren90]

Make Me

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut; platonic(?) fluff; BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom (and such a good one); MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play if you squint; mentions of wet dreams and sexual fantasies; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling in a domination context; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace but also the absolute best; Hobi in the studio 👀; wrestling (sexual context); spanking (sexual context); p*ssy-stepping; p*ssy slapping; sexual frustration; some initial shame and embarrassment (reader needs to work some things out); reader tries to run away from herself a bit; temporary ghosting; working through new desires and feelings; dirty dancing; ALL the communication; establishment of sexual roles/partnership; talk about birth control and protection; Hobi curses a LOT during domination scenes; leash/collar play; oral sex (male receiving); throat fucking; Hobi slaps Reader's tongue with his c*ck; cum swallowing; aftercare; restraint play (sex swing, heehee 😈); manual clitoral stimulation; teasing; unprotected vaginal sex (reader is on birth control & previously consents); female orgasm from vaginal penetration; very brief implication of a possible brush with subspace.

Word Count: ~16,000 (Double its originally intended length, oops 🙈)

Author's note: HOLY HECK IT'S FINALLY HERE. When I say I had the time of my life writing this...like, wow. I was already under Hobi's spell, but now I am OFFICIALLY down in the worst way. This fic and its premise were completely out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't be happier that I ventured into this world, because the research alone has given me so much respect for the BDSM community, and specifically the dom/sub relationship. I hope I did as much justice to that very special dynamic as possible between these two characters (with whom I have deeply fallen in love). If you read this, I hope so very much that you enjoy it!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Acknowledgements: The biggest of thanks to @orchidyoonkook who not only beta-read this fic multiple times, and is practically the voice of this Jimin, but also gave me so much wonderful insight into the BDSM community from that big sexy brain of hers (which contains an incredible amount of knowledge about so many things, let me tell you!). But most of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to get this out of my imagination and onto the page, even when I was doubting myself the most. Yoons, I love you! Couldn't have done it without you. 💕

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

     You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

     "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

     The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

     "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

     Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

     You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

     "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

     He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

     "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

     At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. 

You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

     Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down.

It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

     "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

     "I told him…

“What?”

“I said..."

     "What?"

     "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

     You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. 

You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. 

Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? 

That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. 

Shit.

     "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

     He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

     "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

     You don't answer him. You can't.

Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his gray sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

     "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

     He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bear.

     "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

     He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

     "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

     "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

     You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

     "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

     "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

     But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

     "When you're a filthy, pathetic little slut."

     A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together – whether to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure. When he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes flutter frantically open. 

     "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?"

Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long – something that yearns to feed.

     You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

     "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. 

His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want – your friend. 

Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

     "Y-yes! Yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

     So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body.

You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

     "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his saccharine words.

     You blink, your mind running up against the sudden pet name – one that he has never uttered in a tone like this before – as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

     "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

     "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever – okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

     You nod.

     "Say it for me," he whispers, and you shiver again. Fuck.

     "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

     "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

     You scramble to find your voice.

     "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

     He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

     "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

     He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

     "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

  He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

     "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

     "No, Hobi," you whisper. 

And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

     "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

     You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and absolutely exhilarating.

When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want.

You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

     "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

     "Make me."

     His eyes go wide and wild.

     "So that's how it's gonna be?"

     The words are heavy and dark, but you think his mouth twitches up at the corner when you arch a recalcitrant brow in response.

     He hums and licks his lips, and you're on the verge of saying something about getting on with it when his hand darts out and fists a chunk of your hair, yanking it back with a force that makes your head spin. He's glaring down at you with eyes so hard and menacing that your rebuttal dies on your tongue. The hand at your nape squeezes and the pressure that seers your scalp is exquisite, spilling a moan from your lips as your arousal becomes more than you are capable of repressing.

     "Don't you challenge me, brat," he rumbles from low in his chest as his hand twists against your head and lowers your back to press against the black leather.

     You whine in protest, and your palms fly up to shove at him, but his reflexes are like lightning as he snatches your wrists away to pin them above you. Your head spins, eyes losing focus as your whole body flushes with warmth in the wake of his domineering aggression. 

     You wriggle in his hold, relishing in how his grip tightens and the cold steel in his eyes glints as you resist him.

     A knee slides between your legs as he leans over you menacingly, close enough for the padlock charm around his neck to lightly tap your raised chin. Good girl, it seems to whisper in Hoseok's voice, stay put.

     Yeah, fuck that.

     You snatch the necklace up between your teeth and yank it to the side where it bites sharply into the corner of your mouth.

     The sudden motion catches him off guard and he falters, crashing down on top of you with a noise of surprise and losing control of your hands.

     You scramble against him, rolling both of you to the floor with a thud.

     Your heart is hammering in your chest.

     You hear him grunt, his strong hands grappling with your thrashing form, and you catch just a glimpse of his shining eyes and white clenched teeth as he flips you over onto your stomach, hands in a vice grip at the small of your back and your cheek pressing into the cold, hard laminate.

     You start to move again but he pushes his weight into the slender fingers splayed over your spine with a low rumble in the back of his throat and you still with a groan.

     You're pressed so deliciously firmly to the floor. You can feel arousal soaking your panties as your nerves alight everywhere he has wrested control of you. You can hear him pant, proof of his efforts, and the image of his provoked expression from seconds previous flashes through your mind.

He seemed so cool and collected before. So unbothered. To think that his blood is up and because of you? You let out a trembling breath.

     "Fuck," he hisses lowly, then bends to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

They're soft as they drag over your skin there, feather light. Your whole body shakes, and you feel his mouth pause.

     "I don't know who the hell you think you are," he whispers cruelly, "But you were right about one thing...you're not a good girl. You're a disobedient little harlot who needs to be taught the rules of this house." 

      You whimper pathetically as he presses into you even more intensely, restricting the expansion of your lungs.

     "Now," he says nosing at your exposed neck as he begins to pull away, "how about we teach you a lesson or two, hm?"

     You feel his weight leave your back, and see his figure rock back on his heels out of the corner of your eye. You are just on the verge of retaliating again when you let out a yelp at the sudden shock of your hips being yanked upward by the back belt loop of your denim shorts. Hoseok lets go of your hands and they fly forward to brace yourself as your ass raises into the air and your knees move toward your chest.

     And all at once you know what's coming and you feel your pussy clench in the mere anticipation of -

     Smack!

     You let out a wanton wail as the sharp crack of his hand against your right glute jolts through your body like a lightning strike and ends with a slam at your swollen clit.

     Again - harder! Your mind screams. So you press out a whinging moan of complaint.

     SMACK!

     It has the desired effect.

     CRACK!

     Your jaw is slack, but no sound escapes as he punishes you. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. As if he's attempting to brand your ass with the shape of his hand. But holy hell is it making you drip. Every slap jolts your body and brings the tiniest friction to where you're neediest. Where you've never been needier in your life.

     Please punish my pussy....

     You try to mumble the words but all you can do is drool onto the floor as he deals out pleasure and pain from above.

     And then he stops. You feel hands deftly and swiftly rolling you to lie on your back.

You blink up through bleary eyes, drawing a hand across your mouth to wipe the spit away. Your shoulders are sore.

     He's leaning over you, a hand still on your hip, eyes scanning your face.

     "What? Did you say something? You need to speak up."

     His tone is still biting but his eyes seem to hold a genuine question. Concern.

     Warmth floods your chest as it registers that he wants to be able to hear you if you need him to. If you want to stop. But the light has never been so goddamned green.

     "Want..." you murmur, "...more, Hoseok."

     He curses, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he leans forward to take your jaw in his hand again. He rakes his gaze over your soft, swollen features, unfocused eyes, and heaving chest.

     "Look at you so fucked out and all I did was smack that gorgeous ass." 

     He licks his lips, shaking his head in seeming disbelief as he releases your chin with a little shove. He leans back, dragging his hands over your bare thighs.

    "More, hm?" he hums. 

     You nod eagerly.

     He purses his lips and considers you through narrowed eyes, and you sense that if you want him to give you what you so desperately desire, you're going to have to show him you can take it - and take orders. You lay still, hands twitching at your sides as you look up at him through wide eyes. 

     He continues to run his fingertips up and down your legs as he breathes out a long relenting sigh.

     "Alright," he relents, "You took your punishment well, so you should be rewarded, I suppose."

     You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart rate rising again at the prospect.

     He tilts forward, looming over you again as he asks the question you've been dying to answer since you woke up breathless all those weeks ago.

     "What does my little brat want me to do to her? Let's see if she can use her words."

     You blink up at him, unsure if you have permission to speak...or how to put your request into words that won't make you want to immediately melt through the floorboards.

     "Cat got your tongue?" Hoseok sneers, pretty, heart-shaped lips curling up at one side.

     His hat discarded in your tussle, wavy brown tresses hang down over his brow and his eyes sparkle darkly through them. His features are so beautiful - their loveliness thrown into sharp relief by the flinty pitilessness of their expression.

     You're tempted to continue simply soaking him in, if not for the pounding ache in your core demanding that you find your voice.

     "I...I want..." your lips tremble as you will yourself to tell him what you need.

     Perhaps he senses that you require a little encouragement, because his eyes harden and he digs the edges of his nails into the flesh of your knees, causing you to yelp and moan and then...

     "I want you to step on my pussy! Please..." You press out your request with the last of the breath in your lungs.         

     Hoseok's eyes flutter shut at the last word of your plea.

     "Say that again," he commands in a husky whisper, and even without further specification, somehow, you know.     

     "Please..." You groan, letting your legs drop open demurely.

     His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the action with his hands, which have now slipped just inside your knees to your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose, before exhaling with a shuddering breath. When his lids languidly raise again the piercing onyx of what they have unveiled is pinning you to the floor with more deadly force than even his hands ever could. Your pulse pounds in your cunt, your head still swimming from your previous position as he pushes himself up to stand. 

     As you blink up at Hoseok towering over you, standing between your splayed thighs with his midnight gaze boring into the damp denim covering your heat, something inside you long ajar quietly but firmly clicks into place. 

     "Tell me, brat" he seethes, eyes roving your trembling form stretched out beneath him, "Who makes the rules in this house?"

     "Hoseok-ssi," you whimper, so needy the ache is beginning to hurt.

     Every cell of your body is awake with a desperate anticipation that only he can satisfy...or deny.

     You have never felt more alive.

     And then something happens and your brain shuts off entirely. 

Everything vanishes: the studio, the traffic outside the western window, the city of Seoul and South Korea and the whole goddamned planet rolling around in the Milky Way. Nothing exists except the tip of Hoseok's Air Jordan ghosting over the swell of your crotch. 

     Your mouth waters as his foot slowly slides forward, then goes completely dry as you feel it settle with the sole aligned directly with your slit. His eyes flick up to your face, but you can't hold his gaze for more than a millisecond as he begins to apply pressure to your mound.

     Your eyes roll back in your skull, head lolling as your neck goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream as the man above you presses down with a low hum over your sex. The seam of your shorts is biting deliciously into the tender flesh of your clit, sending shockwaves through your core like a live wire, and when he rolls his foot in a circular motion you think you see god. 

You do scream then, but it's nothing more than a strangled sound in your throat as your fantasies materialize and he leans his weight into his stance, punishing the soft fat of your cunt with the sole of his shoe.

     You're going to cum. He's barely touched you and you're going to cum. He seems to see it in the twisted ecstasy of your features as his lids hood his eyes and filth begins to spill from his lips.

     "Do you like that, brat?" he taunts, "That's what you get when you're a good little girl for Hoseok -  you get your pretty wet cun-"  

     Click jangle clack - boom boom boom! 

     Hobi springs away from you, hopping back on one foot with wide eyes as a succession of rapid knocks follow the stilted motions of the locked door handle. You scramble up from the floor, heart pounding and breath coming fast as you toss yourself into the corner of the couch. 

     Boom, boom, boom!

     "Hyung, are you naked or something?" comes a familiar if muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

     You fumble for your phone and Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before pulling open the door.

     The man belonging to the impatient knocks and muffled accusations stumbles headlong into the studio, the locked entrance against which he had pressed his ear and most of his weight having been pulled out from under him.

"Jimi...nie...?" Hobi greets his bandmate and his eyes track the other's toppling form with surprise and a hint of agitation. 

     Yoongi ambles in casually behind him, sipping a dewy americano through a straw, a beanie sitting atop his ashy locks gnomishly.

     Jimin nimbly pushes himself to a stand from where he had crashed against Hobi's desk, not a strand of his coiffed platinum blond hair askew as he spins around face to the dance captain. But before he can get out a greeting or an excuse for his manner of entrance he freezes as he spots you in the corner.

His eyes flick to Hobi's hat on the floor, then to the pink flush on the apples of his friend's cheeks. When Jimin's eyes slide back over to where you are curled into your nook, eyeing him warily over the tiny shield of your phone, his plush lips slowly spread into a sickeningly devious smile.

     Hobi scoops his hat up off the floor and tugs in back on before taking a seat, carefully, you notice - thighs pressed together and leaning forward - in his rolling chair. The implication of his posture has you sweating into your shirt.

You need to get it the fuck together.

     "If I would have known you were here I'd have brought you a kimbap," Jimin says, wicked grin still plastered on his face as he holds up a plastic convenience store bag.

     You blink. 

     "Oh, uh, that's okay..." you bluster, waving your hand. "I'm not hungry anyway." 

     It's true. You just lost your appetite for the foreseeable future, stomach a raging sea of nerves as Jimin places the bag on the desk.

     Yoongi shuffles over to sit at the other end of the couch, raising his free hand and drawing his mouth into a straight line in greeting. You manage your own tight-lipped grin and flash him a peace sign, hoping you did it quickly enough that the tremor in your hand went unnoticed.

     "To what do I owe this visit from my bros?" Hobi asks from where he's turned toward his computer screen to save the neglected file. 

His voice is cheerful, but you can hear the strain - how it's pitched just half a tone too high - and Jimin's eyes are still on you.

     "I dragged Yoongi hyung out for some fresh air. I took him to lunch and grabbed you a snack on the way back."

     "Yah, you took me to lunch? Then why did I pay?" Yoongi grumbles from beside you, his bare features pinched into a grumpy pout that makes him look particularly feline.

     "Because you love me," Jimin coos at him and the older musician's mouth quirks up into a smile he can't seem to repress. 

     "What are you working on, Hoba? Which track?" Yoongi murmurs around the straw between his lips, blinking patiently as Hobi seems to shake himself, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before readjusting it on his head and swiveling back toward his computer screen.

     He hits play on the track and Yoongi leaves the couch to join the other two.

     This is all so normal, so typical of the guys - the affectionate repartee and chat about ongoing projects. And on an average day, you'd have joined right in. 

But today is not an average day. 

No.

Five minutes ago, you were spread-eagle on the floor six inches from where Jimin stands, with Hoseok's shoe on your bits.

     You have to get out of here.

     "I'm, uh, I'm gonna head out, boys," you muster, making a beeline for the door as soon as the inertia of your decision gives you the courage to peel yourself from the corner of the couch.

     "You're leaving?" Jimin's voice quips in a saccharine whine, with the slightest edge that makes you avoid his eyes as you slip out with a parting wave.

You do catch Hoseok's expression, whose head snaps up at your parting movements. His brows furrow and his lips part, looking as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

     And then you're gone.

    Your smart watch trills as your heart rate enters cardio territory. Your chest is heaving, breath coming heavy as the pliant cushion of your couch gives way to the crown of your head pressing back into it, eyes pinched shut and hand shoved down your pants. 

The bullet vibrator you have pressed to your clit is doing everything it should, and you feel it coming - your orgasm. 6:12pm on a Tuesday and it's already your third self-love session of the day. 

You tense your thighs, urging the building pressure in your core to boil over, and quickly. You groan and grit your teeth as your administering hand starts to shake. You writhe and whimper for a moment. And then it's over.

     You stare up at the ceiling of your apartment, breathlessly huffing out a despondent sigh as the empty ache in your chest returns. It has become your loathsomely devoted companion in every waking moment over the last ten days, filling you with an unshakable restlessness and sickly discontent.

     Nothing can slake it. Not reality TV. Not Cabernet Sauvignon. Not overtime hours. Not ASMR wood-soup videos. Not yoga. Not Ben and Jerry's. Not midnight runs on your NordicTrack. Not fucking yourself to climax on every single goddamned toy you own. 

     The little monster you roused the weekend before last in Hope World hasn't returned to sleep. No. She is wide awake. And she seems to grow more ravenous with each passing day. 

At first you tried to ignore her, but she kept you up into the long, bleak hours of the night. And so, in a fuzzy, staticky haze some time after midnight a number of days ago you typed some words into a search engine that would probably have your assigned FBI agent doing a spit-take.

     The thing is, you'd never seen "50 Shades of Grey", you'd never been interested. It wasn't as if you were a prude - hardly! You have always enjoyed sex, both intimate and recreational. In fact, it has always been one of your favored methods of blowing off steam, and you knew quite well how to please yourself and how to guide partners in doing the same.

     You have never had problems in taking what you wanted in life, in taking charge and ensuring that things play out your way – it's what makes you so good at your job, and valued by your peers who know that they can rely on you to take the reins and rise to the occasion.

     So when you suddenly stumbled unprepared into the world of BDSM, your visceral reaction to the concept of submission left you wondering...why?

Why, why, why? 

Why does this do it for you? Why did your very linear, stable existence have to be completely disrupted by this discovery? And most urgently of all, why, for the love of everything sacred, did all the porn in the whole wide world fail to accomplish even a fraction of the effect of Jung Hoseok's size 9 sneaker? It's all too overwhelming to process.

     You let out a frustrated whine as you pull your sticky, cramped hand, still clutching the little purple bullet, from the confines of your pants. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you can see the notification is from Jimin. You've been ignoring his calls and pleading texts to meet up, or just pick up. You can't face him. Not after ghosting Hobi.

     You feel a pang twist in your stomach as you haul yourself toward the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the guilt you feel for ignoring Hoseok outright. He texted you almost immediately after you left the studio, asking if you were alright. You let him know that you were, with just one word: yeah.

     You had typed and retyped that response. "Yeah, thanks" seemed too weird. Like, thanks for what? Almost making you cum with the tip of his shoe? No. "Yeah, sorry" felt pathetic. What were you apologizing for? It seemed to imply...regret? Or fault. Neither of which would have come from a genuine place. And beyond a simple affirmation, you certainly didn't have words. So, "yeah" it was. He tried to call you later that evening, but you didn't pick up. You were already way up in your head by then. It had been radio silence since.

     You toss a coconut steamer onto the wet shower tiles and sigh, catching a glimpse of your face in the bathroom mirror as you slide the glass door shut.

     "Coward," you mutter as you close your eyes and slip under the cleansing stream.

     You're wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and sipping a cup of sleepy-time tea, trying to distract yourself from the messy tangle of emotions waging war across your various chakras with season two of Single's Inferno, when a knock on the door startles you out of your simmering reverie. You heave yourself off the carpeted floor of your living room and scoot toward the door like a fleecy Jabba the Hutt to peek through the peephole.

     Your vision is obscured as another eye looks back at you from the other side of the concave glass. You jump back, dropping your blanket shroud in a pile around your feet and let out a yelp of alarm. You slam a hand over the peep hole as giggles erupt on the other side.

     "Yah! I know you're in there - so let me in!"

     Your entire body sags against the door in relief as you recognize the voice of the would-be intruder. You swing the door open to grant him exasperated entrance.

     "Park Jimin, you just took ten years off my life! Creep," you bluster, gathering the blanket up around your body as you retreat back into your apartment. 

You plop down again in front of the TV, knowing that Jimin came to either talk you into going out or to just talk, and either way, you are truly not in the mood. Your friend snickers behind you, sauntering into your kitchen. He returns with a beer, bringing the frosty green bottle to his lips before sinking into an armchair and regarding you with an expression that waivers between amusement, pity, and disgust.

     "You look awful," he remarks, taking another swig as his gaze roves your unkempt appearance.

     Your features twist into a frown, eyes never leaving the television.

     "You don't get to barge into my apartment, steal my booze, then insult me, Park," you snip, burrowing further down into the fluffy mass encasing your body.

     Jimin raises a brow, a small smile still playing on his lips as he follows your eyes to the television where YouTuber Dex and professional model Lim Minsu flirtatiously splash about in a ridiculously opulent indoor swimming pool.

     "Fuck, Dex is hot," Jimin mutters.

     "For some reason he reminds me of Jungkook," you smirk, glancing over at him for the first time since he arrived.

     He grimaces theatrically.

     "I don't see it."

     The contestant on the screen flashes his Paradise companion a blinding smile and raises a tattooed arm to cut through the water, content to show off his stroke precision as his date watches on. The resolve on Jimin's face falters .

     "Yeah, well...Dex is hotter."

     You scoff.

     "Yeah, no. Kook-ah is definitely hotter."

     "For the love of god, just don't tell him that, okay?" Jimin pleads, "That kid is insufferable enough these days."

     "You love him."

     He hides a smile behind another sip of Hite.

     "Why did you ghost Hobi hyung?"

     Jimin blinks innocent eyes at you, as if he hasn't just dumped the last week and a half of silent agony over your head like a bucket of ice water. But the chill is momentary, because the next second your body feels like an oven. You stammer.

     "I-I...ghost him? I didn't ghost anyone...I'm busy...I..." you trail off weakly as your friend's unimpressed and knowing gaze bores into your soul.

     You sigh and scrub your hands over your face.

     "Because I'm a big chicken, okay?" You murmur into your palms.

     You don't know why, but you feel like crying. When you pull your hands away from your face, Jimin must see it because suddenly he's on the couch wrapping you in the kind of hug that reminds you why he's your ride-or-die, and in the safety of his embrace the tears begin to fall. Days of being alone with yourself and your conflicted feelings pour from your ducts and onto the front of Jimin's bright yellow flannel. He coos words of reassurance, admonishing your tears, as he strokes your hair.

     "Talk to me, you silly goose," he hums with an endeared chuckle. 

     You sniff and hiccup as you pull away, wiping your puffy eyes.

     "I don't even know what to say, Minnie...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

     Jimin smiles and grabs a few tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing them against your nose.

     "Well, first of all, nothing is wrong with you. But second of all, tell me what is bothering you."

     You heave a dramatic sigh.

     "If I tell you, you have to swear - and I mean swear - that you will not make fun of me or tell anyone else. And I mean not Taehyung, not Yoongi, not anyone, you hear me?" 

     He smirks, but nods in assent. You narrow your eyes at him.

     "Say it. Out loud." You demand warily.

     Jimin rolls his eyes and throws up his hands.

     "Yah! Okay! I won't tell anyone," he quips mockingly.

     You sigh again and draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. If this gets too hard to talk about with eye-contact at least you'll have a place to hide your bashful face.

      "I..." you start softly, not sure where to begin except the beginning, "Re-remember that thing I told you when we got plastered a little while back...about...Hobi?"

     Jimin's lips quirk at the corners as he nods.

     "Well...the thing is...wait!" You cut yourself off, suddenly gripped by a notion that has you prematurely flustered and indignant. "What did he tell you?"

     Jimin shakes his head, a small smile still playing on his full lips.

     "Nothing," he responds, looking you dead in the eye in a way that has you almost believing he's telling the truth. 

     "No, really," you press.

     Jimin leans back against the arm of the couch from where he faces you, running a hand through his hair and drawing his legs up to criss-cross in front of him.

     "Jagi, this is Hobi hyung we're talking about. You think he would do that? He has too much respect for you. He would never. Not to anyone. Not even me."

     Your chest floods with relief, affection, and regret. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't. He was too mature of a person for that. Too considerate. Too lovely. And you hadn't even had the gumption to speak to him for the last ten days beyond a mono-syllabic SMS. Jimin watches your expression do emotional acrobatics.

     "So..." he offers encouragingly, "something...happened....between you guys, right? That day Yoongi hyung and I showed up? We...uh...interrupted something, didn't we?" He can't help a devilish smile, eyes twinkling as he carefully phrases his query.

     You bury your face into your knees and squeak out an affirmation. Jimin lets out a bright laugh and you immediately raise your burning face in a scowl.

     "Hey! You said you wouldn't-" 

     He waves his hands in apology as he attempts to gain his composure.

     "Mianhae, mianhae! I'm not laughing at you!" He insists, leaning forward to grab your swatting hands by the wrists.

     "Sounds kind of like you are!" You huff, yanking your arms from his grasp.

     "So..." Jimin hums, tilting his head to track your gaze as you try again to hide your face, "If he's down, and you're down...what's the problem? Why did you run and hide? Did your feelings change?"

     You slowly raise your eyes to his, searching them as you decide just how much you're willing to tell him right now. You chew on your bottom lip as you realize you need to get it out. All of it. You drop your legs to mirror Jimin's posture, lowering your defenses with your millionth-and-first sigh of the evening.

     "Okay...well..." you muse, fiddling with the blanket still draped over your lap. "You know how I told you that stuff that I...dreamt...about Hobi?"

     Jimin nods.

     "Well...something did kind of happen...and well..." you trail off as Jimin raises his brows expectantly.

     "Oh, fuck it!" you bluster, exhausted by your own attempts at delicacy. "He dominated me and I liked it. I really really liked it, okay? And it freaked. me. the fuck. out. Like...I've neeeeever felt that way before about fooling around. It wasn't just fun, or, like, pleasurable...it was...almost..." you search for the words as Jimin stares at you raptly. "...Freeing? Like, a relief. Like, a 'where has this shit been all my life' moment."

     Jimin hums and nods, interlacing his fingers and leaning his chin against his knuckles.

     "Like...I don't know...I'm a very independent person. And capable. And, yeah, things have been crazy stressful at work, and I have a lot on my plate...but I handle it, you know? In fact, I don't just handle it, I kind of...enjoy the pressure of leadership and responsibility? It drives me. I've always been like that, in every area of my life..." 

     Jimin smiles and lets out a sound of recognition.

     "So the one who wears the crown is wondering why it feels so good to be...subjected?" He waggles his brows. You roll your eyes.

     "Grow up, dude."

     "Am I right, though? I'm right."

     You find yourself chewing your bottom lip again.

     "Essentially. I like power. I like control. What is this sudden obsession with losing it? It's...scary. And confusing."

     Jimin smiles. 

     "You know, it's actually not that uncommon, from what I understand," he states, reaching for his abandoned beer on the coffee table.

     You quirk an eyebrow.

    "I mean, everyone is different, and this is a journey you're going to have to take for yourself to get the answers, but from what I know about the BDSM community, it's not unusual for people who are in positions of power to crave a bit of a...reprieve."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah," he nods, reclining back again against the arm of the couch, "The bedroom is a good place to let your walls down. Maybe the only place, for some people. And with a trusted partner it can even be healing to play a different role than you do in other parts of your life."

     It's your turn to smirk.

     "You talk as if you know," you prod playfully, shoving your toes into his shin. He smiles that wicked smile of his and you laugh.

     "What I'm trying to say is, maybe it's not just about the...dynamics. Maybe it's also that it's Hobi hyung. He knows you. You know him, too. You trust each other. Maybe you could get to know each other in a new way. Be something for each other that you both need." He takes the last sip of his beer and twirls the bottle in his hands, gazing at you with a gentle thoughtfulness.

     You nod slowly, digesting his newly offered perspective.

     "So," you muse, raising your eyes to him again, "You think he needs it too?" 

     Jimin shrugs. 

     "Only he could tell you that for sure. But I do know this, he's awfully good at being bossy, and doesn't get a lot of opportunity to run the show - outside of dance practice, that is."

     Chuckling nervously at the thought, you try your best to conceal the spark that has crackled to life from the burning coals inside you at the mention of his natural command of authority. 

     "Hey," Jimin posits with a grin, "Maybe if he's spanking you he'll go a little easier on us when we screw up the choreo..."

     "EXCUSE ME THE FU-WHAT?!" You shriek, snatching up a throw pillow to beat him mercilessly as he falls in raucous laughter to the floor.

     Turning to glance over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, you smooth your hands over the back of the svelte black bodycon number you've donned for the evening. You're a vision in monochrome, having paired your LBD with sleek stilettos and dark smokey eyes with heavy lashes.

     Your phone buzzes, indicating that your ride share is close by. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you reach for the finishing touch to your outfit: a velvety black choker with a sliver o-ring studded in colorless topaz. It's just fashionable enough to still look like a necklace, but it gives you a bit of a thrill to know that it's not. To know what's tucked inside your purse to accompany it. To wonder if, going unnoticed by most, it will catch a certain pair of dark eyes.

     The drive across town to reach the Jihope residence never felt so long. You try your best to calm your nerves over the last few blocks of distance - it’s just a party, after all, and kind of a silly one at that. 

During Jimin's last visit, he mentioned that he and Hobi would be throwing a Black Day party for all of their single friends the following weekend, and after dodging his attempts at socialization so religiously of late, you felt you owed it to him to attend.     

     Black Day had never been something your group of friends had ever observed before, but it was incredibly chic to do so this year, for whatever reason. And of course, all the organizing duo of the soiree needed was the slightest excuse for Jimin to party and Hobi to host.

     Upon arriving at the building, you can already hear the music pumping from the top floor, and the chatter of guests spilling out onto the terrace. You present your ID to the security guard at the front gate, and are escorted to a private elevator that whisks you up to the penthouse. Being quite successful and comfortable yourself, you still find yourself surprised when reminded of the sheer net worth of your humble, down-to-earth Bangtan pals. Hobi is worth the most, and while he is an excellent investor and a generous philanthropist, he also likes to show out, and in style.

     You take a deep breath as you buzz the bell.

     The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a black t-shirt tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, his fluffy brown hair parted in the middle and his ears glinting with rows of silver hoops. His round eyes scrunch into little moons and he flashes an adorable toothy grin, endearingly lopsided where it stretches deeper against the little orbital piercing at the right side of his bottom lip.

“Noona!" he growls, pulling you into a bear hug. "Where have you been? The last two times we went to noraebang there was no one to sing Through the Night with me!"   

     "Ah...hah...", you nervously chuckle, pulling away from his embrace as you search your brain for an excuse other than business.

     "I'll sing with you, Googie!"  

     You turn to see your salvation from further explanation in the form of a giggling young woman bouncing up to clutch Jungkook's arm and steady herself as she sways on her platform heels. She smells like soju and fruity perfume.

     You smirk and thank her, patting her hand where it clutches your friend's tattooed forearm before she's dragging him away down the hall.

     "Make sure she stays hydrated!" You call after him with a shake of your head, making your way through the throng of guests to the bar area. 

     The furnishings of the residence are a study in classy postmodern minimalism, punctuated with abstract urban art – though you notice that some of the Kaws pieces are missing, likely stored away for safekeeping from rowdy party-goers. 

     The sleek chrome and granite full-service bar is stocked with liquor and beer, and a commissioned mixologist is crafting darkly colored cocktails. A buffet-style spread offers the traditional jjajangmyeon and an assortment of other delicious eats.

     The spacious dining area is littered with small tables draped in black linens, each bearing centerpieces of hellebore, leather leaf, black carnations, and eucalyptus. The living room has been converted to a dance floor, complete with a glittering disco ball. House music booms through the built-in speaker system as guests in groups and pairs move to the beat.

     You glance over a drink menu of themed cocktails as a voice sounds from over your shoulder. 

     "I recommend the Down With Love."

     Turning, you flash the speaker a grin.

     "Alright, but is it giving Judy or Barbara?"

     Taehyung raises a disparaging brow.

     "It's a gimlet. Judy, obviously."

     You chuckle, putting in your order for the suggested beverage.

     "You look good," he remarks, gesturing at you with the unlit cigarette tucked between his first two fingers, his other hand slipped into his pocket as he leans against the wall.

     He doesn't look bad himself, you think, in his black satin top and flared Merlot trousers.

     "Thanks," you smile as the bartender hands over an inky concoction garnished with a grapefruit slice twisted into the shape of a heart and run through with a toothpick.

     You eye it skeptically.

     "How do they make it black?"

     "Activated charcoal. C'mon."

     Tae links your arm through his and weaves through the bustle to a table of familiar faces. Yoongi raises a whiskey tumbler in greeting and you clink your glass with his, sliding into a chair next to Taehyung and reaching over to give Namjoon's arm an affectionate squeeze. It seems that all the members have turned up, save Seokjin, who's been a taken man three years strong.

     You fall into easy conversation with the boys, and just when your difference of opinion with Namjoon over Lee Bul's latest installation piece is developing into a full-blown debate, Jimin slides up to the table and spills onto Taehyung's lap.

     "None of you are dancing!" He whines breathlessly, poking Tae's cheek as the other man smiles shyly.

     "Jungkook is," Yoongi rebuts, taking another bite of jjajangmyeon.

     He's not wrong, though to your amusement, the maknae appears to be getting danced on more than anything else.

    "Where's Hobi hyung?" Tae queries, prodding gently at Jimin's full cheek in return.

     Jimin's eyes dart to you, a smirk spreading slowly across his lips as his gaze rakes up from your heels to the choker around your neck.

     "Good question," he hums, rising to take your hand and pull you up from your seat. "Let's go find him."

     Jimin heads for the French doors at the far end of space that lead onto the terrace. They're propped open, and cool evening air floods the apartment, keeping the atmosphere from suffocating under the warmth of body heat and the scent of rich food.

     "Jimin!" You hiss, as you approach the rooftop patio, "What are you doing? This is the opposite of subtle!"

    He laughs merrily.

     "You're so cute when you're flustered!"

     You don't have any more time to grumble as you emerge under the darkening sky, just beginning to speckle with stars barely visible against the glow of string lights wrapped around the cozy outdoor enclosure. There's a small electric fire pit surrounded by plush patio furniture, and live greenery all around.

     The energy is much more relaxed than within, but even so, you feel your pulse quicken as Jimin guides you toward a small group at the corner of the terrace. You recognize a few of the men and women gathered as industry producers, but none of that really matters because all your brain can register is him.

     And holy shit does he look good.

     He's arresting sophistication and effortless elegance. A silk charcoal dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, ripples along the lines of his torso - save where the top three buttons have been neglected to expose the smooth planes of his toned chest. His lean, athletic legs seem even longer than usual in fitted black slacks, his pretty wrists and fingers sparkling with jewelry where his thumbs are slipped into his pockets. His hair has been slicked back from his face, and his eyes are just barely obscured by a pair of lightly tinted wire-rimmed aviators. That brilliant, warm heart-shaped smile cuts through all the sharp darkness of his garb, and your breath catches in your chest when Jimin calls out to him.

     "Hyung!"

     As Hoseok's eyes meet yours the grin stretched across his face falters, but he quickly regains composure.

     "Eyyy," he greets you, striding forward and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. Of course he smells as incredible as he looks.

     "Hi, Hobi," you murmur a bit shyly, returning his embrace.

     "Hyung," Jimin pouts cutely, "Save us! She was putting our guests to sleep talking to Namjoon-ah about art theory."

     "Hey," Hobi chides in a warning tone, cocking his head to the side to glance down at you. "Don't enable the poor guy – he needs to get laid."

     "Well nobody is going to approach him if she's hanging around looking like that." Jimin gestures casually, a mischievous twinkle glinting for a moment his eye.

     Hobi's arm slips off your shoulders to grasp your hand as he steps back. He's never been good at keeping his feelings from his face, and the look trained on his features as he appraises you has you thinking you made the right decision when you put on that dress.

     "How about we keep you out of trouble and on the dance floor, hm?" Hobi says with a sly smile, raising your hand and tilting forward in a posture of invitation.

     You roll your eyes playfully, unable to bite back a smile of your own as you motion for Hobi to lead the way, careful to avoid Jimin's eyes as you let the rapper guide you back into the thrumming pulse of the festivities.

      He gently pulls you onto the dance floor and tugs you into him, keeping a hold on your right hand as he slips the other just below the curve of your waist. You settle into an easy step to the lively beat. Hobi's eyes search your face as you tilt it up to him, running a hand up his chest to adjust the collar of his shirt with a sigh. You fiddle with the soft fabric between your fingers.   

     "I'm sorry, Hobi," you murmur, just loudly enough for him to hear.

     When he just smiles a bit sadly you feel your heart squeeze and you drop your head to his chest. You will yourself not to cry as he slows his movements, slipping a knuckle beneath your chin to raise your gaze to his own.     

     "Hajima," he protests, "Let's talk later. Right now, how about we just have some fun? I missed you."

     His expression is sweet and earnest and you feel like your chest might not have room for anything more than your complete and utter affection for this man. 

     "I missed you too," you admit with a little grin, pressing yourself against him just a bit more firmly and gazing up at him through widened eyes. He blinks for a moment, and then suddenly, there it is again, blooming across his lips - that blinding gorgeous smile, and that heady, infectious laugh.

     In one quick motion, he spins you around to face away from him as the music drops to a deep, throbbing EDM number, his fingertips grazing your hips and his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

     "You did, huh?" he purrs. "Alright, then...show me how much." 

     You suck in a breath because you don't ever think you'll be ready for how quickly he can turn that dark, deep voice in his chest into something that makes you feel like you're astral-projecting. Your first instinct is to push him away, make him take it from you...but this moment isn't for that. After your exit last time around, you’re determined to make him so incredibly certain that you want him. That you need him. 

     You lean back into him and, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the goddess of stilettos, press your ass firmly into his groin. You feel the air leave his lips in a hiss against your neck, and his hands slide to squeeze your hips and tug your body even deeper into his. You grind back against him as your body undulates with the hypnotic rhythm of the beat, but it's not long before he's taken over guiding the motion of your hips to match the rolls of his own. 

     Your eyelids flutter. You've never been this close to him. Sure, in the studio, things had gotten hot and heavy - but you had only been in his hands. He had only touched you to move you, still you, punish you. Now you are flush against his body, and everywhere you touch as he rocks you in tortuous waves against him tastes like the first sumptuous bite of a forbidden fruit. 

You can feel him beginning to swell against the plush of your ass, but even that isn't what has a familiar ache throbbing at the apex of your thighs – it's the effortlessness with which he wrests control of your body, your mind...your very being down to its most primal core.

     Hoseok's hand skids up your side and slips over your collarbones.

     "I like this necklace," he mumbles into your hair.

     You turn in his arms, slipping your fingers around the back of his neck as you raise your lips to his ear.

     "I'm disappointed in you, Hoseok," you tut, "It's not a necklace, you know." 

     He doesn't respond, but focuses on bringing his leg to slot between yours, hiking your dress up enough to tease your mound with brushes over the front of his thigh. You swallow a moan.

He's toying with you, but you won't give in. Not so easily. Not yet.

     "I guess you could call it a choker..." you rasp, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as your face presses into the side of his jaw, "That is more descriptive of its actual purpose, I suppose."

     For one millisecond in the fabric of time and space you feel his pace falter as the words spill from your lips - then he runs his hand up your back, slipping two fingers under the tight strip of velvet surrounding your throat.

     For the first time since you started dancing, you look at him. Crystalline beads of sweat have broken out on his brow, and his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes hooded and dark as tugs his fingers back to command a view of your gaze.

     "Are you telling me," he grits out lowly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip so bruisingly you gasp, "...that you showed up to my party wearing a fucking collar?" 

     You don't answer him - instead you let a wicked smile slip over your lips, refusing defiantly to drop his piercing stare. He has stopped moving you against him, stopped moving entirely. His hands are firm but still where they hold you as his eyes bore down.

     "Are you out here trying to finish what we started?"

     You tilt your head back, narrowing your eyes seductively.

     "What do you think?"

     You watch a thousand and one thoughts race through Hoseok's mind as his eyes drop to your neck again and he swallows thickly.

     "Oh, fuck it," he hisses, turning and catching your hand to pull you impatiently through the crowd. 

     You barely have time to wonder what he's thinking or where you're headed when, at the opening to the hall, he spins to grasp your waist and tuck you into a small alcove. He does it so quickly and with such force that you nearly topple the potted plant on the stand beside you.

     He pushes himself against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and his firm body pressing you to the wall. He holds your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of your body. You let out a tiny whimper.

     His peppermint breath fans over your cheeks.

     "I was going to wait," he whispers loud enough for you to hear him clearly over the music from the room behind you. "I was going to ask you...to stay. After..." he traces his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone as he squeezes your wrists tightly, his nails nipping into your skin. "But you come here with the audacity to tease me like that? Out there, in front of everyone like a desperate little slut?" 

     His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

     "I'm not a patient man," he mutters darkly, and you feel your pussy throb.

     You struggle slightly against his grasp, and he growls lowly. Turning into him, you press your mouth against his throat, letting your teeth graze his skin as you respond.

     "Then don't be."

     It's all the permission he needs. He snatches you away from the wall, dragging you down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest as you gaze at the dark mahogany door growing closer and closer with every stumbled step you take to match his hurried pace.

     He turns to glance over his shoulder, and you follow the action as he grips the handle, turns it, and...

     "What the..." Hoseok mutters, rattling the handle forcefully before raising his fist to pound against the door. "YAH! UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" He booms. 

     You hear muted voices and sounds of scurried movement from within. He bangs again and again until the door swishes open to reveal a flushed and flustered Jungkook, still fumbling with the button of his jeans.

     "Hyung! S-sorry, hyung, I was just...we were..."

     "OUT." Hoseok demands icily, pushing the door inward on its hinges to reveal the peppy, strawberry-scented young woman from before hurrying forward to tuck herself behind Jungkook as she draws a hand across her smeared lipstick. 

You bite back a grin as you watch them scuttle down the hall before Hoseok shuts and locks the door behind you.

     "That kid...seriously," he grumbles. "He knows my room is off limits."

     You chuckle, despite his lack of amusement, and he takes your hand again, drawing you toward a small couch at the far side of the large room. You take in your surroundings as you cross the space - similarly furnished to the rest of the apartment. The furniture is sleek and modern, Kaws sculptures and collectible figurines occupy tables and shelves. There are a few live plants, including one hanging from a large hook in the ceiling near a massive, raised canopy bed.

     He draws you to sit beside him, a crease still pinched between his brows, likely from having to evict the irksome intruders. You laugh softly and run a thumb over his forehead.

     "They're gone!" you chuckle, "Don't let it bother you so much. You'll get wrinkles." You tease, and his face softens.

     He catches your hand in both of his as it lowers. He sighs.

     "I needed a bit of water thrown in my face anyway," he smirks, and you glance down bashfully. "Before anything really happens, I think we should have…a conversation." 

     You nod in agreement.

     "Can I start?" you interject and he nods in return.

     You huff out a long breath.

     "I want to apologize for how I reacted...last time."

     He smiles wryly.

     "It was all very new and sudden to me, and...I don't know...I freaked out."

     Hobi squeezes your hand.

     "You have no reason to be sorry about that. I should have never initiated like that somewhere that wasn't really private. I just got caught up..." he shakes his head.

     "No! Me too! I'm glad it happened. I..." you trail off, feeling your face heat. "Oh, fuck, I don't know how to say this..."

     He claims he's not a patient man, but he waits, watching with tender eyes as you choose your words.

     "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...like..." you take a deep breath as you gather the courage for vulnerable transparency.

     You remember what Jimin said. It's Hobi. You are safe with Hobi.

     "It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Like a release...more than sexual, you know? Like, freedom. Like, I felt so alive."

     He smiles, nodding his head in understanding.

     "I..." you continue, still nervous but with mounting confidence as he makes you feel heard, "I would like to...explore this part of myself, this new world," you gesture, "And...well, I would love for you to be the one to guide me."

     You raise your gaze to his. His eyes are shimmering. He slowly raises a hand and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

     "It would be my honor," he murmurs earnestly.

     A smile blooms across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You raise your hand, curling your fingers into his where they rest against your jaw. He drops your hands, still holding on, to his knee.

     "Can I ask how much you know about the community?" he queries, tracing his thumb softly over your knuckles.

     "A lot more now than I did a couple of weeks ago!" you respond with a laugh. "I know that I'm a sub, but one that likes to...fight back a little bit?"

     Hobi smirks, pocketing his tongue in his cheek. His eyes glint.

     "A brat," he answers. 

     "...Yeah."

     "Want me to work for it."

     Your mouth quirks up in a grin.

     "The harder the challenge the bigger the payoff," he hums, glancing thoughtfully down at your joined hands.

     "I think," he says after a pause, "Since you're new to all this, we should start slow. I already know some things you enjoy, and vice versa. But part of this kind of thing is about testing your limits. You're going to come across things you don't like, too. I need you to be able to tell me. Without a second thought. Seriously."

     He looks at you intently.

     You smile.

     "I trust you enough to know that you’d stop if that’s what I wanted. I may enjoy being dominated but I do still know what I want. And with you...I..." You tug at his hand, "I know I could say what I...need.”

     He huffs out a little breath, his brows drawing together as he regards you in reverence.

     "You know you can be that way with me too, right? Needy?" You ask softly. "I want...to take care of you, that way. Maybe we can...take care of each other." 

     You're not looking at him. You can't. It's all incredibly intimate and strange. When he doesn't respond, you begin to wonder if you said something you shouldn't have. And then your doubts vanish as quickly as they had appeared when you feel his arm slip around your shoulders as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin.

     Your heart sings.

     After a long, quiet moment, Hobi pulls back to look at you. 

     "Should we set some rules for ourselves?" he asks.

     You purse your lips and nod. Admittedly, you had come with a few in mind.

     "I think...we shouldn't kiss. Well, not on the mouth. It's...I don't know. I think it might make things confusing."

     Hobi looks thoughtful, nodding slowly.

     "Which brings me to my other thought," you chew your lip. "I think this should just be about sex. We're friends, and I want to keep that aspect of our relationship strong and uncompromised."

     He smiles. 

     "Makes sense to me. But..." he says with a raise of his brows, "If we do start seeing other people, I think we should tell each other. Especially if they're going to be people we're fooling around with."

     You give an enthusiastic hum of assent.

“I don’t have a partner at the moment,” you shake your head, glancing up at him.

“Me neither.”

He clears his throat and shifts his stance.

“When we’re…together,” he gestures in the space between you. “What about protection?”

You blink thoughtfully.

“I’m on birth control.”

He nods.

“Okay…would you want me to wear a condom?”

You feel heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you wanted you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his own head.

“Ay, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

     "Oh! And we already have a safeword!” you remind him with a grin.

     "We do," he acknowledges, his eyes dropping to the glinting metallic ring adorning your throat.

     Your smile falters and your heartbeat quickens…and when he looks back up at you it's like whiplash as he sets you reeling again with a dark, hungry gaze.

     "If that thing isn't a necklace," he rasps, reaching his fingers up to touch the cold silver, "How about we put it to its proper use, hm?" 

     You shiver, pressing your thighs together as your heartbeat drops to your clit.

     "Yeah..." you whisper, your breath already starting to come quicker as you reach for your bag and fumble with trembling fingers with the clasp. 

     Hoseok's brow knits as he watches you open the purse, reaching in to produce a length of light chain about three feet long with a velvet strap on one and a claw clasp on the other. You double it up and dangle it from your hand, your heart thrumming in your chest as you raise your eyes to his.

     "You can put it on me," you purr, "...But you'll have to take it from me first."

     Click.

     That ineffable thing, that invisible force he wields that arrests you has slipped back into place. You can feel it, pouring off him in devastating waves...and you're already starting to drown.

     It didn't take him long to wrestle the leash from your grasp. Now you're on your knees before him, hands at your sides as he leans forward to affix the chain to the o-ring at your neck. You're breathing hard from your struggle. He stands to his full height, wrapping the links around his hand until the line is taught. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

    "What am I going to do with you now, hm?" he murmurs, tugging at the chain briefly so that you lurch slightly forward. You whine complaintively.

     "Quiet," he hisses in warning. 

     You bite your lip. You need to obey now. Your panties are soaked and you can feel the turgid swell of your clit with every slight motion of your body. If you are good for him, then maybe you will be rewarded. Being a good girl should earn something. Right now, you will take anything.

     Hoseok glowers down at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trail over your features, coming to rest on your pouted lips. He wets his own.

     "You like to run that mouth of yours...how about we see what else it can do?"

     Holy fucking shit. You feel saliva begin to pool under your tongue, your eyes flicking down to the bulge at the front of his slacks. You start to raise your hands toward his belt but he yanks sharply upward on the chain, the metal ring biting into the underside of your jaw, ripping a mewl of discomfort and impatience from your lips.

     He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as his lips curve into a cruel smile.

     "So eager that she can't even wait for permission?"

     You whimper again, biting your lip as he laughs darkly above you.

     "My little whore wants something, doesn't she?"

     You give a silent nod, letting your tongue slip out to wet your lips and watch his eyes darken as his pupils swallow his deep brown irises.

     "Mmm..." He hums in consideration, bringing his free hand to cradle your chin. "I've told you before, sweet thing, if you want something, you have to ask for it."

     Your eyes blink languidly as you look up at him. Your head is swimming as you sway on your knees, the dizzy helplessness of being spun between degradation and endearment hanging over you like a heavy trance. His fingers tighten around your jaw.

     "Come on..." he coaxes in a chilly whisper, "Use that pretty mouth to ask Hoseok."

     You swallow thickly.

    "Wan..." you start softly, but his grip on your jaw sharpens.

     "Speak up, I can't hear you," he commands reproachfully.

     Heat swells up from your neck and sweat begins to tickle your hairline. You know what you want, you've been thinking about little else since he was pressed against you on the dance floor...but the thought of giving your filthy, aching desires shape has every inch of your body trembling.

    "Wan...want..." you struggle over his fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks. 

     He tuts, and the look on his stony features suddenly warns you that if you don't overcome your nerves...

     "Wan' your cock!" you choke out desperately.

     Hoseok's lids dip slowly and his lips part, as if your words have been injected into his veins, and you think you could fucking cum at the sight. His eyes flutter open again and he gazes down. You fight for patience and composure with each maddening second of silence that passes. You can feel your pussy clench and your hands follow suit. Hoseok catches the motion. A sickening grin spreads over his lips.

     "Want this cock, hm?" he hums, releasing your chin from his grasp to palm over the clothed swell inches from your lips.

     You whimper pathetically, letting your eyes slip shut. Fuck you want him. You want your mouth around him. You want to choke on him. You want the thick, sticky milk of his release on your tongue.

     "So tell me, brat," he hisses, wrapping another loop of chain around his palm so that he holds you on a mere few inches of leash. "How do you want my cock?"

     Any shame has been dispelled from your being in the presence of your burning desire, and you raise heavy, lustful eyes to his dark ones.

     "Wanna suck it off."

     You can see his chest beginning to rise and fall with more effort as he pulls you by the leash, in tortuously slow deliberation, until your lips are ghosting over the zipper of his slacks. He glares down at you, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sneer as he holds you in place.

     "BEG."

     A violent tremor of arousal jolts through your abdomen and you gasp.

    "P-please..." you stammer dumbly against the soft, dark cotton.

     "Again."

     "Please..."

     "Please, what?" 

     "Please..." you breath shakily, "Will you fuck my mouth?"

     You feel him twitch under the vibration of your supplicating words. 

     "Alright," he relents in a rasp, "But keep those hands at your sides, understand?”

You nod.

“Unless,” he tugs at the chain again,”You need to stop. Then you grab my leg and squeeze.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do, baby? If you need me to stop?”

“Squeeze your leg.”

“That’s right,” he hums and the repeated instruction.

     You chew on your lip as he pulls off his belt and slips open the button, giving a tug at your collar. As you look up at his hooded eyes, you know exactly what to do.

     You nose at the seam, trying for one moment to ignore the throbbing bulge against your cheek as you find the zipper with your teeth and drag it slowly downward, your eyes never breaking his burning gaze. 

     "Good girl," he hisses, pushing his pants down his hips to reveal a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, a sizable strain pulling at the flexible fabric where he's hard beneath them.

He hooks two thumbs into the elastic and tugs down, his fully erect cock springing free to bob against the side of your face. A sticky streak of precum smears across your cheek as you seek his head with your lips, barely having time to register the smooth tip, or the pretty, pulsating veins as you rush to swallow him whole.

    Hoseok lets out a long, deep groan as you suckle greedily around him. Allowing your spit to slick his shaft you pull back, keeping just the crown between your lips as you worry your tongue along his dripping slit.

     He's rock hard and heavy on your tongue as you lean in to take him farther down your throat, bunching your hands into your dress at the aching urge to cup and stroke the velvet skin of his scrotum.

     "Fuck," he grits out from between clenched teeth, "That's right..."

     You bob lower and lower on his shaft, seeking to take as much of him as you are able. When you feel his tip brush the back of your throat, you moan around him. His free hand flies into your hair, and suddenly he's yanking you off of him. You cough and splutter at the sudden motion and he tugs the chain so that you raise watery eyes to him. He releases your hair to absently stroke himself as he lightly pants over you.

     "Asked me to fuck that throat. Think you can take it?"

     You nod as you attempt to wipe drool pooling on your chin into your shoulder.

     "Words," he pushes, snapping the chain around his wrist.

     "Yeah," you mock, matching his tone, a spark of defiance reigniting inside you.

     Hoseok lets out a hollow laugh.

     "So confident. We'll see about that."

     He slips two fingers of his free hand into the strap of your collar and tugs you back toward his cock. You open wide, extending your tongue to catch the head and pull him between your lips.

You move to swallow him again, but he halts you.

     "Keep still," he mutters coldly, and the fingers at your collar hold you tightly in place as he slowly slides his hips forward in a thrust that has him inching toward your soft palate.

Your eyes water, but you have never been more determined to fight your gag reflex as he pulls back and pushes in again, deeper, his cock tapping again at the back of your throat.

     "Goddamn, you really can take it," he groans in a shaky voice. "Such a good little slut for Hoseok. Such a pretty, filthy little mouth."

     Your nostrils flare as you draw air through your nose, and you swallow, the muscle of your throat contracting tightly around him. At this he seems to break, suddenly pulling back his hips to snap them forward as he sets a rough, self-indulgent pace.

     Your eyes water, spilling over from the brutal stretch and sting, but you dig your fingers into your thighs, determined to take him as long as you possibly can.

     You start to feel light-headed, and just when you think you're going to have to tap out for air, Hoseok's pulling you off of him and wrenching your face upwards to run his wild eyes over it.

    You gasp for breath a moment, and then you're opening your mouth to him again, blinking up through bleary eyes in a silent, hungry plea. He shakes his head slowly as he gazes down at you, chest heaving.

     "Shit, look at you..."

     You're a site. Tears and mascara streak your cheeks, saliva and precum slick your chin and neck, your parted lips swollen. Hoseok's fingers twist where they're still hooked into the collar. 

     "You still want it, don't you? My god..." he smears the tip of his cock along your bottom lip.

Your eager tongue wriggles forward to brush over him again. He swallows, and with a growl he slaps his cock down harshly over it. You let out a little sob as your soaking, aching cunt clenches around nothing. 

     "Alright," he mutters in a husky whisper, "Gonna fucking ruin that tight little throat. Gonna fill it the fuck up. Blow my load all over that nasty little tongue. And you want that, don't you? Wanna be Hoseok's pretty little cumslut, hm?" 

     You nod, and then remember the rules.

     "Yes," you croak, and open wide for him again.

     He grits his teeth and tugs at the collar to pull you slowly over him again with a shudder. You've proven more than capable and it's not long before he's chasing release at a punishing pace. It's sloppy and desperate - the hollow, wet sounds as he fucks your face a pornographic symphony. 

Suddenly you think you can feel his cock twitch and jerk as it hammers into your mouth, and when he grows so incredibly hard, you know he's about to reach his peak.

     You lock eyes with him through your tears, watching his features strain to maintain their composure. Without warning he grabs the back of your head and slams into you, arching over as he cries out.

     And he cums.

     Thick ropes spurt down your throat as he quivers and throbs.

     The moment he's spent his last drop of release he fists into your hair and roughly pulls you back, letting his softening cock fall free. You gasp for breath, coughing as you choke down the last remnants of his seed. Lips trembling, your eyes search his face for what you so desperately need...and you find it.

     His lids are heavy over his eyes, mere glistening slips of midnight visible as they gleam down at you; his beautiful lips are parted as he pants, the honey planes of chest glistening with sweat where his shirt fails to obscure it.

     He's breathless and sated and glorious, and you bask under the intensity of his gaze. He releases his hold on your collar and lets the leash clatter to the ground, bringing his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the streaks of tears.

     "So, fucking good for me," he mutters shakily, his brow drawn, "Such a pretty, perfect little brat." 

     Your eyes slip shut under his words of praise. You could move mountains if he asked you to, you were certain. In this moment, in this space, anything for this man. Everything.   

     You feel his hands leave your face as he moves to help you stand, before tugging his briefs back into place. 

The heat of the moment past, you become acutely aware of the stinging soreness in your knees as you struggle to your feet – and the sticky ache of persistent hunger throbbing between your thighs. You teeter on your heels as blood rushes to your lower legs.

Smiling, he reaches out and pulls you to him gently by the waist, swiping a thumb over your chin.

     "You were a good girl, baby. So, so good," He coos in a husky whisper. "You remember what good girls get, hm?" He's still calling the shots and demanding answers, but his eyes are soft as they regard you.

     "A reward?" you answer hopefully.

     He hums in assent.

     "That's right, baby. That's right," He brushes at the smeared makeup under your eye. "But let's get that messy little face cleaned up first." 

     After unfastening your collar he sits you down on the bed, bringing makeup wipes to gently dab away the proof of your efforts, and offers you a bottle of cool water. He comes to sit beside you, eyes tracking you attentively as you drink.

     "Want Hoseok to take care of that needy little pussy?" he asks, with a smirk.

     "Fuck yes," you breath as you lower the bottle from your mouth.

     He arches a brow, and you purse your lips in an attempt not to grin.

     "Please," you add in correction.

     "Mmm," he acknowledges thoughtfully, turning to gaze over his shoulder at the spider plant hanging from the ceiling a few feet past the other side of the bed.

     "Does my little girl want to try something new?" he asks, his eyes still on the suspended planter.

     You feel your pulse quicken and stomach twist in anticipation.

     "Yes, Hoseok, I trust you," you respond without reserve.

     He flicks his eyes to your face, brows drawing together. He wets his lips and huffs out a breathy laugh.

     "You have no goddamned idea what you do to me when you say shit like that."

     You look away, smiling brightly as you preen under the heat and affection of his gaze.

     He reaches for your hand and guides you to rise to your feet.

     "Alright, ditch the dress," he orders, gesturing with a flick of his chin as he leans back on his hands and spreads his thighs in a posture of recline.

     You step back to give yourself space, already weak in the knees at the prospect of stripping for him. You steel your composure, a spark of boldness lighting in your belly. Taking a few steps away and turning from him, you look back over your shoulder to watch his face as you reach behind to slowly drag the zipper down your back. You make a slow, sensual show of peeling the garment from your body to reveal a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong. Stepping out of the dress and tossing it away, in nothing but your lingerie and stilettos, you stride back to stand patiently before him.

     He leans forward and runs his hands up the sides of your thighs until they reach your hips where they slide back to squeeze the meat of your ass.

You bring your hands gingerly to his shoulders. 

Tugging your body toward him, he draws himself to the edge of the mattress, pulling you between his thighs as he uses his sharp, white teeth to nip along the soft flesh of your belly. He sucks harshly at some places, leaving flushed little souvenirs of claim in his wake. You don't hold back the proof of your pleasure - repaying his ministrations with gasps and low moans as his hands and mouth explore you.

     Hoseok raises his face from your skin, his pupils wide as his gaze settles at your breasts. 

"Bra off," he commands, squeezing your ass again as you reach back to unfasten the clasp and pull the straps from your arms.

     He hisses and grits his teeth, raising greedy hands to knead at your supple flesh, before pulling them away to twist and slap at your nipples. 

You groan and throw your head back, relishing in the shocks of sensation – gushing, as if you could ruin your soaked panties any further. As you press your trembling thighs together he glances down at the last remaining vestige of your modesty, lips spreading into a wicked grin.

     "You know I can fucking smell it - how wet you are? My god, want you to wear it like a perfume, fuck..." He runs his right hand to rub against the dampness that has the lace clinging to your slit.

     The moan you let out is so needy it's practically a sob. Hoseok laughs low in his chest.

     Suddenly he’s standing and spinning you around, leading you to the end of the bed. He places your hands on the footboard and instructs you to bend over, sliding your hips back until your ass is on full display. He runs his hands over the bare flesh of your cheeks.

    "Now," he growls, "Can't fuck this ass until it's properly marked, can we?"

     You swallow and let out a whine. The blood is already rushing to your head in a familiar surge and in the split second of silence before impact, you know what's coming - the anticipation somehow even more intoxicating when you remember how it feels when he...

     Smack!

     You whimper, your fingers gripping the bed frame as he delivers blow after searing blow. When he has satisfied himself with the flushed tone streaking the globes of your ass, he gives it a final squeeze, commanding you to wait where you are.

     You hear him as he moves to the side of the bed to pull an object from beneath it. He seems to be grappling with something - the clink of metal and soft rustle of leather interrupting the sudden heavy hush. He returns to your side, taking your hands from the bed and bringing you to stand. As he leads you to the far side of the bed, you see it: hanging from the large hook in the ceiling that once bore the spider plant there is a large leather contraption. You've never seen one in real life, but you know what it is.

     "You have a sex swing?" you murmur in awe, momentarily forgetting yourself as you reach out to brush your fingers over the soft leather. There are buckle straps at different places and a metal bar running across the top. He lightly grips your waist, turning you to face him again. He dips his head forward and you inhale the cool mint of his breath.

     "Gonna put you in it," he murmurs, "You remember our word, right?"

     "Yes," you breathe.

“Say it.”

“Foxglove.”

He smirks.

     "Good girl. Panties off," he instructs.

     You couldn't be more eager to pull the sopping fabric down your legs and toss it aside, but when you reach to remove your shoes, he catches your wrist.

     "I didn't say you could take those off, did I?" he reprimands, and your pulse begins to hammer in your throat.

     He’s gonna fucking strap you to this thing in your goddamned heels.

     You comply with him as he helps you into the seat, fastening your wrists together to a strap that has them raised above your head. After securing your hands, he raises your legs, carefully stretching them so that your feet are on the outside of the wide set cables, hooking your heels to catch on the bar across the top to hold your legs, spread wide, in place. With each restriction he checks in, making sure you’re completely comfortable with his choices. 

When he finishes he comes to stand before you, heaving out a sigh through his nose as he trails a hand down the back of your thigh.

     "Look at you," he groans as his eyes rake over your body.

     You can feel your pussy leaking. Your heart pounds. The muscles in your legs strain a bit from the stretch and the bindings nip into your wrists and feet. You are completely exposed to him...and it is utter perfection. Like you were made to be at his mercy. You blink up at him through the fuzzy haze that keeps intensifying as you relinquish yourself deeper and deeper into his control.

     His eyes slip shut for a moment and he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before bringing his lips to graze against the back of your calf.

     "Hoseok..." you whisper, trembling. 

     His eyes open and lock with yours. You hold each other's gaze in silence. 

Nothing needs to be said - you both know. You both understand.

     He unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, and after discarding his briefs he is as naked as you are. With one hand he grips your leg, slipping two fingers of the other to slide through the swollen, sticky folds of your cunt. You cry out, your pelvis shuddering - so ripe to be touched that the contact sends a shock like an electric pulse through your being. 

     "What a pretty fucking pussy...so desperate for me," he mutters.

     You watch his beautiful fingers as they slip through your glistening lips and over your throbbing clit before he pulls his hand up. He lets it hover in the air for a moment before bringing it down with a harsh smack against your mound. 

A scream strangles in your throat as he repeats the motion again. Your whole body shakes with arousal. 

He clenches his jaw as he trails his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping in shallowly to gather your bountiful slick. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting you as he watches you tremble beneath him. He withdraws them with a pop.

     "You know how much you like that? Getting this little cunt slapped?" His eyes trail down. "You're dripping down your fucking ass."

     Shuddering violently, you whimper, tugging impatiently at your restraints.

     "Yah," he warns, and you still. "Guess you're ready for me, huh? Just like that day..." He smirks condescendingly. "You're always ready, aren't you?" He hisses. "Need me so fucking badly...all of the time."

     You sob as your walls contract again and again. He takes his cock into his hand and slides it through your folds, teasing the tip over your clit.

     It's euphoric, but it's not enough. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you fight your own desperate need until the copper taste of blood seeps across your tongue. Somehow, it doesn't even hurt – you can't feel anything past the need for him to fill you. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you gasp.

     “Look at me," he rasps.

     Your eyes snap open. Your legs are shaking, vibrating the entire apparatus as he finally, slowly, sinks into your wet heat. The stretch of him is exquisite, and your eyes roll back in your head as he groans, steadily pulling back to push into you again.

“Shiiiiiitttt…” he hisses through his teeth, “Fucking made for me. Does my little brat like that? Hoseok’s cock stuffing that tight little cunt?”

“M-more…p-please…” you mewl, nearly unable to even form the words as his ridges drag deliciously along your taught walls.

     You're so incredibly worked up that already you can feel a climax building in your belly, and he's only just started to fuck you. Unable to touch him any other way, you squeeze around him tightly.

     He lets out a grunt, picking up his pace as he uses the mobility of the swing to pound you onto his cock. 

You cry out, your head rattling against the leather as stroke after stroke sends you hurtling toward your high. Your mouth hangs open, and your vision begins to blur at the edges, the position of your arms making it harder to breathe. It’s going put you over the edge. He catches your glazed stare.

     "Don't you fucking cum until I say," he grits out breathlessly, and you let out a wail, head falling back. 

     You can feel yourself barely holding on as he slams into you, teetering on the edge as you hear his voice.

     "Whose little whore are you?"

     You try to speak but the words won't rattle out of your chest.

     "Whose?" he booms.

     "Yours!" you press out in a sob.

     "Who do you kneel for?"

     "You!" 

     "Who owns this pussy?"

     "Y-you!"

     "And who the fuck am I?"

     "HOSEOK!"

     "Cum, slut." he growls.

...And you free-fall through time and space.

     The summer evening air is warm against your skin as you step out under the rose gold twilight. Behind you the chic dining venue is still abustle, and you wave coworkers a fond farewell as they head off to continue the evening with karaoke. It's been a big day for you, and there's someone you've been waiting to talk to.

     You press the green call button and wait as the line rings.

     "Yeoboseyo?" 

     The warm voice on the other end has a smile blooming on your lips.

     "Hey, Hobi-ssi!" you hum.

     "Hey hey!" he chrips, "What's up?"

     "Oh, nothing," you respond casually, "Just got done with a company dinner. Someone got a promotion, so we all went out."

     There's a pause on the other end.

     "Oh," answers slowly, "That one you put in for?"

     "Mhm."

     You hear him scoff in amusement

     "Well, at least you seem to be taking it well."

     "I'd say I'm taking it extremely well, which is only natural, considering I got the job."

     "Yes, well...wait, YOU WHAT?!"

     You pull the phone momentarily away from your ear as his joyful, raucous laughter blasts through the speaker.

     "You're gonna make me go deaf!" You chide. Your smile is brighter than the setting sun.

     "I'm so proud of you."

     "Thanks, Hobi."

     "You should celebrate!"

     "I did go out with my work friends...but..."

    "You should come over," he interjects.

  The register of his voice has changed. You recognize the new one.

     "Yeah?" you swallow, as your heart rate quickens. "Well...what if I do want to go to karaoke?"

     You wait for his response, watching your ride share pull up to the curb.

     "Yah - you gonna be a good girl…”

     You hold your breath.

     “...Or do I have to make you?"

-FIN-

[c0llisiion]

DAY 4 — HOSEOK

★ npr, f!reader, dubcon, intoxicated!reader, ceo!jh, fingering— lmk if i missed any!; W/C: 625

Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day4 is officially out <3

This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.

[ visuals <3 (18+!) ]

You didn’t know what was going on. Your mind was elsewhere. Blown. Hazy. One thing you know is you were drinking your 4th shot of tequila, and the next thing is you feel slender, long fingers rubbing your pussy, seemingly in the oh so familiar room of your bosses. You could feel a hot breath against you, murmuring words that you weren’t able to register; all you could feel was his fingers slowly teasing your hole. 

You threw your head back as the desire started coursing through your veins. “Yeah… just like that… relax for me…” he said softly. You gulped, feeling yourself get hotter and wetter as he continued venturing into your pussy. “Mmm… I always wanted to do this yk..?” He said with a dark chuckle. You turned your head towards the voice, and your eyes went wide at the sight that beheld you. Your own boss. Hoseok immediately catches the fact that you noticed him and plunges his fingers in your pussy, earning a soft whine from you. Your back arched off his chest, and your hand lazily held onto his wrist as his ring and middle finger immediately curled into your sopping wet pussy. You whine and whimper. “Shhh… its alright… i got you… i got you alright? Just relax for me… let me play with you for sometime, okay?” He reassured you. You were still dazed, the alcohol still in your system, and you were completely at his mercy. You did as he said and relaxed into his touches, having no other way out of this. Hoseok smirked and placed a kiss on your bare shoulders. “Yeah thats it baby… I'm going to take good care of you… gonna make you feel so good…” he said while placing wet kisses up your neck and down your shoulder. His fingers drove in and out of your pussy, loud squelches and wet sounds bounced off the office room walls, curling into your sweet spot and making you squirm and moan out in pleasure. His thumb found your neglected clit before pressing down on your hard nub, all while watching your reactions to his ministrations. “Feels good, doesn’t it? I can feel your tight little puss clenching around my fingers..” he said lowly. Your mind was hazy with pleasure and intoxication. Your hips moved involuntarily against his fingers. Hoseok chuckled, “Eager, aren’t we?” His other hand trailed up your body and cupped your tender tits, pulling down the fabric of your top. He tugged and played with your nipples, making you whine and whimper, pussy getting wetter and wetter. “So soft… fuck you’re addicting…” He pressed harder against your clit, drawing rough circles on the sensitive bud using his thumb, making you reach climax. Hoseok's fingers worked faster against your cunny, his pace becoming faster. Your breath got labored at his sudden increase in speed, hoseok breathing heavily behind you as well. “Fuckkkk… your pussy is so warm baby.. taking in my fingers so well..” He pulled out and slapped your cunt before drilling his fingers back in. You cried out as the pleasure got more intense, thighs trembling and body convulsing. Hoseok slapped your tits harshly, making you groan and whimper. He could feel your walls clench around him, signaling that you were close. He pushed his fingers further in you and curled into your walls at an inhumane pace. Your mouth dropped to an ‘o’ shape, and you could feel the knot in your stomach seeking release. “Fuckkkkk!!!” With a loud curse, you squirted all over hoseoks carpet, the gray color now a darker grey. He smirked and pulled his fingers out, gently laying you against the sofa. 

He got up and settled himself in between your legs. “get ready for more, princess…” 

A/N: day4 is out!!! Tysm for reading everyone <333 please excuse if this was rusty it was my first time writing dubcon 😭💔

Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr

If you want to be part of the taglist, comment below!! ^^

[7waystreet]

dirty confessions | jung hoseok

This BTS 18+ explicit series will include 7 diary entries (one from each of the bangtan boys) confessing to the dirty thoughts they have about (y/n) and the sinful sexual acts they've part taken in during their lives.

I kindly ask the reader to start with pt.1 and end with pt.7 since it's a series and will contain overlapping scenarios and characters ♡

✬ foreword pt. 1 — seokjin pt. 2 — yoongi pt. 3 — namjoon pt. 4 — hoseok pt. 5 — jimin pt. 6 — taehyung pt. 7 — jungkook

pt. 4 — hoseok

Dear diary (^.^)

I have a confession to make. I fucked Yoongi hyung's new gf (y/n) so good, she squirted a fountain out her pussy while he was sleeping in a tent right next to us~~~ (˘◡˘)

I never thought it would all start out with (y/n) catching a glimpse of my dick when I struggled to take a piss in the dark during our hyung line camping trip. Well, I should say rap line camping trip bcuz Namjoonie kicked Jin hyung out last min for fucking his little sister.

Shit. I was already terrified of being in the woods all by myself, but I got totally scared out my wits when I heard (y/n) sniffling alone like a ghost next to the tree I peed under, my hands scrambling to zip up my pants after I saw her openly staring down at my tip with reddening cheeks. Little did she know the same massive cock would make a stream gush out her pussy later too.

The thought of raising her leg up and pounding her roughly against the tree in the late hours of the night did cross my mind as I approached her sobbing figure, but I had to force those sinful thoughts out of my head while I gently rubbed her shoulder and asked her if she was okay. The overwhelming desire to slip my fingers into her panties and slowly rub her clit to soothe her even more started to make my hands shiver... but what she said out her pretty lips next suddenly made an irrational anger flare up in my gut.

"I don't think Yoongi finds me attractive. He... he never seems to want to get intimate with me."

Shit, if (y/n) was my girlfriend, I would fuck her fine ass all day and all night long until she saw real stars herself... certainly more satisfying than seeing the ones shining in the night sky above us in that very moment. Shit, the amount of stamina I've developed from dancing for years even scares me sometimes... the way I could be thrusting into her for hours... but what the hell was I supposed to tell her? That Yoongi hyung probably doesn't have time for her bcuz he cheats and stays busy fucking the thirsty hoes that line up for him outside his studio everyday? I couldn't break her innocent little heart like that... but I could comfort her with a hug, right? ('･_･')

What started off with my arm tenderly curling around her shoulder led to her getting closer and nuzzling her head into my chest, the way her quiet sighs of breath warmed the skin on my neck making me want to tear her clothes off and enter all of her holes one by one. I eased my way in though, the head pats I was giving her slowly shifting to a relaxing head massage with my fingers running through her soft hair, and she didn't even flinch when I pressed a fluffy peck on her forehead to calm down her tears. If only she could do something in return to calm down my raging boner that was now shamelessly poking into her belly while she hugged me tighter than ever...

All I could think of when (y/n) looked up at me with glistening eyes was the night I'd caught my ex bitch and Yoongi hyung fucking like mad dogs in my own living room... my eyes had shimmered with tears the same exact way after witnessing hyung betraying me so badly (ㅠ﹏ㅠ). My heart had broken into a million tiny pieces and I'd then gone deep diving into any pussy I could find just to heal my hurt, but it quickly got boring and I was worried I might get an STD from the number of cunts I pounded through by the end of my hot streak.

(y/n) was a different case though, and maybe I'm no better than Yoongi hyung, but nothing else mattered when she pleadingly asked me if I thought she was attractive, the only way I could answer being with a kiss on her lips. She seemed a bit taken aback by my move, although she still remained comfortably snuggled in my embrace, her shiny lips slightly quivering when she mumbled those three beautiful words every guy wants to hear. "I'm a virgin."

What better high could even exist than avenging my mistreatment by claiming (y/n)'s tight virgin pussy all for myself before Yoongi hyung could even get there?

It was a piece of cake bringing her into my tent, the way I kept assuring her with my sweet words that I'd be gentle with her making her relax right into my sleeping bag and warm blankets. There's no denying I'm a master at this game of silent seduction, and watching her melt and unfold underneath my touch was the affirmation I needed to pleasure her further into a squirting orgasm, that too the very first time she was having sex.

Shit, I'm getting hard writing this down and remembering that wonderful night... how I'd started off by kissing her neck while we laid down together wrapped in the sheets, my palms simultaneously running along her sides to really get a feel of her perfect curves. She began to tremble the more my hands got lower, but I soothingly coaxed her by assuring her I'd stop if she ever felt uncomfortable, and I of course would've bcuz I'd never force myself onto anyone. She loosened up soon enough though, her cute hands naturally finding their way onto my body to touch my back, a sharp gasp parting her lips when she finally groped my rock solid boner through my pants.

It was adorable how she shyly admitted not knowing exactly what to do next, my hand then guiding hers to slide inside my boxers so she could feel the warmth of my throbbing length. She bit her lip when the tips of her fingers felt my foreskin, her palm slowly wrapping around my girth and moving up and down in a stroking motion to understand my proportions. "I'm scared" she whispered and I felt my ego swell up with pride, the want to experience her untouched walls swallowing me up driving me crazier by the second.

Taking all of our clothes off got us both in the mood even more, and I reminded her not to be loud before I began touching her myself, the soft whimpers leaving her mouth like a melody to my ears when I kept grazing my fingers on her folds. I rubbed and teased her clit so good that she got soaking in no time, her mental strength impressing me as she continued massaging my cock despite her legs flailing when I started fingering her hole to stretch her out. I had to keep kissing her to muffle out her intensifying moans, my tongue slipping into her mouth and tugging with hers as our breaths began to get cut off from the rising heat within our bodies.

The best part was hearing Yoongi hyung snoring from the tent right next to us while I got on top of (y/n), the look of anticipation mixed in with excitement on her gorgeous face still freshly engraved in my mind. She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes when I gradually pushed the tip of my pulsing cock against her folds, easily inching my way into her dripping pussy within a few seconds. Holy shit... I might've lost count of how many girls I've fucked over the years, but I can surely confirm nothing beats (y/n)'s cunt. The pleasure was immeasurable to say the least, the tense feel of her clenching around my length as I nestled deep inside her core something I want to experience more than once in this life. And I'm guaranteed going to get it again seeing just how good I made her feel just within a few short minutes... she'll come back for more.

(y/n) locked into my eyes while I fucked her hard in the g-spot, which was the hottest thing ever, her brows tensing up in a furrow and the veins on her neck popping out when she dug her head back into the sleeping bag from the devastating arousal. I could feel the pressure building up inside her since she constricted her muscles to prepare for the approaching orgasm, a scare flooding my system as my palm dashed to push against her mouth a few seconds after she had screamed out loud from her release.

My cock slithered out of her just in time to watch her squirt like a good little girl, the clear stream of liquid bursting out of her pussy like a fountain, which soaked into the blankets and created a big wet stain. She was so overwhelmed that she appeared as if she was going to pass out from the embarrassment of it all, but I kept kissing and coaxing her to let her know everything was okay and it was beyond sexy if anything. I had to distract her from frenzying on by sticking my dick into her once again, which hushed her up right away, the desperate need to cum myself while pushing (y/n) into a second orgasm now the focus of my very attention, which was both successfully achieved soon enough.

Let's just say the sleeping bag and sheets got so wet from our own cum that I could no longer sleep in them, both me and (y/n) entering Yoongi hyung's tent after doing the unholy deed and sleeping on either side of him to end the night was a bang.

Hyung, if you're reading this, the revenge of getting back at you was no doubt sweet... but pounding (y/n)'s virgin pussy was much sweeter (^_-).

a/n ♡

i imagined the exact opposite storyline for hoseok, where an innocent (y/n) is seduced by his warmth and sweetness vs. yoongi's experience in his confession. hoseok is absolutely aware of all of his strengths and perfectly uses them to fuck (y/n) and get his revenge

— him writing cutie emojis to mimic his own expressions

— him being a scaredy cat (afraid of the woods, thinking y/n is a ghost, his own stamina scaring him, y/n's screams inducing a scare)

— him writing "shit" often like he says out loud irl

— his irl ability to stay on task and have immense self control which the members often praise him for (eases y/n into things and is able to guide her forward slowly despite his deep desire to fuck her)

[dumpywrites]

Random BTS story prompts (Request open!)

a/n: seeing the positive feedbacks from my prev writings, I decided to write more and I want your involvement! <3

Request away with a number and a member name!

Strikethrough/crossed = prompt is taken

One number per request

Done requests will be linked here!

Requests may take a while as I do write according to what catches my creative flow first. I don’t want to force write any story :)

Bold number with link means it's done!

Fluff

“Tell me your name.” “No.” (Taehyung)

“You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.” (Namjoon)

You kissed someone at the party last night… but who? (Hoseok)

“Do you wanna see my cat?” You’re not actually lying but he thinks it’s a sexual innuendo. (Yoongi)

Costume party comes into disaster when you mistaken your crush as your friend. (Taehyung)

You wake up in a strange alternate universe where everything’s the opposite. (Hoseok)

Sworn enemies by day, restaurant mascot by night.  (Jin)

Your friend arranged you on a date with a BTS member. The catch is, you have to pretend like you’re not a fan.  (Jungkook)

“How does one incite a first kiss?” (Yoongi)

Watching a concert is fun, until you get knocked out by the idol's mic. (Jungkook)

How to make an annoying guy fall to his knees 101. (Jin)

Beauty privilege exists, that's why you're selling your hot best friend. (Jungkook)

"Aren't we done?" (Jungkook)

The classic let's pretend to be a couple for just a while. Nothing bad will happen, right?

Angst/slight angst

“Treat me like yours again for a week before you let me go.” (Yoongi)

He doesn’t love me back but I’m fine with it. (Yoongi)

Your friends locked you together for an hour so you can make up. (Yoongi)

He only comes to sleep with you and you accept because your heart allows you to. (Yoongi)

You both deleted your memories of each other. (Yoongi)

Love and business don't mix, and so do both of you. (Namjoon)

Your husband who you’re about to divorce, lost his memories.  (Hoseok)

“It’s weird but can you please take care of my son while I’m away?” (Taehyung)

“This wouldn’t change our friendship, right?” (Namjoon)

A crippled and a convict, what a mix.

a/n: I will be adding more prompt later if the inspiration strikes! 💜

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Free Use | Jeon Jungkook and Jung Hoseok

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jeon Jungkook x Girlfriend!Reader x Jung Hoseok

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), established relationship

Summary: Jungkook knew that you were his dream girl from the moment he saw you, but when you agreed to be the band's free Use stress toy, he knew he was a goner

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: free use, cumshots, unprotected sex, pet names (pretty), threesome, oral (male receiving), fingering, light overstimulation, praise, homoeroticism lowkey, Jungkook is kinda a simp

A/N: Unedited because, I won't lie, I've been writing and rewriting this for ages and I just keep not being satisfied, so hopefully you guys enjoy it and I'm being overly critical. let me know!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @moonchild0325 // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

When Jungkook met you for the first time, his entire world shifted on its axis. He thought you were the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, and he could have sworn that when you spoke to him it was like music to his ears. But Jungkook didn't believe in love at first sight, he was a big boy now, long past stories of fairytale sorts.

So he took his time, he took you on dates, some elaborate beyond measure, and some mundane as anything, he learned you inside out, top to bottom. The most difficult part, he'd discovered, was letting you learn him back. He wasn't always good at opening up to people, but he found that with every piece of him that you became familiar with, it was easier to give you more.

And Jungkook gave as much as he received in return. He knew within months that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but his fate was sealed completely on a late autumn night. Him and the boys had just gotten back from a particularly long schedule and he was enjoying his night with you over drinks. He knew as well as you did that you were something of a lightweight, the alcohol streaming through you always loosened your tongue and brought out a more relaxed side of you.

But once you were settled on his lap, your mouth inching down his neck, the moment took an unexpected turn. Jungkook gripped your hips as they rolled over his, head tipped back against the couch as he revelled in the feeling of you pressed up against him.

"Missed you so fucking much," You mumbled, nipping at the skin, but hardly enough to leave a mark. "Wish you'd just taken me as soon as you got home. Need you inside so bad, Kook,"

"You were cooking, babe." He laughed breathlessly as your hips rocked over his again.

"Don't care. I'm yours whenever you want me. Don't even have to ask, just fuck me."

So he had fucked you then, and again after that, and maybe a third time in the shower. But it was when you were laying in bed, curled against his side for the first time in ages, that he brought up your words again.

"You mean I could fuck you whenever I want? No matter what?" He asked you. You nodded sleepily against his shoulder.

"Within some pre-discussed limits." You answered. "If you wanted to. But that's not everyone's thing." You answered simply. Jungkook couldn't imagine anyone not wanting practically unrestricted access to their partner at all times, but he figured some people just didn't get it.

The limits discussion came in the morning, long and in depth, paired with safe words and mutual agreements. And after that, many more rounds until the both of you were spent. From that day forward, Jungkook took full advantage of your little kink, and you were happy to let him.

The allowance of his band mates to use you was his idea. He'd seen how stressed and frustrated his hyungs were, and sure it was easy for them to get laid, but it was also stressful to protect themselves as world famous idols if they did. So, he suggested they use you as their stress relief. You were more eager to help them than he'd expected. So another round of discussions came around, time frames when you were at their beck and call. And before you knew it, you were theirs to play with as they pleased.

It was during one of those time frames that Jungkook came home from a schedule, finding you laid out across the couch, legs pressed wide and Hoseok's fingers buried inside of you. When you noticed his presence, you buried your face in your arms, hiding from your lover's hungry gaze. He had already been looking forward to having a little fun with you, but he hadn't expected his hyung to be getting you warmed up by the time he got home.

"Starting without me?" He asked, crouching down beside the couch. Hoseok looked up, grinning at the younger man and continuing to scissor his long digits inside of you.

"Barely. Just got here." He answered. Jungkook reached up, pulling your arms away from your face and leaning down to press his lips to yours.

"Having fun, pretty girl?" He asked. You whined in response, Hobi's fingertips brushing against the spongy spot inside of you and making your hips jerk. "Look at how pretty you are. Always so embarrassed like you're not begging to be used."

His filthy words were still laced with a gentle affection that had your head spinning. Hobi pulled his fingers out of your pussy, pressing them to your lips and watching as you sucked them in. You had only just finished cleaning your arousal off of his fingers when Jungkook was turning your head, moving you so your face was pressed against the bulge in his boxers. You hadn't even noticed him stripping off his pants.

You mouthed at his cock through the fabric, suckling the tip and leaving a dark spot over it, wet with his precum and your saliva. Meanwhile, Hobi moved quickly, stripping his top half, then shoving his pants and underwear off his long legs. You wanted to look, but you couldn't turn your head far enough with Jungkook's hand pressing firmly against your jaw.

"Take it out," Jungkook told you, and you reached up, tugging his boxers down until his aching length was exposed to you. He didn't even have to tell you what to do, just sitting pretty while you wrapped your lips around the tip, tongue dipping against his slit. He grunted quietly, slowly rocking his hips to press his length deeper into your warm mouth.

Hoseok lined himself up with your weeping hole, tapping his cock against your clit and listening to the muffled whines you let out around his friend's dick. He pushed your thighs wider, and you winced at the stretch in your hips, but then he was sinking his cock into you and all thoughts were wiped clear from your mind.

Jungkook stroked your hair, fucking lazily into your mouth and letting you swirl your tongue along the vein running up his dick.

"Look so pretty taking care of us." Jungkook purred, fucking into your mouth deeper until you were gagging around him, spit trailing from the corner of your lips, and as far as he was concerned, it was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen. Nothing compared to watching your body be used to help his friends.

"She clenches on my dick so hard when you gag her like that," Hoseok hissed through clenched teeth, his hips rocking into yours and big hands gripping your hips so tight that there would probably be bruises. "Fuck her throat for me."

Jungkook didn't have to be told twice, holding your head in place and thrusting into your throat like it was his favorite toy. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to breathe with the tip of his dick kissing the back of your throat. He reached down, using his thumb to pry your mouth open a little more, drool and precum leaking down your face. Hoseok sped up, fucking you with deep, hard thrusts in time with Jungkook's hips. The feeling had you on cloud nine.

Your body had gotten used to the feeling of being used by them, but it wasn't often that you took more than one of them at a time, and it was even more rare for them to treat you like a total slut. Your chest was aching for breath when Jungkook finally let up, pulling his dick out of your mouth and allowing you to greedily gulp down air, coughing and spluttering and looking up at him through the tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Make me cum," He told you, bringing your hand up to wrap around his spit-soaked dick. You took over immediately, stroking him as well as you could with Hoseok's thrusts driving you up the couch. Jungkook groaned, feeling his orgasm building at the sight of you going dumb on Hobi's dick.

"Close," You warned, head tipped back as you swirled your thumb around the tip of Jungkook's dick. Every thrust Hobi made was dragging deliciously against your sweet spot, and your legs were trembling around his hips, pulling him in deeper. He reached down, expertly swirling his fingers against your clit and sending you careening into pure bliss.

The sight of you cumming was too much for Jungkook. He wrapped his hand around yours, tightening your grip on his dick and thrusting into it faster until he was spilling his cum onto you, some of it landing on your chest and neck, the rest dripping down your hand and along your wrist.

Hobi bit his bottom lip, fucking you through your orgasm until you were squirming away in overstimulation, then pulling out to jerk his cock a few times, his own cum painting your thighs. You closed your eyes, tired and sensitive, and a little too embarrassed to look at the two of them.

"Get her cleaned up, I'll get water." Hoseok said, standing up and pulling his boxers on. Jungkook still looked a little high off his orgasm and the sight of his beloved girlfriend getting fucked, but he nodded, using his boxers to wipe the cum off his dick and your hand before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Feeling okay, pretty?" He asked, brushing your hair out of your face. You nodded, blinking up at him. "Good, you were so perfect for us. Gonna go grab a towel and get you cleaned up and then you can relax again."

With that promise he was off to the bathroom to wet a rag to clean you up, and you were content to melt into the couch with the two of them pampering you and thanking you for taking care of them. Even if it left you exhausted being the personal stress toy for all seven boys, you wouldn't have turned it down for the world.

copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[hoseokhasmyheartxx]

Package Deal | MYG & JHS

*Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader x Hoseok

*Word Count: 10k 😵‍💫

*Genre: EXPLICIT SMUT, MINORS DNI, let's be honest it's pwp, a bit of fluff, non-idol au, spring break au

*Warnings: *takes deep breath* here we go... mentions of past cheating, alcohol consumption, mentions of past violence, recreational weed use, the boys are a bad influence on mc in more ways than one, boys have to convince mc to participate, piv sex, oral (m., f. receiving), one (1) ass slap, breast/nipple play, it's a 3sum y'all, overstimulation (m., f. receiving), MxM undertones (nothing too explicit but.. there's a bit), cum swallowing (f), cum eating (MxM), use of pet names 'love' and 'baby', dom!Hoseok, switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, protected and unprotected sex (be smart, ya perverts), begging (f, m), mentions of contraception, mc calls Yoongi 'good boy', 'good girl' is used too, mc squirts, aftercare, non-sexual shared showering... i think that's it

*Summary: Years have passed since you graduated high school in your small town. Spring break rolls around, and some familiar faces are back in town. You've always been the town's good girl. Will those familiar faces change that for you?

*A/N: oh boy. guys, this is just absolute filth and i am sorry (but also not). sope smut demons just took over and i dont even know where this shit came from. stay hydrated friends, this one's a doozy! 🤪

Part of btsafterdarknet's the boys are back in town event

Main Masterlist

“There’s a what next weekend?” you asked Soo-ah, reading the social media invite you’d both just received. 

“TEN-YEAR REUNION SPRING BREAK PARTY” flashed on the screen in front of you. Below it, details and RSVP information were spelled out in italics. You groaned, knowing what was coming next.

“Oh! We have to go! Please?!” Soo-ah pleaded. You had done your best to block out the memories of the four years you’d spent in the hell called high school. It hadn’t been particularly torturous, but you were nothing short of ecstatic to leave that place, and the people, behind you when you first entered college. Soo-ah, on the other hand, still regularly saw friends from high school and reminisced on her time there. It didn’t surprise you that she’d want to attend this reunion.

“Seriously? It’s been ten years. I don’t want anything to do with those people!” you defended. Spending a Saturday night with people you barely remembered wasn’t exactly on your bingo card for the year, but apparently Soo-ah was going to be the one to handwrite it into the free space that was leftover. 

“I don’t care. We’re going!” she responded, making the decision for you as she texted the RSVP number to confirm both of your attendance. You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to change her mind no matter what you tried.

“Fine. But you owe me,” you said, letting out an exasperated breath, rolling your eyes at your best friend. She was a pain in the ass, but you loved her. She’d stuck by your side for the last fifteen years, and had put up with her fair share of nonsense from you, so you could suffer through one night of nonsense for her.

Grocery shopping at night, alone, was one of your favorite things to do. The stores were always empty, peaceful. You meandered through the aisles, erasing items from the list on your phone as you tossed them into your cart. Stopping in front of the pasta section, you reached above your head to grab a box of your favorite, but it was just out of your reach. Bracing yourself on one of the shelves, you stood on your tiptoes, hoping those few extra inches would be enough for you to grab the box you wanted. Your fingertips only grazed the box, but just as you were about to give up on that particular brand, a lanky arm reached from just behind you and grabbed the box for you.

“Oh, thank— Hobi?” you asked incredulously as you took the box from his hand.

“The one and only, baby. I thought that was you. You haven’t changed a bit,” he answered, cocky smile matching his tone.

Jung Hoseok, better known as Hobi back in high school, was the town’s ex-resident bad boy, half (a very hot half) of a very well-known duo. He and his friends were always up to something, wreaking havoc everywhere they went. Constantly in detention, throwing wild parties, spending all of their free time getting high and definitely not doing any homework. His reputation as a player was well-known amongst everyone, too. From what you remembered, there probably wasn’t a single person in his crowd who he hadn’t slept with at one point or another. You’d steered clear of them, trying your hardest to maintain your girl next door image and straight-A record, hoping to gain admittance to the private university one city over. Your efforts had prevailed, and you were proud of the success you’d worked so hard to maintain over the last ten years.

“What are you doing back?” is all you could think to ask. It was eleven o’clock on a Thursday night, and you hadn’t seen Hobi, or any of his old friends, in years. Running into him here was nothing short of surprising.

“Didn’t you hear? The reunion is Saturday. Couldn’t miss that,” he shrugged.

“Ah. Yeah, should’ve figured. Soo-ah and I are going too.”

He chuckled, responding only with, “Well, I’ll see you ladies on Saturday then. How is Soo-ah, by the way?” He winked as he walked away, leaving you standing awkwardly at your cart, box of pasta still clutched in your hand. 

As you wandered the aisles, finishing up your shopping, you couldn’t help but think, just our luck. You knew that Soo-ah had been involved with Hobi during your senior year. It had been just a casual thing. They were never exclusive, according to him. Unfortunately, Soo-ah had had her heart broken when she found that out. You wondered how she’d feel seeing him again. But then, you wondered…

Would he be there too?

-

You and Soo-ah walked to the entrance of the restaurant together. The reunion was being hosted at a large brewery in downtown. You’d only been there a few times before, but you knew it had a large open area for mingling, good food and drinks, but it was especially dark inside. Entering the restaurant, you were met with a sudden wave of chatter and laughter, loud music blaring. The place had basically been turned into a nightclub of sorts, making your stomach churn. You weren’t one to frequent places with loud music or crowds, but here you were, doing both for some stupid high school reunion.

“Let’s go grab a drink and find some of our old friends!” Soo-ah suggested as she pulled you by the arm toward the bar. Trying to calm your nerves, you settled on a mojito, knowing the alcohol in it would make you relax. Soo-ah ordered her usual drink that was probably ninety percent alcohol, making you turn your nose up at the smell wafting off her glass as she picked it up. You took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. You had to admit, you barely remembered anyone, but for Soo-ah, that wasn’t the case. She had already pointed out multiple people she wanted to catch up with.

Voices and faces all blurred together as Soo-ah dragged you from one group to another. You exchanged pleasantries, but frankly, you weren’t really interested in reliving the so-called glory days of high school with people you never even spoke to. It seemed like all everyone wanted to do was brag about their lives, which you were not interested in doing. Finishing your drink, you politely excused yourself, heading back to the bar for another round. Thankfully, there were a few open bar stools left, so you plopped down on one, waiting to get the bartender’s attention.

“This seat taken?” came a deep, low voice to your left. Turning your head to see the owner of the voice, your jaw dropped when you saw him.

Min Yoongi. The other half of the infamous duo you spent years trying to avoid. Except for the fact that, this half? Yeah, this half was the half you’d actively pined over all of high school. You knew he was bad news then, so all you’d done was admire him from afar. Not that he even knew who you were anyway. 

“Uh.. um, no. Go ahead,” you responded, signaling to the bartender again, really needing another drink to get through whatever conversation was about to occur. Finally catching his eye, you breathed a sigh of relief as the bartender approached you.

“What can I get you?” the older man asked you with a gentle smile on his face. You rattled off your order, and he turned toward Yoongi. The smile previously on his face fell immediately. “Yoongi.”

“Mr. Cho. I’m good, I swear,” Yoongi defended, hands up as if in surrender. You tried to read the expression on his face, but failed. It was almost like… regret? Apology? You weren’t sure.

“Last time you were here, we closed with hundreds of dollars worth of damage because of you and your friends. A fight, if I remember correctly,” Mr. Cho continued, arms crossed over his chest.

Your eyes jumped between the two men, unsure if you should interrupt, stay quiet, leave? You decided, against your better judgment, to remain in your seat and stay quiet.

“That was years ago, Mr. Cho. I’m not like that anymore, promise,” Yoongi explained, going so far as to hold his pinky finger up in front of the older man, swearing on… something.

Mr. Cho rolled his eyes and continued, “What do you want?”

Yoongi ordered a glass of whiskey, neat. But what he said next took you by surprise. “Add hers to my tab, too.”

“Um— no, I’m fine. You don’t need to do that,” you interrupted, looking at him with a confused look on your face. All he did in response was wave his hand at you, as if to say, nonsense. 

Mr. Cho turned away to prepare both of your drinks, leaving you and Yoongi alone at the bar.

“I’m ____,” you started awkwardly.

“I know who you are. How could I not? Hobi dated your friend for a bit, yeah?” he asked, taking a sip from the glass Mr. Cho placed in front of him. 

Picking up your mojito, you gulped down more than you’d planned, but you weren’t a quitter. You swallowed, trying not to show the grimace playing at your lips.

“Not sure dated is the proper word, but yeah. Soo-ah was seeing him senior year. Until he conveniently forgot to mention to her that he was also seeing two other girls,” you snapped back. 

Yoongi snickered, tipping his glass toward you. “Hey, from what I heard, they never had the ‘exclusive’ talk. So you can’t blame him,” he said with a half-shrug. 

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at him. Typical Yoongi, you thought. Defending Hobi like he’d done nothing wrong, even though he knew that wasn’t the case, was something he’d always done over the years. You weren’t sure why he even hung out with him, because they weren’t the same. Yoongi never really gave the impression that he was willingly going along with a lot of Hobi’s antics, but what did you know? You didn’t really know them.

“Hey. I’m not Hobi, alright? Take that shit out on him if you want. He’s over there,” he pointed, “but remember, it’s been ten years. And Soo-ah doesn’t seem to care.”

Turning around, you saw Soo-ah in a big group of people, Hobi included, laughing and drinking. She wasn’t really acknowledging his presence, but she wasn’t exactly ignoring him, either. Rolling your eyes, you realized that he was probably right.

“Sorry. Old grudges die hard, I guess.”

“It’s alright. How’s life been for you?” he asked.

The two of you fell into easy conversation then. Where and for what you’d gone to college, jobs, how you spent your free time. It was like talking to an old friend, but also, not really.

“So, yeah. My job is basically always stressful. This is the first time in, like, months that I’ve been out and haven’t gotten a call from my boss,” you finished. You moved to take another sip of your drink, but to your dismay, it was already empty. You frowned, looking over at Yoongi as he did the same thing. You erupted into a fit of giggles, and he followed suit, laughing heartily along with you.

“Damn,” you said, shaking your head, “didn’t realize I drank that that fast.”

“Want another?”

“No, I probably shouldn’t. I get hungover really easily and that’s the last thing I need,” you explained.

“Hmm. You ever smoked weed?” Yoongi questioned.

“Do I look like someone who’s ever smoked weed, Yoongi?” you laughed out. The thought alone was hysterical to you. The fact that he would think you had smoked before was even funnier. You had never done anything even remotely illegal; no underage drinking, no shoplifting, and surely no drug use. You were known as the goody two-shoes your entire life, and you knew that he knew that.

“Well, no,” Yoongi admitted with a laugh, “but you should give it a try. It’ll wipe that stress away so fast, you won’t even notice it anymore.”

You gave him an incredulous look, thinking that he definitely had to be joking. There was no way you were about to blemish your perfect reputation by smoking weed to relieve stress.

“I can show you,” Yoongi deadpanned, “if you want.”

You shook your head, laughing at him. “No thanks, I’m alright.”

Yoongi reached out and ran his fingers along the back of your hand. He looked at you, a mischievous smirk on his face. 

“C’mon, live a little. Can’t you have some fun for once?”

“Min Yoongi. You don’t know me. Who says I don’t have fun?”

“Well, you’ve never smoked weed. That alone says you don’t have enough fun,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes. But the nagging voice in your head was beginning to eat away at you. Ten years ago, you would’ve done anything to get even the smallest bit of attention from Min Yoongi. And now, you were sitting here, having a one-on-one conversation with him for almost an hour, he was offering to spend even more time with you, and you were declining. Why?

It wasn’t in your nature to make impulsive decisions. You had meticulously thought-out plans for everything you did. But your intrusive thoughts were winning tonight, no matter how hard you fought them.

“Alright. Show me.”

Yoongi cocked his brow, seemingly surprised that you’d agreed. Before you had the chance to change your mind, however, he was standing, leaving a few bills on the bar to pay his tab, and grabbing your hand, leading you through the crowded restaurant and out the door.

The cool spring breeze outside was refreshing. You took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. Walking a few steps behind Yoongi, hand still in his, you stumbled a bit, the alcohol catching up to you more now that you weren’t sitting. 

“You good?” came Yoongi’s voice from ahead of you. 

“Yepp, all good. Lead the way,” you giggled. You were pleasantly buzzed, and you hoped the feeling remained until you were confident enough around him without it. He led you down the crowded street, never letting go of your hand, until you reached a high-rise building, hotel name illuminated in the night sky.

“We’re staying here this weekend. C’mon,” he gestured toward the building.

Five minutes later, the two of you exited the elevator on the eleventh floor, and Yoongi guided you toward his room. 

The fact that he had said ‘we’ downstairs was lost on you until he opened the door, holding it open for you to follow after him. You entered the room, setting your purse down on the dresser, and you noticed a third person already in the room, standing at the cracked-open window, joint between his fingers.

Hobi. 

-

“___? No shit,” Hobi blurted out with a laugh, coughing a bit on his inhale. 

“She needs to relax,” Yoongi explained, sly smirk on his face. You shrugged, unsure what to say other than to agree with him.

Hobi shot you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be one to join them in their late-night smoke session. “With us?”

“Shut up,” you snapped out in response, the words coming out more tense than you’d planned.

“Damn. You do need to relax,” Hobi laughed out. Yoongi had already joined him at the window, taking the joint from his hand and taking a hit for himself. He held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before slowly blowing it out the window. After letting out all of his inhale, he turned to face you. You were still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure where to go or what to do.

“C’mere, love,” Yoongi said, beckoning you over to them. You didn’t miss the pet name he’d used, but you chose to ignore it. Walking hesitantly over to the window, you joined the two men, resting your body weight on the window sill with your elbow, facing them.

Yoongi and Hobi exchanged knowing glances as Hobi took another drag, puffing the smoke out calmly. His eyes were already appearing glazed over, a serene air overtaking his normal exuberant self. He held the joint out to you, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

“Your turn, baby,” Hobi breathed out, watching as you took it from him. You held the joint between your fingers, unsure what to do next. You began to feel stupid, like you definitely shouldn’t be there, until Yoongi took it back, taking a quick hit before speaking.

“We’ll take care of you. Don’t worry,” he reassured you, holding the joint up and putting it between your lips, “Just inhale a bit, slowly. Hold it in for a second, then let it out.”

Even with following his instructions, you still coughed a bit (or maybe a lot), but neither of them said anything. You were expecting Hobi to make fun of you, to say something sarcastic about you being too innocent, but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, silently observing. His dark eyes, although glazed over, still intimidated you after all these years. For whatever reason, you could never figure out why, but he had always had a very intense aura to him. 

Thirty minutes later, the three of you had settled into a very comfortable, very giggly high. Hobi and Yoongi were sprawled out on their beds, while you stretched out sideways over an armchair, looking at the ceiling. The relaxation you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced. You felt like you were floating, fully embracing the euphoria. Your brain was lagging a bit, taking extra seconds to decipher whatever Hobi and Yoongi were discussing. You had to admit, you still didn’t know, and you had barely been listening, so you only caught the tail end of their conversation.

“No! That’s ridiculous,” Hobi yelled out, a hand over his belly as he curled into the fetal position, laughing. Yoongi was laughing too, and then it became infectious, impossible for you to avoid following suit. 

A few minutes of uncontrollable laughter later, Hobi got up from his bed to use the bathroom. You and Yoongi fell into silence as he disappeared. It didn’t surprise you that Hobi was even more obnoxious while high than he was normally, but you were struggling to figure out how Yoongi was taking his own high. He was giggly, just like you and Hobi, but other than that, he seemed almost like his normal, quiet self, maybe even quieter. 

“Hey,” Yoongi spoke suddenly.

Tilting your head upside down to look at him as best as you could from your position, you responded, “Hey, yourself.”

“C’mere,” he called, holding an outstretched hand to you. 

Brow cocked, you lifted yourself from the armchair and stumbled over to the side of his bed, looking at him quizzically, arms holding you up as you rested your palms on the mattress. 

“What’s up?” you questioned.

“I’m just gonna be honest with you. I get stupid affectionate when I’m high. Come lay with me,” Yoongi requested.

“Uh— why me? Can’t you cuddle with Hobi or something?” you asked him, laughing at your own suggestion.

Yoongi laughed, but then declined your offer, shaking his head.

“Been there, done that. He gets weird,” he explained, looking up at you from his spot on the bed, head resting on his outstretched arm. “Besides, you’re a lot cuter than him anyway,” he finished, putting on a smirk.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his admission, unsure if it was the weed talking or if it was how he really felt. But his eyes never left you, and he stretched his arm out more, making grabby hands at you.

“Please, love?” he asked again, puppy eyes on full display. You cocked an eyebrow, watching as his facial expression turned to full-blown begging before you.

You sighed, turning to sit on the bed next to him. “Fine,” you said with an exasperated breath.

Before you had a chance to think, Yoongi was wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down to lay next to him. He snuggled into your side, attaching himself to you like a koala would a tree, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. It was a little awkward at first, but before long, you had relaxed more, sinking into the mattress underneath you.

“You two comfortable?” a voice came from the other side of the room, laughter erupting from Hobi as he flicked the main lights off and flopped down on his bed again. You and Yoongi laughed along with him, and you couldn’t help but to turn into his embrace, enjoying his warmth and the feeling of his body against yours. You draped your arm over him, drawing patterns on his back over his shirt, hearing him sigh with what you could only describe as bliss.

The room slipped into mostly comfortable silence, aside from Hobi watching funny videos on his phone, laughing out loud at almost all of them. Yoongi had fallen into a deep state of contentment, his breathing almost even with yours, as you continued rubbing his back. Without even noticing it yourself, you slipped your hand under the back of his shirt, wanting more contact with him, and his breath caught.

“This okay?” you asked him, not wanting to push any boundaries of his. He let out a hum, resting his arm over your lower stomach, fingertips dancing at your hip.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed,” Yoongi sighed, “you’re so fucking comfortable.”

You laughed. “Me too. And you’re warm.”

As the minutes passed, you noticed his hand slowly moving upward until his fingers were grazing your collarbone, drifting onto your neck. His face was still buried in the other side of your neck, but you felt him lift his head slightly as he whispered in your ear.

“You’re really, really hot.” 

You whipped your head to the side, scooting back a little so you could see him better.

“Huh?” you asked incredulously, trying to suppress your laughter again.

He pulled you closer, lips pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the crook of your neck. You froze, your skin igniting under his touch. Your breathing hitched in your throat, your head spinning.

“I could make you feel so good,” he whispered, peppering kisses up your neck, his tongue occasionally darting out to lick at your skin.

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” you whispered back, laughter coming out this time. You weren’t sure if it was from the weed or your nerves, but you couldn’t stop giggling.

He, on the other hand, was not laughing.

“I’m serious,” he cocked his head at you, a wicked smile playing on his lips, “I know you feel it, too.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right. You weren’t usually a very touchy person, but from the minute he’d cuddled up against you, your brain had been short circuiting, the nerves under your skin like a live wire against him. You took a shaky breath, unsure how to respond. But then, a thought crossed your mind.

“What about Hobi?” you questioned, voice still a whisper, not wanting to attract the other man’s attention.

Yoongi snickered, hand moving to cup your cheek, as he closed in on you. Landing a soft kiss on your lips, he replied, “What about him?”

Suddenly, he was kissing you, the hand on your cheek moving to your neck, pulling you closer. His mouth engulfed yours, consuming you with desire. Your hand squeezed his waist from under his shirt, using the grip to pull your body against his. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, eliciting a quiet moan from you. He pulled back, breathing heavily, your faces still almost touching.

“We always wondered what it would be like to ruin you,” came a voice from behind you. You gasped. At some point in the time that you’d been distracted with Yoongi, Hobi had seen what was going on between the two of you, gotten out of bed, and walked to your side of Yoongi’s bed, all without you noticing. 

You bolted upright, looking like a deer in headlights as you realized that you’d been caught. Nothing had really even happened, but your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your nerves were on fire, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Yoongi, however, was still laying down, eyes darting calmly between you and Hobi.

“Woah, woah. What do you mean, we?” you said, voice no longer a whisper, but a low shriek.

Hobi chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he answered, “I said what I said. We’re kind of a package deal, baby.”

“What do you think, love?” came Yoongi’s deep voice from your other side.

You sat there, looking between the two men, brain still lagging from your high. Your relaxed state had quickly devolved into shock. You opened and closed your mouth, unable to find the words to respond.

“Let us make you feel good,” Hobi proposed, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, fingers brushing along your skin gently.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want. But, from experience, fucking while high is so good,” Yoongi stated matter-of-factly.

You took a deep breath, your brain finally catching up with your mouth so you could speak.

“Uh- I’ve never.. um..” you started, trying to put the words together. 

Yoongi sat up next to you, resting a hand on your thigh and squeezing it reassuringly. “We know. We can take care of you, love.”

You shuddered, breathing becoming erratic as you contemplated their proposition. Before tonight, you would have never even considered doing something like this. But your high, combined with how turned on you were from Yoongi’s efforts earlier, was clouding your judgment.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll drop it and forget this ever happened. Go back to relaxing, get some food maybe. But if you’re into this…” Hobi continued, moving his hand to play with your neck and jawline, sending chills down your spine.

“Say yes. We promise you won’t regret it,” Yoongi finished, running his hand along your thigh as he leaned in to kiss you again.

You sighed as you returned his kiss, pulling back after a few seconds.

“Okay,” you finally decided, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You watched as the two men looked at each other, exchanging understanding glances.

Then, without warning, Yoongi pulled you into an intense kiss. You melted into it, pliant under his lips, leaning into him as he gripped the back of your neck tightly. Your tongues danced, Yoongi eliciting a quiet moan from you as he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently. You held onto the side of his shirt tightly, knuckles turning white as you felt yourself get lost in him. Suddenly, you felt a second set of hands on you, running up and down your sides from behind you.

“Let us see,” Hobi whispered in your ear, tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt. You nodded against Yoongi’s mouth, giving him permission, willing yourself not to get too self-conscious. These were two of the most attractive men you’d ever laid eyes on, and they wanted you. It was hard to accept that fact in your mind, but what was happening in reality proved it to you. Hobi pulled the shirt off you in one swift motion, running his hands down your back, tracing the band of your bra as he did. His soft fingers danced along your spine, unhooking the band expertly. He pushed the shoulder straps down your front, letting Yoongi take over by pulling them the rest of the way off your arms and tossing the bra to the floor.

Hobi’s tight grip on your shoulders tore you out of your trance, still dizzy from being devoured by Yoongi’s mouth. He twisted you in his direction, pulling you by the neck with his other hand, engulfing you in a kiss with intensity that overshadowed Yoongi’s by a long shot. They were both great kissers, but there was something about Hobi’s that completely destroyed you. All thoughts left in your mind were drained as you entangled your hand in his hair, shifting up onto your knees to get a better angle. Hobi lifted you by the waist, settling you over his lap, pulling you closer to him, hands resting on your ass. The mattress shifted, and you felt Yoongi’s hands cup your breasts, gently kneading them from behind you. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed out, rolling your nipples between his fingers, drawing little whines from you as Hobi worked to unbutton the jeans you were wearing. You grabbed his hands, stopping him from going any further.

“Nuh uh, this isn’t fair,” you giggled, taking the bottom of his shirt in your hands and swiftly pulling it over his head. You couldn’t help but to ogle him. His warm honey skin tone was mesmerizing as you dragged your eyes down his torso, taking in his prominent collarbones, toned chest and abs, to the subtle trail of hair leading down beneath the waistband of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you traced your fingers along his clavicles, watching as he dropped his head back against the headboard. That position only made him more enticing, showcasing his neck, Adam’s apple jutting out. Yoongi’s lips touched the space where your neck met your shoulder, sucking gently as he continued massaging your breasts from behind. 

“She’s so fucking beautiful, isn’t she?” Hobi asked out loud, lifting his head, eyes shooting behind you to Yoongi.

“Mmhmm, she is,” Yoongi replied, continuing his ministrations on your neck and shoulders. You sat up straighter, arching your back, resting your head on his chest.

“Yours too, now,” Hobi said with a nod of his head. Confused, you lifted your head to look at him, and it clicked. They’ve done this before. And it was obvious there was a certain… dynamic, between the two of them. You tilted your head to glance back at Yoongi, watching as his eyes answered for him. It was almost as if he was cowering, afraid to say no. You felt his hands drop from your chest as he nudged you, pushing you forward a bit. 

Yoongi swiftly pulled his shirt off from behind you, and your eyes immediately followed the loss of fabric. His pale skin stood out in the dark room, and you could see the slight definition of his chest and stomach. Not as toned as Hobi, but still attractive to you, although in a different way. 

“Can I undo these, baby?” Hobi questioned, pulling at the button of your jeans again. You nodded, biting your lower lip as you once again willed your nerves away. His fingers moved deftly, popping the button open in no time at all. The zipper came next, then he pulled you up by your belt loops, taking you off of his lap and gesturing for you to sit on the bed next to him. 

Yoongi made his way over to you, sitting on your other side. His hand came up to push your curled hair behind your ear as he whispered, “You trust me, right?” You gulped, slowly nodding again. Words were failing you, your anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. “You trust us?”

Your eyes darted between the two men. With Yoongi, things were easy; he felt safe. But Hobi, you weren’t sure about. He didn’t exactly feel unsafe, but he was harder to read, harder to open up to.

“Hey, I know he’s a little intense sometimes. But he’s chill. It’ll be okay,” Yoongi reassured you, hand stroking your cheek lightly. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Just… take it slow, okay?” you requested.

“We’ll take it as slow as you need, baby. Just relax,” Hobi chimed in, shooting you a small smirk. With that, he hopped out of the bed, his erection prominently on display despite his tight jeans. As he walked over toward the window, Yoongi pulled you into him, his soft lips connecting with yours again. You sighed, letting him take the lead on the kiss, opening your mouth for him to explore. It was easy to get lost in him, easy to almost forget about the third person in the room.

“Here. Take a few more hits. It’ll help you relax again,” Hobi said from the window, blowing smoke out with a deep exhale. He joined the two of you at the side of the bed, handing you the joint again. You inhaled deep, this time more prepared for the burn of smoke to your throat. You exhaled slowly, feeling your high reignite almost immediately. You handed the joint back to Hobi, and he pressed it to Yoongi’s lips, allowing him a few short inhales before taking it back and returning to the window.

“Better?” Yoongi asked, his eyes searching yours. You breathed deeply, nodding, a small smile spreading across your face. Hobi joined you on the bed again, flicking the bedside light on as he did, his lanky arms falling around your shoulders as he pulled you to rest in between his legs, your back against his chest. 

“This okay?” he breathed into your ear, his hands wandering slowly down to your breasts as you nodded. “Use your words, we need to hear you.”

“Y-yeah, it’s okay,” you responded, and you let out a quiet whine as his thumb and forefinger closed around your nipple, pinching gently, sending shocks through you. Hobi’s skin against your back was warm, soft. He nudged your cheek with his nose, tipping your face to the side as he began kissing and sucking on your neck. Every kiss made you hotter, made your breathing more ragged.

“You know,” Hobi started, his tongue tracing a line down your neck, “Yoongi is really good with his tongue too.”

You shivered, glancing over at Yoongi, who was still beside you, palming his hard cock over his jeans now, eyes on you. 

“Show her how good you can be,” Hobi directed at Yoongi, raising his eyebrows as if daring him to object. Yoongi raised himself up onto his knees, leaning over to kiss the other side of your neck, trailing soft lips down to your collarbone and back up to your ear.

“Can I?” Yoongi asked you gently. You nodded, whispering a hushed yes in response. With that, Yoongi positioned himself in front of you, reaching for your unbuttoned jeans. “Say something if you want me to stop,” he said as he hooked his fingers into your waistband and tugged. Awkwardly, you lifted yourself to help him, and then you were pantsless; black, lace panties on display for the two men to admire.

Yoongi placed his flattened palms on the tops of your thighs, running them upward until he reached the hem of your panties. Fingers playing with the lace adorning your hips, his breath caught as his thumbs ran gently over your clothed mound. You squirmed, pushing your back harder against Hobi’s chest, hearing him chuckle in your ear. 

“So pretty..” Yoongi murmured, eyes never leaving yours, questioning you. You nodded in response, knowing he was asking permission to take off the only garment you had left. He moved quickly, removing the panties effortlessly. 

It was weird, being so exposed, naked in front of them, when all they were missing were shirts. Your anxiety revved up again, and you took a few breaths, not wanting to show your fear. “Um.. can you— can you take your pants off? Please? I’m a little self-conscious and I’ll feel better if we’re more even,” you said with a chuckle, feeling stupid to even be asking. Yoongi shot you an understanding smile, nodding.

“Sure, love. Anything you want. Hobi?”

Hobi tapped your bicep lightly, moving you out of his way. The two men stood, unbuckling belts and shimmying out of tight jeans in tandem. You couldn’t help but stare. In the light, they were even more gorgeous. Boxer briefs hugging their thighs tightly, erections on display for you to ogle. Your mouth dropped open, breath catching as your mind went haywire. This is it, you thought, this is really happening.

You weren’t the only one staring. It was subtle, but Hobi was still very obviously looking over at Yoongi’s hardened cock, tongue darting out over his bottom lip in desire. You had questions, but it wasn’t your place to ask them, so you let them go, opening yourself up to whatever was going to happen.

“You guys are so… ugh,” you scoffed, unable to contain your giggles. The two men came to join you on the bed again, taking their old positions; Hobi behind you, caressing your breasts and stomach, Yoongi between your legs, eyeing your bare pussy.

“Go on, then,” Hobi instructed, “make her feel good like we promised.” With his statement, he took one of your thighs in his hand and pulled it to the side, spreading you for Yoongi.

“Ah— fuck!” you cried out, not expecting Yoongi’s sudden onslaught to your pussy. He was quick. In the few seconds since you’d closed your eyes, tilting your neck to give Hobi access to it, he’d dropped down onto his stomach and buried his tongue in your folds. Gripping your other thigh, he was relentless. He worked his tongue from your clit to your entrance with wet, languid movements. Your hips bucked, your hand finding purchase in his long, dark hair. Hobi continued licking and sucking on your neck, fingers rolling and pinching at your nipples. The sensory overload had your head lolling back, eyelids drooping as you let out short little moans.

“No, baby. Eyes open, watch him,” Hobi murmured in your ear, voice dripping with mirth. You fought to keep your eyes open, your vision blurring as Yoongi sucked gently on your clit, watching you. You watched as he took his free hand, sucked seductively on the index and middle fingers, then brought them to your entrance, slowly inserting them into your cunt. You cried out again, your pleasure increasing tenfold with the added sensation. He twisted his fingers and hooked them just right, finding the spongy spot inside you in no time, slowly, rhythmically dragging them along your walls.

“Can you cum for us, love?” Yoongi asked you with a smirk, flattening his tongue and licking wide stripes up and down your cunt. Your body reacted, shaking as you got closer and closer to the edge.

“Yoongi— yesyesyes,” the words tumbled out as you came, your hips bucking as he gripped your thigh tightly, holding you in place to work you through your orgasm. His tongue never stopped, lapping at your juices as you gushed around his fingers again and again. You tried to escape his ministrations, but Hobi kept you still, shushing in your ear, chuckling at you.

“I was right, wasn’t I? He’s so good…” Hobi whispered to you, dragging his hands along your torso to rest on your still-moving hips. “I think she’s had enough for now,” he directed at Yoongi, who reluctantly pulled away, wiping his glistening lips and chin with the back of his hand.

You breathed deeply, gasping for air, feeling like your soul had left your body. You didn’t know what the fuck had just happened, but you didn’t have time to think about it because Hobi was pushing you up and off of his chest, crawling around you and over to Yoongi. You collapsed onto the bed as Hobi took hold of Yoongi’s neck and kissed him, then used his tongue to lap the remaining slick off Yoongi’s chin. “Can’t wait to taste you myself later,” he shot at you with a smirk, dark eyes glinting in the dim lighting.

You giggled, unsure how to reply. You knew what you wanted to do next though, so you sat up, ignoring your shaking thighs to get onto your knees. Sitting on your heels, you hesitantly reached out, tracing down the abdomen of both men with your fingertips, playfully snapping the waistbands of their boxer briefs. “Take these off,” you ordered, trying to sound confident. 

“Oh, she’s bossy,” Yoongi laughed out, biting his lower lip with a smirk. Without another word, the two men moved to remove their boxer briefs, leaving you on the bed, mouth agape as you stared. You couldn’t decide where to look. They were mesmerizing, naked in front of you. Your eyes moved up and down their bodies, one at a time, taking them in. You gestured for them to come back to the bed, and they did with no hesitation. Before you could chicken out, you went straight to Hobi, pulling him into a kiss. He reacted, kissing you back, hands holding the sides of your neck. As the two of you kissed, tongues chasing each other for control, you reached out to your side. Breaking the kiss for a quick second, you glanced down, reaching for Yoongi. Finding his hip, you scratched your nails across his lower abdomen, then down his pelvis. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him slowly, teasingly. He hissed, hips bucking at the feeling.

Going back to kissing Hobi, still stroking Yoongi, your usual filter was gone. You broke the kiss once again, leaning in, kissing and nipping at his neck and throat. As you got to the space right below his ear, you whispered, “Fuck me, Hobi. Please.” His grip tightened on your neck just slightly, and you felt Yoongi’s cock react to your words as he whined in response. You looked over at him, chuckling a bit as you said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get me too,” licking your lower lip seductively. 

With that, Hobi pushed you back onto your heels, grabbing your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. Before you could even react, he pulled your waist up to position you on all fours, his hand running across your lower back gently. “This okay?” he asked you, voice less cocky than normal. You could feel his fingers running along your ass, spreading you open for the both of them to see. 

“Ye–,” you choked out, stopping mid-word as Hobi ran his fingers along your folds, collecting your juices from your entrance before inserting them. You yelped, oversensitive from your previous orgasm, but it didn’t take long before your pleasure was building again. Hobi was skilled, that was for sure. The way he crooked his fingers just right, hitting all your spots, was almost enough to throw you over the precipice a second time. That is, until he stopped. “Hobi,” you whined, breathing heavily with your face in the pillow under you.

“Don’t worry baby, we said we’d take care of you,” Hobi reassured. You heard a ripping sound, presumably from a condom wrapper, and then felt his hands gripping your waist. Your body jerked as you felt the head of his cock rubbing your clit. “Shh, relax for me,” he said as he inserted the tip of his cock in your cunt. The stretch was more than you’d expected, but Hobi took his time with you, pushing inch by inch into your pussy, until he finally bottomed out against your ass, hands still gripping your waist tightly.

Yoongi had climbed around onto the head of the bed, sitting close to where your face was still buried in the pillows. You looked up at him from the corner of your eye, watching his large hand begin pumping his cock as he watched you. Using his other hand, he pushed your hair off your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You smiled at him, reaching up to touch his hand. He squeezed yours, but the intimate moment was interrupted by Hobi thrusting into you for real for the first time. You cried out, grasping the sheets as you were lurched forward. Looking up at Yoongi again, you were met with his signature smirk and a chuckle, followed by, “Sorry, love.”

His teasing tone left you wanting to do some teasing of your own. You picked yourself up as best as you could through Hobi’s thrusts, resting on your elbows. “Need some help with that?” you asked Yoongi, watching him jerk himself off, hoping your sultry tone had come through the way you’d wanted. He eyed you, biting his lip again. There’s something about that damn lip bite… you thought.

Yoongi lifted himself off the bed, kneeling now. He took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, using his thumb to pull your bottom lip down. You stared up at him, batting your eyelids, as you kitten-licked the pad of his thumb, making him hiss. You leaned forward, placing gentle kisses on his abdomen, trailing them down his pelvis until you reached his cock. Looking up at him, you slowly ran your tongue along his length, from base to tip, admiring the prominent vein running down it. Yoongi groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. Holding yourself up with one hand, you gripped the base of his cock with the other, steadying yourself, still on Hobi’s cock as he continued drilling into you. 

With Yoongi’s cock in your hand, it was easy to tell that he was one of the biggest you’d had. You knew you had relatively small hands, but seeing your fingers barely close around him excited you. Continuing your teasing, you dragged your tongue up and down, swirling it around the tip before taking it in your mouth. Your lips spread tight, you slowly bobbed your head, taking more of him in each time. Yoongi’s groaning egged you on, making you focus on giving him pleasure to the point where you almost didn’t notice Hobi still behind you. That is, until he lifted one knee and thrusted into you from a different angle, eliciting a loud moan from you as Yoongi’s cock was shoved to the back of your throat. Trying your best not to gag, you relaxed your throat muscles, swallowing around him. His hips bucked, his hands holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail as he began fucking into your throat. You had basically no control at this point, being jostled back and forth by both men.

“Tap my thigh if it’s too– fuuuck– too much,” Yoongi gasped, barely able to get the words out as you hollowed your cheeks on his next thrust into your mouth. With that, you tapped his thigh a few times, making him stop immediately and pull out of your mouth. His breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed, sweat collecting on his forehead. 

“Can I ride you?” you asked Yoongi innocently.

“Fuck– yes, please,” he responded, and Hobi stopped too, pulling out before looking down at you.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Hobi breathed out, giving you a smirk as he smacked the side of your ass. “Your pussy is so fuckin’ good.”

You watched as the two men adjusted positions, Yoongi lying on his back and Hobi kneeling on the bed next to him. Yoongi ripped open a condom wrapper, sheathing himself quickly before grabbing you by the waist and situating you over his pelvis. Grabbing his cock, you rubbed him through your folds, moaning at the sensation. You lined him up with your entrance, slowly sinking down on him. Your moans tumbled out as you began riding him.

“Your tits look so good bouncing like that,” Hobi complimented you, and you shot an innocent smile his way as you upped your pace, leaning back to show yourself off a little more. You used one hand to balance yourself on Yoongi’s thigh, the other to begin jerking Hobi off. He’d removed the condom once he pulled out of you, so he was still slick from the lube on the inside of it, making your hand move smoothly up and down his shaft. He was about the same length as Yoongi, but had more girth, which explained the stretch when he was fucking you. 

“Let me suck your dick, please, Hobi?” you pleaded as Yoongi lifted you up and pounded you down onto his dick again and again. Hobi smirked at you as he lifted himself up onto his knees more, and you bent down to reach him easier. 

“Bossy and a filthy mouth? Where’d this come from?” Hobi taunted, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him.

“You bring it out,” you answered with a smirk, taking one last look up at him before you sank your mouth down onto his cock, breathing through your nose, taking him all in. Hobi immediately groaned, moving his hand from your chin to your hair, pushing it back away from your face to get a better look at you.

Riding Yoongi and sucking Hobi’s dick at the same time proved to be a challenge. They were both so needy; Yoongi whining underneath you as you brought him closer to release, Hobi trying his hardest not to fuck your throat too hard. I’m not a quitter, you thought for the second time that night, hyping yourself up. It was much easier for you to focus solely on Yoongi, and let Hobi use your mouth the way he saw fit.

Yoongi pulled your chest down to meet his, pulling you away from Hobi to engulf you in a passionate, sloppy kiss as you continued grinding on him, rocking your hips back and forth on his pelvis for stimulation on your clit. You moaned into his mouth, reaching over to pump Hobi’s cock as you kissed Yoongi. Pulling away, Yoongi kissed up the side of your neck to your ear, gripping the back of your neck as he did so.

“Love… are you on the pill?” he whispered, earning a quizzical look from you. You nodded, unsure where he was going with his question. His grip on your neck tightened as he whined again, then finished with, “I’m clean… Can I cum inside you? Please…” His breathing was ragged, his thrusting up into you becoming erratic.

“Please,” you whimpered, nodding again as you pulled yourself off of him, giving him room to remove the condom. Hobi looked down at you again, moving to go back to fucking your throat. You brought your face all the way to his pelvis, swallowing around his cock as you bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks on each movement. 

“Fuck, baby, lemme cum in your mouth,” Hobi groaned, pushing your head farther down on his dick. You flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft, swirling it around the tip each time he pulled out. You felt his cock begin to pulse, and you hollowed your cheeks more, sucking harder as he shot his cum into your mouth. You swallowed, warm liquid coating your throat. Hobi’s moans rang in your ears as you continued running your tongue along his dick. He shook, holding your hair as you milked him into overstimulation. You gripped his hips, not letting him pull away as you playfully sucked on just the tip of his cock, enjoying hearing his whimpers until you finally stopped.

“Baby.. f-fuck, that was so good,” Hobi stuttered, collapsing back onto his heels before falling back onto the bed. His breathing was shaky as he looked at you, his eyes roaming over your naked body with admiration. You smirked, patting his thigh playfully as you looked back down at Yoongi.

His eyes had darkened, his pupils blown with lust. You reached for his cock, rubbing his now-bare tip through your folds, listening to him whimper. You chuckled, then lined him up with your entrance, lowering yourself down onto him. He groaned, hands going to grip your waist. Instead, you smacked them away, a new idea coming to mind. You took both of his hands in yours and pinned them at each side of his head as you began riding him again. You heard his breath catch in his throat, and you knew… mission accomplished. 

“Awh, you like being restricted, hmm?” you asked, giggling, watching his face for his reaction. He stared up at you, puppy eyes watching your every move.

“Love.. don’t do this to me,” he huffed out, chuckling a bit. Your eyes met his, a glint of seduction playing in yours.

“Do what?” you teased, clenching your pussy a few times around his cock. “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”

Yoongi groaned, gripping your hands tightly in his. You continued bouncing on him, rolling your hips the way you’d figured out he liked. It wasn’t long before he was panting, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. “Make- let me cum, love. Please,” he breathed out, choosing his words carefully, begging you.

Yoongi’s body shuddered as he let out a loud moan. You finally coaxed his orgasm out of him, the sounds he made almost making you cum along with him. You leaned down to kiss him, still holding his hands down at the side of his head, licking and sucking on his bottom lip as you rolled your hips a few more times. His moans turned to whines and whimpers, including a few curse words. “St- Stop, please, baby. Too sensitive,” he gasped out. You stopped moving, kissing him a few more times before lifting yourself off of him and collapsing on the bed next to him, breathing heavily yourself now. Whether that was from the overexertion, or the fact that you were so close to a second orgasm, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t help but giggle a little, throwing one hand over your face, covering yourself.

You felt hands on your raised knees, the strong grip letting you know it was Hobi as he pushed your knees apart gently. You uncovered your face, watching as he stared down at your spread pussy, Yoongi’s cum dripping out of you.

“You think you can give us one more?” Hobi asked, smirk playing at his lips as Yoongi ran his hand across your stomach to grab your breast, squeezing and playing with the nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You whined and nodded your head, oversensitive but still wanting more.

Hobi leaned down, using his fingers to smear Yoongi’s leaking cum around the lips of your pussy. With that, he licked a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit, kissing your bud gently before looking up at you. “You taste so good, fuck,” he groaned, continuing his attack on you as you bucked your hips.

He flicked his tongue rapidly, the sound of his face in contact with your wetness turning you on even more. “Ah— Hobi,” you whimpered, “fuuuck, you’re so good with your tongue!”

He chuckled as he began lewdly sucking on your clit, using two fingers to fuck into you slowly at first, then picking up the pace as your body reacted. Your whines and moans tumbled out, but in the middle of a particularly loud cry of ohfuckfuckfuck, you were cut off by Yoongi’s mouth overtaking yours.

Yoongi leaned over you, kissing you deeply, massaging your breast with one hand, the other hand tangling in your hair. It was hard to concentrate, squirming under him as Hobi brought you closer and closer to your high. You found yourself bringing one hand down to entangle in Hobi’s hair, using the other to hold onto Yoongi’s wrist as you kissed him. Your grip on his wrist tightened as your senses were attacked from all directions.

“That’s it love, such a good girl for us,” Yoongi rasped, breaking the kiss to watch your face as you cried out fuckfuckfuck once again. Your body shook uncontrollably, Hobi’s fingers hooking your g-spot as you came. Yoongi kissed you once more, swallowing your moans as you drenched the sheets below you in your release.

“Shit, you’re a squirter too? Jesus, you’re perfect,” Hobi growled, still fucking into you with his fingers, lapping at the juices coming from your pussy, helping you ride your high all the way through. You struggled to close your thighs, trying to escape his tongue, but both of the men gripped one each to keep them spread. Your oversensitivity overtook you, choked sobs escaping your lips as all you could do was let them have their way with you.

“Fuu— please, Hobi, please!” you cried out, begging him to stop before you quite literally almost passed out from the sensations. Your vision blurred in and out, seeing stars as you mentally blacked out momentarily.

Hobi continued his teasing escapades on your cunt, licking gently as your body trembled underneath him. You pulled at his hair, trying to disconnect his mouth from you, to no avail.

Yoongi reached down, tapping Hobi’s shoulder and giving him a pleading look. “C’mon, I think she’s done,” he argued tenderly, tilting his head questioningly. Hobi finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with his hand as he raised himself back up onto his knees.

You laid there, curling yourself into the fetal position as you tried to get your breathing back in check. You shivered, aftershocks from your orgasm hitting you still. You felt the mattress behind you dip down as a warm body came into your space, pale arms enclosing you in a back hug. Yoongi nuzzled his lips into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to the back of your head, rubbing his hands along your arms to warm you.

“You okay, love?” Yoongi whispered into your hair, trying his best to comfort you. You nodded, clutching his arm in your hand to reassure him.

Hobi joined your cuddle on the other side, turning to face you, cupping your cheek in his palm as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?” he questioned.

You shook your head, taking a breath before answering him. “No, I’m good. That was just… really intense.”

You felt both men shake as they chuckled, both doing their best to give you the aftercare you needed. “What do you need?” Yoongi asked.

“Do you wanna stay?” Hobi asked, swiping his thumb across your cheek. You reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding Yoongi’s arm, resting it over Hobi’s side. 

You didn’t know what you needed, but the desire to have physical contact with both men was overwhelming. Your shivers still hadn’t stopped, prompting Yoongi to pull you closer into him. Hobi scooted closer too, enveloping you in tangled legs and warm chests from both sides.

“Do you want me to stay?” you wondered out loud. The arms of both men tightened around you, giving you the answer to your question. 

“Please stay,” Yoongi requested from behind you, Hobi nodding his head in agreement. You sighed, a feeling of complete contentment taking hold of you.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you agreed, “but I want to shower.”

The three of you untangled yourselves to head to the bathroom. Showering together proved to be a difficult feat, the hotel shower not being built for three. Somehow, you made it work though. You took turns washing, Hobi and Yoongi both wanting to be the one to help you wash your hair. You giggled over their disagreement, settling on Hobi with the stipulation that you would, in turn, wash Yoongi’s hair for him.

Exiting the shower, you did your best to dry off in the tiny bathroom together. This resulted in laughs, knocked over toiletries on the bathroom counter, and more than one occurrence of someone almost falling over. You changed into borrowed clothes, an oversized t-shirt from Yoongi and joggers from Hobi.

Climbing into the unused bed, the three of you curled up together, snuggling in each other’s arms. The softness of these men surprised you. They clearly had personalities they didn’t show very often, only in private and not to most people. But for some reason, they were showing those sides of themselves to you. They had shown you that reputations weren’t important, that people’s pasts didn’t define them. More importantly, they had shown you that your own reputation wasn’t something you should care about the way you always had. 

Your eyes fluttered closed, drifting in and out of sleep. Right before you fell asleep, you heard Yoongi’s deep, raspy voice from behind you whisper, “We didn’t ruin you like we said we would earlier. You ruined other women for us.”

You were beginning to think the same was true for them too.

[seokjinsonlyone]

this how i think bts would be if you were pregnant

namjoon:

he’s kind of clumsy and brutish by nature so he would try his absolute hardest to be quiet gentle and out of the way when it comes to you

reads to your baby every night once their hearing develops; goes through tons of children’s books and buys the ones that have all the messages and lessons he wants his child to learn so you now have a very large carefully curated library in the nursery

your pregnancy becomes his new j hope like he’s gonna mention it at every given opportunity whether it’s related to the topic at hand or not

comes back with a new baby item every time you send him to the store; you have to draw the line once he starts buying jars of baby food just bc they’re cute and little

not too keen on going into the whole birthing thing blind so he persuades you into taking lamaze classes with him

seokjin:

has one of them pregnancy apps downloaded and updates you each week on which fruit your baby is the size of

thinks it’s unfair how you get unlimited time with your baby and demands he get one on one time with them; makes you put on headphones and play music so he can spend time and talk with them without you intruding

puts himself in charge of your diet; looks up different ingredients that are supposed to be good for you and the baby and makes recipes centered around that; feels guilty bc every once in a while he cooks something that baby decides they do NOT like at ALL and it makes you sick

once your baby starts kicking he lets them make final decisions on things y’all can’t or don’t feel like deciding on; what shirt should he wear today? baby chooses. can’t choose a restaurant for dinner? baby chooses. accent color for the nursery? baby chooses.

tbh his favorite thing about you being pregnant is that when y’all go out he gets to park in the spaces that be up front for expecting mothers

yoongi:

when you get to be too much for him he always threatens that he’s gonna go to the store to “get milk”

all you’d have to do is give him a theme and a color scheme for the nursery and he’d take care of the rest; would give your baby the childhood room of your dreams

always 10 steps ahead in planning; like you’re trying to figure out if it’s acceptable go out with your jeans unbuttoned bc they is not fastening no matter how hard you try and he’s trying to figure out if y’all should move bc he likes the school that’s zoned for the neighborhood 5 blocks away

tries to act all nonchalant but every time he talks about you and your baby his hand ends up clutching his chest and he has this undeniably soft fond smile etched across his face

daily foot and back massages and belly rub downs with stretch mark cream

hoseok:

most likely to get on your nerves; like most of time he is rainbows and sunshine and the absolute light of your life; but he gon catch you on the wrong day, a day when you’re already in a bad mood and your back hurts and your feet are swollen and he’s gon be hopping around making sound effects and you’re gonna absolutely lose it; he’ll try not to take it personally but you’re gonna have to give him quite a few kisses and cuddles to make up for your raging

would be even more terrified than you if you ever fell; like after the shock's worn off and you're calm again he's definitely gonna make you go to the hospital just to make sure everything's okay even if you told him you felt fine

carries the sonogram in his wallet front and center in the space where his ID should be for easy access to show any and everyone who asks about how you’re doing

buys all kinds of designer things for your baby; you have to beg him to stop spending thousands of dollars on clothes and shoes that are only gonna fit for a month and a half at best

has more of a nesting phase than you i think; like nursery is fully completed, go bag is ready, baby’s clothes are washed and organized, all the little gadgets, diaper genies, bottle warmers, etc are set up and placement tested for maximum efficiency by month 6

jimin:

the type to be uncomfortable with you doing anything; like if it was up to him you’d be in bed the entire time; you have to remind him that you’re pregnant not dead but you take it easy and let him help you as much as possible to ease his nerves

thinks it’s cute when you start needing help to stand up; sometimes he’ll just sit back giggling and watch for a while as you try to get up on your own before stepping in and helping you; videos the experience nd shows it to his friends

goes to every one of your doctor’s appointment with a notebook full of questions about your’s and the baby’s health and writes all the answers down very meticulously

spends like 3 hours building the crib for the nursery; there’s so much grunting going on that you’re concerned HE might be going into labor; gets inside the crib after he’s finally finished building it to prove to you how sturdy it is; ends up taking a nap inside of it bc he didn’t realize how laborious it was gonna he

completely empathetic to your experience so he’s up when you’re up no matter how late it is; will literally get up at 4am to get you a bottle of water and make you a snack and rubs your shoulders and back until you can fall asleep again

taehyung:

his hand stays on your belly the whole 9 months; like you’ll be 6 weeks looking completely regular trying to keep it a Secret until you make it out your first trimester but everyone is suspicious bc taehyung will just come up and start rubbing your tummy whenever he sees you

tries on your nursing bra and would be walking around the house flipping the cover off showing you his nipples at odd times

starts picking out names immediately; at the end of the day he’s always gonna yield to you bc he wants you to be happy but he really really wants to name his child

plays so much classical music bc he heard it makes the baby smarter that you start to feel like you live in the 18th century

knows he isn’t the best at cooking but wants to be better for his baby so he spends like 2 weeks perfecting his baby formula bottle making method

jungkook:

doesn’t understand how anyone could have the type of cravings you have but his curiosity is too strong and he tries each of one them; finds the peanut butter covered pickles absolutely disgusting but rocks with the dessert pasta

starts calling you ms penguin bc of the way you waddle walk when your belly gets too big

lactation kink

would be deep diving on the internet researching various things about pregnancy and then spend the next 4 months trying to convince you to do a water birth bc he thinks it would be “cool”

sits bam down and has a conversation with him about how he’s gonna have a baby brother or sister and what’s gonna be expected of him when the time comes; it’s definitely more of a pep talk for him than the dog

a/n: me posting this is just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you anyway 🫣 thoughts comments concerns are welcome

[namfinessed]

go around - j.hs. (preview)

genre: angst, fluff (childhoodcrush! brother'sbestfriend!) (wc)

summary: to everyone else, he was the sun but to you, he was always the moon, the light you grabbed onto when you could see nothing.

release date: tbd (reply if you want to be added to the taglist!)

-

hoseok was fourteen years old when it happened.

you were ten.

and he had thought he was too cool for you then.

you were sitting on the other side of the mary-go-round to him, it was the last but one day of the summer camp you were part of, and you looked at him as if he hung the moon in the sky.

and hoseok felt as high as the moon that night.

but he was also sick to his stomach.

"i like you," you didn't look at him as you said but hoseok could feel that you meant it, that it took a lot for you to get on that mary-go-round with him, spin with him, build the moon in his eyes and then say the words that he believed were stuck in your throat since when you first saw him.

he knew that your brother wouldn't like that you were saying this.

but he knew, even as a kid, that this was the most honest thing anyone's ever told him.

but he was so cool and so close to your brother, who would kill him if hoseok said anything back.

so, he didn't say anything back.

hoseok pursed his lips and looked away. he swears that, to this day, the tears shining in his eyes were nerves and not the frutsration that came with not being able to hold you to the moon too.

the silent rejection didn't yet hit your soft eyes and bare heart.

you kept looking at him, hands gripping the handles so tight that your knuckles changed shades between white and pink and your cheeks puffed, excited and nervous breathes still left your lips.

and hoseok didn't want to be cool for a second there, he didn't want to care about your brother at all, maybe he would just let you take him for a bit, just a bit.

but in your thin eyebrows, he saw your brother.

in your veiny hands, he saw your brother.

in your coily, curly hair, he saw your brother.

so, he got off the mary-go-round, he walked away quickly, not pausing to look at you and he sniffed his tears away, he hugged his jacket closer to his body.

tomorrow, he would be fine.

tomorrow, no one would look at him like he was the moon and he would be okay with it.

but hoseok turned around.

the biggest mistake of his life.

the moon you thought him to be, cast a glow on the tears gathering on your chin and his heart wrenched.

the next day, your brother, his best friend, died.

and you never spoke a word to hoseok again.

-

[chimcess]

Nachash || jhs (Prologue)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Doctor!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU (that's putting it lightly) Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count:  6.6k+ Summary: After losing both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell her home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place she barely remembers despite having lived in Harlem for a decade. Her reality begins to blur as she loses track of dreams and waking life. At the center of this confusion is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her an eerie sense of déjà vu. She can't shake the feeling that Hoseok isn't who he claims to be, and she's haunted by a strange bar that keeps appearing in her nightmares. Warnings: Wet dreams, explicit sexual contact in those dreams, graphic violence, hard dom Hoseok, demon Hobi acting like the horrible creature he is, emotional manipulation, DEATH, alcohol consumption, sexual harassment (brief), dream manipulation, stalking, vampire mind control, asshole Hobi (seriously), morally grey Taehyung, morally grey vampires in general, vampire bar, use of pagers because this is the early 90s (I have pager code translations at the bottom of the page), lots of cursing, vaginal fingering, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, sadistic Hoseok, death by sex in her dreams, did I mention how horrible of a person this Hobi is?, mans is an obsessive stalker, and this is just the prologue because Tumblr's new rules are weird and don't make sense, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I've had to split this into two seperate parts since Tumblr does not allow posts over a certain line count anymore (boo!), so I'm giving you guys the beginning section first! This entire story will be based in the 90s and will have a lot of pretty dark elements attachted to it. I really wanted to force myself to write a character that is so out of my wheelhouse it made me uncomfortable-- and that's exactly who incubus Hoseok is in this one. Happy Halloween everyone!

Next || Released early on AO3: here

August 1992

My bones cracked, the sound echoing through the sterile silence, and I struggled to catch my breath. A thin layer of sweat clung to my skin, and I patted myself down to make sure I was still awake, still alive. Slowly, the panic subsided as I took in my surroundings. The bright fluorescent lights above made my eyes ache, but their harsh glow was a strange comfort. I was still in the hospital. The bed beneath me creaked as I sighed and flopped back down.

The nightmares had been haunting me for a while now. I couldn’t pinpoint when the first one came, but it had been two months since they turned sexual. The worst ones hit during my 24-hour shifts, as if my mind was playing some twisted game. There was always a man—always the same man—with golden eyes that glowed in the darkness. His skin was soft, supple, and disturbingly perfect.

Even when I closed my eyes, his perfect face flashed in the darkness behind my eyelids. It always ended the same way. I would climax, my body thrashing violently, only to look up and see his skin peeling away, ashes raining down, with fire slipping through the cracks. My own body would begin to burn, and I’d scream in horror as his once-perfect face revealed a skull with flames and black smoke oozing out. I would wake up just as his skeletal hand reached for my throat. The scenario changed, but the ending never did.

Sighing, I fumbled around for my phone. When I found it under my pillow, alongside my watch, I realized that I was due back in twenty minutes. I groaned. There was no going back to sleep now. I carefully climbed off my bunk, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Dr. Boseman was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of my nightly torment. She still had another hour before she had to return to the floor. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror. The ER was filled with messy doctors, and I would be no exception. Slipping my shoes back on and shrugging on my white coat, I quickly put on my lanyard and left the little room.

It had been a relatively slow night. We all knew better than to say the dreaded “Q” word, but that didn’t mean we weren’t aware of the unusual silence. The most excitement we had was a car accident victim, and he would survive. My attending physician, Dr. Kepler, was at the nurse’s station laughing with some of the nurses.

“Morning, Doc,” came Shannon’s voice, the night custodian.

“Hey, Shan, how are you?” I smiled at the elderly woman.

“I’m fine. About to clean some bathrooms.”

“Good luck with that,” I waved, knowing the small talk was over.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need it.”

Dr. Kepler smiled when I was close enough to talk. He was a handsome man with broad shoulders and pearly white teeth. I knew better, though. He had a bad habit of cheating on his wife with residents. He had never shown any interest in me, most likely because I never treated him differently. Some of the girls were too friendly with him and lost their professionalism, and he took advantage of that. As much as he disgusted me, I had to admit he was one hell of a doctor.

“Dr. L/N,” he greeted.

“Evening, Dr. Kepler,” I replied. “How’s it going, Angie?”

The tech beamed at me. She had started working at the hospital around the same time I had begun my residency, and we made fast friends. On quiet days like this, the two of us would sit at the desk and shoot the shit. She gave me a little wink.

“Oh, you know, paperwork and stuff,” she replied.

“One of those days?”

“When isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes.

“I feel your pain,” Kepler forced his way into our conversation. He was dreadfully boring, so I chose to ignore him whenever this happened. Typically, he would realize no one was paying attention to him and leave. “I had to help out in L&D tonight, and let me tell you, I am glad I did not go that route. Couldn’t imagine having to deal with hysterical females all day.”

I grimaced. He was such a pig. Angie rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. If she spoke up, he would never leave. A few nurses gave half-hearted replies, and I caught the eyes of Issic, one of the nurse practitioners who helped out in the emergency room. Normally so well-behaved and soft-spoken, the large, teddy-bear-like man glowered at the doctor. If looks could kill, I could not say Dr. Kepler would be dead, but I had to admit he would be majorly hurt. Still, no one called him out on the gross comments. We never did.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Dr. Kepler bid us goodbye, his rant about how stupid specialties other than cardiology are.

Angie twisted her nose in disgust once his back was turned. She disliked him more than I did. He made obvious advances toward her, something that made her and everyone else at the station uncomfortable, but there was not much we could do. I told her to report him for sexual harassment, but she never did. Nor did anybody else. I had never noticed how little we stood up for ourselves before.

“Glad he’s gone,” Mariah, an RN, commented.

“Creep,” another tech said.

“Anyway,” Angie did not acknowledge them. “I’m going out for drinks with some of the other nurses. You want to come?”

“Where at?” I checked my watch. I would have to begin my pre-rounds soon.

“This new bar Dauphine. Selene went a few weeks back with some friends of hers.”

“I’m not in the club scene,” I reminded her.

I knew Selene, not well, but I did know her. We met at Angie’s Christmas party last year along with a few of her other friends. I had left early but not before Selene had started to bump and grind with anyone she could get her hands on. This included Jeon Jungkook, the local wack-job-false-prophet-wannabe-fortuneteller and my cousin’s boyfriend. The two ended up having sex in the back of his Impala where said cousin found them in the middle of the act. Jungkook said it was his “destiny.” Selene simply laughed and was right back on his lap. I did not care much for her after that.

“There are only certain rooms like that. The main area is like a lounge. She said it was chill until they went dancing.”

I hummed. It had been a while since I had gone out. Maybe it would be a nice distraction, especially with the weird dreams I’d been having.

“When?” Angie smiled wide. She knew she had won me over.

“Thursday. I made sure to get a day you weren’t on call.”

And then my watch began beeping, signaling my return to work. Angie pouted her bottom lip out and batted her eyelashes. I smiled and shook my head.

“Duty calls,” I turned around and began walking away. “See you Thursday,” I called behind me.

“Fuck,” I sighed, throwing my head back.

“You’re so wet,” the man groaned, releasing my clit.

I squirmed underneath him, legs shaking, and breathing erratic. The man chuckled darkly, sticking a third finger in. I cried out once more.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he rasped before slapping my right breast.

I screamed, the pain and pleasure mixing so many times tonight that I could no longer discern the two. He slapped the other side. Tears fell from my eyes.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” his voice felt further away than it had before.

His fingers were gone, and I whined. I hardly recognized the person I had become. Never had I begged for a man’s touch or wanted rough sex. I knew he could do anything to me, and I would not complain. I knew that he knew that as well. I also knew that he loved it. A sharp, painful slap was delivered to my already aching pussy. Another scream.

“And when I’m done,” slap, “I’m going to devour you.”

And I came undone for the third time.

I adjusted my dress again, feeling its snugness a little too keenly. It had been ages since I’d gone out, and Angie’s insistence on looking “sexy” felt like a cruel joke. Most of my wardrobe consisted of scrubs and old college hoodies, so my little black dress, tucked away in the back of my closet, had to do. Back when I was nineteen, it had fit like a glove. Now, it clung to my newer curves, which weren’t so new anymore. Should I change?

Groaning, I fell back on my bed. What am I doing? If Angie were here, she’d tell me to stop acting like “such a virgin” and laugh. She always laughed hardest at her own jokes. According to her, being with less than three guys by age twenty-three was unheard of. The fact that I was pushing thirty and had only been with two was some sort of medical anomaly to her. The virgin jokes had been annoying at first, but I’d learned that was just Angie’s sense of humor. Childish, yes, but she was likable enough to forgive it.

I sat up and looked at myself in the mirror again. The dress looked good, better than I expected. So why the apprehension? Struggling to pinpoint the source of my anxiety, I finally gave up. I threw on a leather jacket and started putting on the finishing touches to my look. I was meeting everyone at the club since Angie lived on the other side of town. She had kindly offered to pay for my cab. After texting her that I was ready, I slipped on a pair of black boots and stepped outside to wait for my ride.

The night was cold, unusually so for August, even for New York. Adjusting to the climate had been tough. Originally from Jersey, my family had moved to Florida when I was a child. I’d gone to Tulane for undergrad and then moved to New York for med school. After graduating from Columbia two years ago, I started my residency at Harlem Hospital Center. I was planning to stay for my ICU fellowship.

A gust of wind ruffled my clothes, and for a moment, I swore I felt phantom hands caress my hips. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine. My mind was still on edge from the nightmares. Last night’s had been particularly vivid: horns had sprouted from his head before he ripped a chunk of my breast out with his teeth, blood dripping onto my sheets as my screams echoed off the walls.

My phone rang, its sharp tone startling me. Angela had pressured me into getting a cellphone a few months ago, and I was still getting used to the intrusion. Handy at times, sure, but mostly an annoyance. The bulky Nokia was far too cumbersome.

“You in the car yet? The driver’s name is Jimin.”

As she said it, a pair of headlights turned the corner, and the car slowed down.

“About to get in now,” I said, eager to hang up. The assumption that I was wealthy because I had a cellphone always embarrassed me.

“God, I’m so excited to see you!” Angie squealed, the sounds of the club already drowning her out. I regretted agreeing to come out. “The password is Conti. Whatever that means.”

I smiled. “It’s a street name in New Orleans.”

The car pulled up to the curb, and I quickly opened the door. 

“I’m about to get in the cab,” I said, buckling up. “I’ll see you in a bit, Ang.”

“Page me when you get here!”

The ride was quiet. The driver greeted me, asked for my name, then lapsed into silence. Soft R&B played in the background. To distract myself, I sent a quick message to my mom and listened to the driver quietly singing along. He had a nice voice. Just as we pulled up, TLC came on, and I felt a pang of disappointment that I wouldn’t get to hear him sing along. I thanked him before getting out. Jimin drove off seconds after I closed the door with a polite ‘goodnight.’

The alleyway leading to the club was less intimidating than I’d expected. Angie’s description of a long, red-lit path had conjured far worse images in my mind. The lights were bright enough to see by, and the walk was short. Voices drifted from outside the club, easing some of my tension. Maybe the rumors were just that—rumors.

Dauphine had a reputation for attracting the town’s freaks. Drugs, alcohol, sex parties that ended in blood-splattered walls, and people who went in but never came out. The rumors spiraled out of control after Namjoon Kim was found dead outside. Typical media frenzy—no one cared when ten prostitutes went missing, but a rich CEO gets shot, and it’s front-page news. I rolled my eyes. Some things never change.

A group of friends stopped talking as I approached, and apprehension churned in my gut. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced it down. I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. Their presence was enough to leave me shaking. One of them snickered, and I shivered. Without even glancing at them, I knew they’d be terrifying. The bouncer opened the peephole in the door.

“Conti,” I said, my voice harsh.

The door opened seconds later, and I practically ran inside, shoving past the bouncer without much care. He didn’t seem to mind my rudeness. Without their eyes on me, I could finally breathe. I paged Angie to let her know I was here.

Angela: 110 307

Angela: 209

Y/N: 08

I shoved my pager back into my bag and started navigating the maze of the bar. The nurse had been right; it was more subdued than I had imagined. Red and black dominated the color scheme, with large sofas and booths scattered about. Neon signs pointed to the restrooms, and the place was pleasantly devoid of orgies or bloodbaths. I felt a wave of relief—no strobe lights, no thrumming dance floors. 

A few minutes later, I found the bar. Only one man was seated there, engaged in a tender conversation with the bartender. She caressed his cheek, and I melted at the sight. It was heartwarming to see such affection in a place rumored to be so dangerous. I doubted many would be comfortable with their partner working in a place as infamous as this.

Respecting their privacy, I took a seat a few stools away and picked up a small drink menu. Angie was nowhere in sight. I stifled a laugh; the menu was a mix of classic cocktails and blood types listed underneath each one. For a place as notorious as this, I hadn't expected it to be a vampire-themed bar. I was already excited to see the dance floor. Themed bars in New Orleans had always been a blast during my Tulane days.

"Good evening," the bartender's voice was silky smooth.

I smiled. "Hi."

"What can I get for you?"

Suppressing a grin, I said, "I'll have a dirty martini. Shot of O negative."

The chuckle slipped out before I could stop it. The bartender smirked, her skin glistening under the red lights. The man at the other end of the bar looked at me, his eyes wide, before bursting into loud laughter. Eyes turned towards us, the sensation making my skin crawl, but I stayed composed. The bartender leaned in closer.

"Are you okay with cherry liqueur?"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

She laughed. "Then you don't want that shot, babe."

I nodded, glancing at my nails. Where was Angie? Rolling my eyes, I groaned. She’d probably run into some guy and forgotten about me. I straightened up, trying to see over the tall booths scattered about. No sign of her blonde head anywhere. With a sigh, I gave up. She’d show up eventually.

"Looking for someone?" The bartender slid my drink over.

"Oh," I clutched my chest, startled. "Just a friend of mine. She got here earlier but I can't find her. She said she’d come get me."

"I might’ve seen her." Her brows knitted in concern.

"She’s tall," I gestured, "really skinny. Blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s wearing a blue sequin dress."

The bartender nodded. "Yeah, I saw her and a couple of girls head to the back. She ran off with a guy not too long ago."

I groaned. Of course, she did. I must have missed her on my way in. Sinking into my chair, I threw back my martini, ripping the olive off the toothpick. My annoyance was palpable. I tried calling her, but there was no response.

Y/N: 420

Y/N: 3011

After a few more failed attempts, I paged Monica, another tech from the hospital I was close with. I used her last name; there were too many Monicas to keep track of. Her code number was written down on a piece of paper in my wallet.

Y/N: 221

"Hey," the bartender called out.

She seemed hesitant to speak. I felt a pang of guilt for making her uncomfortable. She probably thought her tip was on the line. I willed myself to calm down.

"Sorry about that."

"No worries," she replied, waving me off. "Just… be careful. We get some characters in here. I’ll keep an eye out for your friend."

I smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Anytime. If you need anything, just ask for 'Bootsy,'" she winked before taking my empty glass and returning to her boyfriend.

My pager buzzed.

Everson: 419

I rolled my eyes. I hated technology outside of medical settings. Pagers were useless for meaningful conversation. Luckily, Monica carried her cell everywhere, flaunting her family’s wealth. Her phone was much nicer than mine.

"Hey babe!" She shouted over the music.

"Angie left," I spoke louder than necessary, hoping she could hear. "The bartender saw her leave with a guy."

Monica laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. We were too different to get along beyond pleasantries.

"Go Ang!" She giggled drunkenly. "We’re all in the back."

I rolled my eyes. "It’s my first time here."

"Bar, take a right, walk straight until you see a bunch of doors."

"What’s the entrance look like? Everything looks the same here."

"The door is black with a purple bead hanging off the handle," she hiccuped, then burped. "The lights around it are really red."

Annoyed, I shoved my phone into my purse and slid off my chair. The long hallway was daunting. This part of the bar was dimly lit and far more unsettling. Unlike the eyes on my back earlier, there was no one here. The jazz music faded, and I fought back a shiver. This place was creepy.

I went to the end of the hall only to find it empty. No door, no beads, nothing. Monica had given me the wrong directions. As frustrated as I was, I couldn’t be too upset with her. She had no idea what she was talking about and already had a few drinks in her system. My anger towards Angela only grew. I sent her another text, seething, and started to wander again, hunting for the elusive door.

The nurse was right; this place was a labyrinth. High ceilings and narrow passages could make even the most fearless person feel claustrophobic. I had to hold my breath when the walls seemed to close in. Aimlessly, I roamed, still finding nothing. The longer I walked, the more convinced I became that this lounge had been a catacomb at some point. From the outside, it didn't look nearly this expansive. My heels clicked loudly in the eerie silence. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I glanced around nervously.

"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?" I cursed myself, turning back the way I came. The bartender was nice enough; maybe she could help.

"It's a lounge, sha," a voice said behind me.

I screamed, flinching, and spun around, losing my footing. I grabbed the wall, but the impact scraped my arm against the rough bricks. The person offered a hand, but I ignored it, picking myself up and glaring at the stranger.

He was gorgeous—tall, slender, with broad shoulders and lean muscles under a white button-down shirt. His hands, large with long, piano fingers, slid back into his pants pockets. His doe eyes sparkled with amusement, and his grin was wide and boxy.

"My apologies," his voice was honeyed. "I didn't mean to startle you."

I kept glaring. "Startle? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He snickered before his eyes fixed on my arm. "You're bleeding."

I looked at my shoulder, noticing the rip in my jacket and the blood seeping out. Throwing my hands up in exasperation, I yelled, feeling tears welling up. Tonight had been a disaster from the start—the dress, the people outside, Angie ditching me. Every part of it felt like a waste of time. I should just go home.

"Are you okay, sha?" he asked, gently touching my arm.

I laughed bitterly. "Does it look like it?"

"No, you look upset."

"Great detective work, Captain Obvious," I snapped, rolling my eyes and yanking my arm away. "And it’s pronounced cher, not sha."

He stepped back, his smile never faltering. He seemed amused, which I found odd, but I couldn’t walk away. I didn’t like him. He was creepy, even in his beauty, and his eyes reminded me of the group outside. Yet, my feet felt rooted to the ground, as if frozen in fear.

"No, cher, it's sha where I’m from."

I sniffled. "Louisiana, huh?"

"Born in France, but my family moved to New Orleans when I was young. I learned Kouri-Vini from a trumpet player in the French Quarter."

Embarrassed by my outburst, I nodded. Trust me to correct the grammar of a Frenchman. The night’s mood soured further, all my hopes for a good time dashed. Still, I couldn't deny a strange attraction to the stranger. His presence, unsettling yet warm, invited me to stay.

"You looked lost."

"I am. Trying to find my friends, but I have no idea where to go. They said 'the back,' like that’s helpful. I’ve been wandering for at least thirty minutes."

He placed a thoughtful finger on his chin. "You really shouldn’t walk around alone," he warned. "There are a lot of unsavory characters here."

"Are you an Anne Rice character or something?" I scratched my shoulder, wincing at the sting. "Why are you talking like that? It’s weird."

"Should I apologize?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not if you can get me back to the bar."

He laughed. "I believe that can be arranged."

"You're doing it again." This time, we laughed together.

The walk back was shorter than I’d expected. He moved silently, with perfect posture, his perfection unsettling. Too symmetrical, too beautiful, and far too polite for someone who looked younger than me. As the jazz music grew louder, I learned he played the saxophone and trumpet for years in New Orleans. He opened his first bar, Midnight Moon, a few years ago and moved to New York City to branch out.

"What do you do for a living?" he asked.

"I’m a resident."

"Doctor," he whistled. "Very impressive."

"Not as impressive as being a rich, successful CEO in your twenties."

He laughed loudly, drawing a few looks. On cue, I lowered my head, feeling strange. Normally confident, here I felt the need to stay unseen, their eyes on me unnerving.

"What’s your name?" he asked, surprising me.

"Y/N," I answered, meeting his gaze.

He smiled, dazzling and unsettling. "I'm Taehyung."

"Nice to meet you, Taehyung," I said, my heart racing.

His eyes were a strange color, almost black with flecks of red under the lights. They were beautiful, but the spell broke, and I looked away again, feeling uneasy.

“There’s someone here who wants to see you,” Taehyung said, his voice rasping, almost angry. “But I don’t want to share you yet.”

I sucked in a breath, startled by his proximity. He had moved closer until we were chest to chest. I breathed him in—freesias and honey. My mouth watered, but I stepped back with effort. Taehyung didn’t follow.

“It’s probably my friend,” I said, noticing the bartender’s boyfriend staring. “We were supposed to meet here.”

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s eyes locked onto mine. “Remember what I said about unsavory characters.”

I nodded, dazed, as he brushed my hair behind my ear.

“Don’t leave with it, sha,” he whispered, sending a shiver up my spine.

I was too stunned to respond. Whatever Taehyung had said flew over my head as I placed my hand on the cheek he kissed. The skin still tingled where he had touched. When I looked up, he was gone. I spun in a circle, but there was no sign of the man anywhere. I made eye contact with the guy at the bar again and felt uncomfortable going up to him. He was frowning at me.

Taehyung had said someone was waiting for me, and the only person I could think of was Angie. She must have decided to come back after seeing my messages. Her hookup must have been lackluster if she came all the way back here. I chuckled to myself and finally walked to the bar. It would be fun to drink and talk shit. Then we could finally meet up with Monica and the girls, and my night could start looking up.

Angela was nowhere in sight when I got to the bar. The same man was still looking at me, as was the bartender. A new figure sat in my chair. It was another man by the looks of it, judging by their shoulders and haircut. I continued my search for Angela but still came up empty-handed. She was just looking for me.

"Looking for something?" the bartender asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, the guy I was with said someone was looking for me. Have you seen her?"

She pursed her lips and glanced at the other man. "Can't say I have. Taehyung was probably confused."

My shoulders dropped in defeat. Again, I was left stranded. I should probably just go home and call it a night. A small voice told me to go and find Taehyung. He had said he didn’t want to share me. How had he known someone was waiting for me?

I couldn’t think about it for too long, as if my mind wouldn’t let me. I thought about him, his perfect face, and how beautiful he was. His eyes, eyes I could not recall the color of for the life of me, staring down at me. His voice, a gentle purr in my ear beckoning me closer. A draft startled me out of my daydream and I realized I wanted to leave.

I sighed. "I think I’m going to head out then."

I swore I saw relief wash over her face. Her lips had been tight when I came back around, but she gave me a small, genuine grin. Probably some asshole customer. Every place has them, even a luxurious one. Her shoulders stiffened when the other man raised his arm. Her boyfriend’s hands clenched. That guy must be the douche.

"Bourbon." Oh, yeah, definitely a tool.

I rolled my eyes and did not think before taking a seat at the bar. I could at least distract her. She frowned at me and continued making his drink.

"Thought you were leaving?"

"I could get another drink before I go." I smiled at her.

"Dirty martini for the lady," the mystery man said.

My heart stopped. His face... My mouth dropped open at the sight of him. My dream man. He was sitting right in front of me. Every detail, every line and curve were the same. Even the mole on his lip was there. Just like Taehyung, it was hard to look into his eyes, but I knew they would be the same. I couldn’t remember what they looked like, but I was certain they shined a gentle, soft gold in the dark.

"You do like them dirty, right?" He grinned.

I couldn’t respond for a few moments. The resemblance was uncanny. The anxiety Taehyung’s presence had given me was nothing compared to this. It felt like an elephant had sat on my chest while every nerve in my body screamed at me to run. And just like Taehyung, I found myself unable to move. I found that I did not want to. I welcomed the feeling.

"How did you know that?" I asked, still in awe.

"I overheard you earlier. Was going to buy you one then but you left before I could."

I swallowed my thickening saliva. It was hard to get down. Every part of me wanted to run. My body begged to get away from him, but it also yearned to be near him. I was alight in every way possible, and the confusion was hard to wrap my head around. Do I stay or do I go? As if he could read my mind, the man reached out and ran a finger over the top of my hand. Electricity shot through my body, and it burned where he had touched.

"Have a drink with me."

"Okay," I whispered, hypnotized by his voice.

The bartender placed my drink in front of me before going back to her side of the bar, like she was trying to stay as far away from the man as possible. I knew his name, it was on the tip of my tongue, but I was insane to think it was even possible. He was a stranger, and there was no possible way he was my dream man. The two just looked similar. In my dreams, his eyes were gold, and his skin was much paler and sickly. I glanced at his hands and relaxed even further. In my dreams, the man had scars over every inch of his body.

"I’m Hoseok, by the way." He smiled at me, and I quivered.

There was something off about his teeth. His canines were too sharp. In fact, all of his teeth were. They were so white they almost glowed in the red lights. Too perfect. Everything about him was. I scooted away from him and angled my legs toward the bartender. I wanted to leave again. I wanted to get away from him. I had been right about his name.

I took a nervous sip of my drink. Why had I sat down in the first place? At the moment, it had seemed like the right thing to do, but now I felt conflicted. Had I really wanted to stay? It surely felt that way at the time. Now, I wanted to go home, and my body language was clear. Still, I could not stand up and walk away. Still, I took another sip and curled away from him without moving.

"Are you okay? You seem tense."

I nodded too quickly and enthusiastically to ever be taken seriously. Hoseok seemed amused by this, just as he had been smirking at my squirming moments before. He was unsettling. Maybe it was his resemblance to the monster from my dreams that had me on edge. Yes, I thought, that had to be the reason.

"Bad night," I replied, my hands shaking. I quickly finished my drink and stood up. Hoseok smiled at me. "Thanks for the drink. I’ll be going now."

"See you soon, Y/N."

I was so focused on leaving the bar, I did not hear the slip of his tongue. I had never told him my name. That night, after I got home, I dreamt of Hoseok killing me again. The next day, Angela never showed up for work, never answered my messages. No one else had heard from her either.

Her body was found mutilated and tortured in a motel room a few blocks away from Dauphine the following morning. My dreams began to include her in them. She cried for me to help her, blamed me for her death, and even laughed as I got my throat ripped out. I was never able to focus anymore and was blessed that my residency program finished only four months later.

After graduation, the dreams stopped. I stayed with my parents for the summer, played in the Florida sun, and decided against going back to New York for my fellowship. Instead, I chose to stay in Tallahassee and start my career. It was safe there. He was gone. A few years later, I left for Jacksonville, and my paranoia had started to fade.

Years had gone by, and my memories of his face began to escape me. His name was nothing more than a gentle whisper in the deepest pits of my mind. Even then, saying that would be an overstatement. My return to New York was in the wake of my mother’s death. My dad had passed away a few years prior, and our vacation home in Harlem, the same place I lived in so many years ago, had become prime real estate. I got a fellowship through Columbia upon my return. Life was looking up despite my grief, and I was ready to start a new venture in my medical career.

That was the beginning of my eventual end. I had cheated death all those years ago. Angela was my replacement, though I had no idea at the time. That thing knew she was waiting for me. It knew she would not let me out of her sight, so it took care of the problem. My fear gave it power, and it indulged itself in my torture. When I came back, it knew.

This time, I would not be lucky. Nothing and no one would get in its way. Soon, all memories of that night vanished. Angela’s name escaped me first, then her face, and finally what happened to her. Dauphine and its never-ending halls were gone. The thing that sat at the bar made sure of that before making his next move.

It was mid-October when he came back into my life, all memories of his face wiped from my mind, and his game really started. My death would be his favorite. A death he rejoiced in for years to come only to be disappointed that nothing lived up to that night.

Things like Hoseok lived for the chase, and I proved to be his greatest target.

Next

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[lxvemaze]

hi honey, hope you’re having a good day ♥️

i’m aware i alr have one req in BUT i just thought up another and if i dont send it rn i will forget it🥴

so here goes; how about a hobi smau (texts and maybe insta at the end?) where reader always posts her friends etc to her stories but NEVER posts about him and he asks her about it bc he’s upset she might be embarrassed about him BUT actually she just didn’t realise she was allowed to post him bc he’s an idol etc yk?

i haven’t requested a bts one in a hot minute so that’s why i chose hobi lololol ♥️

~ your batsie 🦇🦇🦇

THIS IS SO CUUUUUTE 😭 i luv your brain batty😞☝️ hope this okay that this was kinda short :(

彡embarrassed???

pairing' hobi x reader

genre' smau, fluff

warnings' short and sweet, mentions of insecurity, hobi is a sweetie pie, reader is kinda clueless at first

[violetsiren90]

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut (eventual fluff 😂); BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom; MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace lol; Hobi in the studio 👀 (The full oneshot will come with more specific warnings - a looooong list lol)

Mood board here! ⛓🖤

Release date: Christmas? 🎄

Author's note: Hey, y'all! I am catapulting out of my comfort zone with this one and, honestly, having the time of my life. I've been in my Hobi era lately and when the concept of dom!Hobi possessed my mind I knew I'd have to write it out or else. 😅😂 I hope to pop this under your trees around Christmas! Hope you enjoy the teaser, and as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Also, a big thank you to @orchidyoonkook for beta reading this - you are the real MVP! 💕

If you want to be alerted via the tag list for this when it drops, let me know!

_______________________________________________

  "What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

    You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

    "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

    The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

    "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

    You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

    Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

    You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

    "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

    He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

    "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

    At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

    Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down. It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

    "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

    "I told him...I said..."

    "What?"

    "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

    You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. Shit.

    "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

    He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

    "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

    You don't answer him. You can't. Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his grey sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him -  standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

    "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

    He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bare.

    "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

    He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

    "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

    "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

    You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

    "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

    "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

    But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

    "When you're a filthy pathetic little slut."

    A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together (to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure), and that's when he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes fluttering frantically open. 

    "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?" Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long, something that longs to feed.

    You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

    "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want - your friend. Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

    "Yes - yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

    So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body. You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

    "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his words.

    You blink, your mind running up against the sudden saccharine pet name (which he has admittedly called you before) as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous.     Something simple maybe...a flower...?

    "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

    "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever - okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

    You nod.

    "Say it for me," he whispers, you shiver again. Fuck.

    "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

    "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

    You scramble to find your voice.

    "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

    He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

    "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

    He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

    "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

     He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

    "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

    "No, Hobi," you whisper. And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

    "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

    You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and completely exhilarating. When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want. You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

    "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

    "Make me."

[euphoricfilter]

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #7

tonight’s night thot is probably one of the filthier ones

hobi who loves a little power play and cum stuffing. he’d make you sit on the floor while he sits on the bed, fully clothed; watching you with a dildo stretching your ass, empty pussy leaking slick onto the floor in slight humiliation as you bounce, shirt tucked under your chin and bra pulled below your tits so he could watch them

hobi would spoil you with sex toys, let you pick out the one you wanted as long as it had a syringe. would have you splayed across the bed as he expertly stretches you out, fingers curling deliciously as he lets you rut against the silicone dildo, slicking it up for him while he stretches you out

he wouldn’t be able to get enough of the thought of you utterly stuffed full of cum— be it fake, or his— he didn’t care. he’d let you circle your hips, let you ride out your own pleasure, tears clinging to your waterline as you beg for him to fill you up. addicted to the feeling of being so full. he’d make sure you’re laid out on your back, watching your pitiful cunt clench around nothing as he pushes down on the syringe, so much lube like cum flooding your ass. he’d make sure you were holding your knees to your chest before he pulls the dildo out, pretty bejewelled butt plug easily slipping into you with how stretched out your ass is, making sure to keep you stuffed full, fingering in whatever slips out of you

only then would he pull his sweats down past his balls, cock red and straining against his stomach as he wraps his fingers around his shaft— making sure you were parting your labia so he could watch your clenching hole dribbling more arousal as he jerks off over your pussy. only dipping the tip of his cock between your walls as he cums; warm seed and accidental nudge of his knuckles against your clit sending you spiralling into your own orgasm.

and then, his cockhead rubbing over your sensitive clit as he smears more of his cum over your slick cunt before pulling your panties up so you stay full of cum as you laze around the house, panties soaking that little bit with his seed when you forget to keep it inside of you, along with the promise of him fucking you if you were good

(thank you @m1sss1mp my love for the inspiration!)

night thots masterlist

[magicshopaholic]

Teaser: A Rainy Day (OT7)

(Set a few weeks after Fever Dream)

Masterlist

November in Seoul rolls around unexpectedly soon and occupies its usual position: a harbinger of the cold and white winter months, making the heat and humidity of summer a distant memory.

With BTS’s world tour officially at an end, followed by its normal uptick in concert clips and dance challenges floating around the internet while the company celebrates amidst figurative piles of cash, the members finally have the luxury of a few weeks off work where seeing them off stage and in casuals is the new novelty.

This includes Namjoon as well. After a tumultuous year of heartbreak and pain and longing, along with the real and genuine fear that he may have to give up the girl of his dreams due to extenuating circumstances, he and Kaya mutually decide that they need time away to reconnect with each other. Leaving behind their homes in Seoul and Amsterdam respectively, they reunite at Hamburg Airport from where they take a cab in relative anonymity to begin their vacation.

With Namjoon gone, the company automatically takes it easy on the group as well. With Namjoon gone, the members manage to relax, able to keep an additional distance between them and the company before work inevitably starts again and the nomadic life of sleepless nights, dance practices and event appearances resurface.

Perhaps they underestimate their leader’s role in their lives, or it simply does not occur to them just how dependent they all are on each other after a decade of working, living and breathing in synchronicity. Namjoon is only gone for three weeks in total - but with Namjoon gone, all hell breaks loose.

With Namjoon gone, one member crosses a line.

With Namjoon gone, one member unintentionally makes a mess.

With Namjoon gone, one member does something he’s ashamed of.

With Namjoon gone, one member makes a joke without realising its consequences.

And with Namjoon gone, two members kiss someone they shouldn’t.

—

[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

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

"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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"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."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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!!