#bts smut club

[theharrowing]

Showstopper 📸 3: Nobody has ever made me feel this way

Hoseok knows the rumors.

Everyone in the industry knows the rumors.

Min Yoongi is a player. Min Yoongi is a snake. Stand in front of Min Yoongi’s camera, and you will be just another one of his victims – prey for him to use as he pleases and toss away when he gets bored.

📸 Hoseok x Yoongi

📸 word count: 18.7k

📸 strangers to lovers, model & photographer au, angst, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

📸 warnings: Hoseok & Yoongi switch; they are both hot and cold & there is plenty of angst; footsie that turns to cockstepping; explicit discussion of sexual acts; jealousy; attempts at communication; dry humping; hair pulling; use of "good boy"; mouth spitting; blowjobs; deepthroating; a lot of drool; brief delicate cheek slapping; cum swallowing; some overstimulation; frotting; Yoongi is surprisingly submissive; sexual acts happen while somewhat under the influence but not drunk.

📸 notes: this chapter is very dialogue heavy!!! i hope some plot points don't feel too rushed or contrived, but i am trying to squeeze everything into my 4 planned chapters, since i have so much on my plate! 💜

📸 written for the BTS Found Fest!

📸 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading.

📸 posted jan. 2024 | read on ao3

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Hoseok cannot, for the life of him, pretend that kiss never happened. 

He may as well be drunk each day with the way he spaces out, misses instruction, and does not seem to be fully aware of his surroundings. He is clumsy, always staring at Yoongi's hands, and forgetting to change poses without being told. 

And to make matters worse, Yoongi's moodiness has ramped up. He is quick to snap his fingers and bark instructions. 

"Model," he will say, not using Hoseok's name, "get your head out of the fucking clouds, what is going on with you?"

With a shrug and maybe a yawn, Hoseok will sigh and bat his eyelashes. "Sorry, boss," he will make his voice soft and sweet as candy floss, "just tired this week."

The thing is, Hoseok is coasting until he finds out whether Dior wants more from him. He already has the cover and the money shots – the shit he is doing this week is all random filler images that Yoongi will keep a stock of in case he needs something for an ad. Random outfits, random backdrops, random accessories. 

Why he is bothering to do any of this right now seems pointless. It is almost as if Yoongi is just asking him to be around for the sake of having him around, and Hoseok finds it tedious. After his hot shot Dior campaign, he deserves a vacation. He wore a merkin, for fuck's sake. 

During the third day of this nonsense, Namjoon comes sighing into the makeup room, shaking his head. There are other models around, so he waits to get up close to Hoseok's ear to mutter, "You're really getting under his skin. Are you trying to get fired?"

Hoseok simply stares at him with one eyebrow raised. He knows Yoongi has told Namjoon about the kiss – he tells Namjoon about everything. 

Namjoon confirms that he at least knows something by rolling his eyes, shaking his head, and saying, "Well, he has asked me to invite you to dinner with him today so the two of you can speak."

"I have nothing to say to him," Hoseok says, holding out his perfectly manicured left hand to inspect whether his nails are still shiny and well-groomed – they are. "If he wants to invite me out, he can do it, himself."

On top of everything else, Hoseok is playing hard to get. If Yoongi wants to see or speak to him, he can earn the right. One does not barge into Hoseok's apartment, surprise him with a life-altering kiss, and then carry on like everything is fine. Absolutely not. 

He wants to annoy Yoongi by playing footsie with him under a restaurant booth, or seduce him up in his big, dark office, but not let him have anything more than another kiss. Just to show him that he is not fully in control. 

But he doesn't want to make it obvious to the other models. He has no desire to commiserate with them over the ways Yoongi has used them. 

Ultimately, Hoseok wants to come out on top – figuratively and literally. He wants to have Yoongi sprawled out across that big, leather-topped desk of his, moaning Hoseok's name in his deep, raspy timbre. That's the goal. 

Namjoon pulls out his phone and thumbs around, dimples on display as he smiles to himself. Hoseok likes it when Namjoon plays along with his cattiness, and he imagines that Namjoon is relaying his message to Yoongi. 

Meanwhile, models come and go, all shooting with different photographers throughout the massive studio space. Only Hoseok and Sunmi have Yoongi's attention, and Hoseok has been attempting to watch like a hawk to see if any flirtatious behavior is exchanged, but much to his chagrin, Sunmi only seems to be behind Yoongi's lens when Hoseok is busy getting his hair and makeup done. 

He wonders how many more models Yoongi will kiss this week. How many does he text to ask if they need a ride home? How many go out to lunch with him in secluded corner booths and shower at his home studio?

Whereas before, Hoseok thought he was catching feelings for Yoongi, now he is determined for it to be a power play only. He just wants to fuck him once to get it out of his system – mark up that round little ass of his. Then he can leave this whole stupid company behind. 

Hoseok is balls deep in a mental image of Yoongi bent over his large desk when he hears the man's voice cut through his imagination, bringing him back to reality.

"Hoseok."

Hoseok looks up to find Yoongi's head peeking into the room. Namjoon is still present, still on his phone, but Hoseok can tell by his expression – by the way his eyes are staring unmoving at the device – that he is definitely eavesdropping. 

"Yes, boss?" Hoseok asks with as much indifference as he can muster. 

"How would you like to come on a little field trip with me? Dior wants to discuss a second round of outfits, and I could use some dinner."

Hoseok stretches his back and lets out a deep sigh, then he slouches in his chair and shrugs, acting bored. "Sure. Sounds fun."

Rather than respond, Yoongi simply leaves the room. Hoseok stands to follow, but Namjoon stops him in his tracks. 

"Let's find you something nice to wear," he says.

Hoseok looks down at his favorite baby blue cropped tee and low-rise daisy duke denim shorts and says, "What are you talking about? I look amazing."

"I didn't say you didn't look amazing," Namjoon responds with a playful smile. "But I just think you should wear something a touch more put together."

By now, all of the models have left the room, and Namjoon closes the door. 

"Why?" Hoseok asks conspiratorially. "Is he taking me somewhere nice? Gonna butter me up? Or finally apologize? Maybe try to corner me for another stupid fucking kiss?"

With a sigh, Namjoon turns to a rack of black and white clothing and begins to search until he pulls out a black blazer, black slacks, and a delicate off-white silk blouse. Hoseok rolls his eyes dramatically but cannot hold back a smile as he strips down and allows Namjoon to play dress up. 

The blouse has a deep v-neck that hangs gracefully down to the valley of his pecs, and he wears the fitted blazer fully open, with the blouse tucked into tight, fitted slacks that are accentuated nicely with a black leather belt. Namjoon dusts a thin black line around Hoseok's eyes and chooses a pair of chunky black loafers for him to wear. 

While Namjoon is digging through a chest for jewelry pieces, there are three soft knocks on the door, followed by it slowly opening and Yoongi sticking his head back into the room. Hoseok stares at his boss, watching as his eyes widen and then settle back to their cold natural state. 

"We're just about finished, boss," Namjoon says. 

Yoongi heavy-blinks and nods once, then says, "I'll be in the car."

Hoseok is no fool – he knows that behavior well. "He wants me so bad," he says, giggling to himself while cold metal is draped around his neck and fastened into place. 

Namjoon has chosen a stack of delicate gold chains that drape and cascade beautifully with the deep neck of the blouse. Hoseok dances his fingertips along one of the thickest chains and smiles into the mirror. 

"Joonie Baboonie, you have such an eye for style."

"Baboonie?" Namjoon asks with a chuckle as Hoseok spins on his toes and pats Namjoon on one of his big, strong biceps. 

"Yes, Baboonie! You got this primal ape thickness to you," he says, giving Namjoon's arm a squeeze. 

Namjoon gasps and yanks his arm away, pretending to be scandalized. "I don't even know what to think right now."

"Trust me, it's a compliment," Hoseok says as he turns toward the door, looking over his shoulder to add, "You're easily one of the hottest men on this peninsula."

The tips of Namjoon's ears turn a precious shade of red, and Hoseok grabs his phone, wallet, and keys from where they sit on the vanity counter and slide them into his borrowed pockets, giggling to himself over how fun it is to rile Namjoon up. 

He takes his time walking through the studio, to the large front doors ahead, listening to shutters snap closed while photographers and directors instruct and praise and ask more from their models. Despite feeling fed up with Yoongi's antics, he is proud to be part of this world, and he holds his head high as he pauses before the sliding glass doors and waits for them to open wide. 

It is early evening, still bright and warm outside. Hoseok spots the familiar sedan sitting curbside and is pleased to find only Yoongi waiting for him. He can play coy all he wants in the presence of others, but he is not so sure he can hold up the facade around Seokjin, and the man's absence is a relief. 

Yoongi wears a black mask over his nose and mouth, as well as black sunglasses, and when Hoseok opens the door and slides into the front seat, Yoongi points to the glove compartment and says, "Disguise, please."

Now that Hoseok is alone with Yoongi, he fully takes in his appearance. Between being photographed by him earlier in the day and now, he has changed from his typical flowing black rags into a white button-up top with long, sharp lapels, and charcoal grey slacks that strain against his thighs. His hair has so much volume that the tips fan out in pretty waves, and Hoseok openly stares, feeling his feigned impassiveness crash down around him. 

There is no way he is going to be able to have the upper hand if Yoongi is this fucking pretty. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi says, "we don't have all day."

Hoseok clears his throat, blinks Yoongi from view, and leans to open the glove compartment. Inside is a pair of black sunglasses and an unused black mask, and he reaches for each item to put on.

"Why the disguises?" he asks. 

"I don't like my identity being widely spread, and there always seems to be someone in the high-end districts waiting for me to waltz into a shop or restaurant. Better safe than sorry."

"Why is that?" Hoseok asks, adjusting the mask to fit comfortably over his nose.

Yoongi sighs. "The last thing I need is for the press to see me taking my models out to eat and spread the word that I'm fucking them."

"Because you are," Hoseok mutters. 

"Flirting is not the same as fucking."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and tips his head in Yoongi's direction. His voice is low but challenging as he asks, "How many of them do you fuck, boss?"

It is a shame Yoongi's face is covered; Hoseok would love to see his expression as he says, "Currently, none."

With a hum, Hoseok turns to reach for his seatbelt. He does not believe Yoongi for a second, but he is still happy with the claim. 

"Where are we off to?" Hoseok asks in a far more chipper voice.

Yoongi sighs, turning Hoseok's attention back to him. He has his sunglasses pulled down to the bridge of his nose, and his eyes appear somewhat sad. 

"Look, I'm sorry for kissing you. I should have asked…or…I don't know…refrained."

"Yup," Hoseok responds snarkily.

"But we need to at least pretend things are normal, for the sake of professionality. Otherwise I will not be able to continue having you at M Magazine. I really don't want to let you go, Hoseok."

"Because I'm a good investment. I know."

Another sigh. "Is that really how you feel?"

Hoseok rolls his eyes again, thankful that his expression is hidden, because he suddenly feels dangerously close to crying. He takes his time to think about his response, and then he shrugs. Yoongi is fucking insane if he thinks Hoseok is going to give him an ounce of his dignity.

"I thought we didn't have all day?" he asks, instead.

Yoongi slowly blinks, then says, "We have time for this. If there's something we need to discuss, I can always make time for it."

"Wow, so caring," Hoseok drawls sarcastically. "You're really good at putting on the good boy act when it's just the two of us. How many other models do you do this for?"

Yoongi squints, pushes his sunglasses back into place, and presses the ignition start button. Then he simply asks, "Sushi?"

"Sushi sounds great," Hoseok responds genuinely as he sits back and looks out the windshield, eyes trailing over details he barely registers of vehicles and trees. 

Off they drive. Hoseok spaces out entirely, blocking out everything ahead. Instead, he fights with his own emotions, unsure how he would like to proceed. 

He wants to tease Yoongi, and ultimately break him down. And in order to do so, he knows he needs to drop the snark. But Yoongi has genuinely pissed him off, and it is difficult not to bring it up. 

When the racing thoughts get to be too overwhelming, Hoseok reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. He has Namjoon's number saved from their spa day, and he pulls up his contact.

Hoseok Joon Baboon, this man is driving me insane. Please snitch on your bestie and tell me what he said about The Kiss™. I feel claustrophobic in this car because I don't know what the fuck this man is thinking.

Hoseok assumes Namjoon is still at work, but there is a chance he is between models, or packing up for the day. It is rare for anyone to stay past five, and it is a quarter to five now. 

For good measure, he also sends a text to Jeongguk. He is eager to pick his friend's brain if Jeongguk is willing to talk about his experience with Yoongi. 

Hoseok Ggukieee!!! Drinks later? On me? I'm having a crisis that only you could understand.

He places his phone face down on his leg and patiently waits, staring out the side window at all the tall glass and concrete buildings. This side of the city is where all the money is. Designer shops, high-end restaurants, five-star hotels. 

Yoongi pulls up to a valet stand, takes a deep, slow breath, and shuts the ignition off. Hoseok swallows thickly, wondering if there really might be members of the press lingering around, waiting to photograph his boss – and, by extension, him. 

As soon as Yoongi is out of the car, Hoseok follows suit, unbuckling and slowly opening his door. He has no idea why his heart pounds, and he glances around at his surroundings, noticing the way people stop and take in his appearance. 

"For Min," Yoongi says as he hands the valet attendant his key. 

The attendant bows and Yoongi turns to Hoseok, nods his chin, and walks toward a large glass door. 

Hoseok follows close behind, trying to elongate his steps to accentuate the beautiful garments he wears rather than prance ahead quickly. He feels like royalty in the outfit Namjoon has dressed him in, and he intends to savor each second he spends in it.

Yoongi holds the door open, and Hoseok steps inside. Immediately, he is hit with rich umami and spicy scents, and he stops and waits for Yoongi to step ahead and say, "Two for Min," to the hostess.

"Right this way," she says, leading the two of them through a lavish restaurant furnished in gold, crystal, and jade, with copious amounts of natural lighting. 

She leads them to a section of private booths with tall wooden walls – an area that is much more dim and intimate than the main dining hall – and she points to a booth all the way at the end. There are no other patrons in this area of the restaurant, yet Yoongi only removes his sunglasses once they are seated. 

"The usual?" she asks, and Yoongi turns his attention to Hoseok. 

"I usually get an assortment of sashimi, as well as inari, miso soup, and sake."

"That sounds good," Hoseok mutters, feeling inexplicably shy as he removes his sunglasses and scoots to the center of the booth. 

"The usual, for two," Yoongi nods to the hostess, who bows and walks away. He busies himself with unfolding his napkin and placing it over his lap, and then pulls out his cell phone. 

Hoseok pulls his phone out, as well. And in that moment, it vibrates.

Joon Baboon All he said was that he made a mistake. He feels like he broke your trust and pissed you off, and for that, he feels guilty. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and bites his lip to prevent from smiling. 

Hoseok Is that what this fancy as fuck sushi dinner is about?

Joon Baboon You didn't hear it from me…

Hoseok  The magic words!!! 

Joon Baboon But, yes. 

"About Dior," Yoongi says, causing Hoseok to set his phone down on the booth beside his leg and lift his attention to his boss. "Technically, the contract is over if you are pleased with all we have done. But they have reached out to express interest in having you model the upcoming winter line."

"Oh?" Hoseok perks up and folds his hands over his lap, watching as Yoongi pulls the mask from his mouth and neatly sets it aside. 

Yoongi is devastatingly pretty with his hair wild and curly. Especially with the crisp white shirt, his skin looks petal soft, and his lips have a slight gloss – kissable and sweet. Hoseok hates how quickly one look can make every wall he attempts to build around his heart buckle and crumble to his feet. 

"Cardigans, hoodies, handbags," Yoongi continues, "possibly sneakers. Oh, and they have a grey wide-legged wool pant that I believe you would be particularly stunning in, if that interests you."

Hoseok licks his lips and nods. For once, he has nothing snarky to say, and instead, he sits back and takes a deep breath. More Dior means more time spent with Yoongi acting as his agent. He feels conflicted. 

"Would this be something we begin soon?" Hoseok asks, suddenly feeling antsy and shifting in his seat. "Or would we draw up a new contract?"

Yoongi studies his face, then leans forward with his elbows on the table. "What would you like to do? Continue the current contract and get all of that out of the way, or pause with Dior in order to find representation with a more permanent agent?"

Hoseok gently nibbles on the inside of his lip. He figures he may as well be honest with Yoongi, despite how much he loathes putting his feelings on display.

Luckily for him, a server approaches with a tray of water and sake. Hoseok busies himself with pouring small glasses of sake while the server excuses themself. He can feel Yoongi watching him, and he swallows back his anxiety as best as he can.

"In the event that Dior keeps thirsting for my good looks, I think I would like to find a more permanent agent."

He glances up and sees Yoongi watching him, chin resting against his folded hands.

"S-so, if you wouldn't mind putting me in touch with some," Hoseok continues, pulse quickening the longer Yoongi stares, "I would appreciate it."

"Alright," Yoongi says. "I can set up some interviews for this week."

"Thanks, boss," Hoseok mutters as he slides a soju glass forward.

"Any particular reason you are eager to pay money for representation?" Yoongi asks in a teasing voice as he reaches for his glass before Hoseok has a chance to let it go.

The warm graze of Yoongi's fingers makes Hoseok swallow thickly and pull his hand away. Yoongi's signature smirk is back, and it fills his tummies with butterflies and regret.

"Maybe," is all Hoseok is willing to say. 

 Yoongi hums, then lifts his glass, waiting for Hoseok to lift his, as well. 

"How much sake will it take until you comfortably tell me what's on your mind?" he asks.

Hoseok scoffs, referring to the other night as he says, "At least three bottles."

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow and softly chuckles. They tap their glasses together, and Hoseok shoots the liquid back, savoring the almost buttery quality that shines through the semi-sweet flavor.

"How much will it take for you to be honest about your intentions with me?" Hoseok tries. 

Yoongi lets out a slow exhale. "My intentions are to assist you with finding an agent to represent you for the rest of your brand contracts, and to continue assisting you with putting your best face forward in the hottest magazine in South Korea."

Hoseok hums and licks his lips. He wants to challenge Yoongi further, but he worries that this is not the place for that.

The booth rattles with an incoming text message, and Yoongi's eyes follow the sound, then lift to Hoseok, asking, "You gonna check that?"

Hoseok rolls his eyes and laughs humorlessly to himself, reaching for his phone. "You're insufferable," he mutters under his breath. 

"Well, you aren't willing to speak openly with me," Yoongi quips, "so you may as well entertain yourself somehow."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his cheek as he lifts his phone, sees that it is a message from Jeongguk, and unlocks his screen to read it.

"Do you like wasabi in your soy sauce?" Yoongi asks, and Hoseok flicks his gaze up briefly, annoyed with his sudden change in topic. 

"Sure," he says, dropping his gaze down to his phone. 

Ggukie Bun Drinks sound fun, but idk how much I wanna talk about that man…you'll have to loosen me up quite a bit to get me to spill, hyungie.

He sends a quick response—

Hoseok You got yourself a deal, bunny. I'll hit you up when I'm finished with dinner.

—and slides his phone into his pants pocket before leaning forward with his elbows against the table.

"You want me to talk?" Hoseok challenges, keeping his voice low in case there are people sitting in nearby booths. "Alright, boss, I'll talk about anything you want. Pick my brain, since you're so eager."

Yoongi smirks and the sight alone has Hoseok's frustration reaching an all new high. The audacity of this man to push his buttons so much; he is going to lose his fucking mind. 

Hoseok watches as Yoongi uses his chopsticks to mix a dollop of wasabi into a small square dish that he has poured soy sauce into, eyes glued to his long fingers cradling the black lacquered utensils.

"So, you're saying I don't have to spend eight hundred thousand won on booze to get you to open up?" Yoongi teases as he lays his chopsticks down across an empty dish. 

"Eight hundred—" Hoseok gasps, then looks at the ceramic carafe in the center of the table. "What?"

"I know, one hundred and thirty thousand won is a lot for just one bottle, but I rather like how smooth this one is."

Hoseok chuckles and shakes his head. "You cannot be serious."

Yoongi's voice drops an octave as he leans forward and says, "Don't think I wouldn't spend that kind of money on you, Hoseok. Especially if it gets those pretty lips talking."

All the little hairs on Hoseok's body stand at full attention. He has half a mind to excuse himself to run outside for some fresh air. 

"Pretty lips?" Hoseok asks, instead, unable to hide the tremble in his voice. 

Yoongi's smirk becomes a grin, and there is a devious glimmer in his eyes as he says, "I quite liked the taste of soju on your tongue, but I bet this sake would be even better."

Nervous laughter rocks through Hoseok's chest, and he holds his left hand up and shakes his head, muttering, "Okay, you need to stop."

"Awe, what's the matter, Hoseok?" Yoongi teases.

"I am so fucking serious."

Yoongi sits back, resting his hands on the top of the dark wooden table, and Hoseok allows himself to stare at his short, tidy nails and knobby knuckles. 

"Is that why you no longer want me to be your agent?" Yoongi asks. "Eager for another kiss?"

"Fuck it," Hoseok grumbles to himself as he sits tall, looks Yoongi in the eye, and says, "Yeah. That is why."

Yoongi watches Hoseok, eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips and back up. He appears to have something to say, but for once, is holding back. 

Servers approach with trays of food, starting with the miso soup and inari, then the sashimi. Hoseok thanks the servers, smiles impatiently at Yoongi, and then waits for him to start eating. 

But Yoongi keeps his eyes on Hoseok. He slowly blinks, saying nothing, and Hoseok takes a deep, fortifying breath and says, "Yoongi-ssi, I would like to eat. Please start."

"Sorry," Yoongi utters softly, lifting his burgundy napkin and tucking one corner delicately into the neck of his shirt. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and sits back with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Whatever game Yoongi is playing at, it is wearing him out. 

"I was just thinking," Yoongi says as he reaches for his small bowl of soup and lifts it to his lips. He blows delicately at the broth and says, "Seokjin may have room to represent you."

Hoseok sits forward and reaches for his own small black plastic bowl with red along the rim, and he lifts it to his lips. "Seokjin works as an agent?"

Yoongi sips at his soup and closes his eyes. A smile graces his lips, and Hoseok forgets for a moment how hungry he is – all he can do is stare.

"Seokjin started out as my in-house agent," Yoongi says as his eyelids flutter open. "But then he got bored of dealing with fussy models and slowly transitioned to becoming my assistant. Sorry, my goon."

A hint of a smile tugs at Hoseok's lips before he can stop himself. He has a sip of the miso soup, and the rich, savory broth instantly warms him, sending a chill along his spine as he adjusts to the sudden change in temperature. 

With another salty sip, a small square of tofu glides between his lips and practically melts on his tongue, and Hoseok understands why Yoongi reacts the way he does to savoring this soup. It really is delicious, and the perfect starter to the meal. 

"I'm not sure he would enjoy me, then," Hoseok jokes, holding the bowl close to his lips. Steam rises from the broth, and he enjoys the way it dances over his skin. "I'm pretty fussy."

Yoongi chuckles, shakes his head, and mutters, "You're not that bad," before having another sip. 

Hoseok sets his half-finished soup aside and reaches for his chopsticks. The inari is calling his name, and he reaches for a piece while Yoongi sets his empty soup bowl down, and he dips it rice-side-down into the soy sauce and wasabi.

Although inari is a simple dish of sticky rice tucked inside a soft, fried pocket of bean curd, there is a semi-sweetness to it that, paired with soy and wasabi, is quite delicious. He does his best to only bite the edge of it, leaning over his bowl to catch stray grains of rice that fall. 

He alternates between nibbles of the inari and slices of sashimi, hardly taking his eyes off the table until the meal is nearly finished. Yoongi fills the glasses of sake, and he stands slightly to reach across the table and set Hoseok's close to him. 

With Yoongi hovering over the table, looming over Hoseok, the breath catches in Hoseok's throat. He watches as Yoongi smiles slightly and licks his lips, then settles back in his seat.

"How many models are you regularly kissing and flirting with?" Hoseok asks, reaching for his sake.

Yoongi shakes his head, and mutters, "Hoseok—"

"I'm serious," Hoseok interrupts, sitting tall in his seat. "Whatever it is you're doing with me, I don't want it if this is something you're doing with someone else, too. The rides home and gentle knee touches…all of it. I'm serious."

"I'm not taking anyone else on dinner dates or squeezing anyone else's knee," Yoongi insists. "The only other model I am spending time with is Sunmi, but I am not eager to piss off her partner."

"But if she were single—" Hoseok attempts. 

Yoongi shuts him down, "No, Hoseok." He snickers and reaches for his cup of sake. "Not even if she were single."

Hoseok raises his eyebrow. "You aren't fucking Seori?"

At this, Yoongi chuckles. "Did Namjoon tell on me?" When Hoseok says nothing, he continues, "Seori and I had a fling once."

"When?"

"Months ago."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his mouth. "How many months ago?"

Yoongi lifts his sake and shoots it back, then reaches for the carafe to give himself a refill. "Hoseok, you and I shared one kiss. That hardly gives you grounds to interrogate me."

With a heavy sigh, Hoseok extends his right foot, reaching until he feels the toe of his loafer make gentle contact with the side of Yoongi's leg. Yoongi looks down, then up, and raises an eyebrow.

"You intend to share more than just one kiss with me," Hoseok challenges, scooting forward and rubbing his toe higher. "Don't you?"

Yoongi swallows visibly. "This is hardly appropriate behavior to conduct with your boss, Hoseok."

"You started it," Hoseok says plainly, dancing the edge of his shoe against Yoongi's knee. "Call Seokjin. Ask him to represent me."

Yoongi dances his tongue between his teeth as he watches Hoseok. Then he rolls his eyes, reaches one hand below the table, and grazes his fingertips over the joint of Hoseok's ankle. Despite it being a light, innocuous touch, Hoseok's exhale comes out a bit shaky, and he sets down his neglected cup of sake. 

"What is it that you want, exactly?" Yoongi asks. 

He scoots forward, causing Hoseok's shoe to graze his inner thigh. And despite how unaffected Yoongi seems by the movement, Hoseok's heart pounds at the thought. 

"I don't know," Hoseok lies, taking a deep breath and stretching his leg forward. 

Hoseok can feel the moment the toe of his shoe very lightly grazes Yoongi's crotch. Yoongi's lips gently part, and Hoseok knows he must look ridiculous with his mouth hanging halfway open, but it is the only way he can hope to breathe; the air feels far thicker than it had moments ago. 

"You don't know?" Yoongi challenges, scooting forward again. 

The bottom of Hoseok's loafer presses firmly against Yoongi's crotch, and at the same time, both men gasp. Yoongi's eyelids flutter ever so slightly while Hoseok's mouth and eyes widen. 

Yoongi tips his head to the side and asks, "Then what are you doing?"

"Fucking with you," Hoseok mutters before he can stop himself. "Wanted to see how far I could push you."

"Ah," Yoongi responds, resting a hand against Hoseok's shoe while the other pushes the hem of his pants upward to gently grab his ankle, skin against skin. "Well, you have yet to reach your limit."

A server approaches, and Hoseok instinctively attempts to yank his leg away, but Yoongi holds his foot in place with one hand while tugging the napkin from where it is tucked into his shirt and draping it over Hoseok's shoe. 

"Is there anything more I can bring you tonight?" the server asks, glancing between Yoongi, Hoseok, and what is left of their meal. 

"One more bottle should be good," Yoongi says, leaning forward and pressing himself against the sole of Hoseok's shoe while grabbing the sake carafe to give it a shake. 

There seems to be liquid inside, and Yoongi reaches with his other hand, silently asking Hoseok for his cup. 

"One more bottle coming right up," the server says as they turn to walk away. 

Hoseok watches Yoongi, feeling trapped in place and dumbfounded, foot lodged between Yoongi's thighs. 

"Cup?" Yoongi asks, making Hoseok heavy-blink and reach for his sake.

Hoseok slams back the drink, sighing through the sudden onslaught of very tasty liquid. He holds his cup out toward Yoongi, cradling it delicately in the fingers of both hands while Yoongi fills it with more clear sake.

He fills his own cup next, sets down the carafe, and lifts the cup. "To finding you an agent," he says with a grin.

Hoseok lifts his cup and nods, then shoots the liquid back. He reaches for the carafe, but Yoongi tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth, insisting on being the one to handle it. 

By the time the server returns, the sake is gone, and a new carafe is set between them. Yoongi does not seem to notice the fact that Hoseok's shoe is still in place between his legs, and Hoseok makes no move to drop it. 

"Ah, right," Yoongi says after pouring them another glass. "I forgot that I have business to attend to."

Hoseok watches as Yoongi pulls out his phone, tipping his head to the side curiously. 

Yoongi thumbs around, then holds the phone to his ear, eyes on Hoseok as he smiles and says, "Seokjin…might I ask you for a favor?"

* * *

The second round of sake renders the two of them unable to swing by Dior and peruse their winter line. Or, perhaps the game of footsie distracted them from their goal. Likely, it is a combination of both. 

Hoseok opts not to get dropped off at home first, which is a mistake. Jeongguk is already at their favorite dive bar, and he watches as Hoseok gets out of Yoongi's vehicle, undoubtedly clocking the way he stumbles as his legs remember how to walk. 

To make matters worse, Yoongi must notice Hoseok wave to Jeongguk, who sits directly behind where Hoseok stands, on a rickety metal chair on the bar patio, smoking a cigarette while wearing a skin-tight black shirt tucked into baggy black pants. 

"You know him?" Yoongi asks, turning back to Hoseok, who pats his pockets down to make sure he has everything, standing beside the open passenger door. Yoongi wears the mask over his mouth, but his eyes are visible.

"I do," Hoseok says. "Why? Do you?"

Yoongi studies Hoseok briefly, then says, "He looks like someone I've photographed before."

"Interesting!" Hoseok chirps, drawing out the syllables.

"Something tells me you already know about this," Yoongi grumbles somewhat defensively. 

Hoseok grins, sarcastically asking, "No…why would you think that?"

"Drink water," Yoongi says with a hint of concern that breaks through the annoyance in his eyes, clearly eager to change the topic and leave. "And text me if you need a ride home."

Hoseok sighs and waves Yoongi off, muttering, "I can take care of myself," then he closes the door and stumbles onto the sidewalk, giggling as he nearly trips over his own feet. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jeongguk grumbles as Hoseok approaches.

Hoseok is definitely more than tipsy, but he blames his giddiness for his inability to function properly. Seokjin had agreed over the phone to represent Hoseok, meaning once they sign a new contract, Hoseok will feel more confident to pursue his pretty boss. 

He also felt Yoongi become rock-hard under his shoe, but that is a detail he does his best to block out for the time being. That one he will unpack later, once he is home alone. 

"Business dinner," Hoseok responds, doing his best to act sober. He plops himself down in a chair across from Jeongguk and sighs dramatically, wishing he had a glass of water.

"Business dinner?" Jeongguk parrots incredulously. "Dressed like that? Stumbling around drunk? Be serious. I thought you were in crisis mode?"

"I am in peak crisis mode," Hoseok insists. "And anyway, Namjoon dressed me like this. Doesn't he have good taste."

"Namjoon," Jeongguk says in a dreamy tone, lips tugging into a smile. "Should have let him rail me, instead. He was way nicer."

"I bet you still could," Hoseok mutters, fighting the urge to take out his phone and text Namjoon to ask if he would be interested.

Jeongguk looks out into the distance, doe eyes bright and shining. Then he shrugs, and says, "Maybe some other time," and sits back, taking a drag of his diminishing cigarette. "So, what did you want to discuss?"

"Well, Ggukie, I was wondering if you would be open to telling me about what happened between you and my boss."

Jeongguk takes a sharp inhale of nicotine and holds it in. Then he shakes his head and blows a plume of smoke out toward the street. "Nah. Too sober."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and stands up quickly, holding his hand out to Jeongguk while saying, "Let's fix that."

* * *

Two bars and several rounds of shots later, Jeongguk and Hoseok are sitting on the couch in the back of some dingy neighborhood haunt that only people in their mid-twenties seem to patronize. Hoseok has his legs up on a low, wooden table on which neglected pint glasses of water sit creating rings of condensation around their bases, and Jeongguk has his legs draped over Hoseok's lap.

"It was just little shit at first, you know?" Jeongguk mutters, eyes half-squinted in part because there are several bright neon beer signs just to the right of Hoseok's head giving off a greenish-blueish glow. 

Hoseok nods.

"Little touches here and there, using pet names and favoritism, asking me to come to his office, inviting me to his studio. He took it slow at first, as if to suss out whether I was interested. But of course I was interested. I mean, you've fucking seen him."

Hoseok nods a little more emphatically; he absolutely has seen him.

"But then he got really assertive, pressing against me in his office, muttering shit like," Jeongguk's voice drops to a low, mocking octave, "we shouldn't be doing this, and, you drive me crazy, and, I can't keep my hands off you."

Hoseok remembers Yoongi cornering him in the makeup room. But you understand why we can’t do that, yes?

"Then one thing led to another, and he had me draped over the couch of his studio with his tongue in my ass."

"Oh my god," Hoseok mutters, in part because he was not expecting this conversation to veer into this territory so abruptly and in part because he has sat on that couch several times!

Jeongguk says nothing more, only stares ahead as if whatever he is searching for is lightyears away. 

"So…" Hoseok attempts, "then what?"

With a loud sigh, Jeongguk says, "Then we started fucking. Often. At his place, in his office, in the restroom at a fancy sushi spot."

"Oh my god," Hoseok mutters once more, eyes widening while staring out at the busy bar but not looking at anything in particular. "He took me to a fancy sushi spot."

"I've never had someone so eager to make me cum, like…god, the shit that man does. I pretty much stayed prepped and ready to bottom at all times."

"He was always in control?" Hoseok asks.

"Always. And it was amazing until it wasn't. Some girl named Seori was hired and he dropped me like a sweet potato."

Hoseok frowns, turning his gaze to Jeongguk. "Awe, Ggukie. Not a sweet potato."

Jeongguk nods slowly, nibbling on the inside of his mouth. "I know I shouldn't have taken it personally, but it was…it was a lot. He always said he wasn't into relationships but it was hard not wanting more from someone who made me feel so good."

Hoseok heavy-blinks, gazing around the bar, at people standing and sitting, talking and shouting about this or that. He idly traces his fingertips over the hems of Jeongguk's baggy jeans, trying to sort out what he should do. 

On the one hand, he really wants to try to make Yoongi hand over control and grovel for him. But he also feels sad for his friend.

Jeongguk seems to have gotten lost in his mind again, and Hoseok is no better. He still has so many questions, but it is hard to pull any one of them coherently to the surface. 

Finally, Jeongguk sits up straight, removing his legs from Hoseok's lap while muttering, "I think I'm going to venture out and find a sweet potato vendor."

"Okay," Hoseok says, mind still swirling with all the new information. He is definitely drunk enough to call it a night, but he also considers joining Jeongguk on his quest. "Yeah, okay, I think I would also like a sweet potato."

As Hoseok and Jeongguk venture out into the night, the details of events become foggy. He stumbles down the sidewalk for an indeterminate amount of time, and suddenly he is at a food cart, pulling notes from his wallet in exchange for a piping hot, foil-wrapped sweet potato. 

Next, he is at a small metal table sitting next to Jeongguk, typing a haphazard text message to Namjoon that reads, Eating a sweet potato and thinking of you. Because you are semi-sweet and also thicc. You and Jeongguk would make a cute couple btw!

Then he is shivering, still at the same small table, answering a phone call from Yoongi. He hugs his arms around himself tight while Jeongguk stumbles off into the night, toward his apartment two blocks away – also in the direction Hoseok lives. 

"You sure you don't need a ride?" Yoongi asks, voice deep and caring. 

"I'm like three blocks away," Hoseok insists, getting up to stumble in the direction of his drunk friend. "It would take you longer to come to me than it would take me to walk there."

Yoongi hums. “At least stay on the phone with me while you walk?”

Hoseok grins, ignoring the fluttering of his heart as he mutters, “Geez, obsessed with me, much?”

"Excuse me for caring," Yoongi responds, sounding somewhat affronted.

Hoseok chuckles and walks slowly, watching his feet meet brick, attempting but failing to step on as few cracks as possible. He smiles and says, "I don't know, I'm drunk enough that I might start saying regrettable things."

There is a pause, followed by, "Such as…?"

"Such as that I know you used to fuck my friend," Hoseok giggles, squeezing his eyes closed for a second because he knows he must have pushed Yoongi's buttons. "He told me all about your moves, Yoongi, and how you pretty much used the same formula that you're using with me. Which begs the question…which cute newcomer will take my spot, and how long do I have before I'm dropped like a hot little sweet potato?"

The sigh on the other end of the line is so audible, Hoseok can picture the downturn in Yoongi's eyes and the way his lips slightly frown while he is thinking. 

When he says nothing, Hoseok continues, "See, I warned you," dragging each vowel out dramatically.

"And what would you like me to say, Hoseok? Shall I call Jeongguk and apologize to him?"

"Nah," Hoseok responds, glancing up at brick buildings, pleased that he is still stumbling the correct way. "That would just piss him off."

Ahead, Jeongguk has stopped to lean against a tree and light a cigarette, and Hoseok makes note of the way his flat tummy curves from the way he stands slightly hunched over before his hips are swallowed whole by baggy jeans. He pictures Yoongi's large hands pressing on those hips, and the way Jeongguk must have gasped so sweetly. 

Then, Hoseok shakes his head, attempting to dispel the thought; he needs to get laid.

"But you have some reason for bringing this up?" Yoongi asks. 

With a sigh, Hoseok says, "I just hate to think my days are numbered. It's exciting to have caught your attention, but it seems," he drags the word out playfully, "that your attention is fleeting."

"We can talk about this when we're both sober," Yoongi mutters lowly.

Not wanting Jeongguk to overhear Hoseok talking to Yoongi, he stops in his tracks. Sadness sweeps over him, and his body undulates like overcooked pasta ever so slightly in place. Although the sweet potato has bought him a little time before blacking out, he is still quite drunk.

"Are we doing anything productive tomorrow?" Hoseok whines. "These last few days of random shoots have felt pointless, and…I might throw up."

"You might throw up tonight from being drunk, or tomorrow from being bored?" Yoongi clarifies. 

"Honestly…" Hoseok screws up his face, thinking it over. "Both."

Yoongi chuckles. "I can't believe my top model is calling in sick because he was out drinking all night."

Hoseok is quick to push the blame. "You got me drunk first!"

Yoongi laughs, and it is a pretty, rich deep melody that causes Hoseok to sway. Then he says, "Seok…you know tomorrow is Saturday, right?"

Relief washes over Hoseok, and he nearly stumbles to his knees. "Oh, thank god."

"I would like to see you briefly, tomorrow, though," Yoongi adds. "If you are available. Seokjin would like to iron out a contract and have everything set in stone as quickly as possible so that he can move forward with your next round of Dior shoots. We can meet up in the evening, if you prefer?"

Ahead, Jeongguk has continued to walk home, so Hoseok continues, as well. 

"Were these random ass shoots just your excuse to keep seeing me?" Hoseok asks coyly. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi drawls, making Hoseok inhale deeply as a tingle works over his body from the sound. He hums in response, and Yoongi continues, "Please stay on topic. Will you be available to sign the contract tomorrow?"

Hoseok grins. "Only if you can admit that you kept me around this week just to see me."

"I would rather talk about my feelings for you once we are sober and you have that contract with Seokjin signed."

"Your feelings for me," Hoseok mutters, mostly to himself. 

There is a pause, followed by Yoongi asking, "Are you home yet?"

Hoseok stares at the silhouettes of trees and square buildings ahead, the darkness broken by glowing street lamps. "One more block,"

"I could have picked you up by now."

Hoseok sighs. "You totally could not have. And anyway, I wanted to walk."

"Were you dishonest about how far the walk is? Or are you having a more leisurely stroll than usual?"

"Jeongguk stopped ahead and I didn't want to catch up to him while on the phone with you."

Yoongi sighs. "How long have you known that Jeongguk and I have a past?"

In far too chipper of a tone, Hoseok says, "Since the day I was hired."

Yoongi says nothing, and Hoseok wishes he could see his expression. At this point, he is too intoxicated to care whether he could be pushing Yoongi away. He still believes that no matter what, he will have a shot at fucking him at least once. 

It is not as if Hoseok has any interest in pursuing anything more with him. 

"Almost there," Hoseok chirps. He has a pep in his step now that his building is in view. It feels like ages since he has taken a nice hot shower, and he desperately wants to wash his face. "Oh, Hey, boss?"

Yoongi hums.

"Do you need this outfit back? Can you, like…deduct it from my paycheck, or something? Namjoon really put his babussy into this fit, and I might want to wear it again."

With a sigh, Yoongi mutters, "It's yours. Keep it."

"Thanks, boss. But how much do you think—"

"I'm not charging you for it, Hoseok. You're correct that it suits you well. Keep it."

Hoseok's cheeks warm, and he grins, raising his shoulders to his ears with glee and dropping them down. He makes his voice as soft as possible as he says, "Thanks, boss. You're too sweet."

Yoongi grunts, making Hoseok quietly laugh to himself. Either he has struck a nerve with Yoongi, the man is very tired, or both. 

"Alright, I'm walking up to the front door of my building. I'm home safe. You don't need to stay on the line any longer."

"Hoseok," Yoongi says, making him stop with his hand lifted to the knob, key dangling between his fingers. "Tomorrow, will you come discuss a new contract with Seokjin and I?"

"Oh," he mutters, sliding his key into the knob and twisting it open. "Yeah. Tomorrow evening is fine."

"Wonderful. I'll bring a lawyer along so that we can get everything finalized quickly."

Hoseok makes his way to the stairwell, slowly taking each step. "And then we'll celebrate?"

A pause, then, "How would you like to celebrate, Hoseok?"

Hoseok hums, making a show of the fact that he is giving this matter very serious thought, despite only one thing running through his head. 

"A kiss," he finally says, biting his lip as he shuffles down the hallway to his door. The closer he gets to his apartment, the heavier his limbs feel. 

"Alright," Yoongi grumbles, making Hoseok grin. "I will kiss you to celebrate."

Hoseok punches his code into the keypad beside his door, and when it clicks open, he lets out a long, happy sigh. Home at last.

"I'm in my apartment now. Gonna strip out of these clothes and take a nice, hot shower."

Yoongi makes no sound, so Hoseok continues. 

"Maybe while I'm in there, I'll think about earlier, at the restaurant, with my foot pressed between your legs."

Yoongi sighs, and Hoseok steps from his shoes, feeling victorious. 

"I felt how hard you got under my toes. You liked it, boss."

"I did," Yoongi admits, voice low. 

"I liked it, too."

"Yeah?" 

Hoseok shrugs out of the blazer and delicately drapes it over the back of his couch, then he balances the phone between his ear and shoulder as he begins to unbuckle his belt. 

"Yeah. The way your lips parted and eyes widened, so faint and so eager to hold your pleasure in. Beautiful."

"I could say the same for you," Yoongi responds, voice breathy. Hoseok wonders if he is touching himself. "I saw how affected you became."

"I want to see you like that when you're not having to hold back," Hoseok practically moans. "I want to make you unravel."

Yoongi hums and Hoseok holds his breath, waiting for whatever delicious thing he may have to offer. 

But then he says, "We should talk about this when we're sober."

With a sigh, Hoseok's body feels worn and heavy; his spirits feel dashed. 

"You're right," he mutters. "Good night, boss."

"See you tomorrow, Hoseok."

Hoseok lowers the phone from his ear, grumbling, "See ya," as he hangs up.

* * *

Despite the joyous occasion, Yoongi behaves rather coldly. 

At first, Hoseok chalks it up to the fact that Seokjin and a lawyer are present to draw a new contract for his modeling representation. The document is straightforward; Seokjin insists on taking almost no money from Hoseok for his services, citing that he makes more than enough being Yoongi's personal goon – a word he says playfully, with a wink. 

They discuss long-term plans that stretch further than Hoseok's employment with M Magazine, should he move on to other publications, and everything feels official and exciting in a way Hoseok hasn't experienced since he graduated from college as a fresh face getting scouted by seedy, desperate photographers and art directors. 

But even as they bow to the lawyer and bid him farewell, there is something sour looming over Yoongi, like a bitter little stormcloud threatening to burst at any moment and become everyone else's problem. Seokjin even nudges him, attempting to crack jokes, but he rarely smiles, and he hardly makes eye contact with Hoseok. 

It feels like whiplash after how playful he was last night, and Hoseok hovers around the sofa, not feeling welcome enough to sit, but not sure whether he should leave. Until finally, Yoongi stretches and yawns, and Hoseok sees that as an opening. 

"Well, you're tired," he says, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his pressed, black fitted slacks. "I'm tired, as well. So I think I'll head out."

"Yah, Hoseokah!" Seokjin barks. "We should celebrate!"

A yawn works its way from Hoseok's chest, and he lifts his hand to cover his mouth. Seokjin flinches away as if he is at risk of catching some kind of virus from a yawn and frowns.

"We could schedule something for next weekend," he suggests. "Or whenever all of us are free."

"All of us are free right now," Seokjin insists. "Yoongichi, you don't have any extravagant dates planned, do you?"

Yoongi shakes his head, but his eyes are glued to his phone. He seems stressed out, and frankly, it annoys Hoseok. It feels rude to build up his excitement to see him this evening, only for him to act completely indifferent to Hoseok's presence.

"Why don't we all go out to celebrate once Seokjin and I have our first round of Dior shoots under our belt?" Hoseok recommends. 

Yoongi nods, eyes never leaving his phone, and Seokjin sighs but agrees. 

"Alright, sounds like a plan."

"Cool," Hoseok says, nodding listlessly, "then I'm going to head out."

Finally, Yoongi lifts his head to look at Hoseok fully. And for a split, brief, teeny tiny moment, Hoseok thinks Yoongi might finally be direct with him. But then his eyes fall back to his phone as he grumbles, "I'm glad the three of us could sort this out."

"Need a ride?" Seokjin asks. 

Hoseok shrugs but happily says, "I would appreciate it."

Seokjin approaches Yoongi and mutters something lowly before giving him a slap on the shoulder, which Yoongi more or less seems to ignore. Then he makes his way to the door, where Hoseok trails along to slide into the pretty black loafers he wore just last night. 

Hoseok does not say goodbye to Yoongi, and when they step into the elevator, he lets out a sigh.

"I hate when he gets preoccupied," Seokjin complains. 

Hoseok chuckles. "It's honestly pretty rude."

Hoseok pulls out his phone and sends Yoongi a message—

Hoseok The way you hardly looked at me tonight is absolutely crazy. I no longer want that celebratory kiss.

—then tucks the device into his pocket. He does not expect a response to come any time soon.

"I love him, and he's a great businessman, but he is kind of an idiot," Seokjin says, making Hoseok laugh. "He has no fucking interpersonal communication skills."

It feels good to laugh, and Hoseok does not hold back. He bends in half, gripping his knees as the cords of his untied black, silk modern hanbok hang past his knees. He has to apologize to someone once the doors slide open and he steps forward, nearly barreling into them.

"Geez, it's not that funny," Seokjin complains despite still laughing.

"Oh, it definitely is," Hoseok insists as they make their way out into the evening. 

* * *

Hoseok does not hear from Yoongi for the rest of the night while he is out with his friends at the club, nor the entirety of Sunday while he is letting Jimin distract him with brunch and shopping. 

And by Monday morning, when there is still no word, Hoseok decides he no longer cares. He has a shoot later in the morning with Yoongi, and he begrudgingly gets out of bed and goes through his routine as if it were a standard early morning, with the plan of stopping by his favorite cafe for a sweet treat and a latte.

The weather is hot but not stifling, and Hoseok wears the same flowing black silk modern hanbok top he wore to Yoongi's place on Saturday, untied over a tight black tank top and mid-length, black wool shorts. And, of course, his favorite new chunky black leather loafers. He tucks his phone, keys, wallet, and lip balm into a small black handbag and sets out for the day with a forced smile. 

And truthfully, the cafe trip does wonders for the residual sour mood Yoongi had put Hoseok in, leaving him in a much more positive headspace. That is until he arrives at the studio. 

The familiar sights and sounds are like a weight on Hoseok's shoulders, but he holds his head high and makes a beeline through the expansive studio space to his sanctuary. The makeup room. 

Upon entering, Hoseok finds Seokjin and Namjoon standing by a metal rack of clothing, sifting through outfits. He sets his coffee down on the long vanity counter by the mirror wall and prances over to see what they have in store for him. 

"Yoongi wants us to start with this," Seokjin says as he pulls out a charcoal grey blazer and matching slacks.

Hoseok wonders if this is the grey wide-legged pant that Yoongi said he thinks Hoseok will look stunning in. He rolls his eyes at the memory, then smiles widely as he chirps, "Looks great, Jinnie-hyung!"

It takes no time at all for Namjoon to have Hoseok dressed in the grey suit with his hair slicked back and his face made up. By now, they have the process down to a science; Hoseok hardly has a chance to get comfortable in the makeup chair. 

They opt not to pair the outfit with jewelry, but Hoseok wears black and white sneakers that he is not a fan of for this type of outfit. This look is currently all the rage with these high-end brands, and does not understand why.

"I'll let Yoongichi know we're ready for him," Seokjin says as he leaves the room, and Hoseok gives a thumbs-up.

"Wow, so Seokjin-hyung is your agent?" Namjoon asks. 

Hoseok swivels around in his tall, black chair and smiles widely. "Yeah! I'm excited. He seems very knowledgeable and dedicated, and he doesn't want to take all my earnings."

"Of course, he doesn't," Namjoon chuckles. "The co-founder of M Magazine undoubtedly makes a pretty penny."

"Co-founder?" Hoseok asks, shocked. "Yoongi only mentioned he was previously an agent and then shifted gears to work as his assistant goon."

Namjoon shrugs. "Seokjin-hyung has always done a little of everything, with the exception of photography. He has an eye for beauty and design, but prefers the more tedious duties that come with being an assistant. I think he likes being useful. And he tends to feign modesty, which is why nobody refers to him as the co-founder."

That checks out, and Hoseok nods. "Well, I am glad I have a use for him. Gotta get to stardom somehow!"

"Trust me," Namjoon says, leaning close. "You will."

Hoseok visibly swoons, causing Namjoon to lean away with regret painted on his face. "You're the sweetest, Joon Baboon!"

A deep, impassive voice cuts through the joy, with one simple word.

"Ready?"

Hoseok turns to find Yoongi standing in the doorway dressed in a white blazer unbuttoned over a white dress shirt, with matching white shorts, tall black socks, and black loafers. His hair is slicked back, combed behind his ears, there is a pair of black glasses tucked into the neck of his shirt, and he wears a scowl on his pretty face. His trusty camera is in his hand, strap wrapped around his wrist, and his eyebrows are raised high with impatience. 

"Sure thing," Hoseok says flatly, mood instantly killed. 

He slides from his chair and follows Yoongi out, into the studio, to the corner where he prefers to shoot, near the bottom of the steps that lead up to his office.

There is nothing for Hoseok to pose on or near, so he just stands against the dark backdrop, angling his body and elongating his neck and limbs. Yoongi shoots quickly, stepping back and moving forward, eye glued to the viewfinder. 

When he finally does glance over the camera, it is to say, "Give me a little movement, like a twirl but with one foot kicking outward."

Hoseok does some twirls and kicks, accentuating the loose cut of the slacks and doing his best to embody fluidity. He feels as if these shots will be magnificent, and he waits for Yoongi to crack a smile and tell him he is doing well. 

But instead, Yoongi drops his hands to his sides and says, "That's good," then he lifts his camera high enough to begin sifting through the photos. 

On the breast of Yoongi's jacket is a pretty white flower that stands out in the bright glow of the box lights, and Hoseok curses himself for wanting to rub his palms across it, heavy-blinking to avert his eyes.

"New outfit?" Hoseok asks. 

Yoongi shrugs. "If you have time for more, sure."

"If I have time?" Hoseok bites back. "I've barely been here for an hour."

Yoongi continues to flip through photos, making Hoseok wonder if he heard him at all. Then he says, "Yeah, whatever your agent wants," and walks off. 

"What the fuck," Hoseok mutters under his breath as he turns and stomps back toward the makeup room. This behavior has him wishing he would have stepped on Yoongi's balls a little harder at the sushi restaurant. 

Seokjin already has outfits laid out when Hoseok returns, and he is changed into more casual wear, sporting an array of hoodies, cardigans, and handbags. Yoongi is just as standoffish, giving Hoseok almost nothing to work with, but he continues to change shirts and pose, doing his best. 

And then, suddenly, Yoongi's phone rings loud and shrill, making everyone but himself flinch. He sighs and stops what he is doing, muttering, "One moment, sorry."

Yoongi's phone is typically always on vibrate while at work, and he absolutely never drops everything to answer the call. How uncouth, Hoseok thinks, standing under the warm lights with his hands on his hips while Yoongi walks several paces away, talking lowly into his phone.

As soon as he returns, Yoongi mutters, "Something has come up, but it seems like we shot everything we need. Thanks for everything. Great job today." He only spares Hoseok a quick glance, and then he turns to walk up the stairs to his office. 

Hoseok sighs, nods to himself, and begins back toward the makeup room. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Seori rushes in through the front doors of the building, dressed in a light pink hoodie and sweatpants and looking frazzled. She makes a beeline for the steps and runs to the top, where she quickly knocks but does not bother to wait before walking into Yoongi's office and closing the door behind her. 

The feeling that swirls in Hoseok's tummy is envy mixed with something else – something even more bitter. Something numbing. He can't quite put his thumb on it, but he chooses not to dwell on it. 

Until he enters the makeup room with a heavy sigh, and – upon realizing only Namjoon is present – begins to crumble emotionally. Despite feeling the desire to cry, tears only prickle gently around the edges of his lids but never fully gather. More than anything, he just feels defeated.

"I didn't follow your advice, okay," he admits, taking Namjoon somewhat by surprise as he throws himself on the makeup chair. "I should go home. I need to clear my head. I feel so—"

"What happened?" Namjoon asks kindly, approaching with his arms loosely crossed over his chest. 

"You warned me about that man, and I listened! I really did! But my heart and my body did not, and now I feel like I am a marionette hanging from strings eager for a master. But rather than tug on my strings and make me dance, he just fucking leaves me hanging."

"That's…a beautifully pathetic analogy," Namjoon mutters, dimples on display. 

Hoseok attempts to swat at the handsome man, but Namjoon simply leans slightly back, avoiding his fingertips. 

"I don't even care about being in a relationship with him," Hoseok mutters somewhat under his breath. "Like, I'm foolish, but I'm not that stupid. I just…ugh! He…ugh!"

Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head. It is not the laugh of a man who wants Hoseok to feel foolish, but one of a man who has likely had this conversation this time and time again.

"He charms in his own way," Namjoon says. "And then he puts up a wall when he thinks he is getting close to someone. It's like he's terrified of just allowing himself to open up to people."

"Why?" Hoseok sighs.

Namjoon shrugs. "No idea. There's no shocking character reveal or tragic backstory, you know? Yeah, his parents are wealthy and they don't hover, but they are kind and supportive. His relationship with his brother is casual and positive. Aside from his playboy tendencies, he is a great person to work with, and a great person to work for. No gambling problems, no drinking problems, no sordid past. He just…doesn't like to commit to anyone."

Another sigh pours from Hoseok's mouth, this one drawn out with a groan. He drops his head back dramatically, feeling extra annoyed – exorbitantly annoyed. 

Hoseok finds nothing inherently wrong with having commitment issues or with preferring to sleep around without strings attached. He and his friend group have always been pretty loose with hooking up, and it has never caused drama because they all know where they stand with one another. 

But it is frustrating that the result is a lack of empathy and poor communication. Hoseok is fine with being someone's piece of ass on the down low, but he needs to know where he stands. And it annoys Hoseok that, rather than finding a reason to hate Yoongi and make the idea of backing away from him feel easier, he really sympathizes with the guy. 

Hoseok laughs to himself, despite feeling little joy. "If he wanted to just fuck around, I wouldn't even object. And I have been rather forward with suggesting I am open to it, but he just clams up and doesn't say anything."

"Mmhmm," Namjoon grumbles in a tone that suggests he knows this all too well.

"Whatever," Hoseok sighs. "We did well today, and although he was the opposite of helpful or encouraging, I feel good about the shoots. So I suppose I could call it a day."

Namjoon nods and seems to glance at the time on his phone. "Seokjin left during the last shoot – said he had some important business to deal with – but he asked me to tell you that you are amazing, and doing great, and that he looks forward to going over the photos with you and Yoongi. He also says to take some time off and he will contact you with a schedule some time this week."

This time, the sigh that Hoseok lets out is one of relief. Relief to have an agent who is receptive and feels positively about the work they are doing. Relief to have some time off to relax, pamper himself, and get some fucking space from Yoongi. 

He changes back into his black tank top, silk hanbok top, shorts, and loafers. With his arms hanging open, he convinces Namjoon to lean in for a semi-awkward hug, and thanks him for all his hard work. Then he opens that door with a fortifying breath and sets out toward the front doors, eager to get home and unwind. 

The studio is quiet, with only one photographer and model on set in the far left corner. Hoseok does not even look their way, eager to reach the sliding glass doors. And he almost does, before he hears a familiar voice call for him.

"Jung Hoseok-ssi."

Hoseok physically recoils from the sound, closing his eyes to take a deep, annoyed breath. He was so close to making it outside – just a couple more feet from freedom. 

With a plastered smile, Hoseok spins, asking, "Yes, boss?" as he searches for the source of the voice. 

Yoongi stands at the top of the stairs, arms straight down at his sides. He asks, "Do you have a moment?" 

Hoseok nods and makes his way through the large studio space, heart betraying him in a frantic dance the closer he gets. He wonders if there will be any visible trace of Seori on Yoongi's skin or any lingering scent of perfume. 

With each footfall up to Yoongi's office, Hoseok feels his body undergo more and more duress. His legs and hands tremble, his palms begin to prickle, his breathing feels labored. Yoongi turns and enters his office as Hoseok gets close, and once he reaches the top, he takes a fortifying inhale. 

"Yes?" Hoseok asks, attempting to come off as impassively as possible.

"Close the door, please," Yoongi says, making his way toward his desk.

Hoseok closes the door and gives himself a second to collect his composure before turning toward Yoongi and approaching. He expects to find Yoongi sitting at his chair, but instead, he is on the corner of his desk, half-sitting with one foot suspended somewhat, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"I owe you an apology," Yoongi says. His hair is all in place, and there is no sign on his clothing or skin that might suggest anything transpired with Seori. 

Still, Hoseok scoffs, nods, and says, "Yeah, you do." 

"I understand that sometimes my behavior can be a bit…" Yoongi takes a moment to choose his words, and Hoseok opts to fill in the blank for him. 

"Confusing. Frustrating. Demeaning."

"Distant," Yoongi provides.

"Distant," Hoseok parrots with a humorless chuckle. "Sure, yeah, that's certainly one way to put it."

There is sincerity in his rich tone as Yoongi drops his arms to his sides and says, "I'm sorry." 

"You could have at least sent a reassuring text message. Or even an apology. Any kind of communication at all."

"My distracted state the other night was nothing personal, but I should have given you a heads up that I had a lot on my plate."

"The other night, all weekend, all day," Hoseok corrects, allowing himself to feel the full range of his anger. "Not one word. You gave me nothing."

Yoongi sighs and slowly stands, remaining leaned against his desk. 

"And, look, I don't feel like you owe me an explanation," Hoseok says, eager to make his desires clear. "But a simple heads up would be nice. I know that you and I are not an item, and I don't care that we aren't – that's not my goal with you. But don't let me play footsie with your cock under the table and tease me with promises of a kiss, but then give me the cold shoulder."

Something in Yoongi's gaze shifts – darkens. His lips part, and his stance relaxes. 

"So what is it that you want?" Yoongi asks.

"Truthfully?" Hoseok says, and Yoongi nods. "More than anything, I want a healthy work relationship. I want to excel in my field and become a supermodel, and I know that you and your team have the means to do that for me."

Yoongi nods, cracking a smile, filling Hoseok with pride and encouraging him to continue voicing his desires. "I also want to lay you out on your big, expensive desk, and fuck your brains out."

Yoongi's lips part wide in a gasp. It is subtle the way blush rises to his pretty cheeks, but even in the dim light of his office, Hoseok can make out a shift in hue.

"I'm not interested in having strings attached," Yoongi says with the lift of an eyebrow as if in warning. 

"No shit," Hoseok scoffs, holding firm, challenging eye contact. 

They stare at each other unmoving for only a few seconds, but those seconds drag on, thickening the air with rich, palpable tension. Hoseok slowly breathes in through his nose, allowing himself to dwell on the familiar musky and floral notes that cling to the air and drive him wild. 

"Come here," Yoongi commands softly, nearly a whisper. 

As if tugged by some invisible force, Hoseok stumbles forward automatically. Yoongi's thighs spread, allowing Hoseok to get nice and close, standing taller than usual with Yoongi's hips bending slightly. 

Hoseok sets his handbag down on the desk and looms, drinking in the heat exchanged between them. Whereas Yoongi had the upper hand last time – pulling Hoseok near, slotting their lips together, and pressing him into the wall – this time, Hoseok intends on giving him zero control. 

"Tell me what you want from me," Hoseok says, placing his hands on the edges of the desk and leaning close enough to smell the sweetness of Yoongi's breath. 

Yoongi's eyes fall to Hoseok's lips, and he very subtly smiles, saying, "I still owe you a kiss."

"You want to kiss me?"

Yoongi's lips twitch faintly. "Yes."

"Is that all?" Hoseok asks, tilting his head to the side as if giving into the command but keeping the miniscule distance between them. 

"I want you, Hoseok." Yoongi's rich timbre is as deep and alluring as the ocean, and undoubtedly posing just as big of a threat. "Physically…in any way you will allow me to have you…I want you."

"If I let you have me," Hoseok says softly, annunciating every syllable with purpose, "I need at least a little communication. No fucking around with my feelings. Even without strings attached, I still have feelings, Yoongi."

Hoseok drops honorifics, wondering if Yoongi will care, and Yoongi just nods, eyes pleading. He seems genuine, but he has also seemed genuine in the past. 

Still, Hoseok cannot hold back any longer. He rolls his hips forward, connecting their bodies before he connects their lips, breathing in the slight gasp that tumbles from Yoongi's mouth into his the moment their lips touch. 

Yoongi sighs into the kiss, but Hoseok has no intention of going easy on him. He rolls his hips again, forcing Yoongi's thighs to spread further as he licks over his pretty lips and darts his tongue inside the small opening. 

It comes as somewhat of a surprise the way Yoongi seems to melt and become pliant, hands still gripping the desk and giving Hoseok access to do as he pleases, moaning softly but unabashedly. Hoseok lifts a hand and cards it roughly into Yoongi's product-slickened hair, taking no care to prevent the strands from tugging before grabbing a handful. 

With a gasp and a whimper, Yoongi's mouth falls further open, and Hoseok licks inside, darting his tongue around to taste and tease. He hums whenever their lips enclose one another, only for Yoongi to moan each time Hoseok forces him to open wide again.

Finally, Yoongi lifts his hands and grips Hoseok's hips, digging his fingertips and pulling him close. Hoseok rolls his hips again, picking up a slow but firm rhythm, connecting their clothed cocks somewhat haphazardly but with a promise to Yoongi of what could be his. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi gasps against his lips, causing them to tug into a smile.

"Yes, pretty Yoongi?"

"Please," he rasps, fingertips digging with more purpose, pulling Hoseok's hips close. 

"Please, what?"

With a needy sigh, Yoongi tips his head back as if gasping for air. His lips are kiss-slick, and Hoseok sucks the bottom one between his teeth, only releasing when Yoongi whimpers a high, broken sound. 

"What is it, Yoongi?" Hoseok asks firmly, rubbing the tips of their noses together. 

Yoongi heavy-blinks as if struggling to gather his thoughts. He lets out a breathy chuckle, and Hoseok wonders if it is some kind of nervous tick. 

"I don't know," he mutters, eyes searching Hoseok's face. "I want more, but I'm not sure how we should proceed."

There is a shred of vulnerability in Yoongi's expression, laced in Yoongi's voice, that Hoseok so desperately wants to exploit. 

He nibbles on his own bottom lip, backing up only enough to fully take in Yoongis's face. He wonders if it would be more exquisite to use his mouth to make Yoongi fall apart or have the other on his knees for him. 

"I have an idea," Hoseok offers, cocking his head to the side before lowering to a nearby brown leather armchair.

Yoongi watches as Hoseok settles and scoots the heavy chair closer, leaning forward to press his palms against Yoongi's hips through the semi-soft, white wool of his trouser shorts. Yoongi's lidded gaze darkens, and he reaches slowly to graze the backs of his knuckles along Hoseok's cheek before pressing his thumb against Hoseok's bottom lip and dragging it down. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi groans, taking a step forward to properly tower over him. "You have no idea how many times I have dreamed of having you like this."

Hoseok grins, nibbles on the tip of Yoongi's thumb, and opens his mouth to fully suck the digit between his lips when there is a loud knock on the door, followed by the handle rattling. 

Panic rises, and Hoseok sits tall in the leather chair before instinctively slumping back. He is able to use his feet to push it back a little, putting space between himself and the desk.

Yoongi is quick to take a step back, cross one leg over the other, and fold his arms over his chest. He leans against his desk a stoic statue of a man, with his erection hidden nicely by the way he stands. Although there are subtle signs of Yoongi's lips having just been used, and his hair is somewhat out of place on one side, his expression is flat and gives absolutely nothing away.

In hindsight, Hoseok probably should have locked the door. 

"Yoongi-ah," a breathy female voice calls, "I know you said our conversation was over, but I'm here to— oh."

Hoseok turns to find Seori standing with her arm outstretched, holding the office door wide open. She wears a red satin robe that falls just above her knees, and her nipples stand out beneath the thin fabric. 

"Oh!" she says again, eyes darting between Yoongi and Hoseok. "I'm so— I'm sorry. I had no idea you were busy."

"What do you want?" Yoongi asks, running a hand over the hair that had come untucked behind his ear, flattening it somewhat. 

Hoseok focuses his attention on his boss, impressed by how measured and blank Yoongi can become in an instant. Absolutely nothing gives away the heated exchange they shared only moments earlier, nor any hint of interest in the model. 

"Can I, uh…talk to you?" Seori asks. 

Yoongi gives a curt nod and steps away from the desk, arms falling limply at his sides. And despite the hushed way in which Seori speaks on the other end of the room, the sound travels just enough for Hoseok to detect. 

"Please, I just want—"

"I told you, we're finished. Please accept that."

"But Yoongi, I—"

Yoongi speaks low and soft, but loud enough that Hoseok questions whether he wants to be overheard. "Please don't ruin your career over a brief tryst. You are a fine model, and I would hate to lose you because you cannot take no for an answer."

Whatever the woman says next is too pitchy and distraught for Hoseok to make out. He feels awkward eavesdropping now, cursing himself once more for not locking the door. Yoongi's voice drops to an octave that is undetectable at this distance, and soon the office door is clicking shut. 

An exasperated sigh pulls Hoseok's attention, and he turns to find Yoongi standing with his face tipped to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. Really, Yoongi has no one to blame but himself for this mess, yet Hoseok finds he feels for the man. 

"Wanna get out of here?" he offers. 

Yoongi snaps his gaze to Hoseok, instantly relaxing. Hoseok stands from the chair and fully faces Yoongi, but does not approach, watching as the man studies his face, seeming to weigh his options. 

Then he nods and says, "Yeah. Let's go."

Hoseok smooths his hands down his shorts and gathers his handbag while Yoongi quickly crosses the room and shuts off his monitor. He does not touch Hoseok as they leave, and Hoseok gives him space to lock up and walk down the steps toward the exit. 

Across the room, Seori is on the phone, and she seems distressed. Hoseok glances at Yoongi, watching whether or not the man seems concerned, unsurprised when he does not. As they approach the door, within earshot of the model, Yoongi turns to Hoseok, expression as flat as can be, and begins to talk shop.

"So, as I said," he mutters just loud enough to be overheard, "once we have the greenlight from Dior, Seokjin and I will sit down with you to discuss what the next steps are. There is talk of another brand scouting you, but I think Seokjin should be the one to deliver the good news."

By the time Yoongi finishes his sentence, they are outside. The air is far cooler now that the sun is beginning to set, and Hoseok's shoulders rise instinctively as he shivers through an exhale. He wonders if what Yoongi just said about another brand scouting him is really true, or just something he made up on the fly.

Yoongi walks to the left, where his vehicle is parked on the curb, and Hoseok follows suit, slipping into the passenger seat as soon as the door is unlocked and making haste to buckle his seatbelt. No words are exchanged as Yoongi presses the ignition start button and drives off, and Hoseok sits back in the cool leather seat, accepting his fate. 

Despite his attempts at fortifying his heart, Hoseok acknowledges that a small part of him does wonder what it would be like to be the only object of Yoongi's affection. Beyond his money and status in the industry, he imagines what it would be like to receive consistent, uninhibited attention from a man like Yoongi. 

The ride remains silent until Yoongi pulls up to the curb outside his apartment, puts the car into park, and sits back with a heavy exhale. 

"Seok," he grumbles, pulling Hoseok's attention. He likes that the nickname has returned, and he does his best to ignore the way goosebumps break out over his skin. "Out of an abundance of transparency, I just want to state that I am not currently, uh, seeing anyone else."

Hoseok has no idea what to say, so instead he stares. Despite Yoongi's innate ability to keep his expressions measured and cool, there are small tells that give away his nervousness, like the way he slightly darts his tongue across his bottom lip, and how his eyes seem to focus in and out while he thinks. 

"Seori may seem like a current and constant nuisance, but she and I only hooked up once, months ago. I don't want to reduce her worth by calling it a drunken mistake, but that genuinely is all that the experience was. And, well, I don't want to point any blame, but it seems that your presence in the studio has caused her to ramp up her attempts at repeating what we did." 

Yoongi sighs, screwing up his face as if he is pained as he says, "The other day, when I was on my phone during the contract signing, I was attempting to assuage her anger with me giving you the cover, as well as inside ads."

"You were text-fighting with her all evening?" Hoseok asks with more of an edge to his voice than he intended, because, truth be told, he is a bit angry that Yoongi felt he couldn't just say something. 

"My reputation is somewhat exaggerated. I do not come onto every model I hire, but because I am not one to get caught in a dating scandal, rumors fly in favor of me appearing to be a fuckboy. I do occasionally give in to desire, and I am sure your friend Jeongguk has a story of his own…but it is never my intention to use people up and toss them aside."

"He told me the two of you were hooking up until Seori showed up and you dropped him like a sweet potato."

"So you alluded to, the other night." The edges of Yoongi's lips raise for the splittest of seconds, and then he sighs once more. "That was bad timing, at best. Jeongguk was fun to spend time with, but he was clingy and seemed to want a relationship, which I was not willing to provide."

"Clingy," Hoseok mutters, chuckling at the end of the word. 

"I don't necessarily mean it in a bad way."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his mouth, voice low as he says, "Well, he seems pretty hurt."

"It's not like I dropped Jeongguk abruptly. We spoke about it on several occasions, but I admit, he was a hard one to let go of. We had fun."

With a slow, heavy exhale, Hoseok mutters, "Alright, well…I'm still annoyed with you for ignoring me all night, and all weekend, and... You could have at least clued me in a little."

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Yoongi drops his voice lower, "but Seori was attempting to blackmail me. She thought threats of defamation would put me in her palm, and although I have immaculate legal counsel, the whole thing put me in a sour headspace. You are right that I should have said something to you."

Hoseok hums, taking the information in, unsure what to say. 

"I tell you all of this because I was thinking about the other night, at the sushi restaurant, just before your shoe happened to be tucked tight between my legs. You were asking whether I was kissing and spoiling any other models."

A shiver runs along Hoseok's spine at the memory, and he watches Yoongi's lips as he says, "I'm only spoiling you."

Hoseok wants to believe him. He thinks he really does believe him. But he is still determined to only give so much, and not allow himself to get too swept up in whatever Yoongi is trying to do. 

If Yoongi is so eager to insist they are exclusive, where does the line draw between fucking and dating? It is no wonder Jeongguk seemed to misunderstand their arrangement, and Hoseok worries he will end up in the same position.

"Okay," is all Hoseok says because his heart whooshes so loudly in his ears that it is hard to form a more coherent thought. 

"Seok," Yoongi mutters, formed like a question, "what's on your mind?"

"I want to go upstairs," Hoseok says somewhat robotically, eyes lingering on Yoongi's lips.

He watches as the tip of Yoongi's tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip, and he fights the overwhelming urge to lean forward and suck it between his teeth. 

"Alright," Yoongi says. "Let's go upstairs."

Hoseok forgets he is wearing a seatbelt as he reaches for the handle and attempts to get out of the vehicle, finding himself momentarily trapped and flustered. Once he is finally free, he joins Yoongi on the sidewalk, attempting to be as calm as possible as they make their way through the lobby to the elevator. 

Hoseok remembers Jeongguk saying Yoongi bent him over the couch in his studio, causing his stomach to tie in knots. He is not eager to have a repeated experience that his friend had. 

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to have other plans. He holds his key to the pad in the elevator and hits the number five. Hoseok stares at the round button glowing with a golden ring. 

He wonders how the apartment level differs from the studio level. How does Yoongi furnish his home? What kind of vibe is he into?

As the elevator dings, Hoseok sucks in a breath. He grips onto the straps of his handbag while the doors slide open, and Yoongi walks into the small hallway first, kicking out of his loafers and leaving them near tidy rows of shoes. Hoseok does the same and sets his handbag by his shoes while Yoongi enters the code to the door into the keypad.

For some inexplicable reason, the beeping sounds from the keypad seem louder than usual. Hoseok swallows thickly and licks his lips as Yoongi opens the door, switches on a dim overhead light, and shuffles into his home.

Hoseok is not at all surprised to find that everything is black and grey. The floors, the rugs, the walls, the furniture, are all black, with grey curtains and silver accents that add hints of lightness. 

The entire far wall is a window, allowing a gradient of light to pour in from the setting sun, and hanging from the high ceilings are rectangular light fixtures, from which dim golden light glows, illuminating the space nicely. 

From the marble floors, to the plush rugs and matte-finished woods, the textures are so rich and varied that everything appears to be its own shade of black, especially with the golden glow of the overhead lights. Plush, soft couches make a large u-shape in front of the massive window, and sprawled over black tables and shelves are books, various camera equipment, and file folders.

"Wow, so bright and colorful," Hoseok chides as Yoongi leads him to the right, toward the large open kitchen – the same placement as in the studio downstairs. 

"What can I say, I'm a man of simple tastes," Yoongi drawls over his shoulder. "Water?" he asks, tugging open the door of a massive black refrigerator. "Soju? Whiskey? Beer?"

Yoongi looks over his shoulder, illuminated by the bright white glow of his fridge. He has given Hoseok too many options, and he finds he cannot choose. 

"Water is fine," he mutters when Yoongi impatiently lifts his eyebrows. "Unless you want a little something to take the edge off."

Hoseok feels nervous – why does he feel nervous? His hands fidget in the wide sleeves of his hanbok top, and he finds his gaze wandering around the apartment, unable to stay in one place. Perhaps it is the conversation in the car that has caused the excitement from earlier to shift into nervous energy.

"I don't have an edge to take off," Yoongi responds. "Do you have an edge?" 

This kitchen is not as barren as the one in the studio. Yoongi appears to have every appliance known to man, all neatly in place along countertops and storage shelves. This place actually appears lived in and cared for, and Hoseok finds the enveloping darkness surprisingly calming. 

"No," he lies, realizing he had been stuck in his head. "No edge."

Yoongi chuckles and closes the fridge empty-handed, then he moves to the right, to where cabinets sit tall above a large sink, and he produces two shot glasses and a large glass. As he turns on the sink and switches on a filter that is attached to the faucet, he glances over his shoulder and nods to a nearby cabinet, saying, "You seem to have a slight edge. Pick your poison and we'll do a shot to loosen up."

To the right of the sink, above the countertop, is a cabinet with a glass window showcasing several bottles of whiskey. Hoseok finds a Japanese one with an inviting white and black label and pulls it out while Yoongi shuts off the sink and sets down a tall glass of water. 

"Nice pick," Yoongi says as he reaches for the bottle, uncorks the top, and pours two shots. 

Hoseok inches nice and close – close enough to smell the cologne Yoongi wears – and reaches for one of the shots. They clink the glasses together softly and shoot the liquid back, and although it is rich and smooth, the strength makes Hoseok wince, which in turn makes Yoongi chuckle.  

"It's good," Hoseok insists, feeling somewhat embarrassed despite having no reason to be. "Just strong."

"One more?" Yoongi asks, leaning close. "Or is your edge softened?"

"One more," Hoseok responds, tipping his chin upward in a challenge. "I wanna taste it on your tongue."

Yoongi snickers then pours two more shots, which they quickly drink back, and this time, Hoseok does not react as strongly to the earthy, semi-sweet flavor. This time, he picks up hints of caramel and enjoys the way it settles over him like a warm hug. 

Ordinarily, two shots are hardly enough to make Hoseok feel anything but warm and energized. But he only ate breakfast today, a realization that makes him feel somewhat foolish, all things considered, and the whiskey has a bit of an effect on him.

Hoseok feels light around the edges. Fuzzy tendrils of frenetic energy erupt from him like tiny solar flares ignited by Japanese whiskey and Yoongi's proximity. He places his hands against Yoongi's hips and turns him until his ass is against the counter, then he slides his hands to rest against the countertop, caging Yoongi in like he had in his office. 

"Kiss me," he whispers, elated as Yoongi obeys immediately, leaning close to lick over Hoseok's lips and then part his own.

Hoseok sucks Yoongi's bottom lip into his mouth, smiling as he whimpers. He licks over Yoongi's tongue, tasting remnants of heady caramel and something far sweeter and more personal. As if driven mad by the flavor, leans his body against Yoongi's to rut his hips forward. 

"Bed," Yoongi mutters against Hoseok, to which Hoseok nods without disconnecting their lips. He is not ready to stop tasting Yoongi just yet. He wants to commit the flavor to memory. 

Yoongi's hands find Hoseok's hips and grip tightly, working to both spur him on and calm him down. Hoseok parts the kiss with a heavy sigh and nods once more, resting his forehead against Yoongi's and allowing himself to return to earth. 

Then he reaches for the cold glass of tap water and takes a long, slow gulp, hips still pressed against Yoongi with a slight twist to them. He drinks half of the glass down then holds it for Yoongi to have, and takes a step back to give both of them a little space. 

Yoongi drinks then sets the glass aside, takes Hoseok's hand, and leads him through the apartment, past the large glass wall through which the sun sets into an inviting greyish blue with pink hues. The door straight ahead is open – the same place the door to Yoongi's studio can be found on the floor below – and Yoongi walks in and flips a switch that invites a soft purple glow.

Similar to the rest of the house, everything is shades of black, save for the bedding, curtains, and rugs which are forest green. Two of the walls are made of glass, allowing the light from the setting sun to pour in through sheer dark green curtains, and there is dark furniture throughout, but Hoseok's attention is on the bed – a wide mattress on a low black platform that is lifted inches from the floor, under which a purple light glows. 

"You can change the color if you'd like," Yoongi offers, speaking directly into Hoseok's ear and fanning warm breath against his cheek. 

Hoseok tugs Yoongi's hand toward the bed and says, "I bet purple would look nice against your skin," as they stop and face each other. 

Hoseok begins to yank open Yoongi's white blazer, which absorbs the light into a pretty lilac shade, and Yoongi chuckles and takes over, very delicately removing the item and handing it to Hoseok. 

"Leave it there," he instructs with a nod of his chin, and Hoseok turns to find a small armchair nearby, to the right of the bed, over which a black blazer rests. He drapes the new blazer beside the other and turns back to find Yoongi unbuttoning and untucking his white dress shirt. 

With each inch of skin that Yoongi reveals, Hoseok feels his heart begin to race. He shrugs quickly from his hanbok top, tossing it in a heap onto the armchair, then yanks his tank top over his head and chucks it aside.

When his fingers reach the button of his shorts, Yoongi's large, knobby fingers stop his movements, pulling his hands away. Hoseok looks up from his interrupted task to find Yoongi shirtless and sinking to his knees. 

"Let me do it," he insists.

Hoseok nods and swallows thickly, watching as Yoongi's knees are engulfed by a soft, dark green shag rug. Yoongi rubs his hands up Hoseok's thighs, causing a warmth to simmer in the pit of his tummy, and he breathes deep and slow, doing his best to maintain his composure. 

As Yoongi yanks at Hoseok's shorts, pulling them past his knees, he sits high and wafts his breath against his black briefs, warm then cool on his growing erection. With his gaze directed at Hoseok's eyes, Yoongi nudges his nose and lips against him, taking deep breaths as if savoring his musk, and Hoseok reaches one hand to grip Yoongi's product-slick hair and give his head a rough tug. 

Yoongi whimpers, and the sight of him on his knees, submissive and making such pretty sounds kicks Hoseok's need to tame him into overdrive. Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's waistband, but Hoseok shakes his head and says, "Hands at your sides."

With a gasp, Yoongi's eyes widen – pretty and endless depths of inviting brown. Hoseok tongues the inside of his cheek and grips Yoongi's hair a little rougher. 

"You have to earn it."

"Earn it?" Yoongi responds almost sardonically, and Hoseok yanks at his head just enough to make him whimper and sigh. 

"You heard me. Earn it."

"Please?" Yoongi tries, batting his long, dark lashes like a pretty little doll. 

"Please, what?"

"Please let me taste you."

"Only good boys get to suck my cock, pretty Yoongi," Hoseok responds in a mocking tone. Yoongi's pupils react to his words, and Hoseok snickers. "Are you going to be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi practically moans. "I'll be a good boy for you."

"Not just tonight," Hoseok says, tipping his head to the side and peering down at Yoongi with squinted eyes. "You're going to be good to me for as long as we do whatever it is that we are doing. No more miscommunications. No more half-truths."

"I'll be good for you," Yoongi insists, eyes wide and pleading. 

"You're still my boss, so we will have to navigate that dynamic one day at a time," Hoseok continues, reaching his other hand to drag his thumb along Yoongi's bottom lip the way Yoongi did to him in his office. "As long as we are not at work, we are equals, and you will treat me as such."

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi mutters. 

Hoseok gives his hair a tug and grits, "Louder," through his teeth.

"I'll be good to you, Seok," Yoongi's voice switches from coy desperation to firm insistence, deepening as he says, "Please let me be so good to you."

Hoseok's head spins. He nods and releases Yoongi's hair, then drops his arms to his sides and says, "One thing I like about you is your quick wit and sharp tongue…and I'm sure that is not the extent of what that pretty mouth can do."

Yoongi grins, then lifts his hands to paw over Hoseok's cock and grab for his waistband. Arousal soars through Hoseok – lava in his veins – and he does his best to keep his composure, whimpering softly while he holds firm eye contact with Yoongi.

That is, until he pulls Hoseok's briefs down, and Yoongi's gaze falls to his freed cock. His eyes widen, and he licks his lips as he sits high on his knees and shuffles a little closer. With slow strokes, Yoongi makes Hoseok dizzy, dragging against his foreskin before pushing it down, revealing a flushed head and length. 

With a delicate flick of his bubblegum tongue, Yoongi laps up the precum that drips from Hoseok's tip, sending a shiver down his spine. Yoongi drags his lips over the tip and crown, gaze intently returning to Hoseok, teasing with feather-light touches. 

Hoseok smirks down at the man – eager to knock him off his pedestal a little – and asks, "How many other pretty models have you dropped to your knees so easily for?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, burning with something Hoseok struggles to discern, and a scoff comes from between his lips. He seems incensed but so terribly aroused. Hoseok grins. 

"That's what I thought," Hoseok grumbles bending as he grips Yoongi by the chin and tugs enough to make him sit even higher. He feels powerful and possessive. "This is all for me. Now, open." 

As soon as Yoongi's lips part, Hoseok spits into his mouth. Yoongi's eyes widen further, and he keeps his mouth open as if he is waiting for instruction. His submissive side has Hoseok simmering with desire. 

"You're so perfect, Yoongi," Hoseok praises just above a whisper. "So fucking perfect. Now put those pretty lips to good use."

Yoongi nods once – a shallow, quick movement – then wastes no time taking Hoseok's length deep into his throat. Hoseok feels Yoongi swallow and possibly begin to gag, but he is slow with the way he pulls back and sinks down, sucking with his lips tight around the tip each time, eliciting bursting waves of pleasure. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, reaching to grip his hair with his right hand. He cannot believe this is finally happening. "Your mouth feels amazing."

Yoongi hums and moans, increasing his speed but never seeming rushed, and Hoseok's head spins as his arousal builds and builds. It has been far too fucking long since he has had someone so pretty down on their knees, and the sight alone of Yoongi's doll lips wrapped around him while tears pool around his delicate, long eyelashes builds his pleasure too fast. 

"I won't last long," he whimpers. "Feels too good."

As if spurred on to push Hoseok over the edge, Yoongi swallows his cock deeper, holding it lodged in his throat until his face begins to redden and his eyes bulge. The sensation is exquisite, especially as Yoongi pulls back, mouth full of thick saliva, making the slide smooth as silk. 

And again, Yoongi sinks down as deep as he can and holds Hoseok there, gaze trained upward despite the way his eyelashes flicker. Hoseok reaches with his free hand and gives Yoongi's cheek a delicate slap, then lower to cradle Yoongi's throat and feel himself buried deep from the outside. 

"Holy fuck," he babbles, nodding. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, Yoongi. Such a good boy, perfect, perfect."

This time, when Yoongi pulls back, saliva pours from between his lips, and he uses both hands to stroke along Hoseok's length while he bobs his tightened lips just past the head, laving with his tongue. 

Hoseok is overstimulated in a way he has never experienced from a blowjob, and his resolve crumbles in an instant. 

"Gonna cum, fuck," Hoseok warns. "Can I cum in your mouth?"

Yoongi heavy-blinks and attempts to nod, lips and hands still working Hoseok over. Hoseok's entire body feels hot – set alight, threatening to combust. 

"Fuck, fuck," Hoseok whimpers, trembling from pleasure that teeters just on the edge of insanity. 

Yoongi stills his head, holding his mouth open and tongue flat while stroking Hoseok with both hands. The tip of his cock drags along Yoongi's pretty tongue, and with one more measured stroke, Hoseok releases, moaning and gasping, practically folding in half as his cum spurts in long ropes, painting Yoongi white. 

Although the strokes slow, they do not stop. Yoongi's large, soft hands milk him of every last drop until Hoseok is gripping Yoongi's shoulders and he is begging him to have mercy. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," he gasps, lowering to his knees, no longer able to hold himself up.

Yoongi's tongue continues to lay flat, cum and drool dripping down his chin, and Hoseok sits high and spits once more into his mouth before commanding him to, "Swallow."

Hoseok watches intently as Yoongi closes his lips and swallows his cum, then his hands are on him, lazily gripping at his throat and neck. He feels drunk with power and desire – feels ready to allow the blaze inside him to swallow both of them whole. 

"On the bed," Hoseok commands.

Yoongi's face is flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, his once-style hair is fucked up and sticking out on the sides, and his lips are pretty kiss-swollen petals. He breathes slow and deep as he nods, eyelashes fluttering as if he too is coming down from a high. 

Rather than stand, Yoongi turns haphazardly on his knees, gets onto his hands, and crawls. His white trouser shorts hug his plump round ass, swaying with each movement like a beacon of pleasure, and Hoseok crawls behind him, eyes never leaving his prize until they must – until Yoongi climbs up the platform bed and turns, sitting with his feet planted on the floor. 

Hoseok crawls to Yoongi's shins, then sits high on his knees and uses his palms to spread his thighs. He licks his lips and reaches for Yoongi's button and zipper, but Yoongi grips Hoseok by the wrists and yanks. 

"Come here, Seok."

Nodding, still feeling somewhat delirious, Hoseok gets up onto his feet just enough to crash down onto the low bed, caging Yoongi's legs as the man chuckles and crawls backward to the center of the mattress.

"I have an idea," Yoongi promises, rotating to scoot until his shoulders are against the dark headboard. He pats his legs and says, "Come here," while he hastily shoves his shorts and briefs down, and his voice is rougher than usual, no doubt from deepthroating.

For the first time since all of this has started, Hoseok gets a good look at Yoongi. His complexion is soft and supple against the dark bedding, and his body is a gorgeous blend of thin and muscular – similar to Hoseok, yet different. His shoulders are wide, his hands are large, yet he is knobby and slightly lanky, small against the large bed. Breathtaking.

The hair at the base of Yoongi's hard, leaking cock is trimmed low – an inviting patch of black against lilac-tinted skin. Hoseok leans close to kiss along Yoongi's hip and breathes in his musky-sweet scent, but before he can tease, Yoongi has both hands on Hoseok's cheeks and jaw, tugging him upward.

Hoseok lifts and wiggles beside Yoongi, who has slithered down into a lying position. "Kiss me," he groans, still pulling Hoseok by the face, forcing him to crash down against him, licking against his lips. 

As Hoseok settles onto his side, Yoongi drapes a leg around Hoseok's hips and rolls their bodies together. Already, Hoseok's cock is becoming erect, and with each roll of Yoongi's hips, he feels hypnotized. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, sinking low against Yoongi's chest to leave marks with his lips and teeth that will be hidden under clothing tomorrow. "You don't know what you do to me."

Yoongi lifts his hand to Hoseok's lips and rasps, "Spit," and Hoseok obeys, gathering saliva under his tongue only to trickle it into his palm. Then Yoongi reaches between them, engulfs both cocks in his warm grip, and thrusts. 

"Oh, shit," Hoseok whimpers in tandem with a deep, needy groan from Yoongi. 

Hoseok spits hastily into his own hand and reaches to engulf them further, then he sets a rhythm with his hips, pushing when Yoongi pulls and pulling when Yoongi pushes. Pleasure grips Hoseok tight, threatening to drag him into the hot, inviting depths of hell, and Hoseok whimpers as he leans into Yoongi, sucking his lips between his teeth. 

The kiss is a sloppy gnash of teeth and tongues with nobody in control. Yoongi seems to be losing his composure quickly, and the more he moans and trembles against Hoseok, the more persistently Hoseok strokes their dicks. 

Their rhythm is hypnotizing – a dance between two bodies so fluid and perfect, Hoseok has a lingering thought that perhaps the two of them were meant for each other. Their connection feels so intense, it scares the shit out of him.

"Seok," Yoongi whimpers, lower lip caught in Hoseok's teeth. "Close. So close. "Gonna—"

"In my mouth," Hoseok insists, releasing his hold on their cocks and haphazardly sliding down the length of Yoongi's body.

He is quick to sink Yoongi deep into his throat, wasting no time sucking as if his life depends on it. Yoongi stays on his side and grips onto Hoseok's hair, hips trusting, never losing their dizzying rhythm. 

Hoseok can feel Yoongi pulsate against his lips and he swallows him deep, moaning and humming around him until Yoongi's hips tremble and he shoots his load straight into Hoseok's throat. Yoongi's voice is pitchy and broken, his body quakes with bliss, and Hoseok breathes through his nose, doing his best to swallow each drop without his gag reflex interfering.

Suddenly exhausted, Hoseok releases Yoongi's spent cock, gasping for air. It is messy the way Yoongi attempts to pull Hoseok's lips back to his, body bent in half while Hoseok stretches and strains until he finally finds the strength to crawl up to him and kiss him properly. 

"Seok," Yoongi gasps against his lips, eyes wide and filling Hoseok's vision. "You're incredible. Nobody…" he pants, "nobody has ever made me feel this way."

Honeyed words taste bitter against Hoseok's tongue as he considers all the different times Yoongi must have used that line before. How many models did he sink his claws into similarly, only to drop without a care in the world? What is worse is that Hoseok almost believes him.

Yoongi holds Hoseok in place against him, lips lazily dragging, eager to kiss despite losing the strength to move. Hoseok's mouth moves on instinct alone, erection long forgotten to the brewing storm inside his head.

"Nap," Yoongi grumbles, body falling limp and relaxed around him. "Then food."

"Okay," Hoseok whispers as he reaches for the soft comforter on which they lay, folding it over them rather than bothering to attempt to crawl beneath it. 

Yoongi smiles, drifting to sleep, and Hoseok leaves soft pecks against the tip of his nose and the apple of his cheek, eager to kiss and kiss and kiss. He wants to commit this moment to memory in the event that this is the last time. 

As Yoongi's body becomes heavy as lead, lost to the firm grasp of sleep, Hoseok waits for him to lightly begin to snore. He waits, laying on his side and tracing each shape of Yoongi's beautiful face, shoulders, and chest with his eyes. 

He waits and he waits until Yoongi rolls onto his back, limbs slipping away from Hoseok's nude body. And then he waits just a beat longer before he slowly, silently slips out from beneath the comforter, collects his clothing, and tiptoes into the living room. 

It is still early in the night, and Hoseok stares out the window at the city below the hill, at the river in the distance, at the cars that drive by. He slips into his clothing, tiptoes to the front door, gathers his handbag and shoes, and, in the elevator, calls for a cab.

Over and over, Yoongi's voice plays in Hoseok's head. Nobody has ever made me feel this way. 

Over and over, his pretty, tearful eyes and soft, kissable lips sear into Hoseok's mind, taking up permanent residence, threatening to drive him mad. Hoseok stares at his reflection in the elevator doors, unsure how he is supposed to feel. 

He got it out of his system. He successfully fucked with the pretty man with the reputation for using people, and he slipped away in the night, giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

But he does not feel satisfied. It is as if vines have snaked their way into his chest cavity and they squeeze, threatening to puncture his lungs with their thorns and steal his air. 

He feels defeated. Deflated. He has accomplished his goal, yet he does not feel victorious. 

Nobody has ever made me feel this way. 

Those pretty words spoken in that raspy voice taunt him over and over, and Hoseok walks out into the chill night feeling emptier than before.  

one more chapter left!!! and don't worry, these two idiots will have a happy ending, okay. i just have to drag you through the angst mud a little more because it's funnnn. 😍😍😍 apparently i can only focus on one bestie at a time, so i will do my best to bring Taehyung into the spotlight in chapter 4!

also i feel like it is silly to have described Yoongi living in an all black and grey space with my whole entire chest, but this is what i had in mind:

MORE COMING SOON!!! COMMENTS & REBLOGS WILL MAKE ME WANT TO WORK ON IT FASTER! LIKES ARE ALWAYS SO SO APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!

tag list: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @fluffybuns69 @giriiboyy @idkjustlovingbts @itsmina29 @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki 📸 want to be added to this tag list for part 4? or the list for all of my member x member fics?? or everything i post??? or maybe this fic isn’t for you and you want to be removed???? comment or dm! i will make your dreams a reality.

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Showstopper is copyright theharrowing 2022 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

[soobinskii]

UP ALL NIGHT(CLUB) OVERVIEW.

"drunk on the atmosphere"

this is going to be a very long fic containing the following : drugs, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst, funny, idolxreader AND idolxidol, random idols, possible sensitive topics (death, illness, mental heath issues.)

i will update the warnings as i go...

this fic is a soobin x reader (for now) based on the old jackson wang party fics with a twist. there's going to be drama, breakups, hard times. it's going to be more realistic. (aka wattpad fanfic, party, non-idol!au)

it takes place in present day, south korea. weed is legalized in this au. this fic may have some futuristic / cyberpunk themes.

in this fic idols may play different roles, they could still be celebrities, maybe another type of celebrity, they could be usual citizens with a 9-5 job, or anything inbetween.

this is not actually how i view the idols, this is just how i write them. they may act out of character or not up to their personality. i'm just writing out of imagination. (i'm not a shipper, the idolxidol relationships are just for the plot)

character roles (ongoing) :

drug dealers :

- seonghwa, hongjoong, mingi, yunho, wooyoung. (ateez)

- johnny, jaehyun, yuta, taeyong. (nct)

- intak. (p1harmony)

- vernon, soonyoung {hoshi}, seungcheol {s.coups}, minghao {the8}, jihoon {woozi}. (seventeen)

other possible love interests :

- someone from txt, ateez or svt (may stay as soobin)

party throwers :

- jackson wang (got7)

- matthew {big matthew} (kard)

— progress : chapter one finished. | chapter two in the works..

finishing notes : sorry ! i've never written a fic overview before. lmk if i should add anything or if you'd like to know about my headcanons for someone ^^

[daegudrama]

Daegudrama’s Spicy Festa Special D-2

Title: Club Nabi

Pairing: Reader/Park Jimin

Summary: Reader meets a stranger at the club and ends up in a compromising position in the bathroom.

Word Count: 1604 words

The cold wind nips at your bare legs as you wait in line outside Club Nabi. Not even the shots you had at your best friend's apartment are warming you up. You pull your leather jacket tighter against your body as the line finally starts to move. In front of you two men are laughing at something on the taller one’s phone. For a moment you try to listen to what they are saying but it doesn’t seem very interesting or polite. 

Sakura, your best friend of many years, pulls on your arm, snapping you out of your eavesdropping.  You are in front of the bouncer now scrambling to get your ID out. After a quick glance he lets the two of you in with no problem. Though his eyes linger on your exposed collarbone a little longer than necessary. 

This is your first time here and you are amazed by the way they’ve made butterflies for a club aesthetic. Subtle glowing butterflies are scattered across the walls with neon flower signs. There are a few booths off in the corners but the dance floor is the main feature. The floor is already filled with bodies swaying back and forth to the pounding music. 

“Let’s get a drink.” Sakura says, linking her delicate arm through yours.

She’s been here a few times and swears it’s the best place to let off steam. With how stressful work has been lately you could really use a little bit of fun. Sakura pays for the first round opting for simple shots of soju. You remove your coats leaving them near the bar. Each of you takes two shots before heading to the dance floor.

You and Sakura are in your own world dancing together for quite awhile before her eyes widen. She raises an eyebrow and backs away telling you with her facial expressions to look behind you. Your best friend turns to a tall man and shakes her hips in time to the music. 

You turn to see possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His black hair is pushed away from his forehead. The man’s eyes sparkle with a tantalizing charm only enhanced by the smallest amount of dark eye makeup. His confidence radiates around him in a way that is almost as sexy as the smile on his pillow lips. 

“Hello beautiful.” His voice is low as he leans in to speak in your ear sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m Jimin.”

He hasn’t touched you waiting for you to make the first move. The alcohol running through your veins gives you a surge of courage you wouldn’t normally have. You reach forward, taking his hands and placing them on your hips. You tell him your name as you dance into him.

Jimin’s body is inching closer to yours as you continue to dance. His hands are warm through the thin material of your black body con dress. He presses his fingertips harder into your skin warming your stomach. He takes your hand spinning you around before pulling you close until your noses are almost touching. He pauses for a moment, hands grasping your waist again before he closes the gap between your lips. Jimin tastes like expensive whiskey and somehow that pulls you in further. 

You wrap your arms around his neck urging him closer until your bodies are flush. His hand slides to your ass kneading it with his fingers. You deepen the kiss allowing his smooth tongue to explore your mouth. A low hum sounds from his throat and somehow you wish you were even closer to him. 

Jimin pulls away first, taking you in his arms with your ass pressed against his cock. He’s already tenting his pants from just kissing you. You shake your ass in time with the music and he grabs your hips. His lips are parted when you look over your shoulder at him. His drags his hands to your breasts cupping one in each hand as you continue to move against him. 

It’s several minutes before you can’t take it anymore and turn around to kiss him again. Your hand reaches for his cock stroking it through his slacks. He hisses sucking harshly at your neck. After a minute of this he pulls your hand away grasping it tightly in his. Jimin leads the way through the crowd holding tightly to your hand. 

He stops in front of the bathroom peeking inside before continuing on. The bathroom is washed with red light and is surprisingly empty. There are a variety of butterfly murals covering the walls. Jimin backs you against the sink only stopping when you are pressed against the counter.

“Let me have a taste.” He says picking you up with ease and setting you on the counter.

Not a word passes your lips as you spread your legs inviting him to take you however he wants. He hooks his fingers under the band of your lace panties and pulls them to your ankles without prompt. Jimin leans down and pushes your dress up to lick a bold strip across your slit. You feel like you’ve been waiting ages for someone to touch you. Your body is more sensitive than usual only heightening the pleasure you feel as he flicks his tongue over you. 

One of your hands takes a fist full of his hair and a soft moan leaves his mouth which only leads you to tug harder. He loves the sensation, returning the favor with precise swirls of his tongue on your clit. You are trying to keep quiet but you can’t stay silent when his tongue feels so good lapping at your pussy.

A sharp breath enters your lungs when he pushes two fingers into your cunt without warning. He gives you all of two seconds to adjust before he begins quickly thrusting his fingers in and out of you. You lean your head against the mirror behind you not knowing what to do. He continues sucking and licking at your pussy while his fingers work deep inside your soaked pussy. 

You are almost embarrassed by how quickly you feel your orgasm building. Jimin is so incredibly sexy and skilled that it’s hard to control yourself. The man is so effortlessly handsome. He sucks your clit into his mouth looking up at you through his lashes and you lose it. You cum all over his fingers chanting his name like he’s some famous idol and not a man you just met in a club. He certainly has the charm and looks to be an idol. 

“So pretty, baby.” He says standing to pull you in for a soft kiss. “Can I fuck you against this counter?”

“Please!” You whine almost surprising yourself with how desperately you want this man’s cock to fill you up. 

The man lifts you off of the counter then turns you around. He pushes your head towards the counter and you bend over. Jimin enjoys the view of your pretty pussy ready for his leaking cock. He wastes no time unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down along with his boxers. You hear the sound of Jimin opening a condom and in the mirror you see him roll it on. 

Jimin smacks your ass before he lines himself up with your pussy. He’s made you so wet that he slides inside you with no resistance. He curses as he bottoms out inside of you. Jimin fills your cunt so nicely you wish he would stay in you forever. 

He slowly pulls out before snapping his hips, pushing himself back inside of you. He grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back so you have no choice but to watch yourself in the mirror. Jimin thrusts into again with more force this time. Your eyes widen as your jaw drops, breathy moans leaving your lips. Your breasts are bouncing as he opts for shallow fast thrusts. The sting of your scalp only makes the sensation of his cock slamming into you that much better. 

There is a pleased smirk on Jimin’s lips as he looks at you in the mirror. His other hand is gripping your hip keeping in place so he can use you as he pleases. This is the first time you’ve ever had sex in public and the man behind you is making sure it’s the best you ever have. 

The chance of someone walking in sends a thrill to your chest. His thrusts become more erratic as he nears his high. Pretty moans are filling the air as he lets go of your hair. Jimin pushes deep inside of you grabbing your breasts as he cums into the condom inside you. He rests his head against your shoulder kissing the exposed skin. 

He pulls out dealing with the condom while you just stand there. Where do you go from here? You pull your panties back into place and Jimin puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in for a chaste kiss pulling back when his phone buzzes. His brows furrow together before he leaves without another word.  You try to follow him but he easily gets lost in the over packed crowd.

You find Sakura at the bar alone and she raises an eyebrow silently asking what the fuck just happened. Of course, you tell her in painstaking detail just like she wants. She wants to look for him but you hold her arm. If he wanted anything else he would’ve said so. If anything else is meant to happen you’ll see him again. 

[monstersmutstickerclub]

Here’s a quick time-lapse of the compositing work done to create the Ephyra postcard! 🐙

Smut Clique subscribers get this for free with Sticker Drop 02! 👀

https://monstersmutstickerclub.com/drop/2

[mango-min]

**REPOST**

!! BXB ROLEPLAY AD !!

i've been rping for 8ish years now, and i'm looking for more rp partners as it's been difficult to find new long-term ones. i mainly am most comfortable with bts, but am open to rping other groups as long as it's bxb. i also mainly rp as jimin & am usually a sub but versatile top/bottom (LMAO i've been a dom so many times for others), & am 22, so only 19-20+ for age please!

jikook is my ult ship but of course i'm open to any jimin ship or any idol bxb ship for that matter, just no OCs or mxf. i have no triggers and am open to anything really, just ask! i enjoy dark plots, dead dove, etc. I only do semi-lit to novellas and text rps with lit roleplay in between can be fun, but they're a rare occasion. i rp on discord mainly!

also open to group rps!

please DM if interested or have questions about me or the ad!

[kpopbookclub]

Yes, hello, it is 1:30am and I'm losing my damn mind 🥴

subscribed - MYG

↣ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

༄moodboard

pairing — asmr artist/camboy!yoongi x reader

genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, s2l, college au

word count — 15K [excluding the texts]

warnings/tags — strong language, same au as ‘whipped,’ cocky yoongi 🥴, GINGER yoongi !! (a warning in itself), oh god flirting, unhygienic sharing of a lollipop, yoongi is down bad, sexting, exchange of explicit images, ex-bf!yeonjun, mentions of alcohol, y/n is obsessed with the color purple, hand kink, voice kink, breast kink ofc, drool play, harmless stalking, pda, just guys being dudes, bad pickup lines, one jealous roommate, explicit smut — use of a vibrator + flogger, slight masochism, masturbation (f & m), voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, biting/scratching, degradation, name-calling, tongue sucking, a few slaps, oral (f & m), brief boob job, hickeys, deep throating, clit pinching, pussy slapping, spanks, rimming, brief handjob, edging, hair pulling, choking, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms + positions, reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, cumshots, post-sex cuddles

a/n — ah another fic about my love for yoongi’s hands + voice sjjdkske (for the sexy pics, I don’t include any to try & be as reader inclusive as possible) when you’re reading the chats don’t swipe bc there’s commentary in between okay? okay 😤

Just like any other Friday evening, you poke your head around the doorframe in annoyance, glaring at the RA who continues to yell at the boisterous students. Counterproductive threats booming out down the hallway, just as noisy as the rest of them. Quickly rushing back inside your room, you fix your pigtails and give your reflection a small nod before stepping out again, leaning on the notice board with a playful smile on your face, arms folded.

“Namjoon!”

Keep reading

[theharrowing]

Showstopper 📸 2: The rumors really are true

Hoseok knows the rumors.

Everyone in the industry knows the rumors.

Min Yoongi is a player. Min Yoongi is a snake. Stand in front of Min Yoongi’s camera, and you will be just another one of his victims – prey for him to use as he pleases and toss away when he gets bored.

📸 Hoseok x Yoongi

📸 word count: 17.8k

📸 strangers to lovers, model & photographer au, angst, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

📸 warnings: thick thick tension; a bit of jealousy; inappropriate boss to employee conduct; Hoseok in a merkin; explicit mentions of sex; mention of giving & receiving a handjob with a stranger in a bathroom stall; a kiss; angst!!!; bestie Jimin is chaos in human form; Namjoon is both a kind friend and a snitch and we love that for him; Yoongi is bi/pan.

📸 notes: HI WOW I DID NOT MEAN TO LET A FULL YEAR PASS BEFORE UPDATING THIS FIC!!! i actually really love this one and i am sad that it took me so long to return, but i am back here, with 2 more chapters in the works!!! also, i don't know anything about modeling contracts & everything is made up!!! please have fun!!!

📸 written for the BTS Found Fest!

📸 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading.

📸 posted jan. 2024 | read on ao3

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For a week and a half, Hoseok's life is a whirlwind of photoshoots and wardrobe fittings. He rubs shoulders with some of the biggest names in the industry and overhears talk of making him the face of a jewelry or perfume line. Seemingly everyone fawns over Hoseok, gathers around the monitor to look at proofs, and praises him for his work. 

"You make it look effortless," he hears a lot, "like you were born to do this."

Show-stopping, Hoseok thinks, mind always returning to the booth at the pizzeria, to the soft but insistent look in Yoongi's eyes, over which a wild mess of dark brown waves hung. And to the car ride home after that shoot in his home studio, to the gentle way Yoongi squeezed his knee. 

During the week and a half, Hoseok sees Yoongi daily, and he does his best to appear unaffected by Yoongi's sleepy appearance swaddled in layer upon layer of dark clothing. Despite looking soft, Yoongi is stern and cold at work, which Hoseok has to adjust to at first. 

But there are glances and compliments thrown Hoseok's way that are warm and full of depth, and he clings to those like a lifeline. He finds he is always waiting for the day to come when they have a remote shoot that Yoongi drives him home from, or another meeting over dinner, or, if he is really lucky, another shoot in Yoongi's home studio. 

After an intense week and a half that has Hoseok feeling as exhausted as he feels hopeful, on a sunny Saturday morning, Hoseok wakes to find a text message that fills him with as much excitement as it does worry. 

Magic Min Are you free for lunch? There are some potential contractual items that I would like to discuss with you.  

Hoseok scoffs at potential contractual items, rolling his eyes at how Yoongi always seems so stuffy over text. He wonders if Yoongi would ever be the type to send an emoji if they were to become that close, then feels his cheeks warm at the wayward thought, laughing it away almost as quickly as it arrived. 

If they were to become close...Hoseok knows that one does not simply become close to a man like Yoongi. Even Namjoon, who seems to be Yoongi's closest confidant – daresay his friend – is responded to in simple grumbles and shrugs more often than not. 

But still, Hoseok likes to imagine it. His soft, gummy smile; his deep, contemplative eyes; the way his hands leave behind a trail of warmth wherever they touch, lingering and making impressions for Hoseok to trace over and over again later. If only those impressions were more tangible, like a soft press of lips, a bruise sucked into skin, scratches of blunt fingernails leaving behind welts, and, god forbid, drawing tiny droplets of blood.

A shiver runs down Hoseok's back, and he shakes his head before slapping himself on the cheek twice, forcing his wandering mind back to earth. He lets out a deep huff of air that had sat trapped in his lungs. 

He really needs to get laid if this is how he reacts to seeing a very cold business-only text message from a man he hardly knows. Even if that man happens to be soft and pretty as a petal and calls him show-stopping.

With another stern slap to his cheek, Hoseok clears his throat and types out a response—

Hoseok Sure. When and where, boss?

—and then throws his bright orange and yellow comforter to the side in a rush as he bolts into the bathroom to shower and begin his skincare routine, eager to put his best face forward. 

Hoseok speeds through his routine but takes care not to skip any steps, then he rushes back to his abandoned phone, relieved to find Yoongi's response only came in seven minutes ago. 

Magic Min Craving burgers. There's a spot not too far from you if that sounds good.

Attached is a link to a burger joint that Hoseok has been to several times over the years, and he smiles to himself as he realizes he will be meeting Yoongi again. Yoongi, who he has seen every day since Monday, and nearly every day the week prior, with the exception of last Saturday and Sunday. 

Hoseok Ah, I know that spot! Sounds great.

Hoseok clicks off the screen of his phone and squeezes the device tight in his palm, considering what kind of outfit would be best for such an outing. He is surprised when it takes less than a minute for a response to come in and bites his lip as he reads it over.

Magic Min Great. Is noon good? Or do you need more time to fuss over what to wear?

Ah, there it is, the classic Min Asshole charm. Hoseok had nearly forgotten about just how obnoxious Yoongi can be, and he rolls his eyes at how he always knows just what to say to get under his skin. The man does have a point, though; does Hoseok have enough time to fuss over what to wear?

A glance at the clock shows it is just after 10 am, and Hoseok sighs with relief. Thanks to his early shoots, he has grown accustomed to waking up earlier than usual. 

He even went so far as to ignore his friends last night when they insisted he join them at the club, feeling exhausted from a busy week. He likes to think of this as his glow-up era; a time for him to grow and mature, and not wake up all puffy and depressed from a hangover. Frankly, his friends could learn a thing or two from him. 

Hoseok Noon works just fine, thank you very much. And no need to send your goon to pick me up. I'll walk. 

This time, when Hoseok spins away from his bed, he brings his phone with him, eager for another response despite knowing that in under two hours, he will be seated across from the man at another wooden booth. 

He gazes wistfully at his closet, trying to come up with the perfect game plan while being wholly distracted by the thought that, at any moment, his phone will buzz to life with a new notification. When it does, Hoseok gasps happily and wastes no time opening the message.

Magic Min Goon? I'm telling Seokjin-hyung you said that. 

Hoseok Please, I'm not afraid of him. 

Magic Min You should be. 

With a coy bite of his lip that tugs into a smile, Hoseok watches Yoongi's response come quickly, and then he sets his phone down, deciding he has work to do and that he cannot allow a man to distract him. 

Time flies when he is having fun, and after an exciting hour of pulling shirts and jeans from hangers to hold in front of himself in the mirror, he finally gets dressed in a white tee tucked into distressed blue jeans with a black bomber jacket on top that has a pretty watercolor flower pattern of deep pinks and bright greens. 

He applies a little makeup to accentuate his eyes and lips, then uses a little product to style his hair in a way that suggests it is, in fact, unstyled. Simple. Tasteful. Perfect. 

By 11:30, Hoseok is antsy and begins to circle around his place, unsure whether or not this outfit calls for a purse and slinging several over his shoulder before deciding the added weight just heightens his anxiety. His jacket pockets are accommodating enough for his phone, wallet, keys, and lip balm, so he shoves everything where it belongs and searches the restaurant to find out how long it will take him to walk, nearly shouting with excitement that it is twenty minutes away and that his misery will soon be over. 

Hoseok slides his feet into and kicks his feet out of several pairs of white sneakers before deciding to wear the first pair he tried on, then checks his phone to see that it is 11:36. Close enough, he decides, as he shoots Yoongi a text and heads out the door. 

Hoseok Be there in 20!

As Hoseok makes his way through the hallway of his building, down the short flight of steps, and out into the warm, late morning air, his heart begins to pick up to a more excited pace. Whereas before he was antsy about leaving, now he feels nervous about arriving. 

He knows he has nothing to worry about, but there is such an aura to Yoongi that feels stifling at times, especially when Hoseok walks into a room unsure of which version of the man to expect. Will he be cold or warm?

When Hoseok's phone buzzes, he is a little surprised to receive a response. Yoongi is definitely better than average as far as communicators go, but Hoseok assumes he will be there early anyway, waiting in a booth that is tucked away in a corner. 

Magic Min I should arrive first, but if not, save us a booth, please, and thank you.

With a soft smile, Hoseok takes pride in how well he was able to predict Yoongi's actions and sends a thumbs-up emoji in response before tucking his phone back into his pocket and fishing out his lip balm. 

His lips are certainly not in need of being balmed, but there is a sharp chill to the breeze, making him feel self-conscious about them becoming dry. Or, perhaps, he just needs something to fidget with for a few moments. 

The walk to the restaurant is quick, taking Hoseok past several bars and cafes he was a regular at while in college. He misses the cozy, grimy atmosphere of certain dives, but this area is usually so packed with students that it tends to result in long lines and unnecessary drama. In the middle of the day, this stretch of businesses tends to be less chaotic, and Hoseok is relieved to find the street in front of the burger spot is mostly empty, save for a familiar black sedan. 

The pep in Hoseok's step trips him up once his right leg hesitates to move forward for a second just split enough to throw his rhythm off, and his palms tingle as the door to the sedan opens to the sidewalk and a familiar mess of dark hair appears from behind it. Yoongi stands with the door ajar and rests his arm on the top edge of it as Hoseok approaches, giving a smile warmer than anything Hoseok could expect, stirring butterflies to take flight in his stomach. 

Then Hoseok's gaze drifts to the driver's side where, through the windshield, he sees Seokjin give a playful snarl before opening his door and standing tall in a clear attempt to be intimidating. 

"Yah!" Seokjin yells, nodding his chin to Hoseok, who approaches and stops beside the front passenger tire, keeping his eyes on Seokjin despite feeling Yoongi's gaze burning into him. "Yoongichi says you called me a goon!"

At this, Hoseok raises his eyebrows and turns his attention to Yoongi, doing his best not to absolutely swoon at the sight of him as he shouts, "Did he?" in response. 

Yoongi mirrors his eyebrow raise and shrugs, giving Hoseok a smile far too playful for his heart to handle, and drawls, "I told you I would."

Turning back to Seokjin, Hoseok responds, "Well, you do come to his beck and call. And you drove him here today! Very goon-like behavior if you ask me."

Seokjin gives an incredulous shake of his head and begins shouting in a rapid succession of syllables, "Yah, Hoseokah, just because you have neither the class nor income to require an assistant—" 

But Yoongi clears his throat, cutting Seokjin off with a raspy, "That's enough," with a fond smile as he steps away from the vehicle to close the door. 

"This isn't finished, Hoseokah!" Seokjin shouts before getting back into his vehicle, and Hoseok shoots him an okay hand sign while mouthing the word before swallowing thickly and turning his attention entirely to Yoongi. 

"I told you to be afraid," Yoongi chides, and Hoseok feels his cheeks warm.

"What could he do?" he asks, fidgeting his hands in front of him while attempting to keep his voice level and cool. "I'm sure he's all talk."

Yoongi stands with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing a navy blue knit sweater with a neckline and bottom hem that appear fashionably distressed. Hobo-chic, as Hoseok likes to call it. 

Despite wearing loose-fit light denim jeans—cuffed at the ankle over a pair of navy and tan Nikes—Hoseok's eyes fall immediately to his ass the moment Yoongi turns to enter the restaurant, and he thanks his lucky stars that the sweater is loose enough cut to at least partially cover him. 

Sadly, Hoseok thinks, a butt like that is never fully concealable, and he lets out a sad sigh, lamenting over the knowledge that under all that material, Yoongi's gluteus maximus truly is maximus to the highest degree. 

It takes a moment for Hoseok to realize Yoongi is holding the door open for him, and when he lifts his gaze to find him with his arm outstretched, looking at Hoseok over his shoulder with a squint in his eyes, Hoseok clears his throat, blinks heavily and mutters, "S-sorry, your hem is weird...I was trying to figure it out."

Yoongi responds with a noncommittal hum at turns, entering the restaurant and releasing the door, which Hoseok quickly steps past as he rubs his clammy palms against his denim pants and attempts to get his head on right. He cannot be sexualizing his boss, especially when this same boss has a reputation for being a player. Getting wrapped up in a guy like Yoongi – more than he already is – is a bad idea. He knows it is a bad idea. 

The restaurant is busier than Hoseok expected, and Yoongi leads him back to a booth in the far left corner. Although Hoseok appreciates his penchant for getting as far away from other humans as possible, it does cause his nerves to spike knowing that the two of them will be more or less secluded once again. While at work, there have been so many other people around that Hoseok has not had a moment alone with Yoongi since the time in his home studio almost two weeks ago. 

"The reason I asked you to join me here," Yoongi begins before Hoseok has a chance to settle into the wooden seat, sliding to the center while watching Yoongi thumb through his phone, appearing bored, "is because I have already been getting campaign offers for you, but you do not have an agent on file."

"Ah," Hoseok responds, grabbing the menu despite already knowing what he plans to order so he can space out while looking down at it rather than up at Yoongi. When he affirms, "I do not have an agent," his voice betrays him, coming out a bit more meekly than he would like. 

"Well, for the time being, I can act as one for you," Yoongi offers as if it is nothing, making Hoseok glance up with a start to find Yoongi's eyes on him with his phone cradled in both hands. "I'm familiar with campaign managers. They would be showing in my magazine anyway, so I would still be leading the shoots. It cuts out a middleman and makes everything far more efficient for both of us. And, you would make more money."

"More...mon—" Hoseok's lips feel stuck in place as Yoongi responds to his inquiry before he has a chance to completely voice it. 

"Well, I certainly would not take a cut for acting as an agent. I already make enough from your pretty face as is."

The words pretty face ricochet around Hoseok's brain, and he nods shallowly while his vision goes foggy, turning Yoongi into a beige, black, and navy-colored blob while he attempts to wrap his head around the offer. Taking on high-end brands is the dream, and Yoongi presenting the prospect as if it is the easiest thing in the world has his mind racing.

"Which company?" Hoseok asks once he finally has his wits about him, and he blinks Yoongi back into view to watch his stern face become soft with a smile. 

Yoongi opens his mouth to respond just as a server approaches, and Hoseok is so focused on the words he never says that the appearance of another person makes him startle and swear under his breath. 

Through a chuckle, Yoongi orders the two of them beer, then asks Hoseok if he needs a moment to look at the menu, smiling when Hoseok shakes his head and mutters, "Nah, I know what I would like," and orders his usual double cheeseburger and fries.

As the server leaves, Hoseok takes a fortifying breath in the hope of returning to the conversation at hand, but he feels strangely out of it, spacing out at the wooden table between him and Yoongi.

"Dior," Yoongi says, and Hoseok gasps as he looks up, searching Yoongi's face for a hint that he might be joking. This would certainly be a horrible joke, but Hoseok is still not sure he has Yoongi's sense of humor figured out. 

Instead, when Yoongi does nothing but watch him squirm, he responds, "Be serious," with a frown.

"I am serious," Yoongi responds. "Men's wear and cologne. They want you in the front, center, and back of my magazine modeling their products."

The highest paying positions in a magazine – the money shots, as he and the boys call them. Dior wants Hoseok to model the money shots for them.

"This feels fake," Hoseok mutters, finding it absolutely impossible to wrap his mind around. Sure, he is a stunning man who works hard for his craft, and yes, he did manage to get one of the most important fashion magazines in the country to want to work with him...but Dior?

"What did I tell you?" Yoongi asks with a slight frown, leaning forward with his elbows against the table. 

Instinctively, Hoseok sits back, creating as much distance between the two of them as possible. Yoongi continues to watch him silently and patiently, and Hoseok begins feeling embarrassed to be under such a scrutinous gaze. 

"With you, I can be great," Hoseok mutters, knowing he is selling himself short even now, unsure why he finds it so hard to be excited about his dream beginning to come true.

"Show-stopping," Yoongi corrects as he raises his brow. "You will be great. Better than great."

The server sets down two dark beers, and Yoongi presses one toward Hoseok before taking his own and having a drink. It tastes similar to the beer they had at the pizzeria – malty and just a bit hoppy – and Hoseok finally finds a small smile gracing his lips as Yoongi's words begin to fully sink in.

"Dior," He says with his lips pressed against the chilled rim of his pint glass. 

"Dior," Yoongi confirms, and this time, when Hoseok meets his eye, he cannot help but feel a burst of affection behind his ribs. 

As he takes another drink from his glass, Yoongi's eyes stay on him as if he is eager for a confirmation of some kind, with his expression hard to read, save for a glimmer in his eyes. 

"How does a company like Dior know I exist?" Hoseok blurts. 

"I submitted some samples to them," Yoongi responds with a shrug, making Hoseok's eyes widen; he cannot believe Yoongi would do something like that for him.

"But…why?" he asks over the rim of his beer glass.

Yoongi tilts his head slightly, eyes drifting from left to right over Hoseok's face. "Are you so shocked that I would see something in you that Dior might want?"

Truthfully, no. Hoseok knows he has talent and can look the part for Dior. Perhaps he is just surprised that Yoongi would extend this type of kindness to one of his models. 

"No," he admits, watching as the edges of Yoongi's mouth rise. "Not shocked about that, just surprised that you went out of your way to submit samples. My cover hasn't even gone to print."

"And yet they chomped at the bit," Yoongi mutters with a smirk.

If Dior sees something in Hoseok, he knows he would be a fool not to accept. Especially if Yoongi seems to have an in with them.

"Alright," Hoseok says, setting his glass on the table and nodding his head. He holds out a hand, which Yoongi glances down at before slowly raising his own, only grabbing onto it when he says, "We have a deal, boss."

"Well," Yoongi adds with a chuckle while allowing Hoseok to emphatically shake his large, warm hand, "we don't have a deal yet; we need to discuss the actual contract. But I am glad that you are so excited."

Hoseok releases the handshake with a nervous chuckle and returns to gripping onto his chilled beer glass with both hands. Meanwhile, Yoongi lifts his phone and begins going over a contract, explaining the terms to Hoseok. The food is dropped off mid-conversation, and Yoongi mutters, 

"I'll send a copy to you, and tomorrow you can come by and sign it if you have time?"

Tomorrow. Dior wants to sign him, Yoongi wants to see him again tomorrow, and Hoseok stares at his food while his heart thumps happily in his chest.

* * *

The night is a blur of alcohol and grinding against the hot, sweaty bodies of his friends. Hoseok does not tell the others why he is celebrating, not wanting to jinx things.

But he does whisper to Jimin while on the dance floor that there is talk of a pretty big offer and that tomorrow, he and Yoongi will be going over the contract to finalize details. And then, from there, everything fades to black. 

Hoseok wakes up feeling exhausted and stretches his limbs with a deep groan. Try as he might to remember what else happened the night before, he falls short. He was talking to Jimin about Yoongi, and then...? 

A jolt of anxiety works its way through Hoseok as he worries he may have said too much about Yoongi. He rubs his palms over his eyes in embarrassment as he reaches for his phone to check his notifications. Thankfully, there is nothing but a message from Jimin that does not seem to suggest Hoseok said too much, although it does suggest that he did say something.

Jimin Don't forget, we agreed that you would wear something slutty to his studio today!!!

A pact between Hoseok and Jimin to wear something slutty could mean that Hoseok has confessed his feelings for Yoongi – especially for Yoongi's ass. But it could also be a completely innocuous, everyday occurrence. And there really is no way to know without finding out. 

With a deep, fortifying sigh, Hoseok gets to work.

Hoseok And was this slutty pact apropos of anything, or just something we decided on for shits and giggs?

It takes approximately ten seconds for Hoseok's phone to begin ringing with a video call, and he rolls his eyes, runs a hand through his hair, and sits back against the wall, holding the device at a flattering, high angle. He does not have a chance to say one word before Jimin's voice is booming through the speaker, matching the wide expression on his face. 

"You silly whore!"

Hoseok clears his throat as he responds, "Good day to you too, sir."

"Do you really not remember the conversation we had last night about Magic Min and his big, pretty hands?"

With a scoff, Hoseok feels affronted, mostly by his own drunken loose lips, and he presses a palm to his chest and gasps. Jimin cracks up laughing, then opens his mouth to say more before Hoseok cuts him off, feeling a sudden surge of paranoia.

"Wait! Scan around the room so I can make sure nobody is there."

With a huff, Jimin complies, muttering under his breath about how he thought they were best friends, but apparently, Hoseok does not trust him. Jimin's room is bright and floral, with clothing draped over absolutely every surface, and Hoseok is pleased to find that there are no other men in the room to overhear them.

"What did I say, exactly?" Hoseok asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Wow," Jimin laughs, shaking his head, "you really did black out, huh?"

With a groan, Hoseok grows impatient, and he raises his eyebrows, urging the other to go on. 

"Alright, alright," Jimin concedes with a huff, laying flat on his back with his phone held in the air, pink hair fanned around his sleepy doll face. "You mostly muttered about his hands and his ass, and said you wanted to shoot your shot."

"Oh god," Hoseok grumbles, feeling embarrassed and letting his arm drop to a less flattering angle. "Did Jeongguk overhear me?"

Jimin rolls his eyes and laughs. "No. Jeongguk and Taehyung were sucking each others faces all fucking night, they did not overhear a single thing any person in the entire club had to say."

Hoseok senses a bitterness in Jimin's tone but chooses to ignore it, pressing on. "And then what? Is that really all I said?" 

"Yes!" Jimin insists, opening his eyes wide and angry. "You waxed poetic about his round little ass for like an hour. It was honestly too much. Too much! You need to get laid, preferably by him; I never want to hear about it again."

"Alright, alright," Hoseok grumbles, pouting and feigning offense. "Sorry for confiding in my best friend. I'll just find some other pretty twink to pour my heart out to."

Jimin sticks his tongue out and opens his mouth to respond, but a text notification from Yoongi pops down, and Hoseok stammers, "Sh-shit, he's texting me, gotta go!" and ends the call to the sight of Jimin looking as if he is ready to start yelling. 

Hoseok sits up straight, runs a hand through his hair as if to make himself presentable, and swallows thickly as he opens the message. 

Magic Min If you are available to go over the contract today, when might be a good time to send my goon to come pick you up?

Hoseok checks the time, relieved that it is only 10 am, and shoots off a quick text as he fumbles to get his feet untangled from his comforter.  

Hoseok I'm free any time after 12.

The jostling around makes Hoseok feel nauseated the moment he stands, and he wobbles on his feet, letting his butt hit the mattress while he attempts to breathe through the hangover-induced vertigo. After a grueling handful of seconds, he trudges forward to the shower and begins his routine, leaving his phone behind. 

Hoseok sits on the floor of the shower while water that is just slightly too hot for comfort beats down at him. He hugs his knees to his chest and rests his chin in the dip between them while attempting to weigh his options in a reasonable, mature manner. 

Already, he is falling for Yoongi's charm – there is no doubt about that. But if the man is going to be acting as his manager for the Dior shoots, there is absolutely no way he can encourage anything to happen between them. 

Although they are going to be signing a contract, it still feels too risky to allow Yoongi to have any more power over him than he may already have. Say Hoseok develops feelings for him, and Yoongi finds it to be some sort of weak spot that Hoseok has, making him vulnerable and easy to use. Hoseok could lose everything. 

After enough deliberation and spacing out, Hoseok shampoos his hair while remaining on the floor, then he begrudgingly gets to his feet – feeling incredibly woozy in the process and clinging onto the wet white tiled wall. He washes and rinses his body as best as he can, then gets out, shivering as he wraps a fluffy towel around his shoulders.

Hoseok towel dries his hair and body, then walks out into his bedroom in the nude, weighing his options. He could still dress slutty just to see where he might stand with the man, but even then…knowing could be too dangerous. It is probably in his best interest to dress casual – but still cute – and keep all of his impure thoughts about large, veiny hands and a perfectly round butt at bay. 

Before deciding on an outfit, Hoseok returns to his bed to check his phone. And although he is pleased to find a response from the man himself, he is a little disappointed by the message. 

Magic Min How about 3? I have a prior engagement this morning, but I can be ready to sit down with you then. 

Three is still several hours away, and Hoseok flings himself down onto his bed with an indignant sigh and groans. Sure, he has plenty of ways to spend his time between now and then, but the anticipation is going to eat away at his insides. He is far too eager to see Yoongi again. 

He supposes he could get dressed and go down to his favorite cafe for a nice greasy egg sandwich and attempt to work on his hangover, in the meantime. And if he dresses a little slutty for his errand and ends up wearing the same outfit to meet Yoongi later, that is his own business. 

Hoseok 3 sounds perfect, boss!

* * *

At 3 pm sharp, Hoseok receives a text message from the number he has affectionately saved in his contacts as Goon Squad, letting him know that his car has arrived. Hoseok shoots back a thumbs-up emoji, then slides his feet into black chelsea boots, checks his hair in a mirror beside the front door, pats down his pockets, and – with a spritz of Armani Code for women – does a twirl and heads out. 

He has opted for a similar outfit as the one he wore yesterday, but this white tee is stretched at the neck and hangs off one side, showing his clavicle. His tight blue jeans are ripped, and he wears a black leather belt and a thin black choker, completing the look with a black denim jacket. 

When Hoseok gets out to the sidewalk, he is pleased to find his favorite goon Seokjin parked at the curb in a familiar black sedan. As soon as he opens the passenger door, Seokjin tuts his tongue, making Hoseok laugh. 

"Yah, no speaking to me," Seokjin snorts, holding up his palm as if to deflect Hoseok's greeting.

Hoseok gives the presented palm a high-five, chuckling to himself as Seokjin gasps, and then he settles in and buckles his seatbelt. Without another word, they take off down the street, making it exactly one and a half blocks before Seokjin starts conversation. 

"Yoongichi tells me you're being pursued by Dior."

Hoseok turns to Seokjin with his lips sealed tight and waits for the man to turn to him impatiently before raising his eyebrows. 

Exasperated, Seokjin sighs, "You may speak," while waving his hand in a circle in Hoseok's general direction. 

"Yup!" Hoseok chirps happily, flashing a wide smile that Seokjin clearly finds aggravating. 

Seokjin looks between Hoseok and the road several times, shouting, "What? That's all you have to say for yourself?"

With a shrug, Hoseok turns his attention out the window, watching as the buildings along the street become more expensive. "There's not much else to say." As Yoongi's apartment building comes into view, he adds, "I'm excited." 

"Well, good," Seokjin responds with just a hint of insistence. "You should be excited. Yoongi is extremely picky about who gets those top ad spots, but I had no doubt it could be you."

Although Hoseok's heart pounds, both from the weight of Seokjin's words and the proximity to Yoongi's apartment, he keeps his voice as calm as he can while crooning, "Awe, you're just saying that to butter me up."

Seokjin gasps, affronted, making Hoseok giggle as he shouts, "I butter up no man!"

"Sure," Hoseok responds, doing his best to sound unconvinced. 

As they pull to the curb, Seokjin sits back in his seat and waits for Hoseok to exit. "I trust you know the way," he chirps when Hoseok makes no move to get out.

Hoseok unfastens his belt and opens the door unceremoniously, offering Seokjin a wave of his hand but saying nothing. His palms are prickling with sweat, and he is more than a little anxious about seeing Yoongi again. 

He also has no idea whether he should alert Yoongi to his arrival or if Seokjin has, but he shuffles through the entrance and toward the elevator, reaching for his pocket to retrieve his phone to send a text. 

Right on time, the elevator doors slide open, and Hoseok glances up to find Yoongi standing with one arm crossed over his chest and the other holding his phone, which he is looking down at. Hoseok hesitates long enough for Yoongi to glance up and raise his eyebrows.

He stumbles forward, struggling to pick up his feet fast enough, hoping Yoongi does not notice. If it were not for the very gentle tug of the corner of Yoongi's mouth, which Hoseok spots just as he enters the elevator, he would think his little flub had gone undetected. 

"Nervous?" Yoongi asks softly, almost invitingly, sending a chill along Hoseok's spine.

"I guess so," Hoseok admits; no use in trying to play it cool when his career is being discussed. 

It is not as if Yoongi is unused to these types of conversations with models, although Hoseok does wonder how many of them Yoongi has acted as an agent for. Now that he is standing in the elevator – the door of which is sliding open on the fourth floor – Hoseok wonders if he has made a mistake. 

Yoongi presented the idea as if it was the simplest thing in the world, but could Hoseok be giving this man too much power? Should he have done some research to find out how to be prepared for a situation like this?

Yoongi exits the elevator first and punches a number on the keypad to unlock his studio, then he steps inside, holding the door with the tips of three fingers. Hoseok follows behind, silently taking in a deep breath of the musk that hangs around the room, eyes lingering on Yoongi's fingers as they brush away from the edge of the door and drop. 

Once inside, Hoseok kicks out of his sneakers and robotically walks toward the couch, where Yoongi has set a stack of papers and a glass of water on the table before it. He shrugs out of his leather jacket and drapes it over his arm, hugging it tightly to his tummy.

"Would you like something to drink?" Yoongi offers, veering off toward the kitchen. 

"Water is fine," Hoseok calls back, walking past where everything is set, so Yoongi can sit there.

The leather cushion whines under Hoseok's weight as he sits, and he scoots forward, knees tilted in toward the empty spot where he assumes Yoongi will sit, with his hands resting on his thighs. He places his jacket to the side, bunched up against the cushion.

Yoongi approaches and sits where Hoseok expected he would, also scooting forward on the edge, somewhat stiffly, like he is regretting having sat at all. He leans to set the glass of water in front of Hoseok, and Hoseok instinctively leans away. 

"The contract is pretty simple," Yoongi drawls, sounding tired. "Please take all the time you need to read it over if you have not done so already. We have lawyers on standby if you would like for me to get anyone on the phone, but this contract does not differ much from the one you have already signed with me. When you are ready, come knock on the studio door and we will continue to discuss what comes next."

"Oh," Hoseok mutters, somewhat disappointed that Yoongi is going to leave the room. "Okay. Sounds good."

With a sigh, Yoongi places his hands on his knees, stands, and walks off toward the studio. Hoseok follows his movements, noting the very simple attire of a black tee tucked into black athletic pants with white stripes on the sides. 

He is surprised to see Yoongi so dressed down and wonders what kind of prior engagement he might have had before this meeting. He wonders if Yoongi is dating someone; could they be upstairs in his apartment right now? Something like envy swirls in his insides, and he decides he needs to stop thinking about this. 

Hoseok reaches for the glass, letting the cool condensation on the outside cover his palm and pull him back to earth. The water is cold as it goes down, making Hoseok shiver, and he has a nice big gulp of it before setting it back onto the table. 

With a deep, fortifying breath, he unceremoniously wipes his palm onto his pant leg, then reaches for the contract. And he does his best to read through it – he really does. But he is distracted by Yoongi's proximity, even from the other room, and he keeps catching his thoughts drifting back to the man dressed down in black, wondering what he might be working on in his studio. 

From what he can tell, there is nothing that gives Yoongi any more power or money; although Yoongi is stated as his representative, nothing changes in terms of how much decision-making power he has, as he still has full control over what does and does not make it into the magazine, and he remains the lead photographer. All of these are already stipulations for Hoseok working at the magazine in the first place.

No cuts or shares of Hoseok's profits will make it to Yoongi's pockets – he sees the word entitled a lot, referring to his own earnings – and if Hoseok is unhappy with the Dior campaigns, he has the right to sit down with Yoongi and the Dior team and discuss his desires, including but not limited to backing out of the contract. It seems – if he is reading correctly – that he really has nothing to lose. 

Hoseok wonders if he should sign the document before realizing Yoongi had never left him with a pen. So, he gets up with a quiet sigh – contract in hand – and walks toward the studio. Anxiety rises with each step, and he knocks on the partially open door, then peeks his head inside. 

Yoongi sits leaning back with his eyes closed, hands resting between the back of his head and the seatback of the chair. It takes him just a moment to open his eyes, notice Hoseok, and slowly sit forward. Hoseok makes note of how surprisingly toned Yoongi's upper arms are before they slowly drop down to his sides, and how pretty he looks with his eyes closed and face completely relaxed. 

"Come on in," Yoongi says as he reaches forward and clicks a button that shuts off his monitor, causing the faint white glow of the screen to go out. The lighting in this room is dim, made more so by the absence of that light, with only a gold glow from a deskside lamp to fill this space consisting of a black ceiling, floor, and walls.

"Everything looks fine," Hoseok says as he steps slowly through the room, doing his best not to clench the contract in his hand, wondering why he feels so tense.

"Good to hear," Yoongi responds, standing from his chair. 

Yoongi reaches for the document, which Hoseok hands over, and he sets it down, leaning his left hand against the desk. Hoseok's eyes trace the veins in Yoongi's arm as he turns to the last page, finds a pen sitting uncapped and ready on his desk, then signs and dates it. 

"I get no shares or profits; you are entitled to everything you make," Yoongi says as he uses his fingertips pressed to the center of the papers to spin them so they face Hoseok. "And, I am sure you noticed, there is a clause in this contract that gives us the right to break it without consequence. This is simply a formation to provide a document stating my agency over you during these shoots."

"Thank you," Hoseok mutters as he gently takes the pen from Yoongi and signs and dates the contract. 

Yoongi stands hunched over the desk with his palms planted firmly against it, and when Hoseok looks up from signing, their heads are surprisingly close together. Hoseok's eyes drift down to Yoongi's lips for only a blink of a second, then he meets his eye and gives a soft smile. 

"Now what?" Hoseok asks. 

He feels like he should stand up straight or take a step back – anything to lessen the tension that hangs thick and inviting the longer he and Yoongi hover in this proximity. The dewy, soft musk that emits from Yoongi is intoxicating, and Hoseok takes a slow, silent inhale, filling his chest with it. 

Yoongi smiles, rolls his shoulders back, and stands up straight, much to Hoseok's chagrin – though he knows it is for the best. 

"Celebrate?" Yoongi suggests, raising an eyebrow. 

"Celebrate, how?" Hoseok asks as he stands up straight, heart pounding. 

Yoongi shrugs. "I should have a bottle of champagne in my apartment. Shall we?"

"Oh, s-sure," Hoseok stammers as Yoongi begins to walk past him toward the door. The prospect of seeing Yoongi's apartment has Hoseok feeling excited and far more nervous than signing the contract could have. 

Yoongi exits the studio and hovers around the door, closing it once Hoseok has walked through. Then he motions to the couch and says, "I'll be right back," walking toward the front door. 

Although he has absolutely no reason to feel disappointed that Yoongi is not inviting him up, his tummy stirs nauseatingly. Yoongi has invited him up before, so why is now any different?

With a nod and a very forced smile, Hoseok makes his way over to the couch and plops down. As soon as the front door clicks shut, Hoseok lets out a deep sigh and rests his head back, closing his eyes in an attempt to get his wits about him. 

Pining over Yoongi is of no use, especially now that the man is contractually bound to him as an agent, at least through the duration of the Dior shoots. For all he knows, it could only take them a week or two before everything is shot and ready. But it could also take months. Either way, he can manage to keep it in his pants that long; it is not as if Yoongi has ever made a move on him. 

He even questions whether he has feelings for Yoongi at all or if Yoongi's past tryst with Jeongguk makes him want to dip his toe into the pool out of spite for his friend. He has always been the competitive type; perhaps thinking he could get more from Yoongi makes him want to see just how far he could go. Hoseok knows he needs to knock off this line of thinking.

It does not take long for Yoongi to return, and by the time he does, Hoseok has already convinced himself to stop thinking about him so fondly. Just because Yoongi is handsome, and has a deep voice, and is insanely wealthy, and is the head of a very popular magazine, does not mean Hoseok should get his panties in a twist whenever the man smiles at him. Frankly, Hoseok tells himself in a very stern inner voice, it is embarrassing behavior. 

When Yoongi enters the flat clutching a bottle of champagne in his fist, his hair is tousled – messier than when he left. Hoseok does his best not to overthink it, but the way his waves frame his pretty face is distracting. Yoongi merely smiles as he enters and walks to the kitchen. 

"Join me over here?" Yoongi calls, causing Hoseok to tense and look over his shoulder. "In case popping this open makes a mess."

"Sure," Hoseok says under his breath as he stands and pads over to the kitchen. 

The kitchen is all long rectangles of light wood laminate that almost appears grey, with countertops in white and grey marble, with hardly anything atop. Everything appears far too sterile; this does not seem like the kind of kitchen someone like Yoongi would actually enjoy using. 

Then again, Hoseok reminds himself, he does not know enough about Yoongi to be making this type of judgment call. Perhaps the man really is as vapid and empty as this space. Still, he wonders if the actual kitchen Yoongi uses in his apartment is any different.

Yoongi opens a cabinet that is practically bare of contents, pulls out two long-stem champagne flutes, and sets them on the kitchen island. Hoseok stands along the side of the island, with Yoongi in front of him, just to the left. 

As Yoongi twists the end of the wire muselet that holds the cork in place, his smile grows, causing Hoseok to smile in turn. Hoseok expects a loud sound to follow the uncorking and manages to jump anyway, despite how soft the pop is. Yoongi pulls the top of the bottle free, only spilling a little foam as he tips the mouth toward one of the glasses and begins to fill them. 

"This is a very big deal," Yoongi says as he waits for the carbonation to drop and continues to fill the flutes, stopping when they are just over half full of actual liquid, with bubbles up to the brim. "I have already given Dior the go-ahead to begin sending outfits, so we can begin the shoots either Tuesday or Wednesday."

Yoongi slides a glass toward Hoseok, then grabs his own and continues. "As for tomorrow, I want you to spend the day with Namjoon. He will take you to the spa for a facial and full body massage, and then to get a manicure and pedicure. On Tuesday, Namjoon and I will figure out what to do with your hair. I like that you have grown the back out a little; I think we can work with it."

In just a few short minutes, Yoongi has managed to give Hoseok enough information that he simply stands with his fingers wrapped around the stem of his glass and heavy blinks. As everything settles over him, Hoseok clears his throat and manages to mutter, "Oh—okay."

Yoongi chuckles and shakes his head, then holds his glass up, and Hoseok follows suit, lifting his own. "You got Dior," he says, and Hoseok swallows a lump. 

"I did, thanks to you," he says before he can stop himself, cringing inwardly over how he must sound. 

Yoongi watches Hoseok for a beat before tilting his glass forward and tapping it against his. Hoseok lifts his to his lips, then takes a slow sip. The bittersweet liquid fizzes against his tongue, and he savors it as he slowly swallows it back. 

"You're quiet today," Yoongi teases with his glass held to his lips. 

The comment makes Hoseok feel shy, and he hopes his warming cheeks do not betray him by turning red. He almost apologizes before realizing he has nothing to be sorry for, and instead says, "It's just a lot to take in all at once."

"Fair," Yoongi says, tipping his glass back and emptying its contents into his mouth. 

"I'm very grateful," Hoseok says, raising his glass to drink more but pausing and lowering it. "How long do you think we will be shooting for this particular contract?"

With a shrug, Yoongi leans forward on his elbows against the marble, watching Hoseok with his head tilted. "A few weeks, maybe. It depends on how they feel about the photos."

"And then what?" Hoseok asks with his lips against the rim of the glass, tilting it back to finish its contents. 

Yoongi stands up straight and continues to regard him with a difficult-to-read expression, head slightly tilted. "What do you mean?"

As soon as Hoseok sets his empty glass down, Yoongi lifts the bottle and fills it back up. Hoseok leans on his elbows, displeased with how they dig into the hard, cool surface. 

"I just mean when the contract ends," he nervously clarifies, "will there likely be more? Or will this be a one-time thing?"

"I suppose we have not discussed long-term plans," Yoongi says as he scoots forward a glass two-thirds full of champagne, to the brim with bubbles. "Ordinarily, models shoot with us with the goal of getting onto the cover and centerfold. You're already achieving that."

Hoseok reaches for his glass and straightens back out, lifting it to his lips. He supposes that with the cover promised to be his, there really is nowhere else he can go with M Magazine, outside of ad campaigns. 

"Once you have the shoot with Dior under your belt, there will be an endless line of companies looking for you. And not just with my magazine; companies will want you front, back, and center of countless publications. I will be shocked if you are not invited to fashion shows after this."

"So I will need to find a proper agent," Hoseok laments, already concerned about what that process may look like. 

"Eventually, it would be for the best," Yoongi agrees, lifting his glass to drink half of its contents. "I know people; I can start making phone calls and finding out who would be a good fit. You will want to conduct interviews and make sure to find someone who can best represent you."

With a sigh, Hoseok lets his arm drop slowly, resting his elbow against the marble with his glass dangling between his fingertips. Already, he feels a bit tipsy, and he realizes he should have eaten something before coming over here. 

"Seems like a lot," he grumbles quietly.

"It's not too bad," Yoongi responds. 

Hoseok drinks back the rest of his champagne and sets the flute down. When Yoongi shoots his drink back and reaches once more for the bottle, Hoseok chuckles. 

"I should probably eat something," he admits, eyes falling to the marble counter. 

"I could order some take out," Yoongi offers.

Hoseok's gaze lifts to find Yoongi with his elbows against the countertop, eyes on him. Tension hangs, and Hoseok wonders if Yoongi feels it. He hopes desperately that Yoongi does not.

"Alright," Hoseok agrees. Yoongi was the one who told Hoseok to never turn down payment when it is offered, and he thinks food counts as payment.

"There's a halal spot I like," Yoongi suggests, and Hoseok's stomach grumbles in response just thinking about falafel. 

"Yes, please," he says perhaps a little too eagerly, making both of them chuckle. 

Yoongi wastes no time taking out his phone and placing an order, and Hoseok sips on his champagne, easing into the idea of sharing more meals with his boss. 

He turns and leans against the countertop, elbows against cool marble, and looks at the poster-sized magazine covers on the other side of the room. He wonders whether Yoongi ever hung Jeongguk on his wall but decides not to ask.

* * *

Spa day with Namjoon is everything Hoseok could hope it would be and so much more. The two of them wear matching black tees and joggers, which they agree upon over the phone before Namjoon picks him up, and they swing by a cute little bakery for pastries and coffee, and then set out for a day of pampering, all on Yoongi's dime. 

Namjoon is excellent company and participates in each activity. He even has his nails painted a shimmery black while Hoseok gets a manicure, and apologizes profusely for being so ticklish during a pedicure. 

They get facials and massages, and Hoseok does his best to ignore the deep, whiny grunts Namjoon makes while the masseuse walks across his back, all while struggling to keep his own sounds at bay. At the end of the day, when they are both properly pampered and feeling relaxed, Namjoon pulls up to a museum. 

"No spa day is complete without a leisurely walk through some galleries," he insists, and Hoseok agrees. 

He hardly sees any of the art, busy instead thinking about Yoongi and all that he has already done for him. Eating with him last night felt so comfortable, like spending time with a friend. A friend for whom Hoseok has a big fat fucking crush on, but a friend, no less. 

Except, Hoseok knows Yoongi is not his friend, and therein lies so many conflicting feelings. 

While in front of a giant painting of water lilies, Hoseok clears his throat and mutters, "Hey, Namjoon? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Namjoon responds, standing tall and turning his attention to Hoseok.

"Does Yoongi always go out on a limb for people?"

Namjoon chuckles and says, "Yes and no. Mostly no. Why do you ask?"

Hoseok swallows thickly, eyes trailing across the painting. He has no idea why he suddenly feels so shy. "I guess…I don't know…I heard he has a reputation for being cold…but he's been super nice and helpful to me."

"You're a good investment," Namjoon says simply. 

It is not quite the answer Hoseok wants to hear, but it does make sense. "Ah."

"And I think he has a bit of a soft spot for you," Namjoon says, much quieter, making Hoseok perk up. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"Yes I absolutely did!" Hoseok responds, turning his full attention to Namjoon. "Say more!"

Namjoon chuckles and sways before turning and slowly walking toward another large painting of flowers, these ones standing tall in a vase. 

"He just seems softer these days," Namjoon mutters with a shrug. He turns to Hoseok, showing off his dimpled smile as he says, "He's even being nicer to people."

This is alarming, and suddenly Hoseok feels eager to change the topic. It feels dangerous to think that Yoongi has a soft spot for him. 

"I suppose having a good investment puts the man in a good mood," he says, shrugging the information away despite the quickening of his pulse. 

"It's true," Namjoon replies. "So don't make the same mistake the others did and catch feelings. I see the way he looks at you…ignore it. I'm serious."

Hoseok rolls his eyes. "As if," he grumbles despite knowing he already is catching feelings, and fast. 

* * *

Hoseok's first day as a Dior model is perhaps the best day of his life. 

Namjoon dresses him in grey with a thick, long-sleeve shirt tucked into matching pants. He includes a demi-skirt that attaches with a buckle around his waist, hanging over his left leg in long pleats down to his ankle, and he picks out chunky, futuristic-looking white and grey high-top sneakers. To complete the look, Namjoon chooses a thick silver necklace and black sunglasses, and he slicks Hoseok's hair back. 

"Look cocky," Yoongi instructs with a stern expression, eyes only leaving his camera viewfinder to give quick orders. "Chin up like you own the fucking place."

Hoseok obeys, smirking and tipping his chin upward. He raises an arm, hand held out as if to show off – as if to say, watch me shine.

"Perfect," Yoongi says, dropping his arms to his side, camera in his right hand with the strap wrapped around his wrist. He winks, giving Hoseok butterflies as he says, "Show-stopping."

* * *

The rest of the week feels like a blur. Hoseok is dressed in more lavish designer clothing, all of which he is given at the end of each shoot. He cannot wait to brag to Jimin; he plans on waiting until he has enough of the men's collection to bring Jimin over and open up his closet with fanfare and applause. 

Despite his cold demeanor at work, Yoongi offers to drive Hoseok home twice, both times claiming he has business on that side of town. Both times squeezing Hoseok's knee and telling him he is doing great. 

Hoseok's heart pounds as he exits Yoongi's car for the second day in a row. He glances back from the door of his apartment building and then scurries quickly inside when he realizes Yoongi is watching him. 

"What am I doing?" he mutters to himself as he sprints up the short flight of stairs, eager to get all of his energy out. 

He unlocks his apartment and leans against the door to close it tight, winded and attempting to get his thoughts together. It is impossible not to dwell on what Namjoon said to him on Monday about Yoongi becoming softer with him around. 

His wandering thoughts always circle back to wondering whether Yoongi has feelings for him. I see the way he looks at you, Namjoon said, and Hoseok cannot stop dwelling on it.

It infuriates Hoseok to think about how badly he wants to text Yoongi and call Yoongi. He wants to be invited to eat another meal with Yoongi, and he wishes he could ask Yoongi for his opinion on random bullshit like fallen empires and wainscoting – anything to get the man talking; it doesn't matter what the subject is.

He wants to cultivate an actual friendship with Yoongi, but he has no idea what that looks like. How does someone befriend an enigma? How does Hoseok – a man who is working on becoming a star – befriend someone whose full face has never knowingly been seen at public events?

Hoseok kicks out of his sneakers and paces around his living room. He really wants to go out and drink with his friends, but he has an early morning tomorrow. It is the final day of shooting for Dior, and he has to pose with a bottle of cologne. 

So instead, Hoseok opts to take a bath. He leaves a trail of his clothing from the living room to the bathroom, and once the tub is full of warm, bubbly water, he sinks all the way down until only his face sticks out.

Hoseok's phone buzzes against the closed lid of his toilet, and he perks up. Although he is curious about the source of the buzz, he feels too relaxed and warm to lift his arm. But then it buzzes again and again, and his interest becomes too piqued to ignore. 

With a sigh, Hoseok lifts his arm from the sudsy water, dries his hand on a towel that is folded beside his phone on the toilet lid, and picks up the device. He unlocks the screen, opens his messenger app, and nearly drops his phone in the tub.

Magic Min Excellent work today, Hoseok! 

Magic Min All week, really. You're killing it.

Magic Min How comfortable do you feel with shooting nude?

Hoseok very unceremoniously dries his other hand, throwing water and bubbles onto the tile floor in the process, lips moving around unvoiced words as he reads and rereads Yoongi's last message.

Hoseok Nude???

Hoseok has never been one to shy away from nudity. While in college, he even posed nude for the figure drawing classes, and he was obsessed with seeing all the different ways the students managed to capture his likeness. 

But posing nude in front of his crush feels nerve-wracking, even if he has already posed in his briefs and gold paint. 

Magic Min For the fragrance shoot, I was thinking we cover you in some kind of shimmery dust and pose you with the bottle resting against your skin. Something delicate and tasteful. 

Delicate and tasteful. Hoseok hangs on those three words. 

Hoseok I can handle that! Sounds fun. 

Magic Min Perfect. I'll call Namjoon and tell him to bring a merkin for you tomorrow. 

Hoseok does a search for what a merkin is, and it takes a moment for his eyes to communicate to his brain just what he is seeing. But then he realizes that it is a small, adhesive accessory to put over his dick and balls so that he can be nude but covered without needing to have underwear on. 

He gasps and nearly drops his phone into the tub again. Then he tosses his phone onto the towel atop the toilet and sinks back into the water. 

* * *

Hoseok cannot stop staring at his reflection, eyes glued to the skin-toned swath of fabric that covers his junk in a thin little pouch. He turns and eyes up the small piece of fabric that comes from between his buttcheeks and sticks to his skin, and marvels at the wonders of human creation. 

"How does it feel?" Namjoon calls from the other side of the door. 

"Like a thong, I guess," Hoseok responds. "But smaller."

"Can I come in?"

It takes a few seconds for Hoseok to process Namjoon's request, and he stares at his nearly nude body in the mirror, stammering around, "Y-yeah, uh, I guess."

Namjoon opens the door quickly and slips into the black-tiled bathroom. He holds a canister of spray-on glitter, and he eyes Hoseok's handy work quickly, making sure the adhesive does not run the risk of coming loose. 

"I never get used to seeing these when they're skin-toned," Namjoon says as he removes the cap from the can and begins to shake it. "It's so strange to see a man naked but with no genitals, you know?"

Hoseok laughs, feeling his anxiety lift some. "Totally."

Namjoon reaches into the pocket of his flowing black slacks and pulls out two black masks. "I don't need either of us breathing this shit in," he says as he hands one to Hoseok and then puts the other over his mouth and nose.

"Thanks, Joonie," Hoseok says as he puts his mask on. Then he stands up tall and waits to be sprayed.

"This is gonna be cold," Namjoon warns, making Hoseok chuckle. This is the second time he has heard that since joining M Magazine. 

Namjoon is quick but thorough as he sprays cold glitter all over Hoseok's body. Then he ushers Hoseok from the bathroom to the makeup chair in the next room over and uses a shimmery powder on Hoseok's face and neck, and adds some to the already existing shimmer on his shoulders and chest. 

"How often do you guys do nude shoots?" Hoseok asks as his nervousness begins to ramp up. 

Namjoon's face is mere inches away from his own as he applies black mascara to Hoseok's lashes. "Not too often. Why?"

Hoseok shrugs, staring at Namjoon's concentrating face. "It's just…you know…this is the second time I've been stripped down and covered in gold."

Namjoon cracks a smile, then takes a step back. "You're not wrong."

"I get it," Hoseok says, finally allowing himself to blink. "I'm pretty sexy."

"Of course you are," Namjoon quips back. "Everyone Yoongi scouts is."

Once again, Namjoon comes in hot with shit that is not quite what Hoseok wants to hear. But he is grateful for how candid Namjoon always is with him. It's nice.

"All set?" Namjoon asks. 

Hoseok nods, feeling a bit shy to leave this room. 

"It's just me and Yoongi on set, so you don't have to worry about too many wandering eyes."

With a deep exhale, Hoseok mutters, "That's a relief."

The studio is warmer than usual, for which Hoseok is thankful. He walks with careful steps and approaches what looks like a bed resting in the middle of the room with a black backdrop. A fuzzy white sheet hangs from the small, raised mattress, and when Hoseok approaches and presses his hand into it, he is surprised to find it is filled with water.

"I want you on your stomach," Yoongi says, approaching from another room, causing Hoseok to startle and gasp. "Would you be offended if we placed the cologne bottle against the small of your back?"

"N-no," Hoseok mutters as he assesses how the hell to get up onto the water mattress. Luckily, Namjoon walks over with a small wooden step stool and offers Hoseok a hand. 

Hoseok very carefully crawls to the center of the mattress, knees digging into whatever hard surface is beneath, and then he lays down. As he does, the mattress dips and creates a shape reminiscent of a cloud around him. 

"Arms bent with your chin resting on your hands," Yoongi instructs, and Hoseok does as he is told, anchoring himself up on his elbows. "Maybe bend your legs? One more than the other, like you are kicking them back and forth."

Hoseok lifts his feet and bends his right leg more than his left. Then he does his best to take slow, shallow breaths in preparation for the bottle to be placed. 

"Namjoon, would you mind adding some shimmer to his feet?"

Namjoon mutters, "Of course, boss," and very delicately brushes shimmer onto the bottoms and sides of Hoseok's feet, making him thankful he got a pedicure earlier in the week. 

It feels awkward to lay in place, especially with a cold glass container placed on the small of his back. But Yoongi is quick with his shutter and wastes no time getting the shots and asking Hoseok to sit up. 

"Legs bent and crossed in front of you, with your feet elongated and pointing downward," Yoongi instructs. "Hold the bottle close to your face and give me a simple cold expression."

Hoseok lifts and crosses his legs, pointing his toes downward and doing his best to keep his merkin shielded behind his shins. He drapes his free arm over one knee, elongating his fingertips, as well, and holds the bottle close to his cheek, staring into the lens. 

"Stunning," Yoongi mutters, causing Hoseok's heart to pound. 

Yoongi continues to position Hoseok while Namjoon stays close by to gently dust gold shimmer over his skin, and the morning moves rather quickly. Once they are finished, Namjoon brings a long, fuzzy black robe out for Hoseok to cover himself with, and staff members enter, moving objects around to create a new set. 

"Break for lunch," Yoongi says, flipping through photos. "I just have a quick shoot to finish with another model, then I want to go over these with you when you return."

"Sounds good, boss!" Hoseok replies, chipper and satisfied. 

He leaves the set in slippers and the robe, entering a common space where a table of food is laid out. Sandwiches and platters of fruits and vegetables greet him, and Hoseok grabs a white ceramic plate and gets to work filling it. 

Then he sits and enjoys his food, staring ahead at the empty white wall while thinking about the photoshoot. He had been so nervous that he hardly made eye contact with Yoongi – which was easy, considering Yoongi's eyes rarely left his viewfinder. 

Once he is finished eating, he walks the plate over to a plastic grey tub and places it inside with other dishes. Then he decides to return to the set and wait for Yoongi to be ready to speak with him, feeling eager to find out what he thinks of their shoot. 

Only, when he enters the set, he stops in his tracks. Yoongi has his camera hanging around his neck, leaning close to a model, and he very delicately pushes the model's long, jet black hair behind her ear. She says something that Hoseok cannot make out, then giggles, and when Yoongi leans closer to say something that makes her giggle more, Hoseok feels the urge to throw up. 

"Oh, hey Seok," Namjoon says as he leaves the makeup room and approaches with his arms crossed over his chest. "Break over so soon?"

Yoongi turns to look at Hoseok at the same time Hoseok tears his gaze away to nod at Namjoon.

"I was bored," Hoseok lies, nodding toward the makeup room. "Left my phone in there."

"Ah," Namjoon says, nodding in understanding. "Well, Seori just has one outfit to model, so Yoongi should be finished quickly."

Hoseok swallows thickly and nods, muttering, "Sounds good," while trying not to let his smile betray him. 

"Just give me a couple minutes," Yoongi calls, and Hoseok nods, eyes looking anywhere but at him. 

Yoongi proceeds to photograph the pretty model, who smiles brightly, giggling each time Yoongi tells her to move her limbs this way and that. Hoseok watches as she gives intense fuck-me-eyes to Yoongi and his camera, and waits somewhat impatiently as she takes her time praising Yoongi a little too flirtatiously and rubbing his bicep with her hand. 

"Alright, Seori-ssi," Yoongi finally says, placing a hand over hers to make her stop. "I have more business to attend to, but thank you for being so flexible and coming in last-minute."

"I'm always flexible for you, sir," she says with a wink, to which Hoseok rolls his eyes before smiling sweetly and saying, "Nice work," when she walks by. 

"Sorry for making you wait," Yoongi says, staring down at his camera. "Step into my office?"

What Yoongi calls an office is the entire second floor of the two-story building. It is half the width of the building, on top of the makeup, equipment, and common rooms, and it overlooks the entire studio from a glass wall that stays mostly covered by thick black curtains. 

Hoseok follows Yoongi up a set of metal stairs with his hands sunken deep into the pockets of his fuzzy black robe. To his chagrin, Yoongi walks ahead, ass on display in tight black slacks. To make matters worse, Yoongi wears a tight black short-sleeve tee tucked into his slacks, and when he holds his office door open for Hoseok to enter, his arm flexes. 

Yoongi's office looks a lot like his apartment studio, minus the kitchen. Large brown leather couches create a square around a dark table made from strangely shaped reclaimed wood, poster-sized magazine covers line the walls, and on the far end of the space is a large wooden desk with a brown leather top and several brown leather chairs surrounding it.

Photography equipment and set pieces are stacked here and there, and the lighting is quite dim, only shining in a purple glow from the high corners, near the ceiling. The long black curtains are pulled completely shut, blocking out any light that could come in from the studio. 

Yoongi flips on a switch, brightening the space only slightly with a yellow glow, and he makes his way toward his desk, feet somewhat draggling, causing him to waddle ever so slightly. Hoseok follows, letting his gaze fall from Yoongi's ass to the dark wood floor, and he approaches the desk and begins to have a seat in one of the leather armchairs. 

"Come around this way," Yoongi says as he plops down into his computer chair and clicks the monitor on. "You can sit on the desk if you want. I don't care."

Hoseok hesitates, then rounds the desk. Ordinarily, he would opt not to sit on the desk in a robe and merkin, but he suddenly feels far more worn out than he had moments ago and does not feel like pulling a heavy leather chair over from the other side. 

Yoongi clicks around on his screen, then opens up files from today's shoot, filling the large monitor with nothing but Hoseok's skin covered in glitter. His ass and hips are prominent in many of the images, and he glances at Yoongi, watching the way his eyes trace along Hoseok's curves. 

"What did I tell you?" he asks, smile breaking out across his face. 

"You've told me a lot of things," Hoseok responds somewhat sheepishly, eyes glued to Yoongi's smile. 

Yoongi chuckles, then turns to Hoseok. He sits back, crosses his arms over his chest, and says, "Under the right lighting you're show-stopping in the nude."

Hoseok rolls his eyes dramatically and then begins to laugh, and he is thankful when Yoongi laughs, as well. 

Yoongi flips through the photographs, pointing out shots that he favors and complimenting Hoseok's expression and body language. They decide on a full body shot for the two-page centerfold and two closer shots for single-page spreads – one of Hoseok holding the bottle close to his face and the other with the bottle dangling from his outstretched hand. Then Yoongi shuts off his monitor and sits back with a sigh. 

"Thanks for being so accommodating," Yoongi says, staring at Hoseok as if he has more he would like to say.

Hoseok shrugs. "It's no big deal. I had fun."

Silence hangs, making Hoseok feel tense. He watches Yoongi, who watches him, and he does his best to block out the interaction he witnessed with the model Seori, but it feels impossible to take his mind off of it. 

"Need a ride home?" Yoongi finally asks. "I have to go that way."

"Sure," Hoseok responds. "That would be nice."

Yoongi stands and hovers in a way that prevents Hoseok from standing up from the desk. 

"Sorry you had to see Seori flirting with me," he says so quietly, Hoseok wonders if he is making it up.

When Hoseok says nothing more, Yoongi's lips tug into a smirk. "I saw the way you were staring daggers into her."

Hoseok opens his mouth to respond, but only a scoff comes out. When Yoongi still doesn't back up, Hoseok raises an eyebrow and says, "I was staring daggers into both of you, actually."

"Oh?" Yoongi asks, smile widening. He slips his hands into his pockets, and Hoseok stops himself from looking at the way the fabric hugs his crotch. 

"Not that I'm surprised, or anything," Hoseok continues, eager to see how much he can get away with. "You have a reputation, after all."

Yoongi sneers and Hoseok cannot tell if there is playfulness behind the look. It makes his anxiety spike, which he does his best not to show. When Yoongi finally does open his mouth to respond, Hoseok's heart pounds even harder. 

"Don't tell me you are jealous, Hoseok." 

"Jealous?" Hoseok bites back, tasting bile on his tongue. "Why would I be jealous?"

Yoongi leans close, warm breath wafting over Hoseok's face, smelling of mint. "Flirting is all part of the job, you know. Sometimes it's easier to get these models to do what I want when I make them think they're special."

Anger rises, and Hoseok stares into Yoongi's eyes. "And what are you doing, now? Do you also call this flirting?"

Yoongi scoffs, mouth forming something between a smirk and a scowl. He looks briefly down at Hoseok's lips and shakes his head. 

"No. Right now I'm preventing myself from making a mistake."

Hoseok intakes a shaky breath, eyes falling to Yoongi's lips as he mutters, "A mistake?"

"Mmhmm."

"What mistake?" he asks, looking back into Yoongi's eyes. 

Yoongi tongues the inside of his mouth and shakes his head, then he takes a step back and nods toward the door. 

"Keep the robe if you want to. That way you don't get glitter on your clothing. I just need to close everything down and I'll meet you downstairs in a moment."

Hoseok nods, slides from the desk, and turns to leave the room. All he can think about is the fact that Yoongi seemed eager to kiss him just now, and he feels dizzy from the thought. What else could he have meant by making a mistake?

He wonders if Yoongi used the same bullshit line on Jeongguk. 

Hoseok makes his way down the metal steps and walks into the makeup room, which is the first door on the left at the bottom of the stairs. Namjoon has folded his clothing neatly and placed the garments into a large paper bag, with Hoseok's phone and wallet on top of the pile. 

"At least one person in this building isn't a confusing fucking asshole," he mutters under his breath. 

Hoseok pulls his phone from the bag and shoots a text off to Jimin—

Hoseok Tonight. Drinks. I need to let off some steam.

—then he turns to exit the room, shocked to find Yoongi standing in the doorway. 

"Boss?" he asks as Yoongi closes the door behind him and locks the handle. 

"Can you keep a secret?" Yoongi asks, making Hoseok's heart go haywire.

Hoseok swallows thickly and nods, muttering, "Y-yeah."

"Good," Yoongi responds, closing the space between them. Hoseok leans away instinctively, pressing his lower back against the makeup counter. "I wanted to kiss you. Was it obvious?"

"Yeah," Hoseok utters softly, nodding. "It was."

"It seemed like you wanted to kiss me, too."

Hoseok swallows thickly, gaze falling to Yoongi's lips. "Yeah. I did."

"But you understand why we can't do that, yes?"

Hoseok is painfully aware of the power Yoongi could hold over his head if he allowed even a sliver of intimacy to take place between the two of them.

"I do."

"Good. Glad to have that cleared up."

Yoongi is far too close for comfort, and Hoseok wishes he would take a step back and let him breathe. But instead, Yoongi stands still and quiet, watching Hoseok as if he is waiting for him to say something. 

But what the fuck could Hoseok possibly say? Thank him for wanting to kiss him? And for having the wherewithal to hold back? He would rather not say a word and hope that they can let this go without ever bringing it up again. 

"Shall we?" Yoongi finally asks, taking a step back. 

Hoseok lets out a deep breath, heavy-blinking as he nods. "Alright."

Yoongi turns and opens the door, and Hoseok gives him space before grabbing his bag and following. Now that all of that is out in the open, Hoseok feels strange about letting Yoongi drive him home. He can definitely afford to use a cab service now, but he decides he would rather spend that money later, at the club with Jimin. 

The ride home is quiet, and Hoseok cannot decide whether it is a good thing or not. Knowing Yoongi may have similar feelings for him only serves to make him feel more anxious around the man. 

Then again, Yoongi could just be using it as leverage to make Hoseok more accommodating. As he said, he flirts as a means to get models to do what he wants.

Hoseok hardly says goodbye when Yoongi pulls up to his place, and he does not turn to look at him, uttering a quick, "Thanks," before taking his leave. The moment he is inside his building, panic rises, and he feels the overwhelming urge to cry. 

* * *

"He what?" Jimin screams over loud club music. Hoseok looks around, thankful their other friends are nowhere to be seen. "I'm sorry, what the fuck?"

Hoseok nods and sighs. "Jeongguk was right. Dude's a fucking asshole."

"What kind of man teases you about the possibility of him making you jealous and then says, with his whole fucking chest, that he wants to kiss you but that it would be a mistake?"

"An asshole," Hoseok sighs. 

"Man, fuck that guy." Jimin is all riled up, stomping cutely in his shimmery black boots. He wears a black mesh top and a black tennis skirt with a white stripe just above the bottom hem, accentuating his incredible legs.

Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, causing glitter to rain down. Rather than shower when he got home earlier, he just changed out of the merkin and into a tight white tee and black booty shorts, and met Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk for drinks at a small dive bar while waiting for the club to open. He is still covered head to toe in glitter. 

Hoseok is rather drunk and has switched to water. And despite the night still being somewhat young, he feels the urge to call it a night and crawl into bed. 

"When does your Dior contract end?" Jimin asks, tilting his head in concern. 

"Not sure. It could be over now, unless they decide to shoot more outfits."

"Annoying," Jimin huffs. "He should be more clear about that kind of thing."

Hoseok hums. 

"The one time the man can't fucking communicate," Jimin adds, making Hoseok laugh despite not really feeling in the mood to.

"I'm grateful for all he has done," Hoseok says. He takes a drink of cold water from a flimsy plastic bottle that crackles loudly with each movement. "But it would have been better for him to just…not be the way he is. None of it is necessary."

"Exactly."

"Like, if he wants to kiss me then fine, whatever. But he doesn't have to corner me and make it into a whole weird ass thing!"

"Exactly!"

Hoseok sighs. "I might go home. Now that I'm out and drunk, I just feel sleepy."

"Valid," Jimin says, nodding. He turns and looks through the crowd long enough to spot their friends grinding on the dancefloor not too far from them. Then he turns back to Hoseok. "Get yourself to bed. I'm gonna try to suck one of their dicks tonight."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and pretends to gag, earning him a slap on the arm. He sits forward and wiggles his phone out from his back pocket, opens an app to call for a cab, then thumbs over to a message he received while ranting to Jimin. 

Min Asshole Think you could come in tomorrow? Dior wants one more outfit, and the deadline for the first draft is Monday.

Hoseok sighs and tips his head back, closing his eyes while contemplating his existence. It would be foolish to turn down more money, but he would rather pull his teeth out than see Yoongi again so soon. 

Hoseok Just saw this. I can, but I might be hungover.

Hoseok is shocked when his phone rings, screen lighting up with the name Min Asshole in big white text. He sighs and ignores the call, then sends Yoongi a text.

Hoseok At the club. 2 loud 2 talk on the phone. I can call in 10 when I get home.

Min Asshole Do you need a ride home?

Hoseok scoffs, then checks on his app to see that a cab will be arriving in three minutes. 

Hoseok Nah, taking a cab.

Min Asshole If you're up to shoot tomorrow, we can do it any time. I can pick you up whenever you're feeling up for it, even if it's later in the evening. 

Hoseok K.

Jimin sighs loudly, pulling Hoseok's attention. 

"Sorry. Min Asshole wants me to shoot more tomorrow."

This news causes Jimin to stand straight up, expression opening with surprise. "On a Saturday? You gonna do it?"

Hoseok shrugs. "May as well. I got a car coming though, so I'm gonna call it a night. Have fun with your…you know."

Hoseok lifts his hand and mimics sucking dick, pushing his tongue into his cheek. Jimin giggles and slaps him once more on the arm then opens his arms for a hug, which Hoseok steps forward to accept. 

"I'm sure one of them would be accommodating if you wanted to join us," Jimin offers, waggling his eyebrows. 

Hoseok wouldn't mind making Taehyung or Jeongguk whimper, but he's just not in the mood. "Thanks anyway, but I'm tired."

"Alright," Jimin says, reaching for his bright blue drink and chugging the rest of it back. "Text when you're home!"

"Will do," Hoseok says. 

His phone dings, signaling his car is pulling up, and he grabs his jacket and makes a beeline for the door. The driver says nothing the entire ride, and Hoseok stares out his window, doing his best to stay alert despite feeling rundown and exhausted. 

Once home, Hoseok shuffles up to his apartment, throws his belongings to the floor, and shimmies out of his clothing on his way to take a quick hot shower. He towels off in a hurry, rushes through his nightly skincare routine, and climbs into bed nude, clenching his phone in his hand. 

He wants to call Yoongi and give him a piece of his mind but he refrains, thinking in circles instead about Yoongi's behavior before drifting to sleep. 

When he wakes up, he feels exhausted. He sighs as he rubs the comforter in search of his phone, then he turns the screen on, sees that it is 9 in the morning, and closes his eyes to sleep longer. 

Unfortunately, his bladder has other plans for him, and after several long moments of laying as still as possible, he gives up with a groan and throws his comforter aside. He decides that he will go ahead and start the day, but he is not going to be happy about it. 

Begrudgingly, he shoots a text to Yoongi and slowly starts his morning routine. 

Hoseok I'm up. What's the plan, boss?

Hoseok is surprised when two hours pass before he hears anything. He half expects Yoongi to be the type to get up bright and early, ready to work. He is halfway through an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants when his phone vibrates. 

Min Asshole Pick you up at 3? Have you eaten?

With a little over two hours to spare, Hoseok decides he may as well agree and get it all over with. And although he has plenty of time to feed himself, he considers allowing Yoongi to spend more money on him. 

Hoseok 3 works. I have not eaten.

Three dots appear and Hoseok watches, waiting for a response to come. 

Min Asshole Perfect. Joonie keeps talking about this chicken spot that just opened in the neighborhood, so I plan to send him to grab a to-go order. Come hungry if that sounds good. 

It does sound good. Hoseok sends a thumbs-up emoji and sinks onto the couch. Between now and then, he plans to do nothing but space out. 

What he does not plan, however, is to fall asleep. Hoseok wakes to the sound of his phone ringing, and when he sees Min Asshole on the screen, he begins to panic.

"Shit," Hoseok mutters as soon as he answers the call. "I passed out."

"Oh," Yoongi says. "Do you need time to get ready?"

"Nah," Hoseok says through a yawn, sitting up tall to stretch his back and neck. "Just need to put on some shoes and brush my teeth. But, uh, not in that order."

"Cool," Yoongi responds. "Take your time."

"Are you here already?"

"I am."

"Alright. I'll be quick."

Hoseok hangs up the call and shuffles to his bathroom to brush his teeth and run a comb through his hair. He wears a set of black silk pajamas that he stumbled into this morning and he opts to stay in them, sliding his feet into fuzzy black Ugg slippers. 

He finds a small black handbag and packs his phone, wallet, and keys. Then he locks up and heads down the stairs and out into the sunny day. 

Yoongi is on his phone when Hoseok tries the door, and it takes him a second to put his phone away and unlock the door. 

"Good afternoon, sunshine," Yoongi drawls as he eyes up Hoseok's attire. His musky, floral cologne cloys Hoseok's senses, making him fight a sneer. 

Hoseok grunts, gets settled, and puts on his seatbelt. With a low chuckle, Yoongi drives off. 

"Hungover?" he asks at a red light. 

Hoseok keeps his eyes ahead but can see Yoongi turn to regard him. He shrugs and says, "Not so much after taking a nap. Now I'm just trying to wake up."

"That's good."

Hoseok nods somewhat listlessly and Yoongi laughs. 

"You're mad at me," he says. 

Hoseok shrugs, thankful for the light turning green so Yoongi has to look at the road. 

"Just tired," he lies. 

"Alright," Yoongi says.

The rest of the ride is quiet. Yoongi parks beside the curb in front of his building, and right as Hoseok gets out of the car, Namjoon pulls up behind them. 

"Great timing!" Yoongi shouts as he makes his way to Namjoon's vehicle. 

Hoseok does the same, albeit dragging his feet. Namjoon hands Yoongi a white plastic bag full of brown takeout boxes, and Yoongi walks ahead to unlock the building. 

Hoseok hangs back to greet Namjoon in a half hug, glad there is not more for him to carry. 

"He told me," Namjoon mutters, rubbing Hoseok's back. 

Hoseok tenses and then sighs. He supposes there is nothing to worry about with Namjoon but he does feel rather strange about it. What did he tell Namjoon, exactly? That he wanted to kiss Hoseok but chose not to?

"Thanks for the chicken," Hoseok says as they make their way to the building, trailing behind Yoongi, who stands in front of the elevator, waiting. 

"Yoon mentioned you might be hungover today," Namjoon says in a commiserating tone. "Nothing cures that quite like greasy food."

"True," Hoseok chuckles. "Fried chicken always hits the spot."

They make their way to the fourth floor, and Hoseok kicks out of his slippers and walks over to the couch, to the spot he always sits. Yoongi takes the food into the kitchen and begins to unpack everything. 

With Namjoon around, Hoseok is able to forget about how much he hates Yoongi's stupid, pretty guts. He averts his attention from Yoongi's messy long hair and how it falls in waves around his face. He successfully ignores how good Yoongi looks dressed down in a black t-shirt and tight blue jeans. 

Namjoon wears a soft white sweater with lapels that hang open, showing hints of skin, and loose-fitted blue jeans from which his toes barely stick out, and he looks soft and snuggly – the perfect distraction from his asshole boss. 

They eat fried chicken and tteokbokki, then Namjoon works his magic making Hoseok's eye bags disappear. Yoongi presents Hoseok with a silk shirt to replace his current silk shirt, and Hoseok begins to unbutton his top right here in the middle of the small, dimly lit studio. 

Since these two men have seen Hoseok almost entirely nude, he has no interest in modesty. He is too physically, emotionally, and spiritually tired to care. And if he wants to flaunt himself in front of the asshole who enjoys teasing him, that is his own business. 

Hoseok shrugs his black top to the floor and then carefully puts on the Dior shirt. It is loose-fitting and covered in the light blue Dior logo with a tan background, which repeats in diagonals along the entire garment. 

"There are matching pants, as well, but it sounds like they just want closeups of this piece," Yoongi informs while Hoseok makes delicate work buttoning the shirt. 

He buttons it all the way to the top, and then Namjoon approaches to smooth the fabric down over his shoulders and chest, straightening the lapels. Then he holds out a hand, ushering Hoseok to go to the far end of the room and stand in front of the black wall. 

Yoongi switches on the lighting equipment and begins to shoot without instruction. Hoseok stands up straight, expression flat, twisting and leaning every so often, alternating looking at the camera and off to the side, in time with Yoongi's rapid shutter. 

Once they are finished, Yoongi thanks Hoseok for his time and Hoseok walks across the room, grabs his black silk top from where Namjoon draped it over the back of the vanity chair, and leaves the room. He unbuttons the Dior shirt, shrugs it off, drapes it delicately over the back of a sofa, and quickly puts his own shirt back on before gathering his handbag. 

"Need a ride?" Namjoon asks. 

Hoseok looks up, finding Yoongi leaning in the doorway of his studio while Namjoon approaches to slip on his shoes. 

"Sure," Hoseok says. "That would be nice."

He slides on his fuzzy slippers, waits for Namjoon to be ready, and gives Yoongi a limp flick of the wrist as a goodbye, not bothering to see whether Yoongi waves back. Once he is in the elevator and the doors slide closed, he lets out a deep sigh.

"You didn't hear this from me," Namjoon says, making Hoseok whip his gaze to where Namjoon stands to his right. "Seori, the model with the long black hair, is someone Yoongi used to sleep with. That behavior you walked in on…it's just the way they are."

"Man," Hoseok grumbles, feeling his heart sink. "The rumors really are true."

Namjoon laughs and sighs. "Unfortunately."

"I fucking hate him."

"Seems like you like him."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Unfortunately."

"I'm surprised you're not trying to shake me down for what he said to me about last night," Namjoon teases as the elevator door opens. 

"What's the use?" Hoseok asks as they walk through the lobby toward the front door. "I don't think knowing how he feels about me would make this situation any better. And I don't want to make you snitch on your friend."

"Good point," Namjoon says as he opens the front door to the building and holds it for Hoseok to walk through. 

"How many ex fuck buddies does Yoongi have at the company?" Hoseok asks as they approach Namjoon's little black sports car. 

"Sure you wanna know?" Namjoon asks. 

The car beeps unlocked, and Hoseok sighs as he says, "No."

On the drive home, Hoseok decides he would like to get drunk once again. And as soon as Namjoon drops him off, he sends Jimin a text saying as much. It is only half past six, so Hoseok lays on his couch and takes another nap before waking up and getting ready. 

Hoseok wears the black silk pajama top to the club, unbuttoned over tiny white shorts, with his hair styled messily, still wearing the makeup Namjoon applied earlier. He and Jimin take far too many shots, Hoseok finds someone cute to exchange sloppy handjobs with in a bathroom stall, and then he gets home just in time to black out on his way to bed. 

Sunday is a blur of waking up only to take care of bodily functions and return to bed. He more or less sleeps the entire day away, ignoring his friend's calls to join them for a meal, and he wakes up bright and early Monday morning in a sour mood. 

He is difficult all morning, barely looking at or speaking to Yoongi. For the first time since joining M Magazine, Yoongi complains that Hoseok is not giving enough and that his photos are not turning out as well as they should be, making Hoseok's mood worse. 

Yoongi wraps up the shoot, does not offer to show Hoseok any of the photos, and when Hoseok returns from the makeup room, thumbing through his phone to order a cab, he overhears Yoongi telling one of the female models, "I was thinking that I want you on the next cover, instead."

Anger rises, and Hoseok storms out before he can say something to Yoongi that he might regret, and as soon as he is out into the bright evening air, tears pour down his cheeks. 

"Fuck this," he grits, crossing his arms over his chest. If he is this easily replaced, all over a kiss that never happened, he is certain that he does not need to work with Yoongi anymore. 

What kind of ego must a man like him have if this is the way he behaves? God forbid he is not allowed to fuck every single person who sashays into his studio.

Although he attempts to keep from crying in the back of the cab, a few stray tears roll down his cheeks. Once he is inside his apartment with his shoes and jacket discarded in the middle of the floor, he storms over to his fridge and takes out a bottle of soju. 

On an empty stomach, Hoseok drinks the bottle and two more, crying while SpongeBob SquarePants gets into silly little antics on the television. He wants to call Yoongi and give him a piece of his mind, but he texts Jimin instead. 

Hoseok All men do is lie.

Hoseok is not at all surprised when Jimin responds immediately, and he feels thankful for his best friend.

Jimin Tell me about it, honey.

Hoseok I'm so close to calling Min Asshole and giving him a piece of my fucking mind. He is aggravating!!!

Jimin Have you been drinking?

Hoseok Maybe…

Jimin Hmm. Maybe you shouldn't call him. Although! It might be good for you to get your feelings off your chest. Maybe a well-penned text would be good.

Hoseok Not sure I could say how I feel clearly through text. I'm fucking pissed, for real.

Jimin Do you think he would fire you if you called him and cussed him out?

Hoseok sighs. At this stage, he is already getting the magazine cover taken from him, so what does he care if he loses everything else? He has already been paid for his time, and most of the Dior goodies are in his bedroom.

Hoseok I don't really care, honestly. It would be a blessing to never have to see his stupid face again. 

Jimin Fuck it. Call him.

"Fuck it," Hoseok says to himself. 

He thumbs through his phone, finds Yoongi's contact and calls him. As the phone rings, Hoseok stands up, stumbling from the way blood rushes to his head. He feels antsy, and with each dial tone the phone makes, his anticipation and anger build. 

The call goes to voicemail, infuriating Hoseok, who hangs up. He is not eager to vent to the cloud where Yoongi can have access to his anger any time he pleases. He needs to do it where the man can hear it in real-time. 

Hoseok paces around his living room, drunken rage coursing through his veins. He considers calling Yoongi back when his phone begins to ring. 

As soon as Hoseok answers the call, he opens with, "I'm quitting."

His mind is made up, there is no backing down; no way in hell he would consider allowing Yoongi to continue to torment him. 

After a pause, Yoongi asks, "Hoseok…what is this about?"

"I heard you before I left," Hoseok says, words slurring a bit. "I heard you telling that pretty bitch that you were going to give her the cover instead of me! I'm not tolerating this kind of treatment! All because you wanted to kiss me? This is fucking ridiculous!" 

"Hoseok," Yoongi says calmly, "are you at home? Can we talk in person?"

Hoseok scoffs and shakes his head. "You are insane if you think I ever want to see you again."

"I don't want to do this over the phone, Hoseok. I'm coming over. Be there in ten."

"I said no!" Hoseok shouts, stomping his foot like an angry child. "You don't get to just push people around, Yoongi! No means no!"

"Hoseok," Yoongi sighs. "I'm not giving your magazine cover away. I'm putting Sunmi on the next issue. The one after yours."

Hoseok stops in his tracks and mulls over Yoongi's words. His voice is much softer as he says, "But you used the word instead."

"Instead of another model who was slated to be next. I changed my mind."

With a huff, Hoseok stares at the wall. He has no idea what to say, but he is not eager to back down from his threat of quitting. 

"Please let me come talk to you about this."

Hoseok sighs, squeezes his eyes closed, and mutters, "Fine."

"Good," Yoongi says. "I'm already halfway there."

"You're insufferable," Hoseok mutters, surprised when Yoongi chuckles. 

"I know." There is a pause, and Yoongi says, "Be there soon."

"Fine," Hoseok responds before ending the call. 

He makes quick work of rinsing and recycling his soju bottles, making a little too much noise in his inebriated state, and he picks up stray clothing that had been left in the middle of the living room floor, chucking it unceremoniously to his bedroom floor instead. 

By the time Hoseok returns to the living room, Yoongi is calling again. 

Hoseok accepts the call and grunts, "Hmm?"

"Let me into the building," Yoongi says. 

"Wow, no please?"

"Pretty please?" Yoongi teases.

Hoseok shuffles over to the call box near his door and presses a button. Through the phone, he can hear the front door buzzing, followed by the sound of Yoongi letting himself in. 

"Second floor, apartment 222."

"I know," Yoongi responds nonchalantly.

"If you know then why did you call? You could have just buzzed from the box outside."

Yoongi hums and Hoseok closes his eyes, listening to the deep, rough sound accompanied by the creaking sounds of footsteps traveling up the old wooden stairs.

"I know," he says. "But this way, I can hear your voice."

Curse the stupid little butterflies in Hoseok's stupid little tummy. He rolls his eyes at Yoongi's confession and does his best to play it cool.

"You're literally going to hear my voice when you get to my apartment."

"Lucky me," Yoongi responds in a tone that is far too playful for Hoseok's own good. 

Realization hits that Yoongi is just outside Hoseok's door, and his anxiety spikes. His plan backfired in the worst possible way, and now he is moments away from having his handsome boss inside his apartment while he wears an oversized white t-shirt and very short baby blue pajama shorts, barefoot and on the outskirts of feeling drunk.

Three soft knocks cause Hoseok to stare at the door. His fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and he considers playing dead rather than opening it. 

"You gonna let me in?" Yoongi asks, and Hoseok hangs up the call and then twists the front door knob, pulling it open.

Yoongi wears a black bomber jacket over a brown sweater, with blue jeans and black sneakers. He smiles softly while taking in Hoseok's appearance, then cocks his head and asks, "Have you been drinking?"

Hoseok scoffs, mutters, "Nice to see you, too," and turns to get away from the door. 

"Don't be like this," Yoongi grumbles as he lets himself inside, closes the door, and toes out of his shoes. 

Hoseok attempts to hold his ground, standing with his hands on his hips while glaring at Yoongi. But Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's wrist, giving it a gentle tug, causing Hoseok to completely unravel and stumble forward. 

"You're not going to talk me out of quitting," Hoseok mutters playfully.

"I'm not here as your boss," Yoongi says as he gently takes Hoseok by the chin and pulls him close. 

"Then what are you doing?" Hoseok asks. "Why are you here?"

Yoongi's other hand wraps around Hoseok's waist, palm splaying warm across his lower back, pulling him even closer. A gasp tumbles from Hoseok's lips, arms hanging frozen to his sides as Yoongi smiles and very slowly slots their lips together. 

Hoseok does not move at first, too dumbfounded by the soft, warm press of Yoongi against him. But when he does finally open his mouth, Yoongi darts his tongue inside, making Hoseok whimper. 

He has no idea how he ends up with his back against the wall, fingers gripping tightly to the sleeves of Yoongi's jacket, but he sighs as Yoongi presses against him, slotting a leg between his and dancing his fingertips down his neck. Yoongi kisses slow and deep, groaning into Hoseok in low, pretty notes, making his fucking head spin. 

Then Yoongi breaks the kiss, takes a step back, and asks, "Soju?"

"Yeah," Hoseok mutters, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth.

"How much have you had to drink," Yoongi asks, delicately lowering Hoseok's hand from his mouth. 

He stands close enough that Hoseok feels as if the only oxygen he inhales is what Yoongi gives him from his own lungs. 

"Enough to call my boss and tell him that I quit."

"What does that translate to in number of bottles?"

Hoseok feels shy as he says, "Three."

Yoongi hums and nods, then takes a step back. "I apologize. I shouldn't kiss you while you are drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Hoseok mutters, eager to feel Yoongi's warmth against him again. 

"Look…to be honest, I guess I did come here as your boss," Yoongi says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "To ask you not to quit…and to talk you out of it, in case you felt like being stubborn."

"Ah," Hoseok mutters, frustrated. "So you opened with a kiss to soften me up and make me do what you want."

Yoongi's gaze sharpens, and he tips his head to the side. "I opened with a kiss because I wanted to kiss you, Hoseok. It's pretty clear that we've both wanted it."

"What happened to telling me that we can't do this?" Hoseok knows he is pushing Yoongi's buttons, and he does not wait for a response, just nods and shrugs, continuing, "Well you got what you wanted. I won't quit, alright? Now we can pretend this never happened and go back to having a work only relationship."

Yoongi slowly blinks. "You want to pretend this never happened?"

With a sigh, Hoseok kicks from the wall, arms wrapped tight around his middle. He feels cold, and he wants to return to the fuzzy blanket on his couch. 

"I'm not going to let you flirt with me just to get what you want," Hoseok says, avoiding eye contact with Yoongi. "You're not going to use me the way you use the others."

"I don't plan to use you," Yoongi responds defensively. 

"Good. Whatever." Hoseok grabs the blanket on the couch and wraps it over his shoulders. The tan material is soft and cool, but it quickly warms from his body heat. "Well, you win. I'm not quitting. Is that all?"

Yoongi swallows visibly, watching Hoseok. Then he shrugs and says, "Yeah. That's all."

"Alright, well, good night, Yoongi."

Yoongi sighs. "Good night, Hoseok."

Hoseok watches as Yoongi turns to put his shoes back on. He takes his time untying each one, sliding his foot in, and tying it. Then he stands up straight, reaches for the door, and hesitates. 

Part of Hoseok wishes Yoongi would ask for another kiss. Or lunge forward and claim his lips without asking. But he is glad when he does not.

"I think I'm going to take a personal day tomorrow," Yoongi says, "so consider it a day off."

"Alright," Hoseok responds. 

"Not a punishment or anything…I just have a lot of work to catch up on with this upcoming issue."

"Okay."

"Plan to come in as usual on Wednesday."

"Sounds good."

"If I call," Yoongi hesitates, eyes falling to the floor, "will you answer?"

"Yeah," Hoseok admits. Of course, he would.

"Alright. Bye, Hoseok."

Yoongi opens the door and steps out, and under his breath, Hoseok mutters, "Bye."

woof okay, i was not planning on making this chapter so fricken long but i had 8k words of utter nonsense before honoring everything in the outline, and then one thing led to another, and here we are. 😅 the length isn't even what slowed this down tho lmao i wrote a little over half of it just yesterday.

more coming soon!!! comments & reblogs will make me want to work on it faster! likes are always so so appreciated!!! thank you so much for reading!!!

tag list: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @fluffybuns69 @giriiboyy @idkjustlovingbts @itsmina29 @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki 📸

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Showstopper is copyright 2022 - 2024 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

[daegudrama]

💜Spoiler #2💜

Title: Club Nabi

Pairing: Reader/Park Jimin

Summary: Reader meets a stranger at the club and ends up in a compromising position in the bathroom.

Word Count: 1604 words

[punkshort]

'somewhere to run' masterlist

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Series Summary: You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff.

Series Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, angst, slow burn, smut (18+ MDNI), domestic violence (mostly just talked about or implied, nothing too descriptive, i will put a big warning on those chapters), implied SA (nothing descriptive), jealousy/possessiveness, alcohol use, drug use (not by Joel or reader), technical infidelity - more warnings will be stated for each chapter but these are the biggies

Status: complete

Chapters:

1: a fresh start

2: book club

3: the statement

4: the carnival

5: first date

6: the confession

7: break the chain

8: restrained

9: three lies

10: austin

11: austin pt. 2

12: the trial pt. 1

13: the trial pt. 2

Epilogue

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

Asks/BTS/Inspo/Extras:

Joel's Morning Routine

Police Station Layout

Love Languages

Joel's Likes & Dislikes

[hisunshiine]

“You had never been more sure of anything in your life.”

This is how I felt about choosing to read this story. It was truly amazing, and I loved reading through the ups and downs of the main pairing. I actually very recently finished reading Jungkook’s story and so it was nice to see that couple again in this one, but back to this story.

The one thing I want to rave about before dropping into spoilers, is the smut. Holy hell, the smut is delicious, multiple scenes that leave you satisfied. If you enjoy smut, this piece offers a variety that will leave you hot and bothered.

Spoilers Below!!

Ella did a great job with the chemistry of the pairing, and you really can see how they were drawn together at the start from their long history and then seeing how easy it was for them to transition into more.

The taboo feeling of being a secret relationship to hide it from your best friend since it’s her older brother was fun, knowing that she would find out eventually…

It was so heartbreaking to find out at the same time as the reader that something was amiss when he asks her to pretend, and then the way her best friend finds out was so different from the typical best friends brother plot, and I really enjoyed that over the cliche “everything is going good, oops we were caught, and that’s the reason we stop being together”. The plot twist in this one, which I won’t spoil, was chefs kiss, and really throws you for a loop when you see how both characters were thinking and behaving.

I also was so glad to have a rational YN, because I hate when the YN becomes overly emotional and can’t see how they also contributed to the problem/issue. I love to see character growth, but that might be the therapist in me who appreciates having characters with…well, character and depth.

Lovely read, Ella, and obviously I’ve read your other works so I knew I wouldn’t be disappointed by any means! ♡

Crazy for You | kth

Keep reading

[spideyjimin]

✨ my all time favourites BTS fics ✨

⟶ soo i've been really wanting to do this for a while already but i didn't really have the time to do it… soo here you have all the fics that I deeply loved & that i sometimes still read again 🫶🏼those fics are really amazing & thanks a lot to the writers for those masterpieces! 💞

sweet | ksj @oddinary4bts

⤷ Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military

idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

meraki | jjk @taegularities

⤷ Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut

motherfuckin' train wreck | jjk @lovieku

⤷ when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

fwb au

new guy | knj @kithtaehyung

⤷ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance, but the new guy is completing disrupting things... or is he?

smut ; university au ; enemies to lovers?

into it | pjm @xpeachesncream

⤷ helping your bestfriend out with his research project happens to come with more than what you bargained for. 

grad school au, idiots to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut

bands | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you. 

strip club/nightlife au, post grad au, fluff, angst, smut

lowkey | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

saudade | kth @chateautae

⤷ a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

100 km/hour | pjm @chateautae

⤷ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

college!au, smut, pwp

fine line | jjk @soobibabe

⤷ Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

romance

hazy hours | myg @borathae

⤷ part of the kinkoctober 2024

new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

fxck a fxckboy | myg @yoongifis

⤷ where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

smut, pwp

before we shatter | jjk @caramelkoo

⤷ dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

established relationship, idol!jungkook

warm nighs & clear lines | jjk @awrkive

⤷ there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.

SMUT, fluff

all your fault | jhs @minisugakoobies

⤷ It’s all Hobi’s fault!

smut, drabble, PWP, established relationship, non-Idol!AU

muscle memory | knj @taegularities

⤷ the weather outside might be trying to chill you to your bones, but watching Namjoon's seething hot presence work out is enough to melt every little piece of you - and he sees the longing in your eyes all too soon.

establish relationship; some fluff, mostly smut

magic stick | jjk @badbtssmut

⤷ Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

[haologram]

araneae 🕸️ k.sy

🕸️ synopsis: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues.

🕸️ genre: friends with benefits au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers because it's the only trope ever ; ta x student dynamics ; fluff, angst & smut (surprise?)

🕸️ pairing: zoology ta!kwon soonyoung x marine biology major!reader | side pairings: joshua hong x sana minatozaki ; vernon chwe x roh jisun (fromis_9) ; lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) | mentions of: reader x yuta nakamoto (nct) ; reader x lee sangyeon (the boyz); hoshi x lee luda (wsjn) ; hoshi x choi yujin (kep1er/clc)

🕸️ word count: 18.9k (WE GOT IT UNDER 20K LETS GOOOOOO!)

🕸️ rating: 18+. minors do not interact i beg.

🕸️ warnings: this definitely more of their dynamic/relationship than him being her ta… ; mentions of knife play (none involved), alcohol, pink whitney gets its own warning as does everclear, mentions of un/protected sex (dw it'll get freaky later), mentions of cum, loss of virginity talk, mentions of marijuana (stoner!hoshi be off the honeypacks!!), mentions of STD testing (GET TESTED YOU FREAKS!) [smut warnings: multiple scenes ; mostly hoshi using sex as an apology ; oral (f. receiving) ; unprotected sex (hoshi x reader only) ; face sitting ; hoshi is a hopeless romantic and loves missionary ; they fuck mostly in their respective homes (read: he eats her out in a closet)] i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

🕸️ what to listen to: good kisser - usher ; magic stick - lil' kim ; lie - bts ; spider - hoshi ; home - seventeen.

🕸️ author’s note: just an fyi, the smut is AWFUL and i'm not entirely happy with this🤩 but anyway, it’s finally here, the final installment of the seventeen ta collab!! special thanks to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of this wonderful success, and i hope to be involved in more collabs in the future (also thank you so much for your patience, i know waiting for me to be able to post was infuriating.) enjoy stoner!hoshi…loser!hoshi? loverboy!hoshi…also somewhat bitchless!hoshi.

LAST YEAR – Sunday, October 23.

You were never opposed to a nice Halloween party. Lots of thematic drinks, stupid boys dressed as Ghostface trying to explore knife kinks, and girls going all out with their glitter make-up and tinsel in their hair for the optimal fairy costume.

You loved a good Halloween party, music blasting out of the speakers that were stolen from the AV Club by the softer version of the Beta Tau Omega brothers. Dancing with strangers in sweat-soaked facades, and waking up with smeared face paint all over your neck and shoulders from whatever disguised hook-up you'd taken home that night.

Last night's rager had to have been one for the books, because you have no idea how you ended up in this absolute mess of a bedroom – owned by none other than your close friend, Kwon Soonyoung. The same Kwon Soonyoung who also happens to TA the class you've put off taking for the last two years, and are set to start taking the upcoming spring semester.

The same Kwon Soonyoung that was related to the wife of the Dean, and the same Kwon Soonyoung that showed up everywhere stoned or ready to get stoned. The very same Kwon Soonyoung that made infused pre-rolls and edibles for nearly the entire campus…for free. Even you could see that was a horrible business call, and you were a Science major.

Soonyoung who helped people sneak kittens into their dorm rooms and make homes for them under lofted beds. Soonyoung, who taught a dance class and self-defense class back to back, so he was never free until after nine at night. Soonyoung who made hanging out seem like he was trying to get into your pants because he was just naturally flirtatious (and somehow, still absolutely bitchless.)

Soonyoung who you've kissed twice since meeting him two years ago, both times at Halloween parties hosted by his stupid fraternity. Soonyoung, who has had his hand up your skirt twice before someone interrupts you by asking if he has any weed at hand. He always does, and it's always in his car or his bedroom. He always goes, and a part of you, no matter how into it you may be, knows it's for the best.

He keeps his circle small, of friends that is. You were added to the mix sometime after your first Halloween party (and first kiss together) your freshman year, when he slammed into you in the middle of the economics hallway, breaking your laptop in the process. He'd felt so bad he took you to Best Buy that same night and shelled out two grand for a new one and even invited you out to lunch the next day.

He did not remember making out at all. To be fair, neither did you until the digital photos came back and he texted you a picture of the two of you kissing against the Beta Tau Omega insignia on the wall. You were so embarrassed you avoided him for a week after, but he quickly forced you out of your dorm for a movie night. The two of you became fast friends, bonding over silly little things and enjoying each other's company – but it didn't stop the rumors from flying that you were a freshman stealing a guy from the sophomores.

You remember that he adamantly denied any and every dating rumor flung your way, and even went as far as distancing himself from you for a bit – but when you tried to pull the same move he had earlier that year, he said maybe it was best for the two of you to remain friends from a distance. You didn't speak to him for the rest of the year, choosing to spend your time with friends your age and even dating a transfer student named Yuta Nakamoto, who was also in Soonyoung's year.

When word got around, Soonyoung was pissed – but didn't attempt to rekindle your friendship. He still followed you on Instagram, and still felt a bit of anger puddle in his stomach as he liked photo after photo of the two of you together, biting his tongue at the empty smile you held by his side.

This continued well into summer, and he saw the two of you take a trip to Jeju Island together, before breaking up the following week. Soonyoung heard from your friend, Nagyung, that he was transferring back and neither of you wanted to try long-distance.

The following school year, he watched as you got recruited by sorority after sorority – eventually joining his frat's sister sorority, Alpha Sigma Delta. You hardly had to rush, the girls actively pushing you to pledge and you were far too nice to say no.

You saw him again for the first time at the Halloween party planning, when you and your fellow pledges were tasked with helping the frat pledges in hauling in liquor. You weren't very happy about it, but Soonyoung whisked you away without a word from you, telling everyone that he needed your help with a certain task.

That task?

"Can we talk?"

And you did. You talked, and talked, and talked. He even left at one point to get drinks for the two of you, returning to you fishing through his bag of pre-rolls for the ones infused with lemon balm. He smiled, telling you they were in his car, and you rolled your eyes at it.

You kissed at that party, too. It went further this time – the two of you on Seungcheol's balcony. The idea had been to go up to the roof and get crossed, but it seems a rather tipsy Soonyoung had other ideas. You didn't mind it, in fact you encouraged it – you slipped his hand up your latex dress, you let him slip your panties down your legs.

"Hey, Hoshi! Do you have any pre-rolls?!"

Just as he'd started undoing his pants.

"Fuck, I'm sorry baby."

"It's fine."

You passed out in his bedroom that time, too tired to go back to the sorority house with your sisters. You got out of clean-up, and Soonyoung left you a kimbap roll and an electrolyte drink on his nightstand, with a note asking how you got there 'haha.'

It hadn't been fine. Again, neither of you remembered this happening until digitals were printed. And it was freshman year all over again – except this time, Soonyoung stuck around. Soonyoung defended you tooth and nail, and even dropped a few of his friends that bad-mouthed you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged, "Nothing wrong with kissing your friends every once in a while."

So, here you are. Again.

The third year in a row you and your stupid friend have made out, and somehow, you're in his bed. There's no other explanation as for why your underwear is across the room, hanging off his lamp and why his head is gently laying on your chest. There's literally no other explanation.

"Soonyoung." You rasp, patting his cheek. He doesn't stir, but pouts into your bare breast. "Soonyoung." You speak louder, shaking him slightly as he peels open one of his eyes.

"Yeah?"

It takes him a moment to realize that it's you, sprinkled with glitter from his eye look last night and practically doused in his saliva.

"Oh, fuck." He just furrows his brows, rolling off your chest with a groan. He sits up at the edge of the bed, surveying the room before realizing he's got no pants on. "Son of a bitch. Did we…Yup. Yup, it's right there."

His painted fingernails point at the discarded condom atop his dresser, flung hastily in a half-asleep attempt, most likely. You sigh, letting your head fall back on your pillow with a hmph. He does the same, his fingers only reaching up slightly to close the blinds with a jerk of the liftcord.

"You think it was good?" You ask with a small smile, and he snorts. "It was with you, I doubt it would've been bad."

Silence permeates the air again, before he sees your bare bottom half also covered in glitter. You have a tattoo on your hip that you didn't have when you first met. It's a stick-and-poke kitten. "Nice tattoo."

"Thanks, I got it on Jeju Island."

"When you and Yuta went?"

"Yup."

"Cool."

He sits up, peering down at you with tired eyes. "What'd you see in that guy, anyway?"

"Hm?"

"Yuta."

"Oh. You want the truth?"

It's like being nude in front of each other isn't a big deal. It's like having slept together after years of being in limbo means nothing. It's all so normal, the way you allow him to practically eye fuck you.

"I was sad you stopped being my friend."

He blinks at you, watching the way you carefully pick at a thread loose in his comforter. You pull it out, discarding it behind you with a soft smile. "Does that answer your question?"

"You fucked another guy because I stopped being your friend?" He asks incredulously, and you shrug. "Not just, but it was a large reason."

"You lost your virginity to him." His eyes are wide, and you shrug once more, nodding your head.

"Yup."

"Did he make you cum?"

"Soonyoung-"

"Did he?"

You sigh, patting his comforter. "Not the first couple of times, no. He got better at it, though. It was decent."

Nodding, he clears his throat.

"Do you think I-"

"Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much, just the Pink Whitney Mingyu gave me."

"Mingyu does love his Pink Whitney."

You flip onto your back again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Tucking your hands behind your head, you speak again. "Do you think I went down on you?"

"There's lipstick on my tip."

"What color?"

"Uhh…wine red."

You wipe a finger across your bottom lip, the small amount of residue a bloody, Cabernet red.

"Hm. Checks out."

The air feels…comfortable.

"Wanna shower?"

"Yeah."

"Can I shower with you?"

"Yeah, Soonie."

The two of you stretch simultaneously, before rolling to the side of the bed and standing up. He grabs the discarded condom off the dresser, holding it like a used tissue and taking it to the bin. You dig through his dresser for a towel, and he fishes out something for you to wear.

"Boxers okay?"

"Hm, I prefer briefs."

"On me or on you?"

"Your underwear choices are your business."

He holds up a pair of Spiderman briefs. You bite back your laugh and nod silently, extending your hand for them.

He disappears into his bathroom, flickering lights on and turning the shower head on. "Hot?"

"Boiling."

"Got it."

The both of you get in, and you close your eyes as the water pelts your back. Soonyoung says nothing as he moves your hair off your shoulders and away from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You should've asked me." He mumbles, reaching for the shampoo in the caddy behind you. Peeling your eyes open, you look up at him with a confused stare. "Asked you for what?"

He shrugs, holding the shampoo bottle upside down over his hand and squirting some out. "I would've made you cum the first time."

You snort, shoving his chest lightly. "Yeah, well…you didn't. It's fine."

"This isn't weird to you?"

"What? Showering together?"

"After fucking, yeah."

"Could be worse."

"How?"

"I could be that girl you've been flirting with since last year, wondering when you're going to text her back."

"Who? Yujin?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not flirting with her, what made you think that?"

"Stolen glances, flirty touches, you give her pre-rolls all the time."

He rolls his eyes as he cards his fingers through your hair, his dull nails scrubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes flutter shut, and he huffs. "I give everyone pre-rolls."

"Because you're a horrible business magnate."

"No, because I'm nice."

You smile without opening your eyes, your hands reaching out to touch his chest. His body feels good under your fingertips, you realize. "Are you mad you don't remember any of it?"

"Furious." He mutters, gently tilting your head back to wash the soap out. You can't see the way he's looking at the sweet slope of your neck, just barely making out small nips of his teeth across your throat. Your necklace hangs nicely.

The rest of the shower remains silent, as he carefully washes you before himself. His attention to detail is insane, the way his fingers hold the washcloth taut so he can feel every inch of you. He has to commit this to memory.

After, you're drying your hair with a random t-shirt he gave you. He remembers you told him that towels can be too rough for your hair texture sometimes. It's only when you're brushing your teeth with a brand new toothbrush he pulled from his cabinets that he speaks.

"Let me change my bedsheets."

"Don't wanna lay in the sin of fucking your friend, do ya?"

The navy blue sheets are quickly replaced by ones with light grey ditsy floral print, and his comforter is shoved off and replaced by a few throw blankets. He watches as you change his pillowcases, only looking away when he hears his phone ping.

Msg From: Cheol

[9:32am] hosh

[9:32am] who is the girl in ur room and is she missing a pair of cat ears

"What was your costume last night?" He asks, and you snort. "I was a sexy witch."

He smiles to himself as he picks up his phone.

Msg To: Cheol

[9:33am] not missing a pair of cat ears

[9:34am] and it's y/n

Your head snaps up when you hear a pair of feet thundering up the stairs, followed by silence. You give him an odd look, only to hear excited giggles down the hall and the pitter-patter of two adult men coming towards Soonyoung's room. You cross your arms as you hear the door creak open, an expectant look on your face as Jeonghan and Seungcheol's noses appear through the crack.

"Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Jeonghan remarks sweetly, and you just roll your eyes.

"He wasn't bluffing." He whispers to Seungcheol, receiving an annoyed huff from Soonyoung. "If you're done intruding on my personal business, I'd appreciate it if you left. The pledges still need to clean up last night's mess."

Jeonghan gives you a wry look. "Can I say something and you don't get upset?"

"If it's about sex, I will punch you in that pretty face of yours." You say pointedly, fluffing the pillow in your hand before throwing it onto his bed. Jeonghan purses his lips, nodding before sliding out from under Seungcheol. He nods his head, a satisfied look on his face. "Have a good…don't fuck too loud, okay?"

Soonyoung barely misses Seungcheol's face with the charger he throws across the room, his giggle being heard in the hallway as he barrels down the stairs.

"Idiots." He huffs, running a hand through his damp hair as you flop onto the bed. "You don't mind if I stay here a bit? My head's killing me."

He lays down next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.

"You okay, Soonie?"

Turning only his head, he scans your face. Tired eyes lined with thick lashes, plump lips covered by the Aquaphor in his bathroom. Slightly unkempt brows and your shoulder tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt on your frame.

"Kitty?"

You grimace at the pet name, one he christened you with when the two of you met. He'd been dressed up as a cowboy, and dancing with a skeleton that was stolen from the comparative anatomy students (with the help of Junhui, of course.) He also had a lit joint between his fingers, one that sprinkled ash over your newly healed shoulder tattoo and made you yelp in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, kitty." He quickly put it out in a nearby ashtray, dusting your shoulder of any ash residue. "It's fine, it's fine. Just…can I get a hit?"

"Yeah?"

He sits up, leaning against his bed frame before looking down at you.

"Would it be weird if I asked to try again?"

You glance up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Try what again, exactly?"

He clears his throat, a beet red blush coating his cheeks. "You said Yuta didn't make you cum. And we don't know if I made you cum. So…can I have a redemption round?"

You've sat up at this point, a small laugh falling from your lips as you push your hair back, "You want to fuck me?"

"I can just go down on you, if, uh…if that's what you'd prefer." He stutters, mentally cursing himself. You glance at him, eyes scanning his face. "And we're still friends after this? You won't dump me?"

"I won't. I promise. Cross my heart, kitty." He holds his pinky finger out, insinuating you link yours. Sighing, you do just that. "Fine. Hop to, I want breakfast."

He moves to kiss you, but you give him yet another amused look. "What are you doing, Soonie?"

"...Kissing you?" He gives you a confused look, and you scoff out a laugh. "You said nothing about kissing, Kwon."

He gapes at you, "How am I supposed to connect our auras if we don't kiss? I can't get hard if I don't get kissed, you know. I can't properly engage with… her, if you don't let me kiss you." He sits back on his haunches, explaining each point to you. You bite back your laughter, nodding along.

"Sculptors start from scratch, Soonyoung. I am art, awaiting your expert touch." You shrug as he finishes his spiel, and he furrows his brows. "Fine."

Sinking down to his stomach in front of you, ringed fingers palming at your thighs. You sigh, sucking your teeth as he noses at your skin, placing kisses on your stomach.

You scoot back slightly, resting your back against his headboard. He looks up at you as you roll your eyes, beckoning him forward with your hand as you shimmy out of the stupid Spiderman briefs. "Make it fast."

"Won't take me that long, anyway." He mumbles, pushing his hair out of his face before placing a chaste kiss on your exposed slit. "How do you like it? Just tongue? Messy?"

"Whatever you want, though I'm not super into fingering at the same time." You shrug, your own carding through his shaggy locks and holding him in place. He smirks against your skin, "Don't need them."

His tongue swirls carefully around your clit, the motion far too practiced to be out of the ordinary for him. He leans into your soft gasp, the gentle buck of your hips enough to help him bury his face into your wet heat. "Spit on it." You whisper, and he does just as you ask.

The taste is tart and heady, spreading around his tongue and chin as he expertly sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves. His eyes are closed as he sloppily collects your arousal, your whines growing frustrated as he holds your hips down. "F-Faster, Soonie."

He rolls his eyes, annoyed at your inability to relax as he obnoxiously moans against you, the vibrations making you squirm. "You're so mean." You pout, feeling him smile into you. He shrugs, closing his eyes before returning to his ministrations.

He feels you shift, peeling open an eye to see your hand under your shirt, rolling your nipple through your fingers with your lip tucked between your teeth. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, using your ankle to pull you down to his level. Your eyes shoot open the moment his hands are on the hem of your (his) shirt, tugging it over your head. You're pliant, agreeing with whatever he wants to do when you feel him grab your face gently, "Can I kiss you?"

You can't bite back your smile, making him roll his eyes as he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You feel your stomach buzz a bit, feeling his half-hard cock through his boxers pressed against you. You cant your hips up softly, earning a hiss as he nips at your bottom lip.

"Thought you said you can't get hard without kissing, Soonie. Tsk, tsk." You mock him, before your fingers reach for the waistband of his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin.

"Take them off."

He snaps his head up to look at you, eyes wide as your hand dips below the waistband, gently wrapping around his length. He sighs at your touch, before pushing the underwear down his legs with his free hand. He reaches for the nightstand, digging out the box of condoms – empty.

"Fuck." He mutters, and you turn to see the empty box being flicked across the room. "Are you clean?" You ask with a click of your tongue, and he reaches in the same drawer and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you with a blush across his cheeks.

"A week ago." He whispers, and you shrug, tossing the results – all of which were negative – to the floor and smiling up at him. "Well, go on. You have a task to complete, Kwon."

"Are you sure?" He's talking to himself, dragging the tip of his cock through your wet folds, a soft whine from your lips as he circles your clit with his thumb. "Hurry up before I change my mind and tell everyone you can't make a girl cum."

Your threat is empty, he knows – but you see the way he rolls his eyes, easing the head of his cock into your aching hole. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, your fingernails digging into his back as he slowly bottoms out.

"Fuck." He mutters into your shoulder, before sinking his teeth into your skin and giving a slow thrust. A choked moan from your lips is his reward, as he sets a slow pace and drags his teeth across your chest. Your nails drag down his back gently as his tongue swirls around your nipple, making you whimper.

"Soonie.." Your whine is cut off by his hand across your mouth. "Don't, I'll cum." He admits against your chest, making you snort slightly. Your hand wraps around his wrist, pulling it off your mouth as you lean up to capture his lips in yours. It's sloppy but you don't care, feeling him roll his hips into yours slowly as your tongue slips into his mouth.

His whine into your mouth is nothing if not pitiful (read: hot.) Your laugh slips out as he readjusts his hold on you, folding your legs to your chest and fucking into you deeper. The new angle makes you let out a choked moan, his lips dragging along your jawline as he bullies his cock into you. 

It's almost like you can feel pride seeping through his pores as you whine into his skin, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your shoulder as he bites down softly. You're sure he's determined to ruin you for anyone else, his hand slipping between the two of you to toy with your clit.  The mix of sounds in his bedroom is obscene, but nothing is more embarrassing than the two of you jumping simultaneously when someone bangs on his door. Your hand flies over your mouth as they shout for you two to keep it down, making Soonyoung laugh, the tips of his ears turning pink as you clench around him. Your tummy starts to fill with warmth, the band threatening to snap as he peels your hand off your mouth for a searing kiss.

It's enough for the two of you to whimper, your fingers moving to curl into his hair, feeling the white-hot heat of your orgasm coursing through your body. He groans into your lips, and you can feel him fighting himself as he pulls out, his cum painting the stupid kitty tattoo on your hip.

The two of you are silent as you regain your composure, the room filled with soft pants as you brush your hair off your face. He clears his throat, and you almost instinctively roll your eyes as his question breaks the tension.

"On a scale of one to ten–" "I am not rating your stroke game, this is not RateMyDick.com."

His face buries into your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he scoffs out a laugh. Your fingernails trail lightly along his neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulders before he pushes off you.

"Pancakes?" He tilts his head, making you snort. "Are you paying?" "Fuck no, we can make Cheol buy." He scoffs, and you laugh fully this time. "Do you think Cheol feels like buying me the greasiest patty melt he can find?" "Whatever you want, kitty." He kisses the tip of your nose, making you scrunch it while pushing his head away. "That tickles, stop. Now get off me, I feel the need to spend Cheol's trustfund on food that will knock me out." He just smiles as he lifts himself off you, sliding off the bed in the direction of his bathroom. You can't help but feel a bit of anxiety pool in your lower belly, hearing the faucet running slowly before he reappears. You quickly smile, "You okay?" "Are you?" He echoes, his hand reaches for your thigh as he wipes you down gently with a damp washcloth. "Yeah, m'fine." He doesn't look convinced, giving you a raise of his brows as he tosses the washcloth to the side, offering his hand to help you sit up. When you do, he grabs the shirt you'd been wearing and carefully pulls it over your head – and if he feels the willful stare of your eyes on him, he says nothing about it.

"Are you having regrets?" He murmurs, reaching for the underwear he let you borrow. You sigh inwardly, shaking your head. "No. Just…it's silly."

"It's not silly, whatever it is you're feeling. We're friends, kitty. You can tell me." He shrugs, helping you up off the bed and leading you to the bathroom. "You're not gonna watch me pee, are you?" You tease, and he snorts.

"Do you want me to?" "Get out." He does. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the briefs on the sink. You sigh quietly, willing the negative thoughts away. You don't regret it, no – but it feels like your slight game of cat-and-mouse has ended. He's caught you, sunk his teeth into you and now you're dead.

You reach for the briefs, pulling them over your ankles and up to your knees while you sit. You hear him rustling around, before hearing the door to his room open and shut. A wave of sadness flows over you, and you wonder if he really meant it. That he wouldn't leave this time – he hadn't last year, after he took your underwear off in Seungcheol's room (and stuffed the pair of pink panties in his pocket – something you never heard the end of when Jeonghan found out they were yours.) Sighing once more, you finish your business, tossing the toilet paper in the can and amp yourself up as you wash your hands. "No big deal, Y/N. Friends fuck all the time. Right?" You hear the door to his room open again, and you turn the water off, shaking the excess water off your hands as you open the bathroom door. He glances up at you, holding a tray with a pitcher of water and electrolyte packets.

"You like watermelon, right? It's the only flavor we have left."  He says, and you nod quietly. "Yeah, that's fine."  

Flopping back onto his bed, you cover your bottom half with one of the throw blankets as he portions out the electrolytes. You reach over and open his nightstand drawer, fishing through for his Advil.

"Bottoms up." He hands you your glass, and you pop open the cap. "Yum, ibuprofen electrolyte cocktail." You mutter, shoving two in his hand before popping your own in your mouth.

The two of you clink glasses before chugging, mirroring each other's grimaces as you finish the liquid. He scrunches his nose, sliding the glass on the nightstand before laying back and moving like a worm to slide in next to you.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, grabbing his phone from in between the blankets and opening the Doordash app. You don't respond, opting to pull the blanket a little higher as you rest your head on his shoulder. He scrolls through mindlessly, before finding your favorite breakfast spot. The two of you found it during the summer, when neither of you went home and decided to take summer classes. You wound up taking Seungcheol's room while he went home with his girlfriend.

You don't like the wave of sadness you feel suddenly.

He's your friend. One could even say he's one of your best friends. What if this was a mistake?

You feel tears prick at your eyes.

"Can you hold me?" You murmur, and he doesn't even stop to think as he shuts his phone off and pulls you into him, his hand curling into the nape of your neck. His fingernails are lightly scratching at your scalp as he wraps himself around you, allowing you to snuggle into his chest. "I'm scared, Hosh."

You can't hold back the sniffle at that, but you can feel him tuck you further into his embrace. "I won't leave. I promise, I promise you I won't leave." He whispers, and you can hear the waver in his voice. He tries to mask it, pressing soft kisses to your hairline.

"What if this ruins our friendship?" You ask thickly, and you can feel him shake his head above you. "It won't. I won't let it. We can't let it."

He pulls back, his thumb coming to wipe under your eyes carefully. "I don't think I ever told you what I did when we stopped talking that year." "No," You laugh softly, reaching up to wipe his own face. "You didn't." "I slept with like six people that year." He scrunches his nose, before his eyes go wide. "No, five and a half."

"Half?" You question, and he nods. "Does it count? Like, if she went down on me but then her roommate walked in on us and she was too embarrassed to keep going?" "I think so?" "Okay, so six." "You're a slut." "Sue me, I was filling a void." He scoffs, and you just shake your head at him. "You could've just talked to me."

If he’s aware of your hypocrisy, he says nothing. "I am a flawed man, kitty. I have too much pride to admit my mistakes." He sighs, pushing your hair out of your face. "Yet here we are." You say pointedly, making him roll his eyes.

"Anyway, I don't regret this…us." He gestures between the two of you, before clearing his throat. "But, we don't have to speak about it, like, ever again if you do. It'll be like it never happened." Sighing, you roll onto your back, still pressed tightly against his torso. "That never works. I mean, Cheol and Hannie know, now, too." You scrunch your nose a bit at the idea of your friends' relentless teasing awaiting, but he shrugs. 

"Cheol owes me for that time I helped him replace his bed frame after Sowon broke it. I still can't believe they're dating, but it makes their chaos like, ten times worse." He groans, and you snicker. "Are we sure it wasn't Seungcheol who broke it? Last I heard, he's a freak." "He probably did, he had a bit of bruising around his wrists and there were cuffs attached to the bedposts." He says pointedly, before the two of you glance at each other quickly.

"No." He tongues his cheek to stop himself from smiling. "I didn't say anything." "You're thinking about it, Soonyoung. Stop it." "You literally let me cum on you."

You grimace up at him, and he snorts. “Sorry.”

“Just order the food, my stomach is about to start eating itself.” You roll your eyes, smacking him when you both feel his phone buzz. He grabs it, and you once more feel your stomach sink.

Msg From: choi yujin [10:49am] hey hoshi…r u busy? can i come over?

“Yikes.” He mutters, and you push the covers off. “I can go—”

“Shut up. Lay down.” He yanks your arm, making you fall back onto the pillows as he messages her back with one hand.

Msg From: choi yujin [10:50am] i am yeah [10:51am] let’s set a date to talk

“What if she wants to dump you?” You ponder aloud, watching as he reopens the Doordash app and adds your food to the cart. He shrugs, selecting an order of french toast. “Then she dumps me. I should care, right?” 

You just snort, making him smile inwardly as he wraps his arm around you. 

The two of you let your eyes eat, ordering little things and ignoring messages from Yujin. You feel bad, really, because Yujin is a sweet girl and your friend is a bit of an airhead at times.

“I’ll go get it when it’s here.” He yawns, stretching slightly and rebounding to wrap himself around you. “Or, we can bribe Mingyu with that order of eggs benedict we did not need to order.”

“Ha, true.” He nods, shooting a text to the man before tossing his phone behind him. “And kitty?”

“Yes, Soonie?”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

You glance down at him, noting the way his eyes are slightly heavy. You hold in your sigh — carding your fingers through blond locks. “Any time, Soonie.”

PRESENT DAY — November 4th.

Unfortunately (for your achey, breaky heart) — Soonyoung took ‘any time’ literally.

You’d gone home later that afternoon, reluctantly prying yourself from Soonyoung’s arms and wiping a bit of syrup from his french toast off your lip. Not at all put there from him kissing you.

No way.

The two of you had fallen into a bit of a lockstep — he’d decided to add another semester to his schedule, admitting he felt overwhelmed by his classes. You were just happy you’d have your friend around for a bit longer, and most of the other frat brothers felt the same.

However, with great sacrifice comes great responsibility — Soonyoung had a lot of free time, and you were only taking four classes a semester as it was. He would come over to your room at the sorority house, bring you dinner and help you study, and somehow the two of you would end up on your bed with his tongue between your legs. Or with his dick in your throat. Or, a fancier third option — turning the stereo on and fucking like rabbits.

Your housemates learned to hate Novacane by Frank Ocean.

But without fail, this happened at least once a week. Neither of you mentioned it after, with him leaving the next morning with a chaste kiss to your lips and a murmured have a good day, kitty. 

Your sorority sisters grew curious, and you admitted to them that the two of you were just fucking around. When word of this got around — because humans love to gossip — Soonyoung came over and the two of you sat down to discuss the dynamics of your…situationship.

And nothing changed.

The two of you admitted to each other that it was odd to behave like this. You were the first to confess that it helped you get your mind off things when you were stressed, to which he agreed. It ended with the two of you agreeing to resort to these meetups once or twice a week — and with him fucking his dick into you so slowly, you cried.

Granted, these meetups did not stop over the summer. Neither of you went home, once more opting to stay on campus for summer courses. This time, though — most of the brothers had gone home, and the two of you could not keep your hands off each other. You reminded yourself to still have to apologize to Chan for fucking in his room.

Not that Soonyoung didn’t already take the brunt of Chan’s wrath, but it was beyond you now.

This being said, your tradition of fucking around on Halloween had been upheld this year — but to the point where when you arrived, Mingyu did not offer you his bottle of Pink Whitney because Soonyoung had gotten you your own. You’d laughed, and Mingyu pouted as the two of you drank together.

Soonyoung found you a little after midnight, and you were barely tipsy when he whispered in your ear, asking if you wanted to go up to the roof. You nodded, putting your cowgirl hat on a rather mopey Mingyu — linking your pinkies with Soonyoung’s as he pulled you upstairs.

The two of you hadn’t seen each other much that week, because you had midterms. He offered you a hit of his joint before grabbing your jaw gently and using it as leverage to kiss you.

That night felt different — he took a bit longer to take your clothes off, he kissed you all over. Not that he didn’t normally do that, but it seemed as though he was trying to absorb you fully. You blamed it on the weed, but let him worship you on the roof of his frat house. 

You’d been on top for most of it — he doesn’t usually prefer it that way, Soonyoung was a missionary man through and through. You had noticed his glassy eyes as he ran his hands all over your body, and you asked him twice if he was okay. He nodded, kissing you both times before flipping you onto your back. He’d carried you back down to his room after you finished, locking his door behind him and running a shower for the two of you.

It gave you déjà vu.

That was a week ago. You hadn’t seen Soonyoung since, but a part of you didn’t mind the space. You’d felt a bit more that night, but you just blamed it on the Pink Whitney.

“Hey, pretty.” You look up, seeing Minghao walking towards you with a bag in his hand. The two of you had this study session in the back corner of the library every few days, but neither of you cared to admit that it was just an excuse to gossip together and watch America’s Next Top Model.

“Hey, Hao. How’re you?” You ask coolly, before making a show of opening your laptop and opening Hulu, pressing on ANTM and lowering the volume to mute. He snorts, opening the bag and sliding your portion on the table. “I’m good, pretty. However, I do have some intel from a little bird.”

He looks at you pointedly, and you scoff as you open your food. Inhaling deeply, you sigh before stabbing your fork into the pasta. You shrug, “Okay. What’s your intel?”

“That you and Hoshi fucked on the roof, and there’s photos of you making out.” He bites into a breadstick, and you roll your eyes. “There have been photos of us making out every year. This is nothing new.”

“I’m just saying. None of the photos in years past have had his hands under your shirt so shamelessly.” He shrugs, and you furrow your brow. “Hands under my shirt??”

You had worn a latex halter top. You’d never taken it off, and he’d only moved it aside when the two of you were on the roof to get a full view. “Yeah, you were a sexy cop, right? It’s all over the stupid underground site.”

You glance at him, wiping cream sauce off your lip. “I was a cowgirl, Minghao. I even put my hat on Mingyu.”

His eyes are wide as he chews, before his brows furrow and he gestures at the laptop.

You pause the muted show, shoving your fork into your plate before typing in the website. BetaTOU.com had been a domain purchased by the frat president from twelve years ago so they could share photos without being bitched at by the university. It was also a forum for complaints and suggestions. Everything was neatly kept and tagged with dates to stay organized, and if you wanted any photos taken down they were removed within the hour.

You scroll carefully, eyeing every photo of the frat brothers posted from last week. Mingyu wearing your hat is amongst the first few, and a back shot of you and Soonyoung with your pinkies linked walking up the stairs is right after it. You know it’s you, you can see the bracelet he gave you for your birthday dangling on your wrist.

You keep scrolling — Minghao doing a keg stand, Chan and Seokmin playing beer pong (and Chan getting Iced by Jihoon), and Vernon making out with two girls at once. Slut.

You begin to nibble on your fingernails as you scroll further, finally landing on a photo of Soonyoung and Yujin making out in front of one of the bathrooms at the Beta Tau house. You scoff out a laugh, her hat on his head and his hands, yup, under her shirt.

“Sexy cop, meet a big, fat liar.” You scowl, closing the laptop and jerking back in your chair, pulling your knees up to balance your takeout plate on. Minghao peers at you, watching as you angrily shovel pasta into your mouth. “Slow down, pretty. You’ll choke and I don’t know first aid.”

Shaking your head, “We literally fucked that night, Hao. That had to have happened before, because I literally showered and spent the night in his room.” 

If he notes the hurt in your voice, he doesn’t mention it. He sighs instead, shaking his head before his hand finds your limp one in your lap. “Are you guys exclusive?”

“No.” You answer quickly, trying to shrug it off as he squeezes your hand lightly. “Don’t do that, obviously you have feelings for him, Y/N.”

“I do not.” You refute. “And even if I did, there are too many negative factors to being in a relationship with him.”

“Like what?” Minghao rolls his eyes, making you scoff.

“Like the fact that he hasn’t spoken to me all week? Like the fact that he’s a whore?” You say all of this like it’s common knowledge, and Minghao gives you an amused look.

“Not as much as Vernon.”

“Not relevant, Hao.”

Minghao shrugs, sitting back as he tears another piece of his breadstick off. You pout, letting go of his hand the moment you hear your phone buzz on the table. Reaching for it, you hand it to Minghao without a second glance.

“It’s Hoshi.”

“Read it and let me know if I should answer.”

Msg From: Soonyoung 🐯🩷

[4:32pm] kitty [4:34pm] please don’t be upset [4:35pm] can we talk? i can swing by the house tonight?

You roll your eyes, hating the way your nose burns as tears gather in your eyes.

Okay. You weren’t dumb.

You knew you’d catch feelings eventually. It was inevitable — Soonyoung was a good fuck, of course, but…something was different. He was sweet, he was doting and attentive. He soon learned your favorite flavor of electrolytes were never ones the frat kept in stock because Mingyu finished them all, so he bought you your own stash for his bedroom. He invited you to the dance class he taught, urging you to go and watch him dance to Fergalicious with the older women who lived in your college town.

Grimacing at your inner monologue, you reach for your phone from Minghao.

Msg To: Soonyoung 🐯🩷 [4:38pm] why would i be upset [4:39pm] and no, i’ve got things i need to do tonight. sorry.

“The guy is definitely gonna agonize over this tonight.” Minghao mentions, making a smoking motion with his fingers. It makes you crack a smile, and you turn your phone on silent before opening the laptop again, switching back to your show and pressing play.

The two of you avoid your Advanced Calculus work on the table, watching as students file in and out of the library — most of them eyeing your plates of takeout before finding a seat.

You can’t help but think about the photo of Soonyoung and Yujin. You’d never had anything against Yujin, and you never would — it made no sense to resent her when Soonyoung is the one who owed you loyalty.

Not that he actually did, anyway — the two of you were not exclusive. You’d been the one to bring it up. He simply set that in place, sending you his STD panel results every few weeks. 

You didn’t have to do the same. You didn’t fuck anyone but him.

Minghao walks you home, the two of you filling the air with chatter of missing Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua. The three had graduated, but had come to the Beta Tau Halloween party to visit. All in tow with their girlfriends, of which Joshua’s was still a student at the University and a part of your sorority — Sana Minatozaki.  

“Can we do Thai next week? I know your birthday is on Thursday, and I’m sure you don’t wanna spend it with me.” You snort as you reach the front of the house, seeing Momo and Yerin sitting on the steps with ice cream in their hands. They wave at Minghao, who waves back.

“Nonsense, pretty. It’s a Thursday and I’m tired of parties.” He yawns, stretching slightly. You snicker, giving him a one-armed hug as you bid your goodbye. He doesn’t leave as you trek up the stairs, greeting your sorority sisters as you yank open the front door.

Sighing, you let a bit of emotion take over as a few tears trickle down your face. You jog up the stairs, slipping your sweater off and hanging it on the coat rack by the handrail on the third floor. You wipe at your face, annoyed at the sinking feeling of your heart as you toe your shoes off, shoving them on the shelf by the coat rack.

“Shower. That’s what I need.” You murmur, heading down the hallway to your room. Your door is slightly ajar, but you figure one of your sisters must’ve gone in to borrow something. You get closer, flinging the door open when you reach it and seeing Soonyoung sitting at the foot of your bed with a bag in his hands.

You blink at him, noting the redness in his ears as he takes you in. Neither of you speak, and he watches as you slide your bag into your desk chair, unpacking your belongings onto your desk where they usually go. He stares as you take a sip from your water bottle, before leaning against your desk, arms crossed.

“I can explain.” He starts, and you tongue your cheek. “Explain what? Maybe why you’re in my bedroom? I did say I was busy, Soonyoung.”

“Don’t do that, don’t be mad.” He whines at the sound of his name, and you furrow your brows. “I’m not mad, dude. What are you on?”

“It was a mistake, okay? I was looking for you and she—” You cut him off with a hand in the air, the words you know he hates to hear slipping from your lips.

“We’re not exclusive, Soonyoung. You can kiss whoever you want, you can fuck whoever you want. As long as you keep getting tested and it comes back clean, I don’t care.” You lie through your teeth, and he stands, putting the bag on your desk. You see his hands clench slightly around nothing as they reach his sides.

“I’m still sorry.” He murmurs, and you roll your eyes. Shaking your head, you begin to slip your shirt over your head. “I’m gonna shower. Feel free to stay, or go. I don’t care.”

“Okay.” He flops back on your bed, and you walk into your bathroom silently. Turning the water on, you strip and step inside, basking in the heat of the steam.

What were the two of you really doing? He was going to be the teacher’s assistant in your Zoology class next semester. You couldn’t really risk people thinking you were fucking him for your grades — it would put both of you at risk.

Professor Kwon was also a notoriously absent teacher, with her TAs from the past saying she was rarely in class. However, complaints resulted in simply receiving a large sum of money from her at the end of the year — and you found out through Soonyoung that Professor Kwon was married to the Dean.

And how does Soonyoung know that?

Professor Kwon is his aunt. She trusted that Soonyoung would be able to take over the class because he wasn’t particularly squeamish, and she knew all about his bad habit of sneaking stray kittens into dorm rooms. And his bad habit of being high as fuck — not that she was any better, though her vice was vacations, not weed.

He was smart, Soonyoung. You knew he was — his transcript was full of advanced math and science classes, and you saw one B in the extensive packet. Yes, a packet. 

He took Zoology last year, even if it wasn’t part of his major. When you think of it, you don’t even really know what his major is — he just does whatever for the sake of it. It’s like he’s only really here to be entertained — and you don’t blame him.

Your passion for animals is also something that brought you and Soonyoung together. While he cared about the ones in the more vegetative biodomes — savannahs, tropical rainforests…the like. You, on the other hand, were one with the water — you loved fish, cephalopods, crustaceans. You had a small angelfish tattoo on your ankle, one Soonyoung constantly kissed if you were in missionary.

The two of you bonded over documentaries, even if the night ended with the two of you fooling around. You remember the night you watched Aliens of The Deep — you tied him to your radiator because he wouldn’t stop grinding his dick against your ass. You fucked him after, sure, but James Cameron deserved to have his documentary cherished.

Wringing your hair out of excess water, you step out of the shower, grabbing your towel off the rack and wrapping it around yourself. Opening the door, you see Soonyoung lying on your bed with his eyes closed, earphones plugged into his phone. As you lean closer, you hear a song reminiscent of Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry.

Snorting, you nudge his leg with your foot, making him peel his eyes open. He pulls out one of the earphones, “Yes?”

“What are you doing? Why are you listening to Fergie?” You ask, moving past him to rummage your dresser for underwear. He sighs, “Because I feel bad.”

“Soonyoung, you kissed Yujin. It’s not the end of the world.” You say pointedly, feeling him get up and crowd your space. You feel his lips press to your damp shoulder, “You say that, but I feel like I betrayed you or something.”

Scoffing, you turn, tucking the corner of your towel under your armpit. “You fuck plenty of other girls. Why is kissing Yujin any different?”

“I only kiss you.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “I’m supposed to believe you?”

“Yes. I only kiss you when we fuck. I only kiss you in general. I don’t kiss the other girls, not that there have been many since this started.” He states matter-of-factly, and you struggle not to roll your eyes again. “You send me your STD results every few weeks, Soonyoung. That means there are other girls.”

“There hasn’t been for a few months. I just get tested regularly because it’s a habit. And they give me free condoms and lube so I save money.” He shrugs, making you scoff out a laugh.

“Soonyoung—”

“Stop, I don’t like it when you call me that.”

You eye him, “That’s your name.” 

He shakes his head, “Not to you, it’s not. You only call me that when you’re mad.” His fingers push your hair off your face, and it takes all your willpower not to lean into his touch. He notices your internal struggle, curling his fingers around the shell of your ear, playing with your piercings carefully.

“I don’t want you to see other people.” He blurts, making your eyes go wide before you furrow your brows. Crossing your arms across your chest, you frown. “You see other people.”

“Then punish me for it. I’ll even let you tie me to the radiator again.” He’s flushing beet red, his hand now toying with a loose thread on your towel. It’s oddly reminiscent of your first (or…second) time together. “I’ll even leave you alone for a few weeks, if you want. I won’t fuck anyone else, either.”

You feel a bit taken aback at his offers, knowing that Soonyoung wouldn’t bring any of it up if he didn’t truly feel as though he’d wronged you. “Soonyoung, I really mean it. I’m not upset.”

You’re lying, but you also know his form of apologizing is just way too sincere. You can’t, in good faith, let him simmer in the guilt any longer. Probably why he didn’t speak to you for a week.

He doesn’t reply, opting to glance at the corner of your towel. He reaches for it, his eyes meeting yours as if asking for permission. You blink in response, untucking the towel on your own accord. He hesitates as his knuckles brush the skin of your hips, making you shiver. The towel drops as he leans in to kiss you, and you notice you don’t mind the slightly chapped lips.

He kisses you deeply, like he wants you to know his innermost feelings. His arm circles around your waist, pulling you flush to him as his other hand holds your face gingerly. “I’m sorry, kitty.” He murmurs against your lips, not bothering to allow you to respond as he reconnects your lips, walking backwards towards your bed.

His knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits, pulling you onto his lap. The soft material of his sweatpants tented up around his cock, brushing against your center as you lean the two of you back, his back hitting your comforter. He maneuvers the two of you fully onto the bed, his head resting against your pillows as you lick into his mouth. His fingers circle your upper thighs, urging you to lift yourself up.

“What’s wrong?” You scan his eyes, feeling him push you further, your hands now on either side of his head. “I wanna show you how sorry I am. Sit on my face, suffocate me.”

You hadn’t done this yet. He’d asked in sessions past, but you’d been a bit hesitant. “What about you, though? I don’t—”

“Don’t worry about me.” He kisses you softly again, fingers tapping the backs of your thighs to urge you higher. “Are you sure?”

“If I die, I die happy.” He shrugs, and you sigh as you inch up, before grabbing your headboard for moral support. You sink down slowly, feeling his nose bump your clit slightly. You hover for a moment, hearing him sigh before pulling you down the rest of the way.

His tongue is flat against your pussy, making you shiver and clench around nothing. He licks at you with precision, gathering your arousal before wrapping his lips around your clit with a soft suck. You bite back a whine, your hips grinding against his face involuntarily. He moans against you, digging his dull nails into your hips.

You continue rocking against him, soft moans from your lips as he eagerly takes whatever you give him. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging gently as you feel the heat start to pool in your belly. His hand wanders up, skilled fingers rolling your nipple between them at the same pace of your clit being swirled by his tongue.

“Soonie—” You whimper, canting your hips a little faster as he runs his hands all over your body, groaning against your pussy. Your thighs clench around his head as you cum, feeling slightly overstimulated as his tongue fucks into you slowly. You try to get up, but your shaky legs betray you as Soonyoung pulls you back down, the slurping sound from his mouth obscene as you twitch in his hold. “S’too much…”

Pushing his head back, you pry yourself out of his hold, shakily settling yourself next to him. You take a glance at him, his eyes closed as the back of his hand wipes his mouth. “Am I forgiven?”

“You were never in trouble, Soonie.” You roll your eyes, flopping your head against his shoulder. He scoffs, “You’re my best friend. I’m pretty sure I can tell when you’re upset with me.”

Hearing you huff, he knows he’s right. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t need to finish?” You murmur, eyeing the strain of his cock against his sweatpants.

He shakes his head, “I don’t deserve it right now. I hurt you, and that was shitty of me.”

You sigh. “So what does this mean?”

“It means I want to be exclusive. You’re the only girl I hang out with, anyway.” He shrugs, a pained look on his face as adjusts himself in his pants. You feel some guilt settle in your stomach at this, and you shake your head. “I don’t think we should keep doing this, actually.”

He glances down at you, before you sit up and slide off your bed. You move back to your dresser, digging out random clothes and pulling them on as he stares.

“What?”

“I want to focus on school.” You wince as the sentence slips past your lips. It wasn’t a lie, you did want to — but it was also because he’d be your TA next semester. Better to cut the cord now than continue to put yourselves at risk of being found out.

“So you’re…what? Are we still friends?”

You look over at him, an obviously hurt expression on his face as he brings his knees to his chest. “Of course we’re still friends, Soonie.”

He nods, tonguing his cheek as he stands up. “Sure thing. I’m sorry if my expectations made you uncomfortable.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he grabs his shoes at the door, and you blink at him.

“You’re not…You’re leaving?” You gape, and he gives you a quizzical look. “What, did you want to cuddle?”

It doesn’t have any malice behind it. His tone is level, it’s friendly. But you can’t help and feel a bit small at his words. He gives you a curt nod. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

And he closes the door behind him. You scoff out a breath, feeling a tear spill down your cheek as you run your hands through your hair. It’s still damp at the roots, and you just shake your head to yourself as you remember the bag he set on your desk.

You click your tongue at it, before ripping it open. It’s a Jellycat octopus in blue and a handmade card. It has doodles of fish all over it in colored pencil, and an angelfish holding a badly drawn tiger in the corner. You open it to see his handwriting messily scrawled across the cardstock.

Hi, Kitty.

I assume by this point you’ve seen the photos on BTOU, and I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you all week. I saw them on Wednesday morning right when I was going to leave to ask if you wanted to get breakfast with me, so I made the dumbass decision to just ghost entirely. It was an asshole move and I’m sorry.

I did want to talk to you, though. And it’s totally fine if you don’t agree, I just figured I’d give it a shot?

The two of us are…relatively close. I mean, I can’t think of anyone I trust more than you…you’ve seen me in various stages of my life. Uhm, I’m not ready for a relationship but I’m also unsure if we’re on the same page about that, so I wanted to ask if we could, for the rest of the year, make this an exclusive…situation? I don’t see other people and neither do you?

I guess that’s like dating. We can talk about it more in person, if you want. Maybe we can come to a consensus and I don’t know. But you get me, right? You always get me.

Anyway. I’m sorry. And I hope you’ll accept this card and the little octopus guy as a token of my sincere appreciation for you. I named him Inky Minaj, but feel free to change it.

Yours (hopefully),

Hoshi ♡🐯

You don’t realize you’re crying until you see a tear drop right onto his doodle of a tiger next to his name. The octopus stares back at you, and you sniffle as you put it on your bed.

This is for the best. It has to be. Kwon Soonyoung cannot like you and you cannot like him.

January 13th.

“Hello, everyone! I am Professor Kwon, and this is Zoology!”

The dreaded class was finally here.

You and Soonyoung were a bit awkward at first — sure, the initial sting of rejection made him distance himself a bit, but he got over it pretty quickly. He came over to the house often, bringing takeout with him and new documentaries he’d rented from the university’s library. He always stayed at least a foot away from you — in early December, he’d accidentally kissed you in greeting, leading the rest of the hangout to be full of unresolved tension.

So much so that he left early.

Aside from that incident, it was like the two of you had never seen each other naked. You both scrunched your noses at your friends’ jabs, leaving them with confused looks. Minghao was the one to tell the frat brothers the news that the two of you were no longer sleeping together.

Minghao also knew that you had a raging heart boner for Soonyoung. He was all you’d talked about in the passing weeks — Minghao even subjected his family to your babble about Soonyoung when he answered your FaceTime calls over winter break. He sighed as you droned on about the man, but allowed it anyway.

“This is my Teacher’s Assistant, Kwon Soonyoung. You will be seeing more of him than of me this year, I have a very crammed schedule. This being said, Soonyoung will go through the syllabus with you and the first lesson of the semester. I will be here on Wednesday, so don’t fret! You still get to have one-on-one time with me.” Professor Kwon smiles, and you glance at Soonyoung, who is already looking at you. You raise your brows, and he shrugs, making a smoking motion.

He’s stoned.

Professor Kwon bids her goodbyes, leaving a very stoned Soonyoung to take over her class. A few girls in the front (that you don’t recognize) are giggling as he passes out the paper syllabus.

“Kitty.” He murmurs with a soft smirk as he slides your paper on your desk, and you scowl. “Shut up.”

He just smiles as he starts walking around and talking about the syllabus — how you can only miss six classes this semester but if you’re nice, he’ll count you present anyway. How his favorite lesson is the one about the three-spined stickleback fish, and how it’s refreshed at least three or four times throughout the course. He talks about how he fully believes that the Bubonic Plague was an experiment made by the government to kill innocent rodents and that his office hours are generally whenever, just shoot me an email.

The class wraps up rather quickly, with Soonyoung assigning reading based on the ethology of geese. You snort at it, hiking your bag over your shoulder as everyone starts to file out. He grabs your elbow as you walk past him, earning a few looks from the girls who had been giggling earlier — and drapes his arm over your shoulders as the two of you saunter out together.

“What the fuck was that for?” You ask as he walks the both of you towards your place, and he shrugs. “They were staring a little hard.”

“What, so I’m your saving grace?” You roll your eyes, but don’t push him away as he tucks you further into his chest. Soonyoung had always been touchy, so you didn’t care. “Of course. I don’t want to deal with a bunch of sophomores hitting on me.”

“Oh, because Kwon Soonyoung, frat boy and resident weed dealer is sooo desirable.” You mock, and he snorts. “I mean, you fucked me for a year, I would hope I’m desirable.”

You elbow him right in the ribs, making him let out a pained noise as he smacks your arm lightly. “What’d you do that for?! I’m not wrong!”

“Whatever! Anyway, are you going to the stoplight party this weekend? We’re hosting.” You ask, fishing your phone out of your pocket to send him the invite. “Oh, I’m not sure. I'm gonna take Seungkwan out for dinner on Thursday, and I’m probably hanging out with Luda on Saturday.”

He stretches, and you feel your stomach sink.

Lee Luda was what the campus referred to as a frat sweetheart. Her family had a huge legacy of going to SNU, and her father actually owned the property where the Alpha Psi Delta fraternity house was built. She was very close with the entire fraternity and had been involved in their charity and party planning since she was a freshman, her ex-boyfriend being a junior and her brother a senior when she was elected.

She was very sweet, very smart and extremely pretty. You'd gotten to know her a bit last year, she was a Biology major and you shared a lot of the same courses.

“Oh. They’re throwing a birthday party for Juyeon, right?” You nod as he does the same, before looping your arms together. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch and you can tell me how good I did on my first day as your TA.”

“What is it with you and ratings?”

He just laughs, pulling you closer again. You pretend your cheeks don’t burn at the proximity and the soft scent of his cologne.

January 18th.

It seemed the first week back from holidays really did a number on the student body — nearly everyone who came to the stoplight party hosted by your sorority was white-girl wasted. Seungkwan profusely cried over the little cupcake you presented him, apologizing for his birthday being on a Thursday. He took it and you later found him with strawberry frosting all over his chin and mouth.

It was well past two in the morning, and the party was still going pretty strong. You, Momo and Yerin were running around topping off drinks and manning stations, and you had sent Chan and Minghao to get more liquor from the store down the road. They were the only sober ones amongst the Beta Tau brothers, and Mingyu was dancing on the coffee table with Wonwoo and Jun — all of them wasted off Pink Whitney.

That damn Pink Whitney.

You roll your eyes as you clean up, humming along to Kid Cudi when you sense a disturbance in the force.

“Hey!” You hear someone shout over the music, and you turn to see Soonyoung, Luda and Juyeon next to you. Soonyoung and Luda have grabbed yellow cups, and Juyeon has a red one. You see a few more of the Delta brothers stroll in behind them, helping themselves to the alcohol on your table.

“Hey! What’re you guys doing here? I thought you were celebrating Juyeon!” You shout back, and Luda shrugs. “Yeah, well Sangyeon and Hyunjae said you guys were having a stoplight! You don’t mind, right? Hyunjae said you were cool!”

You shake your head, gesturing to the bottles. “Not at all! Help yourselves, but Minghao and Chan should be back soon with more Malibu and Svedka.”

Luda gives you a cheery smile and grabs for the Everclear, and you bid the men behind her a quick goodbye as you continue into the kitchen to clean up. You grimace at the sight of vomit in the corner by your pantry, and you open your fridge to get out some baking soda when you see Soonyoung’s feet in front of you.

You glance up at him, seeing a quizzical look as you grab the baking soda. “What’s up, Hosh?” You ask, before squatting by the vomit to sprinkle the baking soda on it.

“You’re wearing red!” He says, gesturing to your red dress. You look down at the dress you were wearing — you’d bought it last year, and wore it to his birthday dinner. He’d stared at you the entire evening before dragging you out to his car and fucking you in the parking lot.

Safe to say that neither of you went back into the restaurant.

“Oh, this? I just don’t feel like flirting tonight.” You shrug, and he leans against the counter when you speak again. “You have a yellow cup! Why?”

“Seeing someone here and there.” He shrugs, and you nod, choosing to swallow your questions. When the fuck did he even find the time?

“Nice!” You exclaim, putting the wet sign over the vomit and deciding to deal with it later. You stand, tugging your dress down your legs a bit more before giving him a curt nod and exiting the kitchen.

Minghao and Chan had arrived and helped Yerin and Momo haul in the liquor, stacking it across the table in the dining area. Hyunjae and Sangyeon had joined Vernon, Jihoon and Seokmin in playing beer pong on the second floor, and you hauled ass up the stairs to join in. Vernon is holding a lit joint between his fingers as he makes the bitch cup, a scowl on his face as Sangyeon chuckles.

“Hey, Vern. Can I take a hit?” You tap his shoulder, and he hands it to you before ruffling your hair. “Hey, pretty. Why’re you here? Not having fun downstairs?”

“Shut up and drink your bitch cup.” You roll your eyes, and he smirks as he downs the cup. He rearranges his cups into a different shape, and Sangyeon sinks a few as you finish off Vernon’s spliff.

“Damn, what’s got you so stressed out?” He asks, taking what's left and popping it between his lips. “Ugh, nothing. I’m just annoyed.” You roll your eyes as their game ends, and you grab a few beer cans to start a new one.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Y/N!” You hear Hyunjae call from the end of the table, and you just smile and shake your head. “I’m not! I just don’t feel like dry humping a stranger tonight.”

“I’m not a stranger.” Sangyeon says, and you look up at him. He’s peering at you over his cup, the green reflecting off his silver watch. “You’re right.” You shrug, and finish pouring the cups.

“Way to be subtle.” Vernon rolls his eyes, and you smirk. “Don’t worry, Nonnie. You’ll find someone tonight.” Pinching his cheek, you shove him with your hip and settle between him and Jihoon, who steadies you with his hand ghosting over your back. Seokmin makes the first shot for the other team, the ball bouncing into the first cup.

You play for a bit, grimacing every time you down the cups of beer. Eventually, you decide it’s time to just chill in the lounge, and Sangyeon, Jihoon and Hyunjae agree. Seokmin and Vernon admit they’re probably going to raid the fridge for snacks, and you give them a go-ahead as the other men follow you up to the lounge on the third floor.

You see a few of your sisters there, including Jennie and one of the graduated Beta Tau Sigma brothers, Taehyung. They’re canoodling on one of the beanbags, and she glances up at you as you flop onto the couch on the other side of the room.

“Hey, Y/N.” She calls gently, and you look up to see her holding her thumb up, moving it down to see how you’re feeling. You hold a thumbs up, and she nods, returning to her boyfriend. The guys that came with you are sprawled across the floor, with Sangyeon being the only one on the couch with you.

“The room is spinning.” Hyunjae pouts, and you let out a laugh when you hear the door open, looking up to see Vernon and Seokmin with their hands full of snacks, and Soonyoung in after them. He holds up a bag of pre-rolls, and you hold your hand out.

“Is that how you ask, kitty?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, fishing one out as you kneel on the couch, pushing the window behind you open. He tugs your skirt down a bit, and you turn back around to see him lighting the joint for you. “It’s lemon balm. I know you like those the best.”

“Thanks, Kwon.” You nod, taking it between your fingers as he sits on the floor, moving his head to be cradled by your knees. Your heels dig into his chest, and he peels off your shoes and tossed them to the side. Jennie and Taehyung slip out, with Jennie giving you a thumbs up once more. Once you mirror it, she’s out.

The group is quiet, seemingly trying to come down from their drunkenness when Sangyeon speaks. “Why kitty?”

“Huh?” Soonyoung looks up, and Sangyeon takes a sip from his cup. “You called Y/N kitty. Why?”

“Oh. I was a cat at the Halloween party we met at.” You shrug, and you notice Soonyoung’s brows furrow a bit. “That, and she has a kitty tattooed on her hip.”

You swat his shoulder, making him giggle when Sangyeon nods with wide eyes. “And how do you know that?”

“They used to fuck.” Vernon speaks up, popping a cheese curl into his mouth with the utmost nonchalant shrug. You gape at him, and he shoots you a wink. “Thanks, Hansol. Air out my business, why don’t you?”

“Okay. She also-” 

Jihoon claps his hand over Vernon’s mouth, and you roll your eyes as you offer the joint around the group. Hyunjae declines, handing it to Sangyeon. He gives you a glance, seeing you’re already looking at him.

"Isn't Hoshi the Zoology TA? Can't you guys get in some kind of trouble for that?" Hyunjae calls from the floor, making Soonyoung roll his eyes and Sangyeon clears his throat next to you. You glance at him, a stoney look on your face as you gesture to the lit joint in his hand. You're sure they want an answer – but if Soonyoung doesn't say anything, you sure as shit won't.

Taking the hit, Sangyeon passes it back to you and blows the smoke up and out. “That’s really smooth. Do you make these yourself, Hosh?”

“Yeah. It’s just a hobby.” He shrugs, lighting his own up and holding it between his lips. You roll your eyes, “This is also the same guy who rescues kittens for freshmen, teaches a dance class from seven to eight and a self-defense class from eight to nine every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Oh, that’s actually pretty cool. How much do you sell for?” Sangyeon asks, his eyes a little lower as he looks at you instead of Soonyoung, who is glaring. “I don’t, it’s free.”

“I tell him that he’s a horrible business magnate, Mr. President.” You tilt your own joint at him, and he smiles. “Mr. President?”

“Yeah! Aren’t you the Alpha Psi Delta President? I thought I heard about that from Luda last year.” You rest your head on the couch cushion, and notice the way he bites his lip as his eyes trail your body, before he meets your eyes with a nod.

You’re not the only one who notices.

Clearing his throat, Vernon tries to cut the weird tension in the air. “How about we play a game? Truth or dare, or something?”

“I’m the only girl up here, you better not make me do weird shit or your ass is grass.” You threaten, making him smile widely. “Why, I’d never—”

“Shut up, you were the same one who dared her to streak last year.” Seokmin shoves Vernon, and the group hears the door open — Luda, Minghao and Chan trail in with Yerin and Momo in tow.  

“Hey, guys!” Luda greets, and you feel Soonyoung nearly rip himself away from you to greet her. “Hey, Lu.”

“What’re we doing up here?” She asks, taking a seat next to Soonyoung. You grimace inwardly, before feeling Sangyeon’s hand on your knee. He gives you a look that says fix your face, and you inch closer to him now that Soonyoung is literally feet away from you.

“We were gonna do a round of truth or dare.” Jihoon pipes up from the floor, and you smile as the guy covers his eyes. Luda grins, “I’m in! Who’s gonna start?”

You wait until everyone settles, but you catch Minghao’s eyes. He gives you a confused look, his gaze darting to Sangyeon’s hand on your lap. You give him a hard look, and he just shakes his head as Hyunjae sits up to start the game.

“Okay, Luda.” He clears his throat, and she sits up at the sound of her name. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Boring!” Momo pipes up, and a soft giggle spreads through the group. Sangyeon inches a little closer to you, his thigh now touching yours as he rests his hand a little higher on your leg. It’s subtle enough. “What’s your body count?”

She snorts. “Four. Isn’t yours in the double digits?” She teases Hyunjae, who scoffs. “Uh, not that it’s any of your business, but my body count is three.”

The group laughs again, and you find yourself leaning your head against Sangyeon, who props his arm behind you. “Okay, uhm…Y/N!”

You hear Luda call your name, and you give her a wiggle of your brows. “Hit me.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Let’s go…truth. I’ll play it safe.” You shrug, and she smiles. Almost like a cheshire cat, like she knows all your secrets. “Would you sleep with anyone in this room?”

You look around, getting a suggestive brow wiggle from Seokmin and bursting into laughter. “Yeah. I mean, I have. It wouldn’t be weird, I think.”

“Oh, really? Who?” She probes, and you shake your finger at her. “It’s Truth or Dare, not Truth and Explain Yourself.”

She laughs, and you look around the room for your target. “Vernon, truth or dare?”

“I’ll bite, give me a dare.” He pops another cheese curl in his mouth, and you feel your lips tug up at the corners. “I dare you to text Jisun and tell her your feelings for her.”

“Is this payback for last year? It was either that or skinny dipping.” He says pointedly, and you only shrug. “Text her or you’re a wimp.”

“It’s like, twenty degrees outside, Y/N. What if I just streak and risk getting pneumonia?” He feigns distress, and you feel Sangyeon’s fingers gently caressing your shoulder. Is this foreplay?

“Alright, we can do a dare for a dare. Give me something to do, and if I chicken out, you don’t have to text her.” You take a hit of your joint, leaning forward and feeling Sangyeon’s arm fall down your back, fingers now holding your hip lightly. Vernon sees this, clicking his tongue. “Fine. I dare you to makeout with Sangyeon.”

You blink at Vernon, hearing the group collectively ooooh. You scoff, “That’s it? That’s tame as hell, Hansol.”

“You can’t fuck him.” He states, and you smile. “I’m only a woman, Vernon. I have needs.”

“Is anyone going to ask Sangyeon if he’s okay with that?” Luda interjects, and you can sense a bit of a bite in her tone. Sangyeon shrugs, “If Y/N’s cool then I’m cool.”

“How will we even know if they made out? They could lie.” She tries, and you smile at her. “I’m not shy, if you want to watch or something.” You tease, watching her cheeks turn beet red. She shakes her head, and Vernon gives you a pointed look.

“So? What do you say, pipsqueak?”

“Prepare to admit your feelings to the love of your life, Chwe.”

You get up, tugging Sangyeon up with you. You feel a pair of eyes on you, but when you glance over your shoulder, you see Soonyoung glaring at the two of you as you open the door. “We’ll be back.”

You lead him to your bedroom down the hall, hearing him clear his throat as you push the door open and are met with darkness. You fumble with the lamp on your desk for mood lighting, and he smiles down at you. 

“We don’t have to.” He murmurs, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingers aren’t as soft as Soonyoung’s. You shake your head, “If you’re down, I’m down. It’s been a while.”

He just smiles, tilting your head to meet your lips halfway. His lips are softer…you kind of miss the chapped feeling. You sigh into the kiss, your hands moving to his waist as he moves the two of you towards your bed. His hands trail down your waist, cupping your ass as he falls back onto your bed, pulling you on top of him. He groans softly as you adjust in his lap, and you feel his hips cant up.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, making you laugh. "Eagerness is never a bad thing." The kissing is fine. It's a little desperate, a little messy as you grind down on him, but it's not Soonyoung. You pull away, a pout on your lips as the heady feeling of him against your core fills your head. "Not into it, huh?" He asks, and a part of you thinks he's admitting to it, too.

"You like Luda, don't you?" You ask pointedly, and his eyes go wide. "How the fuck–" "Kind of hard not to notice when she's jumping the gun to save you from my grasp." You laugh, rolling off him to stare at your ceiling. Your arm brushes something soft, and you glance up to see the Jellycat octopus from Soonyoung, Inky Minaj.

"How long did you and Hoshi sleep together?" He asks, and you sigh. "About a year. We were playing some stupid game of cat and mouse for my first three years as a student here, then we fucked at the Halloween rager the frat holds every year. Neither of us remembered it, so we fucked the next morning and the rest is history."

He looks at you, and you peer at him through low eyes. "What?" "Nothing. Just kind of sounds like you like him." He says matter-of-factly, and you snort. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I kind of lied to myself for a while. I guess…I think once I realized that maybe he was starting to like me, I stopped it. I don't know. And him being my TA for Zoology definitely made me want to tread lightly." 

He nods, shifting uncomfortably. "Luda slept with him a few weeks ago. Around my birthday, I think." You shoot up almost immediately, turning to face him. "Luda and Soonyoung slept together? When? When is your birthday?" His face contorts into one that speaks I fucked up. "You didn't know? I thought you guys were like, best friends?"

"When, Sangyeon?" You probe, slapping his knee as he grimaces. "I don't know, like the eighth of November? I was out of town." "That son of a bitch." You scoff, and stand up. "Well. Let's go. I need Vernon to hop off my dick about his feelings and hop on Jisun's about them." "Maybe we should wait until you're not upset, Y/N." He says gently, and you groan. "I'm not upset, Soonyoung can fuck whoever he wants, whenever he wants. I'm not his keeper." "But you want to be, don't you?" He says pointedly, and you huff in response. "Come on, Mr. President. I've got a point to prove, and it's that I don't need Kwon Soonyoung to get laid." "We all already know that, pretty." He rolls his eyes, allowing you to lead him out. He shuts your door, and makes it a big show of fixing your skirt and wiping his lips of your gloss as you open the door to the lounge. Soonyoung and Luda are draped across the couch, and you lock eyes with him the moment you step inside the room. Minghao, unable to read the room for the first time, turns and cheers.

"Woo! How was it?" He asks, taking a swig from the bottle of Pink Whitney that somehow made its way upstairs. "Pretty good." You admit shyly, feeling Sangyeon sit on the ground with you. He pulls you onto his lap, and you give Vernon a knowing look.

"You gotta do it, Chwe." "Oh, come on! You hate me!" "I don't hate you, but I sure am tired of hearing you mope about Jisun." "How are you even coherent right now? You had two spliffs and a shitload of beer." You smile, wiggling your fingers for his phone. "Give it here, Chwe." He groans, handing it over to you. You unlock it, not unable to shake Soonyoung's eyes off you. You know he's eyeing the man holding you, because he shifts under you and even brushes the hem of your dress. You smirk to yourself as you scroll to Vernon's conversation with Jisun, seeing a pre-drafted message sitting in the text box.

Msg To: Roh Jisun (the loml who doesn't know she's the loml yet)

[4:31am] hi jisun. i just wanted to say that uhh i've liked you for a while and i know it's late (or early….wtv you prefer) and i do not expect you to answer this at all (because i'm a wimp) but if it's not a bother, i'd like to take you out. to dinner, maybe, or whatever you'd like to do. i know you like making jewelry, though, i know this cool jeweler in the city who does like,,,classes. maybe? sorry this is so awkward i'm nervous.

You read over it, and look at Vernon. He's blushing deeply, and you smile softly. "Just send it, Nonnie." "What if she says no?" "What if she says yes?" Momo speaks up, and you see her also taking a sip from the bottle of Pink Whitney. The group echoes her, and Vernon sighs. "Okay, fine. Fine! I'll send it and if she says no I'll just…act normal." He turns the screen to face everyone, pressing send with his ring finger and fully launching the phone across the room. "Well! That's that!" He smiles, reaching for the bottle of Pink Whitney and taking a long drink.

"Who's next?"

February 7th.

Zoology with Soonyoung was not nearly as bad as you thought it was going to be. He stayed true to his word – if you were cool, he marked you present. If you were a douche, he marked you absent. His office hours were erratic, and you found it increasingly difficult to get a hold of him for the first few classes. He was always helping another classmate, or busy with his classes at the dance studio.

In other news, Sangyeon was avoiding you like the fucking plague. You'd waved at him a few days after the party, when you noticed a bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He greeted you quickly, before leaving you practically in the dust. Luda was also increasingly cold to you, but you just assumed it was over one of the boys – whether it was Soonyoung or Sangyeon was beyond you.

Vernon actually managed to woo Jisun. She was charmed by his general awkwardness, and when she texted you about it, you laughed and told her that it was the most outward emotion you'd seen him exude since you'd known the guy. She laughed and said he was sweet, and that she'd let you know how the date went. Vernon screamed in your messages about it and stated "I hope you get the best head in the world."

Speaking of getting the best head in the world, you finally caught Soonyoung in the hallway today, asking him if you could have an impromptu study session in the library later. He sighed, checking his watch and agreeing rather reluctantly. You grimaced, and told him you didn't have to ask him, you could very well just join the Zoology study group that met twice a week.

He apologized and said he'd book the study room for five, and that he'd meet you there.

Well, it's now six and the two of you have done nothing but bicker. You'd asked about Lorenz and what he meant about the transposibility of key stimuli, to which he'd just scoffed and said that you'd know all about key stimuli.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You spit, and he just shook his head. "Whatever. Key stimuli is just something that can trigger specific sensory information in an animal's brain. So certain shapes, colors, sounds, even gestures and behaviors can trigger an animal to act in a certain manner." You sucked your teeth, jotting down his words before speaking. "Do you know what happened to Sangyeon?" He almost snaps his neck looking up at you, brows furrowed as he shakes his head. "No? Why does that even matter, aren't we supposed to be studying?" You raise a brow at him, "Why are you so defensive, dude? I'm just asking you if you know what happened. He and Luda have been avoiding me like I have lice." "Get a monkey." He shrugs, looking back down at his phone. He's scrolling mindlessly, and you huff as you put down your pen. "Alright. What's the problem, Soonyoung?" He winces slightly, before shaking his head. "Don't know what you mean. Do you understand now? Or do you still need to understand the difference between key stimuli and releasers? People have been asking all week about that." You frown, feeling your throat a bit tight as you sit up. "Why are you acting like this?" You murmur, and he must hear something in your voice that makes him look up. "Acting like what?" "Like you can't stand to be in the same room as me." "That's not true." He rolls his eyes, and you scoff. "It sure seems like it. I ask you a question about class, you're rude. I mention Sangyeon and Luda, you're annoyed and irritated. Did I do something? Are you upset with me?" It seems your prodding has been more of you poking the bear, because he sucks his teeth and slides his phone onto the table. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am upset with you. And you did do something." "Okay? So tell me what it is so we can fix it." You state, and he laughs dryly. "We? There is no we in you and Sangyeon making out like a pair of lovesick idiots at the stoplight party. He was practically eye fucking you the entire time you were together."

"I don't see what the hell that has to do with you, Soonyoung." You retort, and he shakes his head. "I just don't understand why you'd make me feel like there was something between us and then go and make out with some other guy. He likes Luda, you know, so it's not like it would have gone anywhere." His tone is bitter, and you can recognize he's saying all of this to hurt your feelings. Maybe because he's hurt, and he feels disappointed in his own choices. Nonetheless, it gets under your skin and hits just the right bullseye for you to explode.

"Where the fuck do you get off telling me what I can and can't do with my life, Soonyoung? You and I both agreed that this wasn't mutually exclusive, and Sangyeon and I just made out! You and I haven’t even fucked since we stopped last year, so I don't understand why your panties are in a twist!" You exclaim, and he scoffs out a breath of disbelief.

"You know what, maybe this entire thing was a fucking mistake. I should've never asked for there to even be an 'us', because if I knew I was going to feel this way knowing that you can just do whatever or whoever you want–" You cut him off before he can finish. "Is that what you think I'm doing? I've literally rejected so many people in just the past year because you were acting like you couldn't live without me! So what if I kissed Sangyeon? So what if I did? Forgive me for thinking that maybe you changed your mind about me and how you felt about me after you slept with Luda! You're not the only one who felt led on, you know?!" Your breathing is heavy as you finish yelling, with Soonyoung blinking at you, ears red. "You know about that?" His voice is almost ashamed. Almost.

"If you didn't want to make this an exclusive thing, or make the people around us think we were together, you should've stopped pulling me into random bedrooms to fuck and kissing me in the kitchen of the frat. Maybe don't buy me a Jellycat Octopus and say you want to be exclusive with me if you're just going to pull this sort of shit." You feel tears sting your eyes as you rip your bag off the chair in front of you, feeling your throat tighten as you grab your remaining things off the table. "Y/N-" "You know, it may be taking you five years to finish your degree, but I want to finish mine on time. Have a good life, Soonyoung. Don't call me." You spit, watching his jaw drop slightly before tightening. "I won't." "Good." "Great." "Fine." 

He watches as you slam the door behind you, feeling his stomach sink damn near into the ground as he sees the sweater you were wearing still hanging across the back of your chair. "Fine."

February 14th.

It'd been a week since your fight with Soonyoung.

He'd unfollowed you on Instagram, and seemingly decided to pretend as though you didn't exist. He didn't acknowledge you if you were over at the frat for Minghao, and he certainly didn't speak to you. You'd asked him to pass you the salt when you'd gone over yesterday for a Valentine's dinner party with the brothers, and he just left the table without a word. It was embarrassing enough that you asked Minghao to walk you home. 

What you didn't know was that the fellow girlfriends of his frat brothers spoke to him about his behavior. Sana and Jisun called Sowon over FaceTime and even had Seungcheol talk to him, and he stood there and took the scolding like a puppy with his tail between his legs. Seungcheol told him that his behavior towards you wasn't going to get you to forgive him, much less be with him and that he understood that Soonyoung felt negatively about your actions – but that Soonyoung cannot be upset about it because he had his chance and he blew it by making out with Yujin at the Halloween party.

Talk about key stimuli. Bad behavior does not get rewarded.

He'd been left with his own thoughts after that, and he stared at all the little trinkets he had that reminded him of you. The sweater you left in the library was hung over his desk chair, and it still smelled of your citrusy perfume. The piggy bank you got him for his birthday was sitting on his bookshelf, still stuffed full with new bills you put in before giving it to him. You'd also given him a few items of clothing that reminded you of him, one of which being an oversized black sweater with your initials embroidered in the sleeve. He frequently wore it unless he was sure he'd be seeing you.

He didn't know why. It just felt nice to…feel like he belonged to you.

"Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!" He's standing in front of the class, and the sophomore girls in the front of the room coo at his cheerfulness. You're sitting behind them, a sour expression on your face as he dims the lights, a baggy navy cardigan draped over your shoulders. You didn't like that one as much as the one you'd left in the library.

"In honor of this pseudo holiday, we're going to go over the most romantic of animals. Consider this a free class, because this is definitely not on the syllabus or in the curriculum, I just like to talk about it." He smiles, and the group of girls aww again, and you make a face as he turns the projector to the next slide.

"Naturally, you have the ones you've heard of the most. Penguins, seahorses, swans, and doves. Shit, even elephants are said to mate for life, and become extremely depressed if their lover suddenly passes or, in some cases, just up and leaves. But my favorite?"

He changes the slide, seeing your eyes widen as your favorite fish fills the screen.

"The French Angelfish mate for life. Monogamy isn't usually practiced amongst observed populations of fish, though. So much so that there is an analogy called the Fish Love Analogy. This is when your partner can meet all your needs, both emotional and physical, but ultimately only turns into an object of desire." You frown at this, but he changes the slide.

"French Angelfish are rarely seen alone, as once they've mated, they're inseparable. It's really quite beautiful and it proves that animals are sentient beings." He smiles slightly, looking around to see everyone jotting down notes.

"What about you, Soonyoung? Do you believe in that stuff?" One of the sophomore girls speaks up, and he shrugs. "I do, yes. I think it's a beautiful thing, to fall in love and have that person forever. I think as humans, though, we forget to cherish what we have. That's why the rate of divorce is so high." You roll your eyes.

"Do you think you've found your forever, Soonyoung?" Another one of the girls asks, and he sighs. "You know, I have. I have found her, but I'm also a human that doesn't know how to cherish good parts of life. Animals are just wired to operate in a certain way, but giving humans free will has truly affected us as a society." He scoffs, earning a laugh from the class.

You're not smiling, but he sees your lips twitch slightly.

"What if she's not your Angelfish, though?" Someone from behind you speaks up, and he purses his lips. His eyes find yours, and he can practically feel them pierce through him.

"I doubt that she's not."

He turns back to the slides, proceeding to talk about how humans have romanticized doves and swans to be representative of love. He finishes the slides quickly, bidding everyone a happy Valentine's day once more and earning echoes of the girls telling him they hope he and his Angelfish figure it out. He thanked them, hitching his backpack over his shoulder as he held the door open for them.

He looks over them, spotting you still gathering your materials. You glance up at him, a silent communication of please wait for me from your eyes. He does, he waits as you walk down the steps and tug your cardigan around you tightly. He remembers when you bought it, he was with you and you were actually wearing the same dress you have on now, the long skirt now paired with platform boots so it doesn't drag on the floor. You slip out in front of him, and wait a few feet away as he locks the door. You stare at the floor as he falls into pace next to you, albeit a few feet behind. You're leading the way to somewhere, he notes, because you're not headed towards the frat or your place. He follows silently, never closing the gap between you as you turn into the veterinary hallway.

The graduating class last year had raised enough money to install an aquarium for viewing pleasure. It had all sorts of fish – including angelfish. You stopped in front of it, with him lingering a few feet behind and watching from afar. You point silently, the fish swimming past your hand and joining another.

"Which one are you?" You mumble, and he steps closer to you, but not enough to touch you. "Probably the male one." You snort, backing up slightly, your knuckles brushing as you clasp your hands behind your back.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, and he shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry." "Let's just agree we're both sorry." You shrug, and he sighs. "You shouldn't have to be sorry, though. I've always come off so strong, and I'm sorry if you felt like I was projecting my feelings onto you. You don't ever have to reciprocate if you don't want to." "Do you want me to?" You ask gently, watching the fish swim in circles. He hesitates, before nodding. "I don't think there is anything I want more." He murmurs, and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

"Careful, I won't get you a gift for your birthday this year." You joke, but you see him sink slightly, before he's kneeling on the floor. "Soonyoung?" "I'm sorry I've been such an asshole, I know I don't deserve to be with you in any form." He hugs your knees, and you feel your cheeks flame as someone walks by you. "Soonyoung, get up." "Not until you forgive me." He squeezes your legs tighter, and a couple of girls walk by, gaping at the sight. "I forgive you! Just get up!" You grit, tugging his arm up and hurrying away from the hallway. 

His eyes are teary as you pull him into a janitor's closet, making you scoff out a laugh as you wipe his eyes. "Oh, don't cry. I don't like seeing you cry." You say gently, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. His lips jut out in a pout as his hands come up to your wrists.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, and you roll your eyes. "Really?"

“Is that a no?” “I should make you grovel, honestly.” “I’m not above begging, you should know this.” “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

He does.

He does, and it's the warmest you'd felt in a long time. His lips are just as chapped as the last time he'd kissed you, his fingers just as soft as they held your face gently. You feel him press himself against you as his tongue slowly licks into your mouth. You play along, your fingers curling into his hair and tugging softly. He whines against your lips, making you smirk as you pull him away.

"Still wanna get on your knees?" You murmur, and he nods quickly as he sinks to his knees in front of you, and you clear your throat as he pulls your leg over his shoulder, pushing your skirt up to your hips. His breath is warm against your skin as he gasps, peering up at you from behind the bunched fabric. "You're not–" "You're about to yap yourself out of some ass, shut up." You roll your eyes, making him frown as his eyes disappear under your skirt, feeling his teeth nip at your thigh. You flinch, no longer used to his biting habits. "Be gentle." "Yeah, yeah. I don't tell you how to kiss other guys, don't tell me how to eat your pussy." He grumbles, and you go to argue before you feel his tongue circle your clit slowly. You sigh, feeling his free hand snake up to lace his fingers with yours. You hold his fingers tightly as he buries his face into your cunt, eagerly soaking up whatever you'll give him.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, feeling a bit of anxiety pool in your stomach as you hear students walk past the closet. He pulls you even closer, slurping obscenely when you hear someone stop in front of the door, murmured whispers and soft kissing sounds when the doorknob jiggles. You see Soonyoung's hand shoot to grab it, attempting to hold the door tightly shut as they pull.

He doesn't pull away when they yank the door open, leaving you to nearly topple as you yank your skirt down, hiding him beneath it. You're faced with Lee Chan and his girlfriend,Jung Haerim, lipstick smeared all over his face and neck as your own burns in embarrassment. His jaw drops, and you find yourself squirming away from Soonyoung's tongue as you shove him away. 

Soonyoung pouts as he exits your skirt, a deep frown on his glistening lips as he looks at Chan. "Really, man?" "You're the one stealing my closet! You know this is my spot!" Chan argues as Soonyoung stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, your orgasm ruined and humiliation levels on 10. "You know, getting fucked in a mop closet shouldn't be something you're proud of." Soonyoung scoffs as he grabs your hand once more, tugging you out as Chan and Haerim blink at the two of you. She opens her mouth, holding up her finger before closing it, pressing her lips together. "Can't we just go to my place?"

"Should've thought of that earlier!" Soonyoung yells over his shoulder, picking up his pace as he hears Chan start after the two of you. You feel the awkward tension start to dissipate as you both bolt down the hallway, and you feel him take a sharp turn towards the fraternity. You hear Chan start yelling curse words before his footsteps stop, and the two of you just giggle to yourselves as you keep running towards the house.

Seeing the house come into view, the two of you quickly make your way up the steps and nearly slam into Seungcheol, who had come to visit (without anyone's knowledge.) He barely moves out of the way as you and Soonyoung barrel up the stairs, not even acknowledging a rather stoned Vernon and Jisun on the second floor landing before sliding into his room. It seemed both of you were on the same page about finishing what was started.

The room is full of clattering as you both undress, and your books are thrown to the side as his hands pull you to him before you both topple onto his bed. His lips are instantly on yours, but it's too chaste – and you hear him murmur something before he presses his lips to yours again.

"I love you." You scoff out a laugh, before you see the seriousness in his eyes. Blinking, you sit up a bit, your fingers trembling as you gently stroke his cheek. He nibbles his lip, and you can feel another laugh bubble in your throat. His ears tinge pink as you laugh, pulling him back down to your level, nuzzling your nose against his softly.

"I love you, too."

His eyes widen, and you swear he stops breathing before you tap him gently. "Hosh? You there?" He blinks, his hand tightens reflexively around your hip. "Yeah…I'm here."

You smile at him, tilting your head as you run your fingers through his hair. "You mean it, right? Do you love me?" "Let me be struck by Zeus himself if I'm lying."

The two of you laugh after a moment, and he swallows carefully. Neither of you make a move to get down to business, instead staring at each other like this was the last time you'd ever see each other. "You okay?" You murmur, and he shakes his head. "You love me." "You know, I figured it would be pretty obvious that I'd liked you well before we ever slept together." You say pointedly. "I'm still not forgiving you, though. You'll have to work for that." He quirks his brow at you, before pushing off you and flopping onto his back. You look at him, and he clears his throat. "M'lady, your throne awaits." "You're an idiot." "Your idiot, now come on. I've got to prove myself to you."

May 9th.

"Y/L/N Y/N." 

Cheers are heard around the auditorium as your name is called, but not even your parents are as loud as your boyfriend amongst your graduating class. "THAT'S MY BABY!"

You feel your cheeks heat as everyone aw's and ooh's, hearing his fraternity brothers blow kazoos like idiots in the stands. The ceremony quickly came to an end as the last few names were called, the security attempting to diffuse crowds of people exiting. You found yourself looking for your boyfriend, finding him being embraced by Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua as his eyes searched for you.

Your relationship with Soonyoung was not perfect by any means. You nearly failed Zoology because he kept interrupting your studying to kiss you, often leading to other things before you would crawl out of his bed to your laptop on the desk, before being lured back in by your siren of a boyfriend. The two of you kept it under wraps best as you could, seeing if Professor Kwon found out (or anyone else, really) you could both get in trouble.

But, everyone seemed to finally be satisfied with the outcome. You and Soonyoung were set to go to grad school together, and everyone congratulated the two of you as you made your relationship official – posting each other freely on social media almost everyday. Coffee dates photographed on your story turned into study (and sex) sessions, his Instagram story was full of you in cute workout sets as you finally let him drag you to his Tuesday dance class. Your dashboard was full of him posting you as much as he could, captions of "my girlfriend!!!" and "me n u…get it? menu…#lovestagram" under a photo of the two of you at a diner.

Your sorority and his fraternity came together to host a graduation party for all the graduates, and you and Soonyoung were going to arrive together. You stare at him from your position near the doors, waiting for him to spot you. You'd both worn a soft pink under your white gowns, and his eyes scan the entire area before finally landing on you. He fights his way out of his friends' arms, and you hear him exclaim to them that he needs to find his girlfriend.

As he approaches you, you think of the tangled web that had been your relationship. A bit of jealousy wrapped in emotional unavailability and insecurities from the both of you, like a cricket held down by a spider's thread. You think about the chase, the game of cat and mouse that the two of you played as you kissed eagerly, a mess of tongues and spit before he'd have to slip away. You think about the first time he smoked you out, and how he'd laughed and held you tightly when you told him you felt like you were about to fall off the Earth.

You think about his growth as a person, about his growth as a man and his growth as your person. The person you found yourself drawn to since you'd stepped foot in Beta Tau Omega four years ago. The same person who bought you a new laptop and then took you out to dinner, the same person who immediately glued himself to you once he found out how much you had in common.

The same person who left when he felt like everything was too much by your side, only to admit his wrongs a year later and beg for your forgiveness on a roof in the middle of autumn. The same person who then slowly lured you into his sticky and tangled web of emotions and unspoken confessions, of kisses full of I love you and embraces screaming I missed you. The same person who said you're his angelfish, his person, his forever. The same person who realizes his mistakes and pushes his pride aside to apologize, even if it means the two of you end up a mess of spit and cum and tears. The same person who tells you now, every night, that he loves you and has done everything he can to prove it day by day.

"Hey, kitty." His smile is warm and full of mischief as his hand gently brushes your hair away from your face, revealing the earrings he gave you a few weeks ago. He thumbs at them softly, before pulling you in closely for a chaste kiss. You smile at him, knowing that this tangled mess is only the beginning of your forever with him. "Let's get out of here."

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[sailoryooons]

Angel | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences. 

☾ Word Count: 15,551

☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end. 

☾ Published: September 3, 2023

☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist

Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.

She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.

Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night. 

Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it. 

Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property.  Let’s try to play nice and show face. 

Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do. 

Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl. 

“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.” 

“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.

“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”

Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway. 

It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.

Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.

Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts. 

Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer. 

They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right. 

Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him. 

“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”

“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”

“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.” 

“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”

“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”

“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.” 

Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.” 

A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound. 

Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.

When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.

People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top. 

The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well. 

Old Yoongi might not be so impressed. 

Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom. 

The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely. 

Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.

Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck. 

Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone. 

Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal. 

Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house. 

Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced. 

Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly. 

Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.

Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.

Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses. 

His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel. 

Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.

The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops. 

At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning. 

Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients. 

It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store. 

“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”

“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”

“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”

“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time. 

“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”

“Thanks, Angel.”

“Mhmm.”

His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes. 

Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in. 

Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required. 

In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm. 

Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.

Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you. 

He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space. 

He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too. 

It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work. 

Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms. 

With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room. 

Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time. 

“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.

“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh. 

You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back. 

Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you. 

“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.

“Mhmm. Just a long night.”

“You smell like perfume.”

“Hmm?”

“Like peaches.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.” 

“Interesting.”

“Not particularly.” 

He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of  your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”

Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.” 

“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.” 

Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for. 

Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning. 

“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”

“Are you a foot person?”

“What if I was?”

You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”

Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.

“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”

“That so?”

“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”

Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability. 

You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly. 

So he does. 

Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly. 

Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you. 

His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds. 

Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees. 

He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no. 

Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs. 

Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead. 

Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it. 

Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.

When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.

This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to. 

There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you. 

“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.” 

“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.” 

He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.” 

A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth. 

“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.” 

Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair. 

The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.

Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out. 

“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.” 

He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.

When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.

Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful. 

“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough. 

The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.

“You don’t-”

“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?” 

“Fuck yeah, Angel.” 

Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him. 

Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him. 

“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.

“Give it to me.”

One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching. 

Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home. 

A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier. 

Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.

The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.

Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything. 

There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.

You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love. 

Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day. 

“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”

“I’d sleep in them anyway.”

“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”

“Meh.”

“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”

“Huh. So you are jealous.”

“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.” 

-

Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.

Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake. 

When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be. 

You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time. 

Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.

The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.

A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.

“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.

Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder. 

“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.” 

With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.

Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it. 

Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth. 

You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have. 

As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to. 

Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself. 

At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.

If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters. 

It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself. 

And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now. 

The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him. 

After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner. 

You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers. 

Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile. 

Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head. 

The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin. 

At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator. 

It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly. 

Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.

While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.

Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away. 

Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning. 

Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.

Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.

You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip. 

He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement. 

Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left. 

-

Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt. 

Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen. 

The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something. 

A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss. 

“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”

You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle. 

Money. This man has money. 

Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately. 

The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either. 

The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.

If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.

“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”

“Well said.”

Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.

“Do you know where we are?”

You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”

He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”

“You asked a question.”

“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”

“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”

He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.” 

Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.

“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”

“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”

You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”

“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”

“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”

“To get their cock sucked, usually.”

Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.

Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder. 

“I will fucking kill you.” 

There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.

You need to be valuable. And fast. 

“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.” 

Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”

“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.” 

“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”

“One way to find out, right?”

Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.

Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen. 

Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.

Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life. 

You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.

It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is. 

Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”

You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”

“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”

“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”

“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”

“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”

“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”

This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.” 

“Okay.” 

His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“See you soon.”

-

Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat. 

When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood. 

Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin. 

All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?

Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe? 

Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi. 

“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”

“What?” Yoongi demands.

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.” 

It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting. 

“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”

“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”

“He told you where they were?”

“No, she did.”

Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”

“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”

“In front of-”

“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”

“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”

“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”

“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”

Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”

An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.

I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead? 

In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated. 

None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again. 

-

Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.

You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.

It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost. 

You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm. 

At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have. 

Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage. 

It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it. 

You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live. 

The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.

You’re not sure if it’s that simple. 

It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.

Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off. 

Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.

A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried. 

When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined. 

Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.

His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety. 

Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

Click. Squeeze. Bang. 

You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand. 

A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.

Squeeze. Bang. 

It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels. 

Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified. 

“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!” 

“That’s it, keep talking to me.” 

It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!” 

Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-

Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.

Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths. 

“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No.”

“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?” 

“I don’t-”

“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place. 

Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”

You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather. 

When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off. 

“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun. 

“Yes.”

“Then why-”

“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”

“Okay.” 

“Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”

-

A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you. 

It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.

Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home. 

Home. 

The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare. 

Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now. 

Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only. 

The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense. 

So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this. 

Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling. 

The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.

“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”

“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”

“Give me five.” 

When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching. 

Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk. 

Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs. 

Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.

You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle. 

Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.

He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him. 

When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.

He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver. 

Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw. 

Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good. 

One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good. 

Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you. 

Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.

“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking. 

He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Hmmm.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.” 

“Fuck.” 

He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little. 

“Fuck yeah.” 

You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself. 

“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.

“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.” 

“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”

“You do.”

“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.” 

The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”

“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.” 

“Mmm.” 

The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying. 

He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.

A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”

“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”

Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock. 

Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad. 

Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity. 

“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?” 

“Fuuuuck yeah.”

His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.” 

“Shit shit shit shit.” 

You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it. 

The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin. 

For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest. 

“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours.”

“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”

You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”

He pauses. “What?”

“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.” 

“Then why stay there?”

You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and  the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”

“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”

“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”

He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.” 

[valentinegab3]

BTS story recommendations

This is a list of fics I have personally read and a mix of fics I still have to read. It will continuously be updated with new quality fics that I read or see on my for you page. All of these are so good and the authors are absolutely amazing writers. I hope you enjoy!

a - angst | s - smut | f - fluff

Jungkook

Never Been a Friend > brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader

Raven Unit @themfchase - Series [6/6] | 60.9k |  political au, taskforce au, war crime, suspense, feat OT7, president’s daughter!OC, soldier!jungkook | s, a, f

The Good Soldier@thewanderingalias - Series [12/12] | 44k | military au, war au, medic!reader, sergeant!jungkook | a , s (heavy angst, minor char ☠️)

We Can't Be Friends @joonberriess - Oneshot | 9.8k | exes to lovers | a , s

Coquet @shina913 -Series [11/11] | 77.7k | Escort!JJK x Fem-reader, Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers | f , a , s

Just Take It @ahgasegotarmy116 - Series [6/7] | Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap), cheating, pregnancy | s, a

Horny for My Bestie @jkslipppiercing - Oneshot | 8.5k | Bsf!oc, horny!jk. | s , a

Dont get attached @xoxomoonlightxoxo -Series | 6.8k | ex-boyfriend jungkook x y/n, toxic relationship, cheating, attachment issues, possessiveness | s , a

Strictly Platonic @jeonqkooks - Oneshot | 19.4k | best friends to lovers, college au, fake dating au | f , a , s

Lonely Hearts Club @joonbird - Oneshot | 18k | tattoo artist au, angst, smut, dystopian/sci-fi AU | A , s ( I dont think this ever got completed so if you enjoy open ended stories this is your cup of tea)

Lemon Sherbet @extravaguk - Oneshot | 15k | summer!au, ex highschool classmates, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist/piercing artist!junkook, popular!reader | f , a , s

Set On You @bymoonchild - Oneshot | 18.1k | volleyball!AU, college!AU, setter Jungkook x manager reader | f , s

Cat Got Your Tongue? @jessikahathaway - Oneshot | 18.1k | College!AU, FWB to Lovers, Romance | s , little bit of a

The Reaper @deepdarkdelights - Oneshot | 14k | Yandere Mercenary Jungkook x  Reader | s

Está Dañada @aquagustd - Oneshot | 20k | neighbor au, slow burn, singer!JK, strong language, pining, dog dad JK, really soft JK, toxic relationship + mentions of infidelity (not between Y/N & JK) | S , a , f

Stay @lolabangtan - series [16/16] | 155k | mutual pining, jock!Jungkook, ex queen bee!noona reader, college AU, enemies to lovers, roommates AU, side Jimin x OC, fake dating, pining, bets, slow burn, forced proximity.| s , a

Tantalizing @littlemisskookie - Series [ 8/8] | 48.3k | Past highschool classmates in college, fwb!jungkook and nerd!reader | a , s

Microwave (Mis)adventures @bymoonchild - Oneshot | 20k | college!AU, roommates/housemates!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, | f, a , s

Cruel Intentions @explicit-tae - Series [5/5] | 80.7k | Mafia!Jungkook, x reader, yandere themes | s , a

The Devil's Change Up @jungblue - Oneshot | 41.3k | Pitcher!Jungkook x reader, baseball player au, college | s , f , a

Candles & Flames @taegularities - Series [4/4] | 100.8k | enemies to lovers, royal!au, fake dating, fuckboy!jk, royal!jk, lies, jealousy | a , f , s

Employed @personasintro - Series [tbd] | tbd | ceo!jungkook x reader, enemies to lovers | a , s , f

The Art of War More @kpopfanfictrash - Oneshot | 42.4k | Jungkook x reader, Enemies to Lovers/ College!AU, Hockey!AU, | a , s , f

⭐Ideations Concerning Real Life Relations @venusiangguk - Oneshot | 40.9k | jungkook x reader / fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, heartbreak | ANGST, s , tiny f

Safety Net @pradaksj - Series [2/2] | 40k | Jungkook x reader, enemies to friends, friends to lovers, roommates au, boxer!jk, pining | a , s , f

After I left You @latetaektalk - Oneshot | 38.9k | Jungkook x reader, exes!AU, fake dating!AU, enemies to lovers-ish!AU, unrequited feelings-ish!AU. | a , f

Glitter and Disquiet @joheunsaram - Series [2/2] | 38.8k | ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader,  chaebol!au,  virgin!Jungkook,  open relationships | a , s , f

It Takes Two @junghelioseok - Oneshot | 29.8k | fake dating!au, roommate!au | s , a , f

A Holiday Snowdown @kpopfanfictrash - Oneshot | 36.3k | Jungkook x reader, Enemies to Lovers, Ski Resort!AU, Snowboarder!AU | s , a , f

How To Get A Guy @taeshobipop - Series [2/2] | 35.9k |  Jungkook x Reader | [slight] Yoongi x Reader, roommates!au, college!au, fuckboi!jk, enemies to friends to lovers, basketball player!Jungkook, basketball captain!Yoongi | a , s , f

Twelve Hours @whatifyoulivelikethat - Series [2/2] | 23k | jungkook x reader; implied taehyung x reader, film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin. Distantly knew eachother since highschool. | s , a , f

Airplane, pt.2 @xjoonchildx - Series [6/6] | 22.4k | criminal!jk, koreanamerican! jungkook, unrealistic af but good | s

By It's Cover @gimmesumsuga - Oneshot | 21k | jungkook x reader | s

ungodly hour (six parts) + drabble @explicit-tae - Series | 21.5k| Jungkook x reader | s

Hidden Stars @jungblue - Series [5/5+] completed | 37.4k | jungkook x reader, idol!AU | a , s

Lost and Found @kooktrash - Oneshot | 18.7k | Jungkook x reader, mid-20’s friendships | s, a

And They Were Roommates @hoseok666 - Series [6/7] In progress | 70.5k | jungkook x reader/taehyung x reader strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, college!jungkook AU, college!taehyung AU, tsundere! jungkook, warm personality taehyung, slowburn | a , s, f

Chasing Cars @oddinary4bts - Series [7.5/17] |182.9k| jungkook x reader brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others. | a, s

Falling @starshapedkookie - Oneshot | 31.4k | jungkook x female reader, soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, | a, s, f

Love Alive @jamaisjoons - Oneshot | 17k | Jungkook x reader, post break up au. exes to lovers au | A, s, f

⭐Falling Skies @fortunexkookie - Series [6/6] | 50k | Jungkook x reader Angst / Hurt and Comfort / Grief and Coping / Fluff / Smut / Frienemies to Lovers | s, f, a

Sugarplum Elegy @bymoonchild -Oneshot | 17.9k | Junkook x reader, College!AU, Idiots to lovers!AU, FWB!AU, Soundcloud singer!AU, pining, constipated feelings, emotionally constipated Jungkook | s, a, f

Neighbor Blunder @awrkive - Series [undetermined] | 17.8k | neighbor!jungkook x reader, bff!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, mature language. | a, f, s

I Need You @smoljimjim - Series IP [32/39] | 82k+ | married dilfJK x OC named Siri, strangers-friends-lovers, cheating au, slow burn romance, happy ending | a, f, s

Espresso @joonberriess - Oneshot | 14.6k | boxer!jk x idol!OC , jealous!jk, possessive!jk, oc’s a pillow princess | f, s

Obsession @94blazed - Twoshot [2/2] | 21.8k | Seven wednesday jungkook x reader. Fwb!jungkook, ft. Jungkook's ex. | s, f, a

For The Birds @yoonieper - Series IP [1/14+] | 12.6k + | Jungkook x reader, cheating, toxic jk, slow burn, CEO jungkook, fluff | a, s, f

Cold Nights & Blurred Lines @awrkive - Oneshot | 26.6k | Basketball player Jungkook x reader

Jimin

Peaches & Piercings @jkangelic - Oneshot | 20k | cheerleader!reader x punk!jimin, punk!jimin, e2l, college au, jimin is a whole asshole. | s, a

Lover to lean on @sketchguk - Oneshot | 20k | neighbor!jimin x florist!reader, neighbor AU, flower shop AU, pining, unrequited love 🤔| s , f , a

[Unnamed] @honeymoonjin - Oneshot | 25k | jimin x reader roomates, cabin in amazon rainforest, shy young graduate student!jimin, butterfly studying, subby jimin | f , a , s

Oh, What a World @cutechim - Series [16/16] | 140k+ | f. lawyer!reader x solo artist!jimin, fake marriage au, fallen idol au, fuckboy!jimin, possesive!jimin, unrequited feelings | f , a , s

Believe it @writtenwhalien - Oneshot | 28.7k |  mechanic!jimin x reader friends to enemies to lovers (it’s more complicated though) | (high school + bet AU) | f , s , a

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[perfectlyoongi]

THE FEELING OF BEING ALIVE

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... of all the emotions you've ever felt, none were worthy of making you feel alive; that is, until you invited your best friend over to your house after a night out.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... jungkook x afab!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... long-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... smut (make-out, dry humping, tit play, bitting, cúm play, mi thinks a liiiil masturbatíon (m receiving), needy jk. if u squint u see that he likes u) - mdni pls !!, alcohol, mature language, best friends to ???, pet names (angel, love). i swear this is not angsty !! ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 3.8k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... this was so f-ing hard oh god hope it's decent lol ♡ enjoy !! - not proof read, eng is not my 1st language xx

What does it feel like to be alive?

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. Between complex relationships and obscene adventures, years of your existence were dedicated to searching for the answer to that question that tormented your mind so much.

It was impossible not to think about something else – you always felt empty, like a puppet in the hands of a destiny that had little interest in you. Any emotion you felt, you felt vaguely, there really was nothing that made you happy or left you crying. You were simply hollow. Nothing existed in you.

As such, you were searching. You desperately searched for emotions and stories that could bring a little meaning to your life. You didn't ask for much, just a small sensation that would make you finally understand why you were here, why you were alive. However, until now, nothing lived up to your expectations – you continued to live day after day with the hope of a change that never seemed to come. But you weren't going to give up.

For now, you just wanted to have fun – who knows; maybe it was in the loud melodies of the club or in the sweet drops of your drink that you would find what you were looking for most. Or even in the hands of your best friend that didn't seem to let go of your body.

The club was full, noisy. The intense smell of alcohol invaded the space, drowned out by the loud and absurd music that echoed through the walls of the place. Different people participated in jovial rituals between rhythmic movements and colorful drinks, filling the club with pure entertainment and euphoria. And you were one of those people.

With your left hand you held a half-empty glass, moving it above your head according to the rhythm of the music that was playing. Your right hand was resting on Jungkook's shoulder, who, with both of his hands, held your hips as he helped you sway to his favorite song.

Jungkook had arrived today from his tour. It was your custom to meet up whenever he returned home, spending hours talking about the singer's adventures, recounting everything he had missed while he was away from your life. And, as usual, you always ended up in a bar or club, wanting to end your day completely drunk on pure ecstasy.

For some time now your words had lost all meaning. Both you and Jungkook were too focused on the alcohol coursing through your veins to hold any conversation. Not that it was necessary. Between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other.

The song was coming to an end, Jungkook slowing your movements as he held your left hand and pulled your glass towards him. After sipping your sweet drink, Jungkook brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost kissing your ear to make himself heard in the midst of that commotion.

“It’s already three in the morning.”

You nodded and, after finishing your drink, you held Jungkook's hand and left the club, bypassing men and women who still insisted on having a good time.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you close to him before starting to walk through the city towards your house.

The night was beautiful. Sky clear of any clouds, some stars shining shyly around a single, full moon. Silence soaked in a gentle summer breeze, the whole city asleep as you and your best friend walked the sleepy streets that led you home.

Small laughs escaped your mouths. Not because any jokes were being told, but because Jungkook insisted on hindering your steps, wanting you to stumble in the air for his entertainment. The path to your house was short, a little bumpy with so much laughter and pushing, but it was genuine, covered with a blanket of pure comfort.

“Wanna come in?”

You were looking for your keys while waiting for a response from Jungkook; with his hands in the pockets of his pants, looking at the building before him, Jungkook smiled openly at your question, having secretly wished that you would invite him in – he had just missed you too much.

In the elevator of your building, you laid your head next to Jungkook, closing your eyes for a moment, as you felt his hand grab your waist to keep you safe. The silence between you was comforting, enveloping you in a small hug of serenity and warmth; in the peace between you, you felt safe, Jungkook's hand always attached to you reminding you that, with him, you had nothing to fear – and that was just one of the many reasons that made you like Jungkook so much.

You turned on the light in your apartment with a tired sigh.

Upon entering your house, your body instantly guided you to the kitchen where you took two beers from your fridge and gave one to Jungkook. After a small sip, you held your friend's hand and took him to your room, where the stereo was eager to make you dance one last time.

You turned on the music quickly, lowering the sound a little as not to disturb the neighbors, and, still drunk with the emotions of the club, you let your body move slowly to the sound of the music.

Jungkook sat on your bed, drinking his beer while replying to messages that had been on his phone since the beginning of the night. He rocked his body unconsciously, his thumb tapping quickly on his cell phone screen, wanting to ditch his obligations as a friend so he could focus entirely on the beer, on the music, on you.

“T’night feels long,” you smiled as you changed the song, your head bobbing to the beat. “In a good way, ‘course.”

“The night only started when we arrived at the club,” Jungkook let out a small laugh and threw his cell phone to the other side of the bed. “If you wan’, we can extend it ‘till dawn.”

You looked at Jungkook and smiled – you sealed his suggestion with a simple curve of your lips and a flutter of your eyelashes.

Even before Jungkook got up, you placed your beer on your bedside table and placed yourself in front of your best friend. Jungkook gently tilted his head to look at you, smile on his lips, tenderness in his hands as he placed them gently on your waist.

You placed your forehead against his while your body slowly danced to the music that echoed throughout the room. Your smile was big, but not bigger than Jungkook's who was still looking at you tenderly, the sparkle in his eyes making him even more adorable.

You had drunk too much – that's what you believed, that's what you repeated to yourself when your hands fell on Jungkook's shoulders and your body decided to sensualize your movements. And Jungkook let you dance. Taking his hands off of you, Jungkook just stared at you as he watched you move so slowly and sensually to the music.

He opened his legs on instinct and you placed yourself between them, rotating your body. You bent down gently, your ass brushing against Jungkook in a movement that was too quick for his liking. He just smiled, his tongue touching his cheek in an attempt to control himself as he saw you turn your body again and take the beer out of his hand and place it next to yours.

You were smiling yourself, teasing Jungkook with your tempting lips. And even before you walked away from him, Jungkook grabbed your hips again, pulling you towards him.

Your foreheads came together once again, your smiles still stuck on your lips. And a silence followed, only broken by the music from your stereo. However, between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other. And, as such, you and Jungkook leaned in at the same time for a kiss.

It started slowly, Jungkook tasting your lips, while he gently squeezed your body; but he quickly became thirsty, hungrier for you. Your hands held Jungkook's face, your fingers caressing your friend's silky hair as he pulled you closer to him, more than was possible.

You moved a little away from Jungkook to breathe, your lips so close that you could still taste him. One tease, two teases and, before you could tease Jungkook's lips a third time, he quickly brought your lips together again, using his tongue to accommodate itself in your mouth.

Jungkook guided you to his lap with his hands, making you sit on his legs and pulling, over and over again, your body close to his. His lips separated from yours and trailed your face, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Jungkook's lips worshipped your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, making you sigh as he gently sucked your essence. Your hand tangled in Jungkook's dark hair, gently pulling some strands when his kisses felt more enjoyable, making him smile against your neck.

Jungkook still had his hands on you, but he wanted more.

Still lost in your scent and focused on your neck, Jungkook's hands went down to your thighs, squeezing you gently before moving them up again, hiding them under your clothes. You sighed when you felt Jungkook's warm fingers on your skin — the way he squeezed you gently made you feel important.

“Kookie…”

“Hm?” He moved his lips back, following the same path as before, loving every corner of your skin. “Tell me, angel.”

You opened your mouth slightly, letting a new sigh escape your lips when Jungkook squeezed you again and pulled you towards him, your intimacy very slightly feeling Jungkook becoming hard.

“We’ still friends, right?”

He kissed you a first time and smiled. He kissed you a second time and ran his hands up your back. He kissed you a third time and nodded.

“Best friends,” he corrected you, smile stuck on his lips, fingers stroking your back.

“Good,” you kissed Jungkook again desperately, as if he were the answer to all the questions that clouded your mind. You were greedy. You only wanted him. You just wanted more of him.

Your hands grabbed Jungkook's shirt and, as quickly as you could, freed him from the fabric, throwing it roughly to the floor of your room. You could finally feel him. Your fingers lingered on your best friend's chest; caressing Jungkook made you feel lost, totally intoxicated by the softness of his skin, by the absurdity of the whole situation – what were you doing?

You decided to be the one to love this time, your lips getting lost on Jungkook's neck while kisses were left as memories of a fantastic night. In the crook of Jungkook's neck, your teeth sank into his hot skin, making him let out a small sigh that lingered forever in your room. More. You wanted to hear more.

Without realizing it, you started to move your hips, resting your forehead on Jungkook's shoulder, the friction forced by you making you sigh softly. And him too. Jungkook held your thighs again, helping your movements, sighing with his eyes closed at the feeling of having you so close to him.

Jungkook was starting to get impatient. He wanted more of you. He needed more of you.

He quickly took off your shirt, wasting no time admiring your body, kissing your skin immediately as his hands toke off your bra. With your breasts exposed, Jungkook became hungrier. His lips began to kiss your collarbone, trailing along your soft skin in paths unknown to him; it was only a matter of time before Jungkook found himself with your breasts.

You let a small moan escape your mouth when Jungkook began worshiping your breasts. Your friend's tender lips kissed your boob thirstily, gently sucking on your skin, carefully biting your very appetizing nipple. Jungkook's mouth was an expert at worshiping you. And you could only moan softly, gently. One of Jungkook's hands squeezed your other breast, his slender fingers pinching, teasing your exposed nipple. He seemed starving, completely hungry for you; Jungkook just wanted more of you, more of your smooth skin, more of your sensual moans.

He lingered on your breasts, making sure every corner of your skin was marked with his saliva. Your moans filled the room, motivating Jungkook to continue, to not stop worshiping you. He was completely intoxicated with you.

“Kook…” your voice came out weak, in a whisper, covered in small moans and teasing sighs. “Jung…kook…”

“Yea, my angel,” Jungkook moved slightly away from your chest, now looking at you for the first time since he had undressed you. His sweet eyes roamed every inch of your skin, admiring how naturally beautiful you really were, feeling more and more needy with each passing second.

You gently moved your hips, pressing your intimacy to Jungkook's, causing you both to let out a small groan.

“Can we…” Jungkook’s fingers traced your body, outlining every curve and mark with a provocative delicacy that only left you sighing deeply. “Can we do… more?”

Jungkook's response came in the form of a kiss, massaging your lips once again while his big hands slid to your ass and squeezed it tightly. You moaned softly when Jungkook bit your neck hard, marking his devotion on your skin, leaving you a memory of a night that had become magical.

Your hands quickly grabbed Jungkook's pants, impatiently unbolting them, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. But you didn't care; you hadn't even fully heard him. You needed more of Jungkook, you just wanted more of Jungkook.

In a quick maneuver you pulled Jungkook's pants, leaving them lying on the floor surrounding his feet, and looked at him. Your eyes shone with desire. Wherever you focused your gaze, you could only see fascination painted on Jungkook's face; his lips were slightly open, begging for one more kiss from you, begging for one more contact with your body; his eyes, so sweet and bright, now consumed by the greed that ran through his body, were locked on you, silently asking you if you wanted more, if you should continue.

For a moment, everything was static.

Your hands were resting on Jungkook's shoulders. Jungkook's hands were resting on your hips. Your eyes were lost in Jungkook’s attractive features. Jungkook's eyes were lost in your delicate features.

Just a moment. Just a second.

You were going to continue. You just wanted to continue.

You rushed in for an intense kiss, answering the question dictated by your best friend's eyes. As he kissed you, completely soaked in your essence, intoxicated with your fragrance, Jungkook's hands looked for the button of your pants, wanting to undress you as quickly as possible – he wanted to feel you.

You left Jungkook's lap for mere moments, just long enough for your pants to fall to the floor. You didn't have time to waste. Every second was precious when shared with Jungkook.

When you sat down on Jungkook's lap again, he let out a groan. You were wet, a lot. Your fluids passed through the fabric of your panties. And Jungkook felt it. Through his boxers, Jungkook felt your excitement.

Your hand went down to your friend's boxers as your lips seduced his neck. Above the fabric, your hand caressed Jungkook's penis, feeling how hard he was – because of you. Your thumb gently pressed the tip of Jungkook's cock, gently caressing it stimulated by the pre-cum that painted his boxers.

“F…fuck, ugh!” He could only groan. Feeling your touch, even if it was blocked by a cloth, drove him insane. With his head tilted and his eyes closed, Jungkook allowed himself to be pampered by you.

His mind was completely covered with pure pleasure and euphoria. Your lips kissed Jungkook's neck, your hand caressed Jungkook's cock, and Jungkook felt special at that moment, important.

“I want…” Jungkook’s voice was lost in his moans, trying to release words beyond the profanities that trapped his lips. “I want… you. Agh! More… please.”

You held Jungkook's shoulders with your hands again and, now stimulated by the fluids that stained your underwear, your hips began to move gently. The friction you caused seemed divine, guiding your mind to paths of pure pleasure and desire, creating moans in your mouth that were released weakly. Your voice stuck to Jungkook's skin, fixing the euphoria that ran throughout your body in his chest.

With his hands, Jungkook caressed your thighs. Feeling your soft skin in his hands as you brushed against him drove Jungkook crazy. Sighs and moans filled your room, completely drowning out the music that insisted on dictating the rhythm of your movements – but you didn't hear it, you were too focused on Jungkook to notice what was happening around you.

You kissed Jungkook again, your hands pressing down on his body. Jungkook let himself be guided by you, ending up laying down on your bed while he delighted in your intense kisses and precise movements. Your lips were poisonous, corrupting Jungkook's composure, forcing him to moan into your mouth, to squeeze your thighs, to get harder and harder.

“Jungkook…”

How divine it was to hear his name being pronounced by your sinful lips, adorned by the pleasurable sighs that escaped you. “Yea, my love?” And how sublime it was to call you that word with his hoarse voice, immersed in the desire that was trapped in his intense sighs.

“Tell me…” you moved away from Jungkook’s lips and approached his ear, your lips almost caressing it, your tongue teasing his sensitive skin. “Tell me when you’re close.”

You kissed Jungkook's neck, once, twice, three times, and after marking your teeth in the crook of his neck once more, you straightened your back, freely rocking your body on top of Jungkook.

Your friend's eyes were locked on you, completely mesmerized by your sensual movements. There was something about the way your hips moved, the way you brushed against Jungkook so perfectly, that made him impatient for more, completely desperate for you. But he just looked at you, admiring your every movement, retaining in his memory every sound that came out of you.

You were covered in pleasure. Even though you didn't feel Jungkook's penis in its entirety, you were excited – the friction was good, too good, making your intimacy increasingly wet, increasingly thirsty for Jungkook. You wanted more, you wanted much more. But you just brought your hands to your breasts, caressing them with the memory of Jungkook's touch in your mind, moving your hips faster.

Beautiful. You were simply beautiful. With your eyes closed, head tilted back and lips slightly open, you looked magnificent. With hands on your breasts and intimacy soaked, you were divine. Unique. That image was unique to Jungkook. Something he felt was not for his eyes, too lewd for him to be aware of. But, fuck!, how perfect you were.

“I’m…” Jungkook swallowed a moan before speaking, taking a deep breath when you touched the head of his cock. “I’m… agh!, close… close…!”

You smiled at yourself. So fast it was. So hungry he was.

You kissed Jungkook again once, twice, three times, and before separating your lips from his, your hands held Jungkook's, guiding them to your ass, making you smile.

“Use me however you want.” Your voice sounded so low, so perverse in Jungkook's ear that he couldn't stifle a new moan. You were too much for him.

Squeezing your ass, Jungkook helped increase the speed of your movements, making the pressure on him more intense for both of you.

Both you and Jungkook were out of control. Lost in each other's moans, disoriented by the exaltation that coursed through your bodies as part of you. You hid your face in the crook of Jungkook's neck, his fragrance mixed with his sweat clouding your mind. Nothing else existed at that moment. You felt nothing else at that moment other than the excess pleasure that Jungkook gave you with each pressure on your intimacy.

“Jung… fuck! Jungkook, I’m…”

“I’m close,” he repeated, breathlessly, not fully hearing you. His mind was stuck on the way you stained his boxers, completely focused on how perfectly you caressed his penis. “Close…”

“Fuck! Agh, Jung… U-ugh!” You bit Jungkook again when you felt a knot in your stomach, your head spinning when you finally came. A feeling of freedom washed over you, trapping your lips and staining your panties.

You felt good at that moment, completely fulfilled while Jungkook still kept pace, caressing your intimacy excessively, forcing you to let out moans and meaningless words, totally drunk with pleasure.

“Please…” your voice was hoarse, low, not wanting to be heard in its entirety so well you were feeling. “Jungkook, please, aghn!”

“Again,” Jungkook asked between moans, feeling his limit approaching faster and faster. “My… ugh… name!… again.”

You obeyed out of instinct.

“Jungkook.”

Like an enchantment hovering in the air, Jungkook's name sounded once again, embellished by your tired voice, framed by the pleasure he caused you. And that was all it took. Enticed by your voice, Jungkook couldn't contain his euphoria – pearl strands marked stains on his dark boxers, a long, low grunt accompanying Jungkook's climax as he slowed down his movements until he left you motionless on top of him.

Both you and Jungkook were panting.

Still processing the ecstasy that completely washed over your bodies, you and Jungkook remained lying with your eyes closed – your head resting on Jungkook's chest, his hands still resting on your ass. There was a moment of pause. Brief seconds of silence that were cut by music that was too pure for the occasion.

You finally smiled.

You gently lifted your torso and moved a little away from Jungkook's intimacy, just enough to be able to tease him. Your fingers invaded Jungkook's privacy driven by curiosity and were quickly bathed in his essence. You let that white fluid paint your fingers as you created art on Jungkook's penis with his own essence – up, down, on the head, along the entire length.

A small moan sounded between Jungkook's smile, his head lifting a little to see you.

“What’re you doin’?”

“I just wanna see the damage I did,” you shrugged and continued to stimulate Jungkook with his own cum as you smiled to yourself.

“If you continue, you’ll have to take responsibility.”

“Doesn’t seem that bad.”

You looked at Jungkook innocently, the contrast in your wicked smile being enough to drive your friend crazy once again.

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. And that night, when held in your best friend's arms and drunk on the pleasure he gave you, you almost found the feeling of being alive.

Maybe, but just maybe, the feeling of being alive was similar to the feeling of being worshipped by Jungkook.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[badbtssmut]

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About author

Spain. Poc. 11.11. Demisexual. Sapiosexual. 4B. Call me miss, mommy, mami or bae, honey, any petname. 21+. Female. Work in marketing. Bias is Taehyung.

About blog

This is an out of pocket freaky BTS smut blog, I don’t do fluffy romance or feel good fics. Please don’t trauma dump, or send personal sex stories. Do not send inappropriate pics of the members (like bulge pics) or sexualize them outside of my fics.

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Jungkook | Taehyung | Jimin

OT7 ; Freeuse with Hybe staff. Cheerleader. Pokernight.

Maknae line ; Freeuse manager.

Multimembers ; Vmin breeding. Vmin freeuse. Breastfeeding Taekook. Swingers Taekook. Public mall Vmin. Friends Taekook.Taekook Same bed. Taekook club. Vmin bus.Taekook roommates.

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Freeuse girlfriend

Namjoon’s tutorial

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